[Flying Dutchman 01] - Castaways Of The Flying Dutchman - Plot & Excerpts
One house was for the station sergeant, who often traveled to outlying communities, the other for the station constable, who attended to village matters and kept the station house ledger up to date. Constable Judmann was tending to the rosebushes in his front garden; he was an enthusiastic gardener, a big, beefy fellow close to middle age. Seeing the two boys running ahead of the dairy cart, he wiped his hands on a cloth, and donning a uniform jacket, he buttoned it up from his ample stomach to a bull-like neck. Taking his helmet from the windowsill, he put it on and strode up the garden path with suitable dignity. He nodded at Alex. “G’mornin’, young feller, an’ wot can we do for you, eh?” The gig pulled up and Mackay dismounted. “It’s all right, Constable, the boys are with us.” The policeman tipped a finger respectfully to his helmet brim. He had always been slightly in awe of Mackay, feeling that solicitors and lawyers were a cut above normal folk. “Mr. Mackay, sir, wot brings you up ’ere, summat wrong?”
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