Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: June 11, 2025
Instead of marching to the scene of the meeting Bob halted and drew his men across the end of the street right underneath the club windows. Crossan, with another company of volunteers, joined him. Bob and Crossan consulted together, and Bob gave an order which I could not hear. Two of his men laid down their rifles and ran along the street, one taking each side of the line of trams.
I did not believe either that it was smuggled brandy. My chance came two days later. I met Crossan in the street. He was standing beside his motor car, a handsome-looking vehicle. He evidently intended to go for a drive. I felt at once that I could not ask him a direct question about the packing-cases. I determined to get at them obliquely if I could. I began by admiring the motor.
Crossan stood rigidly still a few paces in front of the line, watching the far end of the street. Another cyclist appeared and rode towards us. One of the men fired his rifle. Crossan turned round, walked back to the man, and struck him on the head. Then he wrenched the rifle from his hands, threw it into the street, and kicked the man savagely. The man made no resistance.
Marion's suggestion of smuggling delighted him. "But where did you get the coal?" he persisted. "My dear Godfrey," I said, "for all you or I know there may be hundreds of tons of it piled up in the co-operative store. Crossan has a wonderful business instinct. He may have speculated on a visit from some large steamer and be making a large profit.
The men beneath me there must have been about five hundred of them did not speak. They scarcely moved. Bob and Crossan stood in front of them, rigid, silent. Bob's scout, the man who had mounted the telegraph boy's red bicycle, appeared in front of the Town Hall and came tearing along the street. He sprang to the ground in front of Bob and Crossan and spoke to them eagerly.
People attach a surprising amount of importance to Godfrey's social patronage. I myself should be more inclined to cash his cheques for him if he stayed away from my house. But I did not want to argue with Godfrey about Pringle's taste in guests. "What's Crossan been doing to you?" I asked at last. "He hasn't been doing anything to me." "Then for goodness' sake, Godfrey, let the man alone."
People don't like it. I don't mind for myself, of course. But still it's very unpleasant. Men I know keep writing to me. You know the sort of thing I mean." I did. The members of the English aristocracy still preserve a curious sentiment which they call "loyalty." It is quite a different thing from the "loyalty" of Crossan, for instance, or McNeice.
The pyjamas must have been his. He asked us to find his clothes for him, and said that he wanted to go to the post-office. "I must send a telegram to the Prime Minister," he said. "I must send it at once." Crossan eyed him very suspiciously. "It strikes me," said Bland, "that if you're caught sending telegrams to the Prime Minister you'll be hanged too."
I thought I might encourage him by telling him something he would be pleased to hear. "McConkey," I said, "who is foreman in the Green Loaney Scutching Mill, is buying a splendid quick-firing gun." The remark did not have the effect I hoped for. It had an exactly opposite effect. Crossan shut up like a sea anemone suddenly touched. "Your lordship's affairs won't be neglected," he said stiffly.
"She's good enough, my lord," said Crossan. He is a man of few words, and is sparing of his praise. "Good enough" is, from Crossan, quite an enthusiastic compliment. "If your lordship would care about a drive any day," he said, "it'll be a pleasure to me."
Word Of The Day
Others Looking