"Mister Simes?  Well there you are, then."

   "I know," Wal had said, "I know, but there's the odd few ton of metal lying round Ringwood and sod-all lying round here."

                                                 *      *      *

   "He always keeps that place of his clean, I'll give him that," Myrtle Prescott said, finding it necessary to defend herself against any unspoken charge that she might have gone soft.   "Not tidy, you can't expect that, but clean.   I only have to give him his supper and leave the kettle where he can find it when he gets up."

     "You're a good old girl, Myrtle," said John Perry.

    "Except of course he puts cocoa in the teapot.  He did once, anyway.   I put a label on the caddy after that.  I sometimes wonder if I'll find him polishing the furniture with margarine one day."

     "It'll come to all of us, I dare say."

     "Oh yes?  And how old are you, then?  Eh?  Constable Perry?"

     "Old enough to be responsible for what goes on in this community, as you'll find in the church register," John Perry said, "which is why I'm

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