ON BOTH SIDES OF THE BIVEE The sun, transmuted into Greenwich time, exercised an extraordinary influence on the seemingly humdrum life of Steynholme that day.

A few minutes after three o'clock--just too late to observe either Winter or Siddle--P.C.

Robinson strolled forth from his cottage.

He glanced up the almost deserted high-street, in which every rounded cobble and white flagstone radiated heat.

A high-class automobile had dashed past twice in forty minutes, but the pace was on the borderland of doubt, so the guardian of the public weal had contented himself with recording its number on the return journey.
But his thoughts were far a-field from joyriders, stray cattle, hawkers without licenses, and other similar small fry which come into the constabulary net.