“Must be a bomb, all right,” said Smuff. “They run by clockwork.”

“Might go off any minute,” observed the chief. “I hate to go near it. Smuff, you go and pour a pail of water over it.”

“Me?”

“Yes, you. You’re not afraid, are you?”

“No⁠—I’m not afraid,” muttered Smuff, mopping his brow. “But I got to think of my wife and family.”

“Coward!” said the chief. “I’d do it myself, only it wouldn’t be right, seein’ I’m your superior officer. Bad for discipline.”

The worthy officers stared at the package on the fruit stand counter, while Rocco danced with impatience. Neither Collig nor Smuff dared approach closer, but they realized something must be done.

“Where’s Riley?” asked the chief at last.