_Inspector._ Ha! Do you think I can be so easily baffled? (_Picking up telephone receiver._) There are other police in the neighbourhood. _Violet._ Not so. (_Slashes through the telephone cord with a knife_). _Gerald._ Bravo! _Inspector._ Oh, well, never mind. (_Puts his head out of the window and blows a police whistle. The others look at one another in consternation._) _Now_ I think I am master of the situation. _Clarkson._ Foiled! All the same, you are less fortunate than you imagine. When I said I was Mazzio, I lied. _Inspector._ Prove it. _Clarkson._ Easily. Mazzio has a scar on his left forearm. (_Rolling up sleeve._) I have none. _Inspector._ Oh, well, never mind. I can now proceed with the arrest of the murderer of Sir Frank Bulkeley, Bart. _Gerald_ (_aside_). I'm done for! _Clarkson._ There _must_ be some way of escape. Doc., it's up to you to do something. _Doctor._ With pleasure. I certify that Sir Frank died from heart disease. _Inspector_ (_stammering_). But--but--but he's _obviously_ shot. I mean to say---- _Doctor._ I certify that Sir Frank Bulkeley died from heart disease ten seconds before the bullet struck him. You can do nothing in the face of my certificate. _Gerald, Reggie and Violet._ Saved! CURTAIN. * * * * * This Wonderful World. "A Hamburg bookkeeper named Schute who has just celebrated his 8th birthday, has been with his employers for sixty years, while his son, his grandson, and his great-grandson are also working for them." _The Evening News._ * * * * * "During the last two years some marvellous 'finds' have been made at this wonderful fortress from time to time. It is intended to continue excavation work for a moth." _Denbighshire Free Press._ They can be caught much better with beer and treacle. * * * * * "LIBERAL MEMBER RESIGNS. WILL STAND AS INDEPENDENT. London, Wednesday.--Mr. Joseph Martin, Liberal M.P. for East St. Pancras, is resigning his seat, and will recontest it as an independent South Pole under American auspices."--_Sydney Daily Telegraph._ Sir ERNEST SHACKLETON must look out. * * * * * Illustration: _First Caddie._ "DOES IT MAKE YER DIZZY LOOKIN' DOWN THESE 'OLES?" _Second Caddie._ "No." _First Caddie._ "THEN WHY DON'T YOU GO TO THE PIN SOMETIMES?" * * * * * THE FIRST TEE. (_Mullion, July 17th._) It is the place, it is the place, my soul! (Blow, bugle, blow; sing, triangle; toot, fife!) Down to the sea the close-cropped pastures roll, Couches behind yon sandy hill the goal Whereat, it may be, after ceaseless strife The "Colonel" shall find peace, and Henry say, "Your hole" ...