llow, and don't make
a noise."

Avoiding every possible risk of being observed approaching, Bob
Thorp, led by the constable, made his way to the field where the
caravan stood. Tethered to the hedge close by was Charlie, and
securely roped to the van lay poor Dick.

"That's the dog," whispered Bob Thorp, excitedly.

Dick growled slightly at the faint sounds which now reached him, and
more violently when he recognised his old enemy.

"Lie down, can't you?" bellowed a hoarse voice, roughly; and walking
cautiously round to the front of the van they found the very man they
were in search of lying on the ground rolled in a rug, with a couple
of sacks over him. At the sight of Bob Thorp and the policeman he
sprang to his feet at once.

"Anything you want, gentlemen? Anything I can sell you?" he asked,
impudently. "A nice scrubbing-brush or--"

"'Tis you needs the scrubbing-brush, by the looks on you," said Bob,
cheekily.

"And I want you," said the constable, sharply.

"Want me? What for?" he demanded, indignantly; but his face had
suddenly turned an unhealthy gray colour, and in his eyes they could
plainly read his alarm.

"Passing bad money," answered the policeman, quietly.

"Who says so? Who brought that charge against me?"

"'Im," the policeman jerked his head and his thumb towards Bob.

"And who's he, that his word should be took agin mine? Who's to say
he hasn't been passing it himself, and--and of course he's got to put
it off on someone, when he's found out."

"Well, you can fight that out before the magistrates. You've got to
come along of me now. If you can explain it, that is all right, and
you will soon be back again."

"All right," said Tom, agreeing, because he saw the uselessness of
holding out. His brain was busy, though, trying to think out a plan.
"I must just step inside, and break it to my wife--"

"Oh yes, and empty your pockets of all the rest of the bad money
you've got!" burst out Bob, unable to control himself. "Likely tale
that, eh!"

The policeman stepped over and laid his hand on Tom Smith's
shoulder. "There's one or two other little matters too," he said.
"You're wanted for some little affair about a girl and a dog.
Is that the dog?"

"She's my own niece--"

"Is she? All right; you've only got to prove it, and that you're her
lawful guardian, and a fit and proper person--"

A sharp scream suddenly rent the air, and made them all start.
Emma Smith, waking fro