The constable smiled.
“Beg pardon, sir. That’s just what criminals make a point of saying when you charge ’em. Not as I mean, sir,” he added hastily, “that you are a criminal, far from it.”
“Thank you, my man, I hope not. But what in the name of common sense has put it into your head that my pupil, Mr Distin, could be guilty of such a terrible deed? Oh, it’s absurd—I mean monstrous.”
The constable looked at him stolidly, and then said slowly:
“Suckumstarnces, sir, and facks.”
“But, really, my good man, I—Stop! You said you had been over to the town and met your chief officer. Surely you have not started this shocking theory there.”
“Oh, yes, sir. In dooty bound. I told him my suspicions.”
“Well, what did he say?”
The constable hesitated, coughed, and pulled himself tightly together.
“I asked you what your chief officer said, sir.”