ama that's true to life ain't bound to be absolutely true as to
facts. The trimmings is extra. We opens next with a little slow music an'
_Jim Blaney_ meeting _Reginald_ an' telling 'im 'e 's reformed an' given up
gambling. Instead 'e's running a very respectable football sweep, the prize
to be given to the one as draws the team that scores most goals, an' 'e
offers _Reginald_ a commission an' a seat on the drawing committee if he'll
recommend it amongst 'is clients. Such is 'is plausibleness that 'e even
sells _Suzanne_ a ticket, though she's not rightly sure if Aston Villa is a
race-horse or a lottery number. _Reginald_, however, suspects treachery.

"'Take your breath reg'ler,' 'e says, or makes movements to that effect.
'The matches for this sweep is played on Saturday, an' I seems to recollect
that you an' a lot of the crowd is due for demob on Wednesday, an' I'm
going for leave on Tuesday. What guarantee 'ave we that you weigh out
before you go?'

"'I pays out _immediatemong_ on receipt of the Sunday papers, which will be
Sunday night," says _Blaney_. 'That's good enough, ain't it?'

"_Reginald_ therefore invests an' participates in the drawing, though still
a bit doubtful. 'Is fears is justified, for on Friday night, 'aving got all
the money, _Blaney_ steps outside the _estaminay_ an' hits a Military
Police over the ear."

"Whatever for?" asked Chris. "The War's over."

"That's a mystery; but the mystery is solved when they 'ear that _Blaney_
'as gone to clink to do ten days F.P. No. 2.

"''E's just gauged it to a nicety,' says someone; ''e won't come out till
we're demobbed, an' 'e'll be orf before _Reginald_ gets back from leave.'

"It's 'ere the finest scene in the fillum ought to 'appen. Imagine a crowd
of defrauded an' infuriated soldiery, led by _Reginald_, marching up to the
F.P. compound and demanding that the miserable _Blaney_ an' their stakes
should be 'anded over to them.

"'Never!' says the Provost-Sergeant, twirling his moustaches to needle
points.

"'As a sportsman I appeal to you,' says _Reginald_, 'or we'll wreck the
blinkin' compound.'

[Illustration: _Mabel_ (_to dentist_). "BE CAREFUL, WON'T YOU? I'M DREFFLY
TICKLISH."]

"'I'll not give him up while I have breath in my body,' says the
Provost-Sergeant. 'I've drawn Chelsea in the sweep.'

"Then should ensue the gloriousest shemozzle that ever was; but this scene
is spoiled by some miserable perisher who says it ain't worth while ma