r.

"I should never ha' thought of it by myself," said the farmer; "but I
think they'd make a very nice couple, and I'm sure Mrs. Driver thinks
so."

The ex-constable sat down in wrathful confusion, and taking up his
notebook again, watched over the top of it the silent charges and
countercharges of his niece and her husband.

"If I put my finger on the culprit," he asked at length, turning to his
niece, "what do you wish done to her?"

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
it--"

"I'm against your asking Mrs. Driver here to my house to be got at," said
the farmer.

"O' course if you can find out who took the brooch, and get it back again
anyway, that's another matter."

Mr. Bodfish leaned over the table toward his niece.

"If I get an opportunity, I'll search her cottage," he said, in a low
voice. "Strictly speaking, it ain't quite a legal thing to do, o course,
but many o' the finest pieces of detective work have been done by
breaking the law. If she's a kleptomaniac, it's very likely lying about
somewhere in the house."

He eyed Mr. Negget closely, as though half expecting another outburst,
but none being forth