"Good morning, Miss Earp," said Denry, when she opened the door. "I've come about the rent."

One day in July Denry knocked at the door of a house at the top of Brougham Street. The dancing teacher, Miss Ruth Earp, lived there, in a house owned by Mr Calvert, and Denry now collected Mr Calvert's rents for him.

Ruth Earp gave a hard little laugh. "I see," she said. "so Mr Herbert Calvert is paying you to do his dirty work now. I must tell you, Mr Machin, that not long ago Mr Calvert was more interested in me than in my rent. But when I decided that I could not return his interest, he said things which hurt me very much -- very much indeed."

"Yes. I collect rents for Mr Calvert now," Denry said. He did not like the "little boy" look on her face, and added, "You haven't paid any rent for more than a year."

"The rent?" said Ruth, surprised. She gave him a look which seemed to say, "Why does a little boy like you ask about my rent?"

"But if you can't pay your rent, Miss Earp, I'm afraid you'll have to leave."

"Oh," said Denry. He told himself that he was here on business.

Ruth had introduced Denry to dancing, and now she introduced him to taking tea. It was all very beautifully done -- tea in very small cups, little squares of bread-and-butter, and interesting conversation. Ruth seemed much more friendly today, and Denry found it all very pleasant.

"Is something the matter?" asked Denry.

Ruth looked at him, and then gave a slow, sad smile. "Of course I can pay it," she said gently. "I just wanted to punish Mr Calvert a little. I can't pay you just at this moment, I'm afraid. The bank is closed. Can you come back tomorrow? Come at four o'clock, and I'll give you a cup of tea."

The next day Denry returned. It was the first time he had taken tea with a young lady, and so he had put on his best summer suit. He noticed that Ruth was wearing a very pretty dress -- something white with bits of pink in it.

Then suddenly Ruth stopped speaking, and lay back in her chair with her eyes closed.

"I'm afraid I've got an awful headache," she answered.

"I'm sorry," said Denry. "Is there anything I can do? Perhaps you should lie down. Would you like me to go?"

"But I must pay you the rent first." She put her hand to her head. "The money's in that desk. Could you get it for me?"

She gave Denry a key. He went over to the desk, put the key in the lock, and tried to turn it. Nothing happened, and then the key turned and turned. "I can't open it," he said.

Ruth stood up, holding her head. She came over to the desk, and tried the key. "Oh dear. I'm afraid you've broken the lock. I'll have to get someone to mend it tomorrow morning, and then I'll bring the money round to you."

"Don't worry," said Denry. "I can easily call back for it tomorrow. And I'm very sorry about the lock."

Late that night Denry came home from an evening at the Sports Club and just as he reached his mother's house, he saw something strange at the top end of Brougham Street. A large furniture van was moving down the street all on its own; there were no horses. Clearly, the owner had left it there and forgotten to put on the brakes. It was moving slowly now, but Denry could see that when it reached the bottom of Brougham Street, it could be very dangerous.

"Well, well!" he said aloud to himself.

Denry was always at his finest at difficult or dangerous moments. As the van passed him, moving at about five or six kilometres an hour, he jumped on, losing his hat, and tried to put the brakes on. For a second or two the van seemed to slow down, but then Denry realized that the brakes were not working and the van was moving faster and faster down the hill. At the bottom of the street was the canal, and clearly nothing was going to stop the van now. It was too late to jump off, so Denry closed his eyes and held on hard.

When the van went in, Denry was under water for a moment, but then he managed to climb further up on the front of the van. Everything was still and dark, except for a little starlight on the water. Only Denry had seen the van's strange journey down the hill.

"Not Mr Machin?" said the voice.

And a voice answered from inside the van: "Who's there?"

"Yes," said he. "I jumped on as it came down the street -- and here we are!"

Denry's heart seemed to stop beating. "It's me!" he said.

He had to climb over the roof of the van to get to the back. The van was black inside, and the floor was under fifty centimetres of water.

"You're a bad girl, you know," he said.

"I'm here. I'm on a table. It's the only thing the men put in the van before they went to have their supper."

It was Ruth Earp's voice. Denry understood immediately. Ruth had played with him! She had planned to take her furniture and run away in the night. She had no rent money locked in her desk at all. But he was not angry with her, just amused. Ruth was really very clever -- in fact, very like Denry himself.

Denry felt around until he touched her wet dress.

"Oh!" cried the voice. "I wish you could get round to me."

Ruth started to cry. "I know," she said miserably. "But I had no money. What could I do?"

"Where are you?"

Denry climbed on to the table next to her.

"What can we do now?" she whispered.

So they waited. On a hot July night it is not unpleasant to sit in the dark with your feet in water. Ruth told Denry all about her life and her money problems.

"Wait until it gets light," said he.

"Go home by the back streets, not up Brougham Street," said Denry. "I'll come and see you in the morning."

When it started to get light, Denry saw that the back of the van was only a metre from the edge of the canal, so they jumped. In the grey early light they looked at one another. Ruth had a black eye, and Denry had lost his hat.

One morning Denry went to see Mr Herbert Calvert and gave him ten pounds which he said came from Ruth Earp.

It was four o'clock in the morning when Denry went quietly up his mother's stairs. He had seen nobody.

"Are you engaged to her?" asked Calvert.

Calvert gave Denry a strange look. "What's going on?" he asked. "Is it true that she was trying to leave without paying?"

Denry waited for a moment. "Yes," he said. "Are you?"

Only two people in Bursley ever knew exactly what had happened that night. Everybody knew that Denry had tried to save the town from a dangerous runaway van and had ended in the canal. But as well as this one fact, there were a great many stories about the accident, and in these stories the names of Denry and Ruth were always appearing.

"I don't think so. It's all very extraordinary. I think the van was at the wrong house."

And Denry thought to himself that few engagements had begun as strangely as theirs.