“If I—­I only get a chance at Cooper!” murmured Mr. Sims, vaguely.

To his surprise, Mr. Gunnill started up from his chair and, gripping his hand, shook it fervently.  He looked round, and Selina was regarding him with a glance so tender that he lost his head completely.  Before he had recovered he had pledged himself to lay the helmet and truncheon of the redoubtable Mr. Cooper at the feet of Miss Gunnill; exact date not specified.

“Of course, I shall have to wait my opportunity,” he said, at last.

“You wait as long as you like, my boy,” said the thoughtless Mr. Gunnill.

Mr. Sims thanked him.

“Wait till Cooper’s an old man,” urged Mr. Drill.

Miss Gunnill, secretly disappointed at the lack of boldness and devotion on the part of the latter gentleman, eyed his stalwart frame indignantly and accused him of trying to make Mr. Sims as timid as himself.  She turned to the valiant Sims and made herself so agreeable to that daring blade that Mr. Drill, a prey to violent jealousy, bade the company a curt good-night and withdrew.

He stayed away for nearly a week, and then one evening as he approached the house, carrying a carpet-bag, he saw the door just opening to admit the fortunate Herbert.  He quickened his pace and arrived just in time to follow him in.  Mr. Sims, who bore under his arm a brown-paper parcel, seemed somewhat embarrassed at seeing him, and after a brief greeting walked into the room, and with a triumphant glance at Mr. Gunnill and Selina placed his burden on the table.

[Illustration:  “He saw the door just opening to admit the fortunate Herbert.”]

“You—­you ain’t got it?” said Mr. Gunnill, leaning forward.

“How foolish of you to run such a risk!” said Selina.

“I brought it for Miss Gunnill,” said the young man, simply.  He unfastened the parcel, and to the astonishment of all present revealed a policeman’s helmet and a short boxwood truncheon.

“You—­you’re a wonder,” said the gloating Mr. Gunnill.  “Look at it, Ted!”

Mr. Drill was looking at it; it may be doubted whether the head of Mr. Cooper itself could have caused him more astonishment.  Then his eyes sought those of Mr. Sims, but that gentleman was gazing tenderly at the gratified but shocked Selina.

“How ever did you do it?” inquired Mr. Gunnill.

“Came behind him and threw him down,” said Mr. Sims, nonchalantly.  “He was that scared I believe I could have taken his boots as well if I’d wanted them.”

Mr. Gunnill patted him on the back.  “I fancy I can see him running bare-headed through the town calling for help,” he said, smiling.

Mr. Sims shook his head.  “Like as not it’ll be kept quiet for the credit of the force,” he said, slowly, “unless, of course, they discover who did it.”

A slight shade fell on the good-humoured countenance of Mr. Gunnill, but it was chased away almost immediately by Sims reminding him of the chaff of Cooper’s brother-constables.