me. "There are your M.P.," I said to the Corporal, as we
trooped slowly out of the dining-car. "I'm afraid I'll have to ask you
to come along with me and interview one of them." Giving him no time
to argue, I led him straight to the Police Sergeant and insisted
upon this case being dealt with before all others. "I must ask you,
Sergeant, to make this man produce his papers. I have reason to doubt
whether he is in order."

The Corporal began to expostulate, but the Sergeant adopted the
none-of-that-I-know-all-about-your-sort attitude which is so
admirable in these officials. The Corporal produced some papers and
tendered them indignantly. The Police Sergeant remained impassively
unconvinced, but gave me one fleeting look, as if he wondered whether
I had put him on to a good thing. "There are papers and papers," said
I, as if I too knew all about the business. "Let us see if they are in
order." The Sergeant's instinct had already told him that the papers
were quite in order, and he was all for cutting the business short and
getting out of it as quickly as he could. But I insisted upon the most
minute examination and would not give in and admit my mistake until
the Sergeant practically ordered us both off the station.

Having given the Sergeant to understand that he was to blame for
the Corporal's papers being in order, I allowed myself to be passed
on. The Corporal followed me; he wanted an explanation. When we got
outside the station I let him catch me up, because I thought he was
entitled to one.

"Will you allow me to ask why you did that, Sir?" he said very
indignantly but not rudely. "You knew that I had my papers, Sir, and
that they were in order."

"Yes," I said. "But I knew that my own weren't."

His cheeks suffused with the most jovial red I have ever seen.

"In the very strictest confidence, Corporal," I said, "_I_ haven't any
papers."

I didn't know that a human laugh could be so loud. On the whole I
think it was a good thing that we had arrived in Paris after closing
time, since otherwise, in spite of my dislike of the stuff, I'm sure
that three more bottles of the most expensive brand would have been
cracked. I should have had to stand one; he would have positively
insisted on standing two.

Yours ever,

HENRY.

* * * * *

[Illustration: _Skipper of Drifter (who has been fined thirty-five
shillings for losing a pair of binoculars)._ "PROPER JUSTICE I CALLS
IT; M