"I felt
all along I was doing a silly thing."
"It's no joke," said Mr. Gunnill, severely. "I'll tell young Herbert
what I think of him trying to deceive me like that."
"Never mind about deceiving," interrupted the constable. "What are you
going to do about it?"
"What are you?" inquired Mr. Gunnill, hardily. "It seems to me it's
between you and him; you'll very likely be dismissed from the force, and
all through trying to deceive. I wash my hands of it."
"You'd no business to lend it," said Drill, interrupting the constable's
indignant retort; "especially for Sims to pretend that he had stolen it
from Cooper. It's a roundabout sort of thing, but you can't tell of Mr.
Gunnill without getting into trouble yourself."
"I shall have to put up with that," said the constable, desperately;
"it's got to be explained. It's my day-helmet, too, and the night one's
as shabby as can be. Twenty years in the force and never a mark against
my name till now."
"If you'd only keep quiet a bit instead of talking so much," said Mr.
Drill, who had been doing some hard thinking, "I might be able to help
you, p'r'aps."
"How?" inquired the constable.
"Help him if you can, Ted," said Mr. Gunnill, eagerly; "we ought all to
help others when we get a chance.
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