s a skilled mechanic, a soldier--some say
he has a general's uniform hid away in his house--an electrical
engineer, and a telegraph operator. He has been all over the world in
the Royal Navy, and could if he liked be commanding a ship now. He's
the friend of Ministers and Secretaries of State. He's the best
detective that the Yard ever knew, and he preaches to folk here
like--like the Archangel Gabriel come to trot 'em off to Hell. I'm a
Wesleyan, myself, but I often go to hear the Chief Inspector. He makes
one come out in a cold sweat, and gives a man a fine appetite for
dinner. He shakes you up so that you feel empty," he explained.

I observed that if Dawson were so great a stimulus upon appetite, he
would not be popular with the Food Controller. The policeman, though
he had heard of the Food Controller, was unconscious of his many
activities, which shows how little the world knows of its greatest
men. It also suggests that police constables do not read newspapers.

The chapel was a building illustrative of the straight line and plane.
It was fairly large, and so full that the crowd of worshippers bulged
out of the doors. Though we could not force our way inside, we could
hear the booming of a voice which was scarcely recognisable as that of
Dawson. Waves of emotion ran so strongly through the congregation that
we could feel them beat against the fringes by the doors. "The Chief
Inspector is on his game to-day," whispered the constable. "He's
hitting them fine." From which I judged that the constable had in his
youth come from the north, where golf is cheap. It was a
disappointment that I could not get in, but perhaps well for the
reader. The temptation to record a genuine sermon by Dawson might have
proved too much for me. Presently the voice ceased to boom, the
congregation squeezed out hot and oily, like grease from a full
barrel, and I waited for Dawson to appear. "Don't speak to him now,"
directed my guide. "Let him get up to his house. He can't talk for
half an hour after holding forth; there's not a word bad or good left
in his carcase."

After all the worshippers had gone there issued forth a party of
three: a man, a woman, and a little girl. "There he is," said the
constable, nudging me. "Who?" asked I. "The Chief Inspector. There he
is with Mrs. Dawson and their little girl." I stared and stared, but
failed to recognise my friend of the north. I was too far away to see
his ears, and his face was quite st