d the
special runner. "Now, my man, tell me--what is all this tommy rot
about?"

"Bloke farther up the trenches, sir, wot don't seem quite right in the
'ead." Somewhat confused at the sudden appearance of the powers that
be, the perspiring harbinger of bons mots relapsed into an
uncomfortable and depressing silence.

"Not right in the head," barked the General. "God bless my soul! It
must be the heat. Dreadful. What shall we do, Curtis?" He appealed
for support to his Staff officer.

"I think, sir, the Doctor might precede us," answered the other
resourcefully, "and see if the man is dangerous. If so, no doubt he
will arrange for his removal before he does any harm."

The A.D.M.S., or Assistant Director of Medical Services--the official
title of the principal bolus booster in a Division--emerged with a
sickly smile from behind a corner, and advanced unwillingly to the head
of the procession.

"Excellent idea," remarked the General affably. "You can prescribe for
him when you see the symptoms, old boy. Probably a most interesting
case--provided he doesn't stab you on sight."

"Sit on his head, Doc., if he comes for you," remarked the Staff
officer, gracefully handing over the position of leader, "and, above
all, dear old thing, don't let him bite you. Give him a Number Nine to
chew, and we'll bind him when he becomes unconscious."

"It's all jolly fine for you to laugh," said the Doctor peevishly.
"I'm fat and you're thin, and you can hide behind me."

They reached the bay of the trench next to Bendigo, just as a further
great utterance was starting on its way. In the excitement of the
moment, caused by the General's sudden appearance, much of this gem was
lost.

What was heard, however, did not diminish the Doctor's alarm.

"Howls in the leafy verdure," he remarked anxiously. "Good Heavens,
General, he must be up the tree stump!"

"That's all right, sir!" remarked a sergeant reassuringly. "'E's quite
'armless. It's his spirit mind, 'e says. He thinks the tree is full
of leaves."

"Yes--but who is howling in it," asked the General irritably. "I don't
hear a sound."

"It's his spirit mind again, sir," answered the sergeant respectfully.
"There ain't no one 'owling really; 'e means howls wot 'oot."

The procession paused awhile to digest this momentous fact, and the
Staff officer seized the opportunity to again comfort the Doctor.

"Get him at once, old sport, before he becomes homicida