"I think I could," said Mr. Drill, slowly; "give me half an hour in the
kitchen and I'll try."

"Have as long as you like," said Mr. Gunnill.

"And I shall want some glue, and Miss Gunnill, and some tin-tacks," said
Drill.

"What do you want me for?" inquired Selina.

"To hold the things for me," replied Mr. Drill.

Miss Gunnill tossed her head, but after a little demur consented; and
Drill, ignoring the impatience of the constable, picked up his bag and
led the way into the kitchen. Messrs. Gunnill and Jenkins, left behind
in the living-room, sought for some neutral topic of discourse, but in
vain; conversation would revolve round hard labour and lost pensions.
From the kitchen came sounds of hammering, then a loud "Ooh!" from Miss
Gunnill, followed by a burst of laughter and a clapping of hands. Mr.
Jenkins shifted in his seat and exchanged glances with Mr. Gunnill.

[Illustration: "From the kitchen came sounds of hammering."]

"He's a clever fellow," said that gentleman, hopefully. "You should hear
him imitate a canary; life-like it is."

Mr. Jenkins was about to make a hasty and obvious rejoinder, when the
kitchen door opened and Selina emerged, followed by Drill. The snarl
which the constable had prepared died away in a murmur of astonishment as
he took the helmet. It looked as good as ever.