"Woooot?" bawled Charlie.

"Ruddy drum won't go up," cried Ted.

"All right, you stay down there, you can 'ear us and keep time," was the response.

The drummer subsided on to a sack of potatoes. Mr. Hearty approached him.

"What are you doing here? You're not my band," he said, eyeing the man apprehensively.

The drummer looked up with the insolence of a man who sees before him indecision.

"Who the blinkin' b.u.t.tercups said we was?" he demanded.

"But what are you doing here?" persisted Mr. Hearty.

"Oh!" responded the man with elaborate civility, "we come to play forfeits, wot jer think?"

At that moment from the room above the shop the band broke into full blast with "Shall We Gather at the River." The drummer made a grab at his sticks, but was late, and for the rest of the piece, was a beat behind in all his bangs.

Mr. Hearty looked helplessly about him. Another cheer from without caused him to walk to the door. Outside, the "Pull for the Sh.o.r.e, Sailor," faction was performing valiantly. Their blood was up, and they were determined that no one should gather at the river if they could prevent it.

In the distance several more bands were heard, and the pounding became terrific. All traffic had been stopped, and an inspector of police was pushing his way through the crowd in the direction of Mr. Hearty.

Bindle joined the inspector, saluting him elaborately.

The inspector eyed Mr. Hearty with official disapproval.

"You must send these men away, sir," he said with decision.

"But--but," said Mr. Hearty, "I can't."

"But you must," said the inspector. "There will be a summons, of course," he added warningly.

"But--why?" protested Mr. Hearty.

The inspector looked at Mr. Hearty, and then gazed up and down Putney High Street. He was annoyed.

"You have blocked the whole place, sir. We've had to stop the trams coming round the Putney Bridge Road. Hi!" he shouted to the drummer who was conscientiously earning his salary.

"Stop that confounded row there!"

The man did not hear.

"Stop it, I say!" shouted the inspector.

The drummer stopped.

"Wot's the matter?" he enquired.

"You're causing an obstruction," said the inspector warningly.

"Ted!" yelled the voice of the leader at the top of the house, who was gathering at the river upon the cornet in a fine frenzy, "wot the 'ell are you stoppin' for?"

"It's the pleece," yelled back Ted informatively.

"The cheese?" bawled back Charlie. "Shouldn't eat it; it always makes you ill. Go ahead and bang that ruddy drum."

"Can't," yelled Ted. "They'll run me in."

The leader was evidently determined not to bandy words with his subordinate. He could be heard pounding down the stairs two at a time, still doing his utmost to interpret the pleasures awaiting Putney in the hereafter. The cornet could be heard approaching nearer and nearer becoming bra.s.sier and bra.s.sier. The leader was a note behind the rest by the time he had got to the bottom of the stairs. Arrived in the shop he stopped suddenly at the sight of the inspector.

"Tell them to stop that infernal row," ordered the officer.

He, who had been addressed as Charlie, looked from Mr. Hearty to the inspector.

"There ain't no law that can stop me," he said with decision, "I'm on the enclosed premises. Go ahead, Ted," he commanded, turning to the drummer, "take it out of 'er," and, resuming his cornet, Charlie picked up the tune and raced up the stairs again, leaving Ted "taking it out of 'er" in a way that more than made up for the time he had lost.

The inspector bit his lip. Turning to Mr. Hearty he said, "You will be charged with causing obstruction with all this tomfoolery."

"But--but--it isn't mine," protested Mr. Hearty weakly. "I know nothing about it."

"Nonsense!" said the inspector. "Look at those animals out there."

Mr. Hearty looked, and then looked back at the inspector, who said something; but Mr. Hearty could only see the movement of his lips. The babel became almost incredible. Three more bands had arrived, making five altogether, and there was a sound in the distance that indicated the approach of others. For the first time in his life Ted was experiencing the sweets of being able legally to defy the law, and he was enjoying to the full a novel experience.

At that moment Mrs. Bindle pushed her way into the shop. She had been out to get a better view of what was taking place. She stopped and stared from Mr. Hearty to the inspector, and then back to Mr. Hearty.

"I--I don't know what it means," he stammered, feeling that something was required of him; but no one heard him.

Bindle, who had hitherto been quiet in the presence of his superior officer, now took a hand in matters.

"Look 'ere, 'Earty," he shouted during a lull in the proceedings, "advertis.e.m.e.nt's advertis.e.m.e.nt, an' very nice too, but this 'ere is obstruction. Ain't that right, sir?" he said, addressing the inspector; but the inspector did not hear him, it is doubtful if Mr.

Hearty heard, for at that moment there had turned into the High Street from Wandsworth Bridge Road a double-drummed band playing something with a slight resemblance to "Gospel Bells," a melody that gives a wonderful opportunity for the trombones.

There were now one band upstairs and five in the High Street, as near to the shop as they could cl.u.s.ter, and a seventh approaching. All were striving to interpret Moody and Sankey as Moody and Sankey had never been interpreted before.

The inspector walked out on to the pavement, and vainly strove to signal to two of his men whose helmets could be seen among the crowd.

Mr. Hearty's eyes followed the officer, but he soon became absorbed in other things. From the Wimbledon end of the High Street he saw bobbing about in the crowd a number of brilliant green caps with yellow braid upon them. The glint of bra.s.s in their neighbourhood forewarned him that another band was approaching. From the bobbing movement of the caps, it was obvious that the men were fighting their way in the direction of his, Mr. Hearty's shop.

Glancing in the other direction, Mr. Hearty saw a second stream of dark green and red caps, likewise making for him. When the leader of the green and yellow caps, a good-natured little man carrying a cornet, burst through the crowd, it was like spring breaking in upon winter. The brilliant green tunic with its yellow braid was dazzling in the sunlight, and Mr. Hearty blinked his eyes several times.

"'Ot day, sir," said the little man genially as he took off his cap and, with the edge of his forefinger, removed the sweat from his brow, giving it a flick that sent some of the moisture on to Mr. Hearty, causing him to start back suddenly.

"Sorry, sir," said the man apologetically. "Afraid I splashed you. I suppose we go right through and up. Come along, Razor," he yelled to the last of his bandsmen, a thin, weedy youth, who was still vainly endeavouring to cut his way through the crowd.

Suddenly the little man saw the first drummer banging away vigorously.

"'Ullo, got another little lot inside! You don't 'alf know 'ow to advertise, mister," he said admiringly.