“Hold on a bit,” said Taylor, who had his own ideas of how to give value for the extra sovereign he hoped to obtain. “I couldn’t see what it was he had thrown away, and, of course, I couldn’t pull up to find out. I drove on, but I kept my eye on him, though I had my back to him. As we were driving back along the Broad Walk I had another look at him, and bless me if he wasn’t crying—crying like a child. He had his hands up to his face and his head was shaking as if he was sobbing. I said to myself, ‘He’s barmy—he’s gone off his rocker.’ I thought to myself I ought to drive him to the police station, but I reckoned it was none of my business, after all, so I’ll take him to Verney’s and be done with it. So I drove to Verney’s. He got out, and paid me, but I couldn’t see that he had been crying, and he looked much as usual, so far as I could see. I thought to myself that perhaps, after all, he’d only had a queer turn; however, I said to myself I’d drive back to the bridge and see what he’d thrown out of the window. It was a glove, sure enough. It had fallen just below the railing. I looked about for the other one, but I couldn’t find it, so I suppose it must have fallen into the water.”
“No, it didn’t,” said Crewe. “I have it here.” He opened a drawer in his desk and produced a glove. “It was a right-hand glove you found. Just look at this one and see if it corresponds to the one you picked up.”
Taylor looked at the glove.
“They’re as like as two peas,” he said.
“What did you do with the one you found?” inquired Crewe. “I hope you didn’t throw it away?”
“I’m not a fool,” retorted Taylor. “I’ve had odd gloves left in my cab before. I kept this one thinking that sooner or later somebody might leave another like it, and then I’d have a pair for nothing.”
“Well, I’ll buy it from you,” said Crewe. “Have you anything more to tell me?”
“I went back to the rank and one of the chaps was curious that I’d been so long away, for he knew that Mr. Holymead’s place isn’t more than ten minutes’ drive from the station. But he got nothing out of me. I know how to keep my mouth shut. You’re the first man I’ve told what happened, and I hope you won’t give me away.”
“I’ve already promised you that,” said Crewe, flipping another sovereign from his sovereign case and handing it to Taylor, “and I’ll give you five shillings for the glove.”
Taylor looked at him darkly.
“Five shillings isn’t much for a glove like that,” he said insolently. “What about my loss of time going home for it? I suppose you’ll pay the taxi-fare for the run down from Hyde Park?”
“No, I won’t,” said Crewe cheerfully.
“Then I don’t see why I should bring it for a paltry five shillings,” said Taylor. “If you want the glove you’ll have to pay for it.”
“But I don’t want the glove,” said Crewe, who disliked being made the victim of extortion. “What made you think so? I’ll sell you this one for five shillings. We may as well do a deal of some kind; it is no use each of us having one glove. What do you say, Taylor? Will you buy mine for five shillings, or shall I buy yours?”