THERE was a father I heard about who was so fed up of his family's cycles being stolen he planned retribution.

He propped his new model against a railing in the centre of York, sat on a bench within view of it and waited.

Sure enough, within an hour, along came a character who thought he had solved his personal transportation problem.

The story goes that the would-be thief may still have the physical reminders of the man's frustration.

Inflicting summary justice in this way could have proved more expensive for the father than the loss of Raleigh racers from his shed.

But who doesn't share his anger?

I'm still seething over the theft of two bikes from our backyard. They were ridden away in the last two months and an attempt was made to take their replacement only last week.

Fortunately, it was rescued by a neighbour who disturbed the two young culprits as they were sawing through the bike lock. They ran off, but it could have been an ugly confrontation, raising questions about the best way to confront lawbreakers.

It is easy to imagine ourselves trussing them up with the clothes line until the cavalry arrive, but life isn't like that.

A more realistic scenario would be what happened to a friend who got home once to find a stranger departing his shed with expensive garden equipment.

He was paralysed by the encounter, enabling the intruder to, in that phrase much-loved by the constabulary, "make good his escape".

Even those brave enough to resist can be taken to task by our criminal justice system. An attempt to forcibly protect yourself or your property - however reasonable - could put you in the dock rather than the culprit.

I dread the occasion when my wife awakens me with the words: "I can hear a noise downstairs, will you go and check?"

I have an assortment of weaponry at my disposal: a tennis racket, tent peg and an Incredible Hulk toy fist - but would I have the nerve to use them?

A church youth worker I know still has nightmares about the burglar who struck while he was asleep at home.

Not only was the lounge stripped of every appliance and ornament worth anything, but the intruder left an extraordinary memento of the unwanted visit.

The victim awoke to find his Bible strategically left on a table in the middle of the empty room, open at St Matthew's gospel.

Chapter 6, Verse 19, was highlighted in marker pen. The text says: "Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy, and where thieves break in and steal."

The churchman was told by police that professional burglars often used these disturbing calling cards as badges of honour. His case was one of the most imaginative examples the investigating officer had encountered.

But thieves don't always prosper.

When I was ten someone rode off with my black Road Raider from outside a newsagent.

I felt my world had ended because that bike and me went everywhere together.

After two weeks I spotted it leaning against a shop window.

Its new owner was a rabid-looking paperboy who looked as if he would rather tear my head off than return the bike.

What should I do?

In the end I pleaded with my best pal to help. Bigger than Hercules, braver than a lion and more loyal than any sheep dog, let's just say he recovered my cycle.

Sadly, I've now lost touch with the big guy so will have to find another remedy to the bike rustlers plaguing our back yard.

Maybe I should use the Bible passage trick and hang one from my handlebars.

This verse from Ephesians may make them think: "If you are a thief, stop stealing. Begin using your hands for honest work."

Failing that I could always get an Alsatian... or call the police.

Updated: 11:34 Friday, September 30, 2005