THE LONE PASSENGER
That evening the down train from London deposited at the little country station of Ramsdon but a single passenger, a man of middle height, shabbily dressed, with broad shoulders and long arms and a most unusual breadth and depth of chest.
Of his face one could see little, for it was covered by a thick growth of dark curly hair, beard, moustache and whiskers, all overgrown and ill-tended, and as he came with a somewhat slow and ungainly walk along the platform, the lad stationed at the gate to collect tickets grinned amusedly and called to one of the porters near:
"Look at this, Bill; here's the monkey-man escaped and come back along of us."It was a reference to a travelling circus that had lately visited the place and exhibited a young chimpanzee advertised as "the monkey-man," and Bill guffawed appreciatively.
The stranger was quite close and heard plainly, for indeed the youth at the gate had made no special attempt to speak softly.
The boy was still laughing as he held out his hand for the ticket, and the stranger gave it to him with one hand and at the same time shot out a long arm, caught the boy - a well-grown lad of sixteen - by the middle and, with as little apparent effort as though lifting a baby, swung him into the air to the top of the gate-post, where he left him clinging with arms and legs six feet from the ground.
"Hi, what are you a-doing of?" shouted the porter, running up, as the amazed and frightened youth, clinging to his gate-post, emitted a dismal howl.
"Teaching a cheeky boy manners," retorted the stranger with an angry look and in a very gruff and harsh voice."Do you want to go on top of the other post to make a pair?"The porter drew back hurriedly.
"You be off," he ordered as he retreated."We don't want none of your sort about here.""I certainly have no intention of staying," retorted the other as gruffly as before."But I think you'll remember Bobbie Dunn next time I come this way.""Let me down; please let me down," wailed the boy, clinging desperately to the gate-post on whose top he had been so unceremoniously deposited, and Dunn laughed and walked away, leaving the porter to rescue his youthful colleague and to cuff his ears soundly as soon as he had done so, by way of a relief to his feelings.
"That will learn you to be a bit civil to folk, I hope," said the porter severely."But that there chap must have an amazing strong arm," he added thoughtfully."Lifting you up there all the same as you was a bunch of radishes."For some distance after leaving the station, Dunn walked on slowly.
He seemed to know the way well or else to be careless of the direction he took, for he walked along deep in thought with his eyes fixed on the ground and not looking in the least where he was going.
Abruptly, a small child appeared out of the darkness and spoke to him, and he started violently and in a very nervous manner.
"What was that? What did you say, kiddy?" he asked, recovering himself instantly and speaking this time not in the gruff and harsh tones he had used before but in a singularly winning and pleasant voice, cultivated and gentle, that was in odd contrast with his rough and battered appearance."The time, was that what you wanted to know?""Yes, sir; please, sir," answered the child, who had shrunk back in alarm at the violent start Dunn had given, but now seemed reassured by his gentle and pleasant voice."The right time," the little one added almost instantly and with much emphasis on the "right."Dunn gravely gave the required imformation with the assurance that to the best of his belief it was "right," and the child thanked him and scampered off.
Resuming his way, Dunn shook his head with an air of grave dissatisfaction.
"Nerves all to pieces," he muttered."That won't do.Hang it all, the job's no worse than following a wounded tiger into the jungle, and I've done that before now.Only then, of course, one knew what to expect, whereas now - And I was a silly ass to lose my temper with that boy at the station.You aren't ****** a very brilliant start, Bobby, my boy."By this time he had left the little town behind him and he was walking along a very lonely and dark road.
On one side was a plantation of young trees, on the other there was the open ground, covered with furze bush, of the village common.
Where the plantation ended stood a low, two-storied house of medium size, with a veranda stretching its full length in front.It stood back from the road some distance and appeared to be surrounded by a large garden.
At the gate Dunn halted and struck a match as if to light a pipe, and by the flickering flame of this match the name "Bittermeads,"painted on the gate became visible.
