held the balance of justice as became him, but weren't going
to believe no tales nor set the law in motion against Mr. Green until the
proofs stood before him.

It chanced that the under-keeper at Trusham was but three year older than
Samuel Borlase himself and a lifelong friend, so Samuel got influenced and
came to view Chawner Green very unfavourable. He found himself in rather a
delicate position then, but his simple rule was to do what he thought his
duty. To look at, Samuel was a big, hard man, rather on the lean side,
with a blue chin and a blue eye, which don't often go together. His brow
was a bit low and his brain didn't move far out of his appointed task; but
a country policeman has a lot of time on his hands, and upon his long
country beats, while his eyes surveyed the scene, Sam's intellects would
turn over affairs and, no doubt, arrive at conclusions about 'em. And his
conclusion about Chawner Green was that he must be a devious bird, else he
wouldn't be so idle. For Samuel held that a chap of five-and-fifty, and
hard as a nut, which Chawner Green was known to be, did ought to do honest
work--an occupation never connected in the public mind with Mr. Green.

There'd been a wedding a bit back along and Chawner's daughter had married
a respectable shopkeeper at a neighbouring town; and Samuel Borlase
reflected rather gloomily that the small shopkeeper was a fish and poultry
merchant--also a seller of game. To his policeman's mind there was a lot
more in that than met the eye; and no doubt the born policeman do see a
lot more in everything than what us everyday people may remark. Then, on a
lonely beat, one autumn day to the north side of Trusham, there came, like
a bolt from the blue, the great event of Sammy's life, not only from a
professional standpoint, but also an affair that led to far higher things
in the shape of a female.

There was a bit of rough, open land there that gave from the covert edge,
with scattered brake-fern and a stream in the midst and a lot of
blackthorn scrub round about. A noted place for a woodcock, also a snipe,
and a spot from which trespassers were warned very careful. So Samuel took
a look over to see that all was quiet, and there, in the midst, he marked
a big girl struggling with a sloe-bush! But, quick though he was, she'd
seen him first, and before he could call out and order her back to the
road and take her name, she cried out to him:

"Will 'e lend me a hand, Mister Po