ise cos 'e'd be a stiff customer to
tackle. Likewise 'cos--"

He had broken off, and was peering fixedly upwards at an angle of 85 deg.
across the moonlit street. "Ullo!" he said in a hoarse whisper.

Striking an average between the direction of his eyes--for Judlip,
when on the job, has a soul-stirring squint--I perceived someone in
the act of emerging from a chimney-pot.

Judlip's voice clove the silence. "Wot are yer doin' hup there?"

The person addressed came to the edge of the parapet. I saw then that
he had a hoary white beard, a red ulster with the hood up, and what
looked like a sack over his shoulder. He said something or other in a
voice like a concertina that has been left out in the rain.

"I dessay," answered my friend. "Just you come down, an' we'll see
about that."

The old man nodded and smiled. Then--as I hope to be saved--he came
floating gently down through the moonlight, with the sack over his
shoulder and a young fir-tree clasped to his chest. He alighted in a
friendly manner on the curb beside us.

Judlip was the first to recover himself. Out went his right arm, and
the airman was slung round by the scruff of the neck, spilling his
sack in the road. I made a bee-line for his shoulder-blades. Burglar
or no burglar, he was the best airman out, and I was muchly desirous
to know the precise nature of the apparatus under his ulster. A
back-hander from Judlip's left caused me to hop quickly aside. The
prisoner was squealing and whimpering. He didn't like the feel of
Judlip's knuckles at his cervical vertebrae.

"Wot wos yer doin' hup there?" asked Judlip, tightening the grip.

"I'm S-Santa Claus, Sir. P-please, Sir, let me g-go"

"Hold him," I shouted. "He's a German."

"It's my dooty ter caution yer that wotever yer say now may be used
in hevidence against yer, yer old sinner. Pick up that there sack, an'
come along o' me."

The captive snivelled something about peace on earth, good will toward
men.

"Yuss," said Judlip. "That's in the Noo Testament, ain't it? The Noo
Testament contains some uncommon nice readin' for old gents an' young
ladies. But it ain't included in the librery o' the Force. We confine
ourselves to the Old Testament--O.T., 'ot. An' 'ot you'll get it. Hup
with that sack, an' quick march!"

I have seen worse attempts at a neck-wrench, but it was just not
slippery enough for Judlip. And the kick that Judlip then let fly was
a thing of beauty and a joy for ever.

"Fr