ight! Blow your
police-whistle! Blow your pinkish brains out!" Then with a sudden
change she turned to Mr. MacFie. "Oh, Andy, Andy! You never was the
same man after you 'ad that drink in you down in the country at the
temperance fete. Don't you remember how you laughed with me about that
Old Bird being washed out of her carriage?"

"It's a lee! It's a lee! A damnable lee!" shrieked Mr. MacFie.

Mr. MacFie was interrupted in his protestations by a sudden rush of
feet, and the hall began to fill with a wild-eyed, dishevelled crowd.
Mothers carrying their babies, or pulling along little children.
Everyone inviting everyone else to come in. One woman was in
hysterics. Lady Knob-Kerrick stared at them in wonder.

"What is the meaning of this?" she demanded of no one in particular.

"It's a raid, mum, a raid; it's a raid," sobbed a woman, leading two
little children with the hand and holding a baby in her disengaged
arm.

Lady Knob-Kerrick paled. "A raid!" she faltered.

"Yes, mum, can't you 'ear the police-whistles?"

"Well, I'm damned!" broke in Bindle, slapping his leg in ecstasy; then
a moment after, seeing the terror on the women's faces, he cried out:

"It's all right, there ain't no raid. Don't be frightened. It's ole
Calves with that bloomin' police-whistle."

"Tell that fool to stop," cried Lady Knob-Kerrick. A special constable
pushed his way through the crowd.

"What is all this about, please?" he demanded.

"There's a raid, sir," cried several voices.

"I give this woman in charge," cried Mr. MacFie, dramatically pointing
at her who claimed to be his wife.

With alacrity the special pulled his note-book out of his pocket.

"The charge, sir?" he enquired.

"She says she's ma wife."

The special looked up from his note-book. "That is not an indictable
offence, sir, I'm afraid."

"But she's na ma wife," protested Mr. MacFie.

Another rush of people seeking shelter swept the constable on one
side, and when he once more strove to take up the thread, the woman
had disappeared.

The results of John's vigour with the police-whistle were
far-reaching. Omnibuses had drawn up to the kerb and had been promptly
deserted by passengers and crew. The trains on the District Railway
were plunged in darkness and the authorities at Putney Bridge Station
and East Putney telephoned through that there was a big air-raid.
Although nothing had been heard at head-quarters, it was deemed
advisable to take precaution