one of Mr. Cooper's brother-constables was thrust into the room.

Mr. Gunnill gazed at it in helpless fascination. The body of the
constable garbed in plain clothes followed the face and, standing before
him in a menacing fashion, held out a broken helmet and staff.

"Have you seen these afore?" he inquired, in a terrible voice.

"No," said Mr. Gunnill, with an attempt at surprise. "What are they?"

"I'll tell you what they are," said Police-constable Jenkins,
ferociously; "they're my helmet and truncheon. You've been spoiling His
Majesty's property, and you'll be locked up."

"Yours?" said the astonished Mr. Gunnill.

"I lent 'em to young Sims, just for a joke," said the constable. "I felt
all along I was doing a silly thing."

"It's no joke," said Mr. Gunnill, severely. "I'll tell young Herbert
what I think of him trying to deceive me like that."

"Never mind about deceiving," interrupted the constable. "What are you
going to do about it?"

"What are you?" inquired Mr. Gunnill, hardily. "It seems to me it's
between you and him; you'll very likely be dismissed from the force, and
all through trying to deceive. I wash my hands of it."

"You'd no business to lend it," said Drill, interrupting the constable's