SERGEANT SMITH CALLS
national reputation. John Minute had no literary leanings.
The sergeant hesitated, wiped his heavy boots on the sodden mat outside the window, and walked into the room.
"You are pretty cozy, John," he said.
"What do you want?" asked Minute, without enthusiasm.
"I thought I 'd look you up. My constable reported your windows were open, and I felt it my duty to come along and warn you—there are thieves about, John."
"I know of one," said John Minute, looking at the other steadily. "Your constable, as you call him, is, I presume, that thick-headed jackass, Wiseman!"
"Got him first time," said the sergeant, removing his waterproof cape. "I don't often trouble you, but somehow I had a feeling I 'd like to see you to-night. My constable revived old memories, John."
"Unpleasant for you, I hope," said John Minute ungraciously.
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