e pawns in two separate ranks to
represent bodies of infantry, with the knights and bishops for
officers. The coloured pieces he placed in an irregular mass.

"Now," he continued, "this represents the disposition of our force
pretty well, and I've good reason for remembering it. I was here, at
the top of the ravine"--he laid a cigar on the table to indicate the
spot--"Bertram on the ridge yonder. This bunch of red pawns stands for
the Ghazee rush."

"It agrees with what I've heard," said Challoner, surveying the roughly
marked scene of battle with critical eyes. "You were weak in numbers,
but your position was strong. It could have been held."

"We'll take Mrs. Chudleigh's suggestion first." Blake began to move
the pieces. "The Ghazees rolled straight over our first line; my mine,
which might have checked them, wouldn't go off; a broken circuit in the
firing wires, I suppose. We were hustled out of the trenches; it was
too dark for effective rifle fire."

"The trench the second detachment held should have been difficult to
rush."

"Oh! well," said Blake, "you must remember that the beggars were
Ghazees; they're hard to stop. Then our men were worn out and had been
sniped every night for the last week or two. However, the bugler's the
key to my explanation; I'll put this dab of cigar ash here to represent
him. This bishop's Bertram, and you can judge by the distance whether
the fellow could have heard the order to blow, 'Cease fire,' through
the row that was going on."

He resumed his quick moving of the chessmen, accompanying it by a
running commentary. "Here's another weak point in the woman's tale,
which must be obvious to any one who has handled troops; these fellows
couldn't have gained a footing in this hollow because it was raked by
our fire. There was no cover and the range was short. Then you see
the folly of believing that the section with which the bugler was could
have moved along the ridge; they couldn't have crossed between the
Ghazees and the trench. They'd have been exposed to our own fire in
the rear."

He added more to much the same effect, and concluded: "I think that
disposes of Mrs. Chudleigh's theory."

Challoner made a sign of agreement without speaking, and Blake,
lighting a fresh cigar, leaned back in his chair. He believed he had
succeeded so far, but he was feeling the strain.

"Now I'll deal with Clarke's suggestion; it's certainly ingenious," he
said presently and