Mrs. Negget regarded him with an expression which contained all the
Christian virtues rolled into one.

"Nothing," she said, softly. "I only want my brooch back."

The ex-constable shook his head at this leniency.

"Well, do as you please," he said, slowly. "In the first place, I want
you to ask Mrs. Driver here to tea to-morrow--oh, I don't mind Negget's
ridiculous ideas--pity he hasn't got something better to think of; if
she's guilty, I'll soon find it out. I'll play with her like a cat with
a mouse. I'll make her convict herself."

"Look here!" said Mr. Negget, with sudden vigour. "I won't have it.
I won't have no woman asked here to tea to be got at like that. There's
only my friends comes here to tea, and if any friend stole anything o'
mine, I'd be one o' the first to hush it up."

"If they were all like you, George," said his wife, angrily, "where would
the law be?"

"Or the police?" demanded Mr. Bodfish, staring at him.

"I won't have it!" repeated the farmer, loudly. "I'm the law here, and
I'm the police here. That little tiny bit o' dirt was off my boots, I
dare say. I don't care if it was."

"Very good," said Mr. Bodfish, turning to his indignant niece; "if he
likes to look at it that way, there's nothing more to be said. I only
wanted to get your brooch back for you, that's all; but if he's against