his head. "Like as not it'll be kept quiet for the credit
of the force," he said, slowly, "unless, of course, they discover who did
it."

A slight shade fell on the good-humoured countenance of Mr. Gunnill, but
it was chased away almost immediately by Sims reminding him of the chaff
of Cooper's brother-constables.

"And you might take the others away," said Mr. Gunnill, brightening; "you
might keep on doing it."

Mr. Sims said doubtfully that he might, but pointed out that Cooper would
probably be on his guard for the future.

"Yes, you've done your share," said Miss Gunnill, with a half-glance at
Mr. Drill, who was still gazing in a bewildered fashion at the trophies.
"You can come into the kitchen and help me draw some beer if you like."

Mr. Sims followed her joyfully, and reaching down a jug for her watched
her tenderly as she drew the beer. All women love valour, but Miss
Gunnill, gazing sadly at the slight figure of Mr. Sims, could not help
wishing that Mr. Drill possessed a little of his spirit.

[Illustration: "Mr. Sims watched her tenderly as she drew the beer."]

She had just finished her task when a tremendous bumping noise was heard
in the living-room, and the plates on the dresser were nearly shaken off
their shelves.

"What's that?" she cried.

They ran to the room and stood aghast in the doorway at the spectacle of
Mr. Gunnill, with his clenched fists held tightly by his side, bounding
into the air with all the grace of a trained acrobat, while Mr. Drill
encouraged him from an easy-chair. Mr. Gunnill smiled broadly as he met
their astonished gaze, and with a final bound kicked something along the
floor and subsided into his seat panting.

Mr. Sims, suddenly enlightened, uttered a cry of dismay and, darting
under the table, picked up what had once been a policeman's helmet. Then
he snatched a partially consumed truncheon from the fire, and stood white
and trembling before the astonished Mr. Gunnill.

"What's the matter?" inquired the latter. "You--you've spoilt 'em,"
gasped Mr. Sims. "What of it?" said Mr. Gunnill, staring.

"I was--going to take 'em away," stammered Mr. Sims.

"Well, they'll be easier to carry now," said Mr. Drill, simply.

Mr. Sims glanced at him sharply, and then, to the extreme astonishment of
Mr. Gunnill, snatched up the relics and, wrapping them up in the paper,
dashed out of the house. Mr. Gunnill turned a look of blank inquiry upon
Mr. Drill.

"It wasn't