Front matter (continued 3)

“ ‘If someone would open it, I’ll get along to the telegraph office,’ I remarked.

“ ‘I wouldn’t dream of your going to so much trouble,’ he said suavely. ‘I’ve a lazy boy I employ in the garden; he’ll take it.’

“For a moment I hesitated, and a glint came into his eyes, which warned me to be careful.

“It was then that I had my brainstorm. If I hadn’t had it I shouldn’t be here now; if the powers that be in the newspaper world were not the quickest people on the uptake you can meet in a day’s march, I shouldn’t be here now either. But like a flash of light there came to my mind the story I had once been told of how a war correspondent in the South African War, at a time when they were tightening the censorship, got back full news of a battle by alluding to the rise and fall of certain stock. And the editor in England read between the lines—substituted troops for stocks, Canadians for C.P.R., and so on—and published the only account of the battle.

“Could I do the same? I hesitated.

“ ‘Oh! there’s one thing I’ve forgotten,’ I remarked. ‘I’ll just add it if the boy can wait.’

“So I sat down at the table, and to my report I added the following sentences:

“ ‘There was also some excellent mustard and cress. Will come at once, but fear to-morrow morning may be too late for me to be of further use over Ronaldshay affair.’

“And then I handed it to the grey-haired man through the window.”

The Writer leant back in his chair, and the Soldier stared at him, puzzled.

“It’s a bit too cryptic for me,” he confessed.

“Thank God! it wasn’t too cryptic for the office,” said the Writer. “There was no Ronaldshay affair, so I knew that would draw their attention. And perhaps you’ve forgotten the name of our star reporter, who dealt in criminal matters. It was Cresswill. And if you write the word cress with a capital C and leave out the full stop after it, you’ll see the message I got through to the office.”

“It’s uncommon lucky for you his name wasn’t Snooks,” remarked the Actor with a grin. “What happened?”

“Well, we had dinner, and I can only suppose that my attempts to appear at ease had failed to convince my companions.

“The last thing I remember that night was drinking a cup of coffee—the old trick—and suddenly realising it was drugged. I staggered to my feet, while they remained sitting round the table watching me. Then, with a final glimpse of the grey-haired man’s face, I passed into oblivion.

“When I came to I was in a strange room, feeling infernally sick. And I shall never forget my wild relief when the man by the window turned round and I saw it was Cresswill himself. He came over to the bed and smiled down at me.

“ ‘Well done, youngster,’ he said, and a glow of pride temporarily replaced my desire for a basin. ‘Well done, indeed. We’ve got the whole gang, and we’ve been looking for ’em for months. They were bank-note forgers on a big scale, but we were only just in time to save you.’

“ ‘How was that?’ I asked weakly.

“ ‘I think they had decided that your sphere of usefulness was over,’ he remarked with a grin. ‘So after having removed suspicion by telegraphing your report, they gave you a very good dinner, when, as has been known to happen with young men before, you got very drunk.’

“ ‘I was drugged,’ I said indignantly.

“ ‘The point is immaterial,’ he answered quietly. ‘Drunk or drugged, it’s much the same after you’ve been run over by a train. And we found two of them carrying you along a lane towards the line at half-past eleven. The down goods to Hastings passes at twenty to twelve.’

“And at that moment Providence was kind. I ceased to feel sick. I was.”

VIIThe Old Dining-Room