"It must be a happy hunting ground for tramps?"
"I've seen some suspicious-looking coves about at times. But after dusk an army might be inside there and nobody would ever be the wiser."
"Burglaries frequent in the houses backing on to it?"
"Oh, no. A favorite game in these parts is snatching loaves and bottles of milk from the doors, first thing, as they're delivered. There's been an extra lot of it lately. My mate who relieves me has got special instructions to keep his eye open in the mornings!" The man grinned. "It wouldn't be a very big case even if he caught anybody!" "No," said Smith absently; "perhaps not. Your business must be a dry one this warm weather. Good-night."
"Good-night, sir," replied the constable, richer by half-a-crown—"and thank you."
Smith stared after him for a moment, tugging reflectively at the lobe of his ear.
"I don't know that it wouldn't be a big case, after all," he murmured. "Come on, Petrie."
Not another word did he speak, until we stood at the gate of Maple Cottage. There a plain-clothes man was standing, evidently awaiting Smith. He touched his hat.
"Have you found a suitable hiding-place?" asked my companion rapidly.
"Yes, sir," was the reply. "Kent—my mate—is there now. You'll notice that he can't be seen from here."