The day after our home-coming my box and I were marched to the committee. I've had some bad times there, but nothing quite so bad before. The way an old girl gushed about the "darlings" (whoever they were) parting with their jewellery simply wearied me. As soon as Mabel felt strong enough to walk we went home. She seemed to forget that the haul was entirely due to me. Yet she's a wonderful memory for some things. Ever since breakfast to-day she's done nothing but talk about a daring robbery at Winklebeach, and looks at me in the most extraordinary manner. I don't know what Winklebeach may be, but it's as clear as daylight that she's thinking of the six sweet biscuits that I stole behind her back at her last "At home." But how did she find out? * * * * * OUR FIRST CAPTURE. By SPECIAL CONSTABLE XXX. You must understand that the work of the Special Constable is so utterly dreary that we heave sighs of envy on seeing one of our number, an L.C.C. employee, being allowed to clean the windows of a public building. The lucky dog! Imagine, therefore, our joy at receiving a staff order to watch out for motor-cars with hoggish headlights, and report their numbers to headquarters. We were not to arrest them--even if we could. Within half an hour of the staff order we registered Our First Capture. Myself, I received a fleeting impression of LL--8183; my colleague took it for LS--6163. An amicable discussion ensued. I pointed out that LS might mean London Scottish, who should be allowed to go scot free; he countered with the suggestion that LL might stand for LLOYD GEORGE, who should also be above the law. We tossed for it. I won. The honour fell to me to report the capture. "Sergeant, oblige me by recording the following episode in your official notebook: Special Constable XXX has the honour to report that on or about the 15th instant, in the year of grace----" "Is there much more like this?" "Don't rob me of my hour of glory. I've had four blank months.... In the year of grace 1914, at the hour of 5.15, post meridian, at the corner of ---- Street, a motor-car contravening, traversing or otherwise infringing His Majesty's Regulations promulgated by the Secretary of State for Home Affairs, pursuant to an Order in Council----" "What was its number?" demanded the Sergeant crudely. "LL--8183, Sir. And I have the honour to suspect that it belonged to the Right Hon. DAVID LLOYD GEORGE."