"By Jove! it's a good job I mended your helmet for you," said Mr. Drill, "or else they might have suspected you."
Mr. Jenkins stared at him. "I know who did do it," he said, significantly.
"Herbert Sims?" guessed Mr. Drill, in a stage whisper.
"You'll be one o' the first to know," said Mr. Jenkins, darkly; "he'll be arrested to-morrow. Fancy the impudence of it! It's shocking."
Mr. Drill whistled. "Nell, don't let that little affair o' yours with Sims be known," he said, quietly. "Have that kept quiet—if you can."
Mr. Jenkins started as though he had been stung. In the joy of a case he had overlooked one or two things. He turned and regarded the young man wistfully.
"Don't call on me as a witness, that's all," continued Mr. Drill. "I never was a mischief-maker, and I shouldn't like to have to tell how you lent your helmet to Sims so that he could pretend he had knocked Cooper down and taken it from him."
"Wouldn't look at all well," said Mr. Gunnill, nodding his head sagely.