It is possible that a judicious meekness on Sally's part might have averted disaster. Mr Cobb was human, and Sally was looking particularly attractive that morning. Meekness, however, did not come easily to Sally. In a speech which began as argument and ended (Mr Cobb proving solid and unyielding) as pure cheek, she utterly routed the constable. But her victory was only a moral one, for as she turned to go Mr Cobb, dull red and puffing slightly, was already entering particulars of the affair in his note-book, and Sally knew that the last word was with him. On her way back she met Tom Kitchener. He was looking very tough and strong, and at the sight of him a half-formed idea, which she had regretfully dismissed as impracticable, of assaulting Constable Cobb, returned to her in an amended form. Tom did not know it, but the reason why she smiled so radiantly upon him at that moment was that she had just elected him to the post of hired assassin. While she did not want Constable Cobb actually assassinated, she earnestly desired him to have his helmet smashed down over his eyes; and it seemed to her that Tom was the man to do it. She poured out her grievance to him and suggested her scheme. She even elaborated it. 'Why shouldn't you wait for him one night and throw him into the creek? It isn't deep, and it's jolly muddy.' 'Um!' said Tom, doubtfully. 'It would just teach him,' she pointed out. But the prospect of undertaking the higher education of the police did not seem to appeal to Tom. In his heart he rather sympathized with Constable Cobb. He saw the policeman's point of view. It is all very well to talk, but when you are stationed in a sleepy village where no one ever murders, or robs, or commits arson, or even gets drunk and disorderly in the street, a puppy without a collar is simply a godsend. A man must look out for himself. He tried to make this side of the question clear to Sally, but failed signally. She took a deplorable view of his attitude. 'I might have known you'd have been afraid,' she said, with a contemptuous jerk of her chin. 'Good morning.' Tom flushed. He knew he had never been afraid of anything in his life, except her; but nevertheless the accusation stung. And as he was still afraid of her he stammered as he began to deny the charge. 'Oh, leave off!' said Sally, irritably. 'Suck a lozenge.' 'I'm not afraid,' said Tom, condensing his remarks to their minimum as his only chance of being intelligible. 'You are.' 'I'm not. It's just that I--' A nasty gleam came into Sally's eyes. Her manner was haughty. 'It doesn't matter.' She paused. 'I've no doubt Ted Pringle will do what I want.' For all her contempt, she could not keep a touch of uneasiness from her eyes as she prepared to make her next remark. There was a look about Tom's set jaw which made her hesitate. But her temper had run away with her, and she went on.