He went, despite his daughter's utmost efforts to prevent him, and she
sat in silent consternation, listening to his heavy tread overhead. She
heard the bed creak in noisy protest as he climbed in, and ten minutes
later the lusty snoring of a healthy man of full habit resounded through
the house.

She went to bed herself at last, and, after lying awake for nearly a
couple of hours, closed her eyes in order to think better. She awoke
with the sun pouring in at the window and the sounds of vigorous brushing
in the yard beneath.

"I've nearly got it off," said the sergeant, looking up. "It's
destroying evidence in a sense, I suppose; but I can't go about with my
uniform plastered with mud. I've had enough chaff about it as it is."

Miss Pilbeam stole to the door of the next room and peeped stealthily in.
Not a sound came from the cupboard, and a horrible idea that the prisoner
might have been suffocated set her trembling with apprehension.

"H'sh!" she whispered.

An eager but stifled "H'st!" came from the cup-board, and Miss Pilbeam,
her fears allayed, stepped softly into the room.

"He's downstairs brushing the mud off," she said, in a low voice.

"Who is?" said the skipper.

"The fat policeman," said the girl, in a hard voice, as she remembered