him closely, "and while he was
getting it out of his eyes they upset him and made off with his helmet
and truncheon. I just met Brown and he says Cooper's been going on like
a madman."

"By Jove! it's a good job I mended your helmet for you," said Mr. Drill,
"or else they might have suspected you."

Mr. Jenkins stared at him. "I know who did do it," he said,
significantly.

"Herbert Sims?" guessed Mr. Drill, in a stage whisper.

"You'll be one o' the first to know," said Mr. Jenkins, darkly; "he'll be
arrested to-morrow. Fancy the impudence of it! It's shocking."

Mr. Drill whistled. "Nell, don't let that little affair o' yours with
Sims be known," he said, quietly. "Have that kept quiet--if you can."

Mr. Jenkins started as though he had been stung. In the joy of a case he
had overlooked one or two things. He turned and regarded the young man
wistfully.

"Don't call on me as a witness, that's all," continued Mr. Drill. "I
never was a mischief-maker, and I shouldn't like to have to tell how you
lent your helmet to Sims so that he could pretend he had knocked Cooper
down and taken it from him."

[Illustration: "Don't call on me as a witness, that's all," continued Mr.
Drill.]

"Wouldn't look at all well," said Mr. Gunnill, nodding his head sagely.

Mr. Jenkins breathed hard and looked from one to the other. It was plain
that it was no good reminding them that he had not had a case for five
years.

"When I say that I know who did it," he said, slowly, "I mean that I have
my suspicions."

"Don't call on me as a witness, that's all,' continued Mr. Drill."

"Ah," said Mr. Drill, "that's a very different thing."

"Nothing like the same," said Mr. Gunnill, pouring the constable a glass
of ale.

Mr. Jenkins drank it and smacked his lips feebly.

"Sims needn't know anything about that helmet being repaired," he said at
last.

"Certainly not," said everybody.

Mr. Jenkins sighed and turned to Drill.

"It's no good spoiling the ship for a ha'porth o' tar," he said, with a
faint suspicion of a wink. "No," said Drill, looking puzzled.

"Anything that's worth doing at all is worth doing well," continued the
constable, "and while I'm drinking another glass with Mr. Gunnill here,
suppose you go into the kitchen with that useful bag o' yours and finish
repairing my truncheon?"

End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Changing Numbers, by W.W. Jacobs

*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EB