the gong where the fellah is who lets down the door. He lets
down the door, and we bag the Hun. Dam good idea!"

"I don't believe in no gongs," remarked the musical one scornfully.
"No--nor trip-wires neither." He eyed his audience pugnaciously.

"But, my good fellah--er--what do you believe in?" Percy's spirits
were sinking.

"Tins, china, cups and saucers, plates, old saucepans--anything and
everything wot will make a noise when the 'Un falls on it. That's the
ticket, sir," he continued, with gathering emphasis as he noted the
impression he was causing. "Lumme--a trip-wire: it might break, or the
gong mightn't ring, or the blighter mightn't 'ear it. Wiv china--every
step he took 'e'd smash anuvver pot. Drahn a rum jar 'e would. But--a
trip-wire!" He spat impartially and resumed his tune.

"By Jove, that's a splendid idea!" The mercurial Percy's face shone
again. "Splendid idea! Fill it full of old tins and china--what? And
when we hear the second fellah hit the floor and start breakin' up the
home we can pull the string and let down the trap-door. Splendid idea!
Doocid clever of you, 'pon my soul it is!"

"And where do you think of getting the china from?" Tomkins, fearing
that his mantle of doocid cleverness was descending upon the
tooth-sucker, eyed him unconvinced. "I wasn't aware as 'ow there was a
penny bazaar in the neighbourhood, nor yet a William Whiteley's."

"Yes, by Jove," chirped Percy, "where do we get it all from? We shall
want lots of it, too, don't you know--what?"

"Get it?" The suggester of the idea looked scornful and addressed
himself to Tomkins. "There ain't no bully tins in the perishing
trenches, are there? Ho no! An' there hain't no china an' bits of
glass and old cups and things in that there village about 'alf a mile
down the road? Ho no! I reckon there's enough to fill twenty 'oles
like that there." Once again the oracle resumed his hobby.

"Splendid!" Percy jumped to his feet. "The very thing! We'll do it
this next company relief, by Jove! Now, boys, two more hours. We just
want to get the bedstead out and straighten things up, and we'll be all
ready for the dinner-service--what?"

Now there was another thing in which Percy FitzPercy showed that he had
the makings of a true artist. He fully appreciated the value of
secrecy in presenting his performances to the public at large. True,
all his platoon were bound to find out, and the remainder of the
co