unctions? Who is responsible? Perhaps my learned
friend the Home Secretary can enlighten us?" The Prime Minister
paused, and smiled happily to himself. He had at least made things
nasty for an intrusive colleague. But the Home Secretary, suave,
alert, was not to be caught. He at any rate was not prepared to admit
responsibility.

"It is possible, sir," he said, "that in some vague, undefined,
constitutional way I am responsible for the police service of the
United Kingdom. But happily my direct charge does not in practice
extend beyond England. The centre of disturbance appears to be on the
northern side of the Border, within the jurisdiction of the Secretary
for Scotland. It is possible that my right honourable friend who holds
that office, and whom I am pleased to see here with us, will answer
the Prime Minister's question. He is responsible for his obstreperous
countrymen." The Home Secretary paused, and also smiled happily to
himself. He had evaded a trap, and had involved an unloved colleague
in its meshes; what more could be required of a highly placed
Minister?

"God forbid!" cried the Scottish Secretary hastily. "These aggressive
and troublesome workmen are no countrymen of mine. It is true," he
added pensively, "that when I am in the North I claim that a somewhat
shadowy Scottish ancestry makes of me a Scot to the finger tips, but
no sooner do I cross the Border upon my return to London than I revert
violently to my English self. A kindly Providence has ordained that
the central Scottish Office should be in London, and my urgent duties
compel me to reside there permanently. Which is indeed fortunate. It
is true that technically my responsibilities cover everything, or
nearly everything, which occurs in the unruly North, but I do not
interfere with the discretion of those on the spot who know the local
conditions and can deal adequately with them. I am content to rest my
action upon the advice of those responsible authorities whose
considered opinions have been quoted by the Prime Minister."

The Prime Minister smiled no more. The wheel which he had jogged so
agreeably had come full round, and, in colloquial speech, had biffed
him in the eye. He fumbled the papers once more, and frowned.

"It seems to me," plaintively put in the First Lord of the Admiralty
(a political chief very different from the one whom Dawson encountered
in Chapter XII), "though I am a child in these high matters, that no
one is ever r