"One of the principles of Scout law, sir; to do a brave action with the prime motive of self-advertisement is deprecated by all true Scouts."
"Yet I notice names of Scout heroes frequently figure in the Press," added the Head, musingly.
"Possibly not with their consent, sir."
"There are volumes in the meaning of the word 'possibly,' Mr Trematon. However, the best thing you can do is to take Atherton over to the police-station. Ask that his identity may be concealed if practicable. They will telephone the description of the two assailants to the other stations, and in that way a tardy assistance may be rendered to the Force. Don't wait, it is late already."
"Very good sir. Do you want me——"
Mr Trematon's words were interrupted by a sharp knock at the study door, and in response to the Head's invitation Jellyboy, the porter, entered, followed by a stalwart constable.
"Good evening, sir," exclaimed the policeman, saluting. "I've been sent to make a few enquiries, sir; can I speak to you in private?"
"I do not think privacy is desirable, constable," replied the Rev. Septimus, who at times possessed a keen intuition. "You have called with reference to that case of attempted murder on Hungerford Bridge."
"You're right, sir," said the astonished policeman. "You'll excuse me, sir, but might I ask how you know?"
"Easily explained, constable. You have a parcel under your arm. It has been crushed. The brown paper covering has burst. I can see a portion of the contents: a boy's cap with the badge of Collingwood College. Since one of my pupils—this lad, as a matter of fact—has arrived without a cap, coat or boots, and has reported to me that he jumped into the Thames after a gentleman who was thrown over the bridge by a couple of roughs, it naturally follows that I can guess the nature of your errand."