waved him away and fixed his eyes upon Drill.

"You think you're mighty clever, I dare say," he said, grimly; "but I can
put two and two together. I've just heard of it."

"Heard of two and two?" said Drill, looking puzzled.

"I don't want any of your nonsense," said Mr. Jenkins. "I'm not on duty
now, but I warn you not to say anything that may be used against you."

"I never do," said Mr. Drill, piously.

"Somebody threw a handful o' flour in poor Cooper's face a couple of
hours ago," said Mr. Jenkins, watching him closely, "and while he was
getting it out of his eyes they upset him and made off with his helmet
and truncheon. I just met Brown and he says Cooper's been going on like
a madman."

"By Jove! it's a good job I mended your helmet for you," said Mr. Drill,
"or else they might have suspected you."

Mr. Jenkins stared at him. "I know who did do it," he said,
significantly.

"Herbert Sims?" guessed Mr. Drill, in a stage whisper.

"You'll be one o' the first to know," said Mr. Jenkins, darkly; "he'll be
arrested to-morrow. Fancy the impudence of it! It's shocking."

Mr. Drill whistled. "Nell, don't let that little affair o' yours with
Sims be known," he said, quietly. "Have that kept quiet--if you can."

Mr. Jenkins started as though he had been stung. In the joy of a case he
had overlooked one or two things. He turned and regarded the young man
wistfully.

"Don't call on me as a witness, that's all," continued Mr. Drill. "I
never was a mischief-maker, and I shouldn't like to have to tell how you
lent your helmet to Sims so that he could pretend he had knocked Cooper
down and taken it from him."

[Illustration: "Don't call on me as a witness, that's all," continued Mr.
Drill.]

"Wouldn't look at all well," said Mr. Gunnill, nodding his head sagely.

Mr. Jenkins breathed hard and looked from one to the other. It was plain
that it was no good reminding them that he had not had a case for five
years.

"When I say that I know who did it," he said, slowly, "I mean that I have
my suspicions."

"Don't call on me as a witness, that's all,' continued Mr. Drill."

"Ah," said Mr. Drill, "that's a very different thing."

"Nothing like the same," said Mr. Gunnill, pouring the constable a glass
of ale.

Mr. Jenkins drank it and smacked his lips feebly.

"Sims needn't know anything about that helmet being repaired," he said at
last.

"Certainly not," said everybody.

Mr. Jenkins sighed a