THE ARREST.
"Excuse me, but can you tell me which is Hunter Street?" said the tall pleasant-looking man with the slightly foreign aspect.
"Hunter Street," I said, waving a vague hand, "lies over there. It is," I continued, fixing him with a stern look, "for constabulary purposes a chapel-of-ease to Bow Street."
He did not seem in the least perturbed.
"Ah!" he said, "a special constable, I suppose?"
I was only going on duty—theoretically I am never off duty—but I am missing no chances.
"Yes," I said, "I am. Do you mind telling me, quite between ourselves, you know, whether you are a German spy?"
He smiled slightly.
"Because if you are," I said, "perhaps you wouldn't mind holding on a minute. The strap of my truncheon has (tug) got fouled (tug) with my (tug) braces."