s."

"Then we'll only want one other man, sir, and I'll warn Tiddler. He can
smell Germans in the dark."

"That doesn't take much doing," smiled Dennis. "They're a filthy crowd,
anyhow. Ten o'clock sharp! And ask Smithers if that kettle's boiling."

Harry Hawke had scarcely removed his drab figure from the doorway when
Captain Dashwood blotted out the light and dived in upon them with a
dexterity born of much practice.

His greeting with the Australian cousin was warm enough, but they both
saw something unusual in his face as Dan squeezed up on the cot and made
room for him.

"Read this, Dennis," he said. "The mater's just sent it over," and he
tossed Ottilie's farewell letter across the dug-out.

"The pigs!" cried Dennis hotly. "I can't say it doesn't surprise me,
because it does; but, you know, I never tumbled either to the man or to
his sister. What does the governor say?"

"He's very sick," replied Bob. "Especially as he gave the whole show
away in his letter. Luckily the mater took it from the postman herself,
and she doesn't think they can possibly have seen it. But there it
is--one never knows. It is the beastly ingratitude that gets over me.
The mater rigged that girl out from top to toe, and paid her jolly well,
too, and Van Drissel had the run of the house, and then went away with
three boxes of the brigadier's cigars into the bargain. A German isn't a
human being when you come to look at it--he's just a mean beast, a bully
when he's top dog, and a grovelling worm when he's cornered. Does your
crush take many prisoners, Dan?"

Dan Dunn smiled, and his faultless teeth gleamed in the coffee-brown of
his face.

"Am I compelled to answer that question, your worship?" he said, with an
odd twinkle in his grey eyes, but he had already answered it to their
complete satisfaction. "Do you?" he said.

"A few Saxons now and again, when they put up their hands," replied
Captain Bob. "They're sick to death of the whole business, but Prussians
or Bavarians, no. We've 'had some,' and we're not looking for more
trouble."

Smithers made his appearance from the adjoining dug-out, which was their
kitchen, and when Bob had fixed up the folding table and Dennis had
dragged a Tate sugar box, which acted as cupboard, into the centre of
the floor, they drank hot tea, which was good, and ate sardines and
bread and butter, and finished up with jam, which Dan Dunn passed with
an apologetic grin.

"No, thanks; we had enoug