y when..."

Standish nodded. "Thanks--whoa! Yes, I got a couple of 'cushy' wounds
and three months' leave."

The other turned, helping himself to soda-water. "Lor', yes, and you got
spliced, too, Bunje!" He contemplated the Benedict over the rim of his
tumbler with the whimsical faint curiosity with which the bachelor Naval
Officer regards one of his brethren who has passed beyond the Veil.

"Yes." For a moment Standish assumed a thoughtful expression. Then he
looked up, smiling. "What about you, Podgie? Isn't it about time you
toed the line?"

The King's Messenger shook his head. "No. It doesn't come my way." His
eyes rested contemplatively on his outstretched leg. "Not very likely to
either.... How d'you like the idea of joining up with the 'Great Silent'
again after the flesh-pots and whatnot?"

For the second time he had changed the conversation almost abruptly.

Standish lit his pipe. "What's it like up there now?" He jerked his
head in the direction in which they were travelling. "How are they
sticking it? Have you been up lately? I haven't been in the Grand Fleet
yet."

"Yes, I was up--let's see, last week. Oh, they're all right. A bit
bored, of course, but full of ginger. They go out and try to coax Fritz
to come out and play from time to time. Fritz says 'Not in these
trousers, I don't think,' and then they go home again, dodging 'tin
fish'[1] and raking up Fritz's 'warts'[2] out of the Swept Channels.
Talking of 'warts' reminds me of a yarn going round last time I was
up--it's a chestnut now, but you may not have heard it. One of the
mine-layers nipped down in a fog and laid a mine-field off the mouth of
the Ems. It was a tricky bit of work, and it seems to have touched up
the Padre's nerves a bit, because on the way back next morning, when he
was reading prayers--you know the bit about 'encompassed the waters with
bounds'?--he said, 'Encompassed the bounders with warts,' which was just
what they had done, pretty effectively!"

The door to the corridor was half-open, and a tall figure in Naval
uniform who was passing at that moment glanced in, hesitated, and filled
the doorway with his bulk. A slow smile spread over his face and showed
his white, even teeth. It was a very infectious grin.

"How goes it, Podgie?" he said quietly.

The King's Messenger looked up. "Hallo!" he retorted. Then came
recognition. "Thorogood, surely! Come in, old lad. What are you doing
aboard