'Wot's the gyme?'he asked.
'A bet,' I said. 'I haven't time to explain, but to win it I've got to
be a milkman for the next ten minutes. All you've got to do is to
stay here till I come back. You'll be a bit late, but nobody will
complain, and you'll have that quid for yourself.'
'Right-o!' he said cheerily. 'I ain't the man to spoil a bit of sport.
'Ere's the rig, guv'nor.'
I stuck on his flat blue hat and his white overall, picked up the
cans, banged my door, and went whistling downstairs. The porter
at the foot told me to shut my jaw, which sounded as if my make-up
was adequate.
At first I thought there was nobody in the street. Then I caught
sight of a policeman a hundred yards down, and a loafer shuffling
past on the other side. Some impulse made me raise my eyes to the
house opposite, and there at a first-floor window was a face. As the
loafer passed he looked up, and I fancied a signal was exchanged.
I crossed the street, whistling gaily and imitating the jaunty
swing of the milkman. Then I took the first side street, and went
up a left-hand turning which led past a bit of vacant ground. There
was no one in the little street, so I dropped the milk-cans inside the
hoarding and sent the cap and overall after them. I had only just
put on my cloth cap when a postman came round the corner. I gave
him good morning and he answered me unsuspiciously.
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