Page 127 - Arrow Publications Pvt. Ltd.
P. 127

The storm inside rose high. “Shameful;”

          “He’s no better than a German; Why isn’t
          he in the army?” “Call the police;” “Let’s all
          report him;” “Let’s make him give us our

          fares back;” “Yes, that’s it, let’s make him
          give us our fares back.” For, everybody was
          on the side of the lady and the dog.

          That little animal sat blinking at the dim

          lights in happy unconsciousness of the
          rumpus for which he was the cause.

          The conductor came to the door. “What’s
          your number?” said one, taking out a

          pocketbook.

          “There’s my number,” said the conductor imperturbably.

          “Give us our fares back - you’ve engaged to carry us - You can’t leave us here all night.”

          “No fares back,” said the conductor.

          Two or three passengers got out and disappeared into the night. The conductor took another
          turn on the pavement, then went and had a talk with the driver. Another bus, the last on the

          road, sailed by indifferent to the shouts of the passengers. “They stick by each other - the
          villians,” was the comment.

          Someone pulled the bell violently. That brought the driver to the door. “Who’s the conductor
          of this bus?” he said, and paused for a reply. None coming, he returned to his seat. A policeman

          strolled up and looked in at the door. An avalanche of indignant protests and appeals burst
          on him.

          “Well, he has got his rules, you know,” he said genially, and he went away.

          And the little dog blinked at the lights, and the conductor walked to and fro on the pavement.
          A young woman, whose voice had risen high above the gale inside, descended on him with

          an air of threatening and slaughter. He was immovable - as cold as the night and as hard
          as the pavement. She passed on in a fury of impotence to the three policemen, who stood

          like a group of statuary up the street watching the drama. Then she came back, imperiously
          beckoned to her ‘young man’ who had sat a silent witness of her rage, and vanished. Others
          followed. The bus was emptying. Even the dashing young fellow who had demanded the

          number, and who had declared he would see this thing through if he sat there all night, had
          taken an opportunity to slip away.


                                                            125                                 Arrow - English Plus-8
   122   123   124   125   126   127   128   129   130   131   132