hich is drawn upon thinks it ought
to have been some other division. But discipline and tact do great
things.

Rarely is there any cause for complaint, although the known fact that
the force is undermanned naturally entails hardships on individuals at
times.

Now let me introduce you to the Riddle Department at work. In the
telegraph-room of Scotland Yard one of a cluster of tape machines breaks
into hysterical chatter, and a constable springs to read the message of
the unreeling coil of paper. It is a message from the East End. A riot
has occurred which the local superintendent fears may become greater
than the force at his disposal will be able to cope with.

The constable dashes into an adjacent room with the message, and the
superintendent of the department takes in its import at a glance.

He picks up a typewritten table, and his finger glides to a particular
spot. That table tells him how many men a 5, 10, or 20 per cent. draft
from neighbouring divisions will give.

In another minute he is in consultation with Sir Frederick Wodehouse,
the Assistant Commissioner who controls the department, and possibly
with Sir Edward Henry himself. All three are men used to unhesitating
decisions, and with an intimate knowledge of the force.

A few sharp words and the private wires again begin to get busy. Almost
immediately the reserves from the neighbouring divisions commence to
mobilise, and are poured into the disturbed area as swiftly as means of
communication allow. It is a riddle solved with quiet precision, and no
district is bereft of adequate guardianship. One of the exigencies of
the business has been met.

If the public ever thought about such a feat at all, they would consider
it as something of a miracle. But it is not as spectacular as the
catching of a criminal, and the only persons who call indirect attention
to it are those who would have us believe that great, hulking policemen
have batoned helpless men and women who were, of course, doing nothing,
although broken bottles and stones may litter the thoroughfare where an
affray has taken place.

It is curious this suspicion of the police which sometimes affects
otherwise clear-headed people. You pick out men whose character is
without flaw from their childhood upwards. You put them into a blue
uniform, and lo! their whole personality alters. They are hypocrites and
bullies, bribed by bookmakers and prostitutes, and capable of any sort
of baseness.

L