"We had words," said the skipper. "I don't like policemen--fat
policemen--and while we were talking he happened to lose his balance and
go over into some mud that was swept up at the side of the road."

"Lost his balance?" gasped the horrified Miss Pilbeam.

The skipper was flattered at her concern. "You would have laughed if you
had seen him," he said, smiling. "Don't look so frightened; he hasn't
got me yet."

"No," said the girl, slowly. "Not yet."

She gazed at him with such a world of longing in her eyes that the
skipper, despite a somewhat large share of self-esteem, was almost
startled.

"And he shan't have me," he said, returning her gaze with interest.

Miss Pilbeam stood in silent thought. She was a strong, well-grown girl,
but she realized fully that she was no match for the villain who stood
before her, twisting his moustache and adjusting his neck-tie. And her
father would not be off duty until nine.

"I suppose you would like to wait here until it is dark?" she said at
last.

"I would sooner wait here than anywhere," said the skipper, with
respectful ardor.