red not to notice us until he was abreast of our seat. Then he
stopped and eyed each of us in turn. His boots were muddy.

"These gents," said the taxi-man, "'ave been and done something nasty."

The phrase seemed attractive to him and he repeated it. The policeman,
a tall muscular man, surveyed us in silence. Sarakoff, his hair and
beard dishevelled, was leaning back in a corner of the seat, with his
legs crossed. His dressing-gown was tucked closely round him, and below
it, his pink pyjamas fluttered in the thin breeze. His expression was
calm.

The taxi-man continued--

"I picked these gents up in the Euston Road. They was in a hurry. I
thought they'd done something ordinary, same as what you or me might do,
but it seems I was wrong. They've been and done something nasty. They've
gone and invented this 'ere Blue Disease."

The policeman raised his helmet a little and the taxi-man uttered an
exclamation.

"Why, you've got it yourself," he said, and stared. The policeman's eyes
were stained a vivid blue.

"An immortal policeman!" murmured Sarakoff dreamily.

The discovery seemed to discomfit the taxi-man. The tide of indignation
in him was deflected, and he shifted his feet. The policeman, with a
deliberation that was magnificent advanced to the seat and sat down
beside me.

"Good-morning," I said.

"Good-morning," he replied in a deep calm voice. He removed his helmet
from his head and allowed the wind to stir his hair. The taxi-man moved
a step nearer us.

"You ought to arrest them," he said. "Here's my wife got it, and you,
and who's to say when it will end? They're doctors, too. I allus had my
own suspicions of doctors, and 'ere they are, just as I supposed,
inventing diseases to keep themselves going. That's what you ought to do
... arrest them. I'll drive you all down to the police-station." The
policeman replaced his helmet, crossed his long blue legs, and leaned
back in the corner of the seat. Side by side on the seat Sarakoff, the
policeman, and I gazed tranquilly at the figure of the taxi-man, at the
taxi-cab, and at the misty panorama of London that lay beyond the Vale
of Health. The expression of anger returned to the taxi-man's face.

"And 'ere am I, standing and telling you to do your duty, and all the
time I haven't had my breakfast," he said bitterly. "If you was to cop
them two gents, your name would be in all the evenin' papers." He
paused, and frowned, conscious that he was making litt