strong, and at the sight of him a half-formed idea, which she had
regretfully dismissed as impracticable, of assaulting Constable Cobb,
returned to her in an amended form. Tom did not know it, but the
reason why she smiled so radiantly upon him at that moment was that she
had just elected him to the post of hired assassin. While she did not
want Constable Cobb actually assassinated, she earnestly desired him
to have his helmet smashed down over his eyes; and it seemed to her
that Tom was the man to do it.

She poured out her grievance to him and suggested her scheme. She even
elaborated it.

'Why shouldn't you wait for him one night and throw him into the creek?
It isn't deep, and it's jolly muddy.'

'Um!' said Tom, doubtfully.

'It would just teach him,' she pointed out.

But the prospect of undertaking the higher education of the police did
not seem to appeal to Tom. In his heart he rather sympathized with
Constable Cobb. He saw the policeman's point of view. It is all very
well to talk, but when you are stationed in a sleepy village where no
one ever murders, or robs, or commits arson, or even gets drunk and
disorderly in the street, a puppy without a collar is simply a godsend.
A man must look out for himself.

He tried to make this side of the question clear to Sally, but failed
signally. She took a deplorable view of his attitude.