Busy little Miss Wilby was worried.
There was no telling what might be going on, these summer nights, down by the Deben and under the scented hedgerows of Woodbridge. She spoke with Mrs. Juby, the Methodist minister's wife. They decided to organize the Voluntary Vigilantes. Last weekend, just at dark, a dozen earnest matrons equipped with brand-new hats and armbands patrolled in pairs. From time to time their torches (flashlights) stabbed the soft gloom of Suffolk's night. But they found nothing. Undaunted and unconvinced, they decided to make their rounds a little later next...
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