Every time I see mention of a girl bandit, says Showman in the "Daily Herald," I wonder that our police are not more enterprising. For these girls are always described as blondes, and they are always waiting in cars for their male colleagues to finish their jobs, It seems to me that all our police have to do is keep a look-out for blondes waiting in cars, Then, one night, Cuthbert the Cosh returns to his car, dumps the goods in the back, sinks into his seat, and says to his blonde-in-waiting, "Drive on, love."
The next second he finds himself handcuffed "But who are you?" he gasps to the blonde "Oh," says the "blonde," casually removing his wig, "Tm Maltravers of the Yard."
"But where's Elsie?"
"Ask no questions, and you'll be told no lies."
Maltravers speaks very calmy, but you can see how excited he really is at having bagged Cuthbert by the way in which—before he drives off—he pockets his pipe and lights his revolver,
Text read from the printed page and cleaned; old type leaves the occasional error.