and once more turned his attention to that excellent
French illustrated weekly without which no officers' mess in France is
complete. Lest I be run in for libel, I will refrain from further
information as to its title and general effect on officers concerned.

For a few moments Staunton sat watching the group and listening with
some amusement to the criticisms on those lovely members of the fair
sex so ably portrayed in its pages, and then his attention centred on
the revolver he was cleaning. Jesson, a good-looking, clean-cut man of
about twenty-nine or thirty was holding forth on an experience he had
had in Alaska, which concerned a woman, a team of dogs, and a gentleman
known as One-eyed Pete, and as he spoke Staunton watched him idly. It
struck him that he seemed a promising type, and that it was a pity the
Tunnellers were getting him.

"Haven't you got enough disturbers of the peace already," he remarked
to the Tunnelling officer, "without snatching our ewe lamb?"

"We are at full strength as a matter of fact, Major," answered an
officer covered with chalk; "but they do some funny things in the
palaces of the great. We often get odd birds blowing in. I've been
initiating him all this morning into the joys of Outpost."

"And how is jolly old Blighty?" remarked the Adjutant. "Thank Heaven!
leave approaches."

"About the same." Jesson helped himself to a whisky-and-soda. "Darker
than ever, and taxis an impossibility. Still I dare say I shall be
glad enough to go back when my first leave comes due," he added with a
laugh.

"Is this your first time out?" asked Staunton.

"Yes." Jesson unbuttoned his burberry and took out his cigarette case.
Outside the dusk was falling, and he bent forward to get a light from
the candle flickering on the table in front of him. "The very first
time. I've been on Government work up to now."

It was at that moment that a very close observer might have noticed
that Dick Staunton's pipe ceased to draw with monotonous regularity: he
might even have heard a quick intake of breath. But he would have had
to be a very close one--very close indeed; for the next instant he was
again speaking and his voice was normal.

"I suppose you've been at the depot," he hazarded. "Who are there now?"

"Oh, the usual old crowd," answered Jesson "I don't expect you know
many of them though, do you, Major? Ginger Stretton in the 14th
Battalion--do you know him by any chance?"

"No, I