“The police and me’s been mixed up a good deal,” continued the veteran resuming his reminiscences: “They took the best customer I ever had away from me. I’d have made my fortin if they’d let him carry on his little game a while longer.”
Here, with the coquetry of one who knows that his words are of interest, the driver began to look around him with an air of abstraction and to comment upon the weather.
“Well, what about your customer and the police?” I asked.
“It’s not much to tell,” he said, coming back to his subject. “One morning I was driving across Vauxhall Bridge when I was hailed by a crooked old man with a pair of spectacles on, who was standing at the Middlesex end, with a big leather bag in his hand. ‘Drive anywhere you like,’ he said; ‘only don’t drive fast for I’m getting old, and it shakes me to pieces.’ He jumped in, and shut himself up, closing the windows, and I trotted about with him for three hours, before he let me know that he had had enough. When I stopped, out he hopped with his big bag in his hand.
“‘I say cabbie!’ he said, after he had paid his fare.
“‘Yes, sir,’ said I, touching my hat.
“‘You seem to be a decent sort of fellow, and you don’t go in the break-neck way of some of your kind. I don’t mind giving you the same job every day. The doctors recommend gentle exercise of the sort, and you may as well drive me as another. Just pick me up at the same place tomorrow.’
“Well, to make a long story short, I used to find the little man in his place every morning, always with his black bag, and for nigh on to four months never a day passed without his having his three hours’ drive and paying his fare like a man at the end of it. I shifted into new quarters on the strength of it, and was able to buy a new set of harness. I don’t say as I altogether swallowed the story of the doctors having recommended him on a hot day to go about in a growler with both windows up. However, it’s a bad thing in this world to be too knowing, so though I own I felt a bit curious at times, I never put myself out o’ the way to find out what the little game was. One day, I was driving tap to my usual place of dropping him — for by this time we had got into the way of going a regular beat every morning — when I saw a policeman waiting, with a perky sort of look about him, as if he had some job on hand. When the cab stopped out jumped the little man with his bag right into the arms of the ‘bobby.’
“‘I arrest you, John Malone,’ says the policeman.
“‘On what charge?’ he answers as cool as a turnip.
“‘On the charge of forging Bank of England notes,’ says the ‘bobby’.
“‘Oh, then the game is up!’ he cries, and with that he pulls off his spectacles, and his wig and whiskers, and there he was, as smart a young fellow as you’d wish to see.
“‘Good-bye, cabby,’ he cried, as they led him off, and that was the last I saw of him, marching along between two of them, and another behind with the bag.”
“And why did he take a cab?” I asked, much interested.
“Well, you see, he had all his plant for making the notes in that bag. If he were to lock himself up in his lodging several hours a day it would soon set people wondering, to say nothing of the chance of eyes at the window or key-hole. Again, you see, if he took a house all on his own hook, without servant nor anyone, it would look queer. So he made up his mind as the best way of working it was to carry it on in a closed cab, and I don’t know that he wasn’t right. He was known to the police however, and that was how they spotted him. Drat that van! It was as near as a touch to my off-wheel.
“Bless you, if I was to tell you all the thieves and burglars, and even murderers, as have been in my growler one time or another, you’d think I’d given the whole Newgate Calendar a lift, though to be sure this young chap as I spoke of was the only one as ever reg’lar set up in business there. There was one though as I reckon to be worse than all the others put together, if he was what I think him to be. It’s often laid heavy on my mind that I didn’t have that chap collared before it was too late, for I might have saved some mischief. It was about ten years ago — I never was a good hand for dates — that I picked up a stout-built sailor-sort of fellow, with a reddish moustache, who wanted to be taken down to the docks. After this chap as I told you of had taken such liberties with the premises I’d had a little bit of a glass slit let in in front here — the same that your little boy’s flattening his nose against at this moment — so as I could prevent any such games in the future, and have an idea, whenever I wished, of what was going on inside. Well, something or another about this sailor fellow made me suspicious of him, and I took a look at what he was after. He was sitting on the seat, sir, with a big lump o’ coal in his lap, and was a looking at it most attentive. Now this seemed to me rather a rum start, so I kept on watching of him, for as you’ll see, my window’s not a very large one, and it’s easier to see through it than to be seen. Well, he pulls a spring or something, and out jumps one of the sides of this bit of coal, and then I saw it was really a hollow box, painted, you see, and made rough so as to look like the other. I couldn’t make head or tail of it anyhow, and indeed I’d pretty near forgot all about it when there came news of the explosion at Bemerhaven, and people began to talk about coal torpedoes. Then I knew as in all probability I’d carried the man who managed the business, and I gave word to the police, but they never could make anything of it. You know what a coal torpedo is, don’t you? Well, you see, a cove insures his ship for more than its value, and then off he goes and makes a box like a bit o’coal, and fills it chock full with dynamite, or some other cowardly stuff of the sort. He drops this box among the other coals on the quay when the vessel is filling her bunkers, and then in course of time box is shoveled on to the furnaces, when of course the whole ship is blown sky high. They say there’s many a good ship gone to the bottom like that.”
“You’ve certainly had some queer experiences,” I said.
“Why bless you!” remarked the driver, “I’ve hardly got fairly started yet, and here we are at the ‘Alexandry.’ I could tell you many another story as strange as these — and true, mind ye, true as Gospel. If ever your missus looks in need of a breath of fresh air you send round for me — Copper Street, number ninety-four — and I’ll give her a turn into the country, and if you’ll come up beside me on the box, I’ll tell you a good deal that may surprise you. But there’s your little lad a hollering to you like mad, and the wife wants to get out, and the other one’s a tapping at the window with a parasol. Take care how you get down, sir! That’s right! Don’t forget number ninety-four! Good-day missus! Good-day, sir!” And the growler rumbled heavily away until I lost sight both of it and of its communicative driver among the crowd of holiday-makers who thronged the road which led to the Palace.
The Short Stories
Windlesham Manor, Crowborough — Conan Doyle’s home in later years
LIST OF SHORT STORIES IN CHRONOLOGICAL ORDER
Please note: to retain the original structure of the story collections, some short stories appear more than once in the list.
For the Sherlock Holmes short stories, click here.
THE CAPTAIN OF THE “POLE-STAR.”
F. HABAKUK JEPHSON’S STATEMENT.
THE GREAT KEINPLATZ EXPERIMENT.
THE MAN FROM ARCHANGEL.
THAT LITTLE SQUARE BOX.
JOHN HUXFORD’S HIATUS.
CYPRIAN OVERBECK WELLS — A LITERARY MOSAIC.
JOHN BARRINGTON COWLES.
ELIAS B. HOPKINS, THE PARSON OF JACKMAN’S GULCH.
THE BROWN HAND
THE USHER OF LEA HOUSE SCHOOL
B. 24
THE GREAT KEINPLATZ EXPERIMENT
CYPRIAN OVERBECK WELLS
A LITERARY MOSAIC
PLAYING WITH FIRE
THE RING OF THOTH
THE LOS AMIGOS FIASCO
HOW IT HAPPENED
LOT NO. 249
DE PROFUNDIS
THE LIFT
ELIAS B. HOPKINS, T
HE PARSON OF JACKMAN’S GULCH.
MY FRIEND THE MURDERER
THE MAN FROM ARCHANGEL
THAT LITTLE SQUARE BOX.
THE AMERICAN’S TALE
BONES. THE APRIL FOOL OF HARVEY’S SLUICE
THE MYSTERY OF SASASSA VALLEY
OUR DERBY SWEEPSTAKES
SELECTING A GHOST. THE GHOSTS OF GORESTHORPE GRANGE
THE GULLY OF BLUEMANSDYKE.
THE PARSON OF JACKMAN’S GULCH.
MY FRIEND THE MURDERER.
THE SILVER HATCHET.
THE MAN FROM ARCHANGEL.
THAT LITTLE SQUARE BOX.
A NIGHT AMONG THE NIHILISTS.
BEHIND THE TIMES.
HIS FIRST OPERATION.
A STRAGGLER OF ‘15.
THE THIRD GENERATION.
A FALSE START.
THE CURSE OF EVE.
SWEETHEARTS.
A PHYSIOLOGIST’S WIFE.
THE CASE OF LADY SANNOX.
A QUESTION OF DIPLOMACY.
A MEDICAL DOCUMENT.
LOT NO. 249.
THE LOS AMIGOS FIASCO.
THE DOCTORS OF HOYLAND.
THE SURGEON TALKS.
THE GREEN FLAG
CAPTAIN SHARKEY.
HOW THE GOVERNOR OF SAINT KITT’S CAME HOME.
THE DEALINGS OF CAPTAIN SHARKEY WITH STEPHEN CRADDOCK
HOW COPLEY BANKS SLEW CAPTAIN SHARKEY
THE CROXLEY MASTER
THE LORD OF CHATEAU NOIR
THE STRIPED CHEST
A SHADOW BEFORE
THE KING OF THE FOXES
THE THREE CORRESPONDENTS
THE DEBUT OF BIMBASHI JOYCE
A FOREIGN OFFICE ROMANCE
HOW THE BRIGADIER CAME TO THE CASTLE OF GLOOM
HOW THE BRIGADIER SLEW THE BROTHERS OF AJACCIO
HOW THE BRIGADIER HELD THE KING
HOW THE KING HELD THE BRIGADIER
HOW THE BRIGADIER TOOK THE FIELD AGAINST THE MARSHAL MILLEFLEURS
HOW THE BRIGADIER PLAYED FOR A KINGDOM
HOW THE BRIGADIER WON HIS MEDAL
HOW THE BRIGADIER WAS TEMPTED BY THE DEVIL
HOW BRIGADIER GERARD LOST HIS EAR
HOW THE BRIGADIER CAPTURED SARAGOSSA
HOW THE BRIGADIER SLEW THE FOX [*]
HOW THE BRIGADIER SAVED THE ARMY
HOW THE BRIGADIER TRIUMPHED IN ENGLAND
HOW THE BRIGADIER RODE TO MINSK
HOW THE BRIGADIER BORE HIMSELF AT WATERLOO
THE LAST ADVENTURE OF THE BRIGADIER
THE MAN WITH THE WATCHES
THE MAN WITH THE WATCHES
THE BLACK DOCTOR
THE JEW’S BREASTPLATE
THE LOST SPECIAL
THE CLUB-FOOTED GROCER
THE SEALED ROOM
THE BRAZILIAN CAT
THE LAST OF THE LEGIONS
THE LAST GALLEY
THROUGH THE VEIL
THE COMING OF THE HUNS
THE CONTEST
THE FIRST CARGO
AN ICONOCLAST
GIANT MAXIMIN
THE RED STAR
THE SILVER MIRROR
THE HOME-COMING
A POINT OF CONTACT
THE CENTURION
THE LAST GALLEY
THE CONTEST.
THROUGH THE VEIL.
AN ICONOCLAST.
GIANT MAXIMIN.
THE COMING OF THE HUNS
THE LAST OF THE LEGIONS
THE FIRST CARGO
THE HOME-COMING
THE RED STAR
THE SILVER MIRROR
THE BLIGHTING OF SHARKEY
THE MARRIAGE OF THE BRIGADIER
THE LORD OF FALCONBRIDGE
OUT OF THE RUNNING
DE PROFUNDIS
THE GREAT BROWN-PERICORD MOTOR
THE TERROR OF BLUE JOHN GAP
DANGER! BEING THE LOG OF CAPTAIN JOHN SIRIUS
DANGER STORY II. ONE CROWDED HOUR
DANGER STORY III. A POINT OF VIEW
DANGER STORY IV. THE FALL OF LORD BARRYMORE
DANGER STORY V. THE HORROR OF THE HEIGHTS (WHICH INCLUDES THE MANUSCRIPT KNOWN AS THE JOYCE-ARMSTRONG FRAGMENT)
DANGER STORY VI. BORROWED SCENES
DANGER STORY VII. THE SURGEON OF GASTER FELL
DANGER STORY VIII. HOW IT HAPPENED
DANGER STORY IX. THE PRISONER’S DEFENCE
DANGER STORY X. THREE OF THEM
THE LEATHER FUNNEL
THE NEW CATACOMB
THE CASE OF LADY SANNOX
TALES OF MYSTERY
THE LOST SPECIAL
THE BEETLE-HUNTER
THE MAN WITH THE WATCHES
THE JAPANNED BOX
THE BLACK DOCTOR
THE JEW’S BREASTPLATE
TALES OF PIRATES
CAPTAIN SHARKEY: HOW THE GOVERNOR OF SAINT KITT’S CAME HOME
THE DEALINGS OF CAPTAIN SHARKEY WITH STEPHEN CRADDOCK
THE BLIGHTING OF SHARKEY
HOW COPLEY BANKS SLEW CAPTAIN SHARKEY
THE “SLAPPING SAL”
A PIRATE OF THE LAND: ONE CROWDED HOUR
TALES OF BLUE WATER
THE STRIPED CHEST
THE CAPTAIN OF THE “POLESTAR”
THE FIEND OF THE COOPERAGE
JELLAND’S VOYAGE
J. HABAKUK JEPHSON’S STATEMENT
THAT LITTLE SQUARE BOX
TALES OF ADVENTURE
THE DÉBUT OF BIMBASHI JOYCE
THE SURGEON OF GASTER FELL: HOW THE WOMAN CAME TO KIRKBY-MALHOUSE
HOW I WENT FORTH TO GASTER FELL
OF THE GREY COTTAGE IN THE GLEN
OF THE MAN WHO CAME IN THE NIGHT
BORROWED SCENES
THE MAN FROM ARCHANGEL
THE GREAT BROWN-PERICORD MOTOR
THE SEALED ROOM
TALES OF MEDICAL LIFE
A PHYSIOLOGIST’S WIFE
BEHIND THE TIMES
HIS FIRST OPERATION
THE THIRD GENERATION
THE CURSE OF EVE
A MEDICAL DOCUMENT
THE SURGEON TALKS
THE DOCTORS OF HOYLAND
CRABBE’S PRACTICE
THE PARISH MAGAZINE
THE CABMAN’S STORY
LIST OF SHORT STORIES IN ALPHABETICAL ORDER
Please note: to retain the original structure of the story collections, some short stories appear more than once in the list.
For the Sherlock Holmes short stories, click here.
A FALSE START.
A FOREIGN OFFICE ROMANCE
A LITERARY MOSAIC
A MEDICAL DOCUMENT
A MEDICAL DOCUMENT.
A NIGHT AMONG THE NIHILISTS.
A PHYSIOLOGIST’S WIFE
A PHYSIOLOGIST’S WIFE.
A PIRATE OF THE LAND: ONE CROWDED HOUR
A POINT OF CONTACT
A QUESTION OF DIPLOMACY.
A SHADOW BEFORE
A STRAGGLER OF ‘15.
AN ICONOCLAST
AN ICONOCLAST.
B. 24
BEHIND THE TIMES
BEHIND THE TIMES.
BONES. THE APRIL FOOL OF HARVEY’S SLUICE
BORROWED SCENES
CAPTAIN SHARKEY.
CAPTAIN SHARKEY: HOW THE GOVERNOR OF SAINT KITT’S CAME HOME
CRABBE’S PRACTICE
CYPRIAN OVERBECK WELLS
CYPRIAN OVERBECK WELLS — A LITERARY MOSAIC.
DANGER STORY II. ONE CROWDED HOUR
DANGER STORY III. A POINT OF VIEW
DANGER STORY IV. THE FALL OF LORD BARRYMORE
DANGER STORY IX. THE PRISONER’S DEFENCE
DANGER STORY V. THE HORROR OF THE HEIGHTS (WHICH INCLUDES THE MANUSCRIPT KNOWN AS THE JOYCE-ARMSTRONG FRAGMENT)
DANGER STORY VI. BORROWED SCENES
DANGER STORY VII. THE SURGEON OF GASTER FELL
DANGER STORY VIII. HOW IT HAPPENED
DANGER STORY X. THREE OF THEM
DANGER! BEING THE LOG OF CAPTAIN JOHN SIRI
US
DE PROFUNDIS
DE PROFUNDIS
ELIAS B. HOPKINS, THE PARSON OF JACKMAN’S GULCH.
ELIAS B. HOPKINS, THE PARSON OF JACKMAN’S GULCH.
F. HABAKUK JEPHSON’S STATEMENT.
GIANT MAXIMIN
GIANT MAXIMIN.
HIS FIRST OPERATION
HIS FIRST OPERATION.
HOW BRIGADIER GERARD LOST HIS EAR
HOW COPLEY BANKS SLEW CAPTAIN SHARKEY
HOW COPLEY BANKS SLEW CAPTAIN SHARKEY
HOW I WENT FORTH TO GASTER FELL
HOW IT HAPPENED
HOW THE BRIGADIER BORE HIMSELF AT WATERLOO
HOW THE BRIGADIER CAME TO THE CASTLE OF GLOOM
HOW THE BRIGADIER CAPTURED SARAGOSSA
HOW THE BRIGADIER HELD THE KING
HOW THE BRIGADIER PLAYED FOR A KINGDOM
HOW THE BRIGADIER RODE TO MINSK
HOW THE BRIGADIER SAVED THE ARMY
HOW THE BRIGADIER SLEW THE BROTHERS OF AJACCIO
HOW THE BRIGADIER SLEW THE FOX [*]
HOW THE BRIGADIER TOOK THE FIELD AGAINST THE MARSHAL MILLEFLEURS
HOW THE BRIGADIER TRIUMPHED IN ENGLAND
HOW THE BRIGADIER WAS TEMPTED BY THE DEVIL
HOW THE BRIGADIER WON HIS MEDAL
HOW THE GOVERNOR OF SAINT KITT’S CAME HOME.
HOW THE KING HELD THE BRIGADIER
J. HABAKUK JEPHSON’S STATEMENT
JELLAND’S VOYAGE
JOHN BARRINGTON COWLES.
JOHN HUXFORD’S HIATUS.
LOT NO. 249
LOT NO. 249.
MY FRIEND THE MURDERER
MY FRIEND THE MURDERER.
OF THE GREY COTTAGE IN THE GLEN
OF THE MAN WHO CAME IN THE NIGHT
OUR DERBY SWEEPSTAKES
OUT OF THE RUNNING
PLAYING WITH FIRE
SELECTING A GHOST. THE GHOSTS OF GORESTHORPE GRANGE
SWEETHEARTS.
TALES OF ADVENTURE
TALES OF BLUE WATER
TALES OF MEDICAL LIFE
TALES OF MYSTERY
TALES OF PIRATES
THAT LITTLE SQUARE BOX
THAT LITTLE SQUARE BOX.
THAT LITTLE SQUARE BOX.
THAT LITTLE SQUARE BOX.
THE “SLAPPING SAL”
THE AMERICAN’S TALE
Delphi Complete Works of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle (Illustrated) Page 919