BUTTON 
 
 WADARLINGTON
 
 ALF'S 
 BUTTON 
 
 BY 
 
 W. A. DARLINGTON 
 
 NEW YORK 
 
 FREDERICK A. STOKES COMPANY 
 
 PUBLISHERS
 
 First published in America by 
 
 FREDERICK A. STOKES COMPAHT 
 
 in 1920
 
 FOREWORD 
 
 IT is a curious fact that since the death of the late 
 lamented Aladdin, nothing seems to have been heard 
 of his wonderful Lamp. Mr. Arthur Collins and 
 other students of ancient lore have been able, after 
 patient research, to reconstruct for us the man Alad- 
 din in his habit as he lived and to place before crur 
 eyes a faithful picture of his times. Alike in litera- 
 ture and on the stage the Lamp plays an all-import- 
 ant part; and this makes it all the more strange that 
 its subsequent history should have been so entirely 
 lost. 
 
 I myself incline to the theory that Aladdin allowed 
 the secret of his talisman to die with him, and that 
 his widow disposed of an object whose presence in 
 her husband's collection of articles of " bigotry and 
 virtue " she had always resented, for what it would 
 fetch. Its tradition once broken, we cannot sup- 
 pose that an old battered lamp bearing on one por- 
 tion of its surface a half-effaced inscription in for- 
 gotten characters would attract much attention as an 
 objet d'art. In fact, it would be without value or 
 interest except to a scholar learned enough to inter- 
 pret the inscription aforesaid which may be ren- 
 dered in our tongue " Rub Lightly." 
 
 2040828
 
 FOREWORD 
 
 All this, however, is mere conjecture. It is based 
 on my knowledge, accidentally gained, that a lamp 
 of this description formed part of a job lot of 
 " assorted curios " acquired by the Government with 
 a view to subsequent reissue in the form of buttons 
 for soldiers' tunics. This fact, taken in conjunction 
 with the unusual events I am about to relate, does 
 lend a certain color to the theory which I support; 
 but of solid proof I can of course offer nothing. 
 
 Some of Alf Higgins' adventures have previously 
 appeared in The Passing Show. The Editor of 
 that paper, by the interest he showed in Alf, has 
 incurred the grave responsibility of encouraging me 
 to write this book about him.
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER PAGE 
 
 FOREWORD ill 
 
 I. ALF HIGGINS, RUNNER i 
 
 II. ALF CLEANS His BUTTONS 13 
 
 III. THE MIRACLE OF THE PLANES .... 23 
 
 IV. THE MISGUIDED ZEAL OF EUSTACE ... 36 
 V. EUSTACE FETCHES BEER 49 
 
 VI. ISOBEL'S " DREAM " 62 
 
 VII. EUSTACE ORDERS A BATH 80 
 
 VIII. BLIGHTY FOR Two 97 
 
 IX. LIEUTENANT DONALDSON BECOMES SUSPI- 
 CIOUS 115 
 
 X. EUSTACE BLUNDERS AGAIN 133 
 
 XI. THE VICAR'S WIFE OUTRAGED .... 149 
 
 XII. ALF RECEIVES 167 
 
 XIII. P. C. JOBLING INVESTIGATES 191 
 
 XIV. MR. FARR'S MISGUIDED ZEAL 206 
 
 XV. THE CAPTURE OF MASTER BOBBY . . . 229 
 
 XVI. MRS. GRANT'S DIPLOMACY 246 
 
 XVII. THE FATE OF THE BUTTON 263
 
 ALF'S BUTTON 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 ALF HIGGINS, RUNNER 
 
 44 T TERY well, sergeant-major, I think that's the 
 V lot. As far as we know, we'll take over 
 the front line from the 4th Battalion in two 
 days' time. I want you to warn all the men who 
 aren't coming up with us that they are to go to the 
 Transport lines to-morrow." 
 
 Captain Richards, commanding " C " Company 
 of the 5th Battalion, Middlesex Fusiliers, rose to 
 his feet, snapped shut his company roll-book and 
 stretched himself. Sergeant-Major French, slip- 
 ping a similar though less immaculate roll-book into 
 his breast pocket, also rose to his feet (nearly bump- 
 ing his tin-hatted head against the roof of the dug- 
 out as he did so) and saluted. 
 
 " Very good, sir. Good night." 
 
 " Good night, French. Oh one moment. I'd 
 forgotten. I want one extra runner for Company 
 Headquarters. Can you give me an intelligent 
 man? " 
 
 The C.S.M. considered. 
 
 " There's only 'Iggins, sir," he said, in rather a
 
 2 ALPS BUTTON 
 
 dubious tone. " You know the man, sir in Mr. 
 Allen's platoon." 
 
 Captain Richards laughed. 
 " You can't call him intelligent, can you? " 
 11 No, sir. But nearly every man in the com- 
 pany's fixed with a job, sir. 'Iggins ain't very 
 bright, an' 'e won't do no more than you tell 'im. 
 But 'e won't do no less, neither. 'E's a good sol- 
 dier, and what 'e's told to do, 'e does. I don't think 
 we can spare anybody better, sir." 
 
 " All right. Send him down to see me." 
 Richards was left to his thoughts, though he was 
 not alone. From somewhere in the dim recesses 
 of the dug-out came the sound of deep regular 
 breathing, showing where Lieutenant Donaldson 
 was making the most of an opportunity for rest. 
 The remaining two officers of " C " Company had 
 been out all day reconnoitering the piece of front 
 line in which they were to relieve the 4th Battalion, 
 and had not yet returned. Richards found himself 
 wishing that they would appear. For one thing, he 
 wanted his dinner; and for another, he was just a 
 shade anxious, though he would not for worlds have 
 admitted it. Of course, reconnoitering was always a 
 long job, and there had not been much shelling go- 
 ing on during the day. Besides, Denis Allen 
 senior subaltern of the battalion and next on the list 
 for command of a company was far too old a 
 hand to run into unnecessary danger. On the other 
 hand, little Shaw had only just come out from Eng-
 
 ALF HIGGINS, RUNNER 3 
 
 land; this was his first time in the line, and he was 
 just the type of keen young thing to do something 
 foolish out of ignorance or bravado. 
 
 Richards himself, with Donaldson and the ser- 
 geant-major, had been over the trenches the day 
 before. It is not usual for all the officers of a re- 
 lieving company to see the ground for themselves; 
 but this was a piece of line quite new to the Home 
 Counties' Territorial Division, of which the Mid- 
 dlesex Fusiliers' Brigade formed part. The author- 
 ities therefore had deemed it advisable to use even 
 more care than usual. 
 
 It was bitterly cold. The Great Frost of Jan- 
 uary and February, 1917 the coldest spring that 
 France had known for a period of years variously 
 estimated at twenty-one, a hundred and eight, and 
 intermediately was still in being. Richards 
 turned up the collar of his British warm and longed 
 for soup. He was just considering the advisability 
 of shouting to the servants to serve his dinner at 
 once, when there came a trampling on the stairs, a 
 metallic clang, and some picturesque cursing. A 
 moment later, Denis Allen emerged from the gloom, 
 followed by little Shaw. 
 
 ; ' Thank God for my tin hat," said Denis piously. 
 " That's about the only thing it's good for. I'd 
 have brained myself long ago on these stairs with- 
 out it." 
 
 He divested himself of the article in question, as 
 also of his equipment, glasses and trench coat; these
 
 4 ALPS BUTTON 
 
 he piled upon the recumbent form of Donaldson, 
 bringing that warrior to a sudden and profane wake- 
 fulness. 
 
 " Here," said Allen to Shaw, " we have the com- 
 pany commander sitting at home in luxurious idle- 
 ness, while we poor blighters do his work for him 
 outside in the cold. If you've drunk all the whisky, 
 Dickie, there's going to be a mutiny. I'm simply 
 perishing. Where's the dinner? " 
 
 " Here, sir," said Private Corder, the senior serv- 
 ant, entering with the soup. 
 
 " Bless you, Corder. May your shadow never 
 grow less." 
 
 " No, sir. Please, sir, Private 'Iggins wants to 
 see you, sir." 
 
 "Me?" said Richards. "Oh, yes, of course. 
 Send him down in a minute, but give me time to 
 finish the soup first." 
 
 He warmed his fingers round the steaming mug. 
 
 " Well, Denis," he went on. " How did you like 
 the front trenches ? " 
 
 " Fine. Best lot I've seen. Top-hole duck- 
 boards, good dug-outs, quiet bit of line. Couldn't 
 be better, except for the cold. Shaw here was most 
 impressed, and said he'd like to have shown his 
 mother round them." 
 
 Second-Lieutenant Shaw grinned. 
 
 ' Well, she gets the wind up rather, you see," he 
 explained. " I think she imagines the front line 
 with a perpetual barrage playing on it like a garden
 
 ALF HIGGINS, RUNNER 5 
 
 hose. I must say I didn't expect to see it quite so 
 peaceful myself. Or so clean and tidy." 
 
 " Ah, that's the frost. I tell you, we've been 
 grousing enough lately about being here for the 
 hardest frost within memory, but you've got to re- 
 member that it does keep the water frozen up in the 
 trench walls. Let's pray the frost doesn't break 
 while we're in the line." 
 
 Allen looked suddenly grave. 
 
 " I did notice a trickle of water here and there 
 to-day," he said. " Dickie, I'm afraid we're in for 
 a thaw. We shall be wading up in gum-boots in 
 two days, you'll see. Here comes Higgins." 
 
 A nondescript private, with a straggling mustache 
 and a pair of round, childish blue eyes, came into 
 the light and saluted. 
 
 " Oh, Higgins," said Captain Richards, " you're 
 to join Company Headquarters as a runner. D'you 
 know the job? " 
 
 " Yes, sir. Carryin' messages." 
 
 " Yes. Well, now, I was only told to-day that 
 I'd to have an extra one, otherwise you'd have been 
 sent up with the rest to look round. However, 
 you'd better take my trench map away with you and 
 study the lie of the land from it. You can read a 
 map, I suppose? " 
 
 " No, sir." 
 
 "Not at all?" 
 
 " No, sir." 
 
 11 Good Heavens, I asked for an intell how-
 
 6 ALFS BUTTON 
 
 ever, there's nobody else. That will do, then, Hig- 
 gins. Report to me before we move off, and do your 
 best." 
 
 " Yes, sir." 
 
 Private Alfred Higgins departed, marveling at 
 the strange chance that had elevated him to this 
 responsible post. He was not sure whether he was 
 pleased or otherwise. A runner's is a business ad- 
 mitting of startling variations. In a quiet sector 
 of the line there may be no messages to take, or at 
 least no shells to dodge in the process ; but in a lively 
 part of the front the runner's job is the most con- 
 sistently perilous of all. Besides this, Alf Higgins 
 had always considered it the wisest plan to steer 
 carefully clear of those in authority. As a runner, 
 he would be in constant personal touch with his 
 officer. 
 
 He returned to his mates with mixed feelings, and 
 confided his news to his bosom pal, Bill Grant, who 
 deeply offended him by roaring with laughter at the 
 mere idea. 
 
 As for Sergeant Lees, Lieutenant Allen's second 
 in command of No. 9 Platoon, he seemed to regard 
 Higgins' latest employment as marking the begin- 
 ning of the end. 
 
 " If 'Iggins is a bright, intelligent man for a run- 
 ner," he remarked bitterly, " I may be a blinkin' 
 brigadier yet." 
 
 Lieutenant Allen's gloomy weather predictions 
 duly came to pass. When the battalion moved up
 
 ALF HIGGINS, RUNNER 7 
 
 the thaw had begun in earnest. The water so long 
 imprisoned streamed out of the walls of the trenches, 
 and the disgusted men found themselves committed 
 to wading five miles through communication trenches 
 already a foot deep in water. This water grew 
 visibly deeper as they went forward, till progress 
 became difficult and most exhausting. Richards, 
 plugging along doggedly in front of his company 
 with the guide from the 4th Battalion, looked at his 
 watch when they had covered half the distance and 
 found that they were already an hour overdue. He 
 hated being late with a relief, but greater speed was 
 impossible. As the flow of water increased, the 
 sides of the trenches began to fall in ; the earth thus 
 mixed with the water thickened it to a consistency 
 which might be likened to very rich soup, and the 
 pace grew slower still. 
 
 Now and then a dark cavern would yawn sud- 
 denly beside them, and a ghostly glimmer in the 
 bowels of the earth would show an inhabited dug- 
 out; and as the relieving party squelched slowly past, 
 the water in the trench would be forced above the 
 level of the dug-out entrance, and would flow thun- 
 dering down the staircase like a miniature Niagara. 
 Terrible objurgations from beneath would express 
 the inmost thoughts of some weary warrior rudely 
 awakened from sleep by the impact of a cold wave 
 of muddy water against the back of his neck. Sym- 
 pathetic, but powerless to avoid continuous repeti- 
 tion of the offense, the company plodded on.
 
 6 ALPS BUTTON 
 
 At last, four hours behind the time fixed, a husky 
 voice out of the darkness informed Richards that he 
 had reached his destination. 
 
 Some time elapsed before everything had been 
 satisfactorily handed over and explained to the in- 
 coming company, but at last the 4th men splashed 
 thankfully off to cause another series of Niagaras 
 to descend upon the indignant warrior aforesaid 
 leaving Captain Richards entirely responsible for 
 several hundred yards of the British front. 
 
 It was at this point, when the Company Head- 
 quarters went off to their comparatively dry dug- 
 out, leaving the rest of the company to their miser- 
 able vigil on the surface, that Private Higgins 
 realized that the runner's lot can be a very happy 
 one. 
 
 This opinion grew more and more pronounced as 
 time went on. Officers relieved each other in the 
 front line, coming off duty covered with wet clay 
 nearly to the waist and scraping their breeches clean 
 with their knives before lying down to snatch a little 
 rest ; while he Higgins lay warm and dry, with 
 nothing to do but eat and sleep. 
 
 All was quiet up above; both armies were far too 
 much occupied with their own discomforts to think 
 about adding to those of their adversaries. Pos- 
 sibly, thought Higgins in a flash of foolish optimism, 
 his whole four days might be spent in a dry dug-out, 
 eating and sleeping. But he must have omitted to
 
 ALF HIGGINS, RUNNER 9 
 
 touch wood, for at this point he heard his name 
 called. 
 
 Captain Richards was holding in his hand a paper 
 which the signaler had just handed to him. 
 
 " Higgins," he ordered. " Take this up to Mr. 
 Donaldson in the front line at once, and bring back 
 an answer. It's a report on the condition of the 
 front line dug-outs. Understand?" 
 
 "Yessir!" 
 
 " Are your gum-boots all right? " 
 
 "Yessir!" 
 
 "Right! Carry on!" 
 
 Higgins clambered up the steps to the surface. 
 Before he stepped over the dam which had been 
 constructed round the dug-out entrance, he glanced 
 round. The complicated canal system, which had 
 been the trenches, looked even more forbidding by 
 day than it had the previous night, and the water 
 looked horribly cold. But there was nothing to be 
 gained by waiting, and he waded off up a communica- 
 tion trench. Very soon he found himself in diffi- 
 culties. The trench walls had continued to fall in, 
 with the consequence that in places the thick soup 
 had become glue. Once or twice he felt his foot 
 sticking in the viscous stuff that had collected over 
 the duck-boards, and had to struggle hard before 
 he could release himself. Suddenly, without warn- 
 ing, he struck an even worse patch. Both feet were 
 seized and held as in a vise. He fought hard, but
 
 10 ALPS BUTTON 
 
 only sank deeper. At last, quite exhausted, he felt 
 his feet reach the duck-boards ; and, thankful that at 
 least he could sink no lower, he settled down with 
 stoical resignation to wait till some one should come. 
 
 But an hour went by, and nothing happened ; Hig- 
 gins began to be hungry. Possibly, he thought, this 
 particular trench had been found impassable, and 
 traffic directed through other channels, in which case 
 he might never be found. Appalled by this idea, he 
 lifted up his voice. 
 
 "Hi! "he yelled. "'Elp!" 
 
 For sole answer, a German " fish-tail " whirred 
 overhead and burst with great violence not far 
 away. His own side remained as quiet as the 
 grave. 
 
 Higgins began to lose his head. 
 
 " 'Elp ! 'Elp ! " he bawled, a note of panic in his 
 voice. 
 
 " There now, duckie ! " came in soothing accents 
 from round the corner in front of him. " Mum- 
 mie's comin' ! What the 'ell's the matter? " 
 
 A gum-booted, leather-jerkined private came 
 slowly into view. 
 
 " Why," he exclaimed, " it's old Alf ! Thought 
 you was on G.H.Q. staff, 'elpin' 'Aig, Alf. What's 
 all the row about? " 
 
 " Bringin' a message up to the orficer, an' I got 
 stuck. Been 'ere hours, I 'ave." 
 
 " Stuck in the ' Glue-Pot,' that's what you 'ave, 
 ole son," said Private Bill Grant cheerfully. " You
 
 ALF HIGGINS, RUNNER 11 
 
 must 'ave been a mug to use this way. Every one's 
 usin' number One-Eight-Oh now; it's deeper, but 
 not so sticky. The officer brought that message up 
 'isself when 'e came on dooty. They was sayin' 
 some nice things about you, I don't think. You're 
 in for it, you are, when you gets out o' that." 
 
 Higgins was past caring. 
 
 " 'Ere, Bill, can't you pull me out? " he pleaded. 
 
 " Not if I knows it. That's the Glue-Pot you're 
 in. If I started pullin' you out, I'd get stuck there 
 meself, that's all. You'll 'ave to stop till arter dark, 
 an' we'll come along over the top and 'ave yer out 
 with a rope. So long." 
 
 The unfeeling Bill kissed his not over-clean hand 
 and disappeared round the corner. Silence 
 broken occasionally by the sharp crack of a rifle 
 bullet or the explosion of a casual shell settled 
 down once more. Higgins sank into* a kind of 
 stupor. . . . 
 
 "Hist!" said a slightly dramatic voice above 
 him, and he woke to a consciousness that darkness 
 had fallen, and that the rescue party was at hand. 
 
 "That you, sergeant?" he asked joyfully. 
 
 " Not so loud, you blinkin' fool! " whispered Ser- 
 geant Lees fervently. " It ain't daylight now. 
 The Boche 'as the wind up proper, an' if 'e 'ears 
 you there'll be 'ell on. Catch 'old o' this rope. 
 Now then, lads, ready? 'Eave! " 
 
 Higgins felt the rope tighten. Then came an al-
 
 12 ALFS BUTTON 
 
 most intolerable strain on his body as the six panting 
 figures up above opposed their joint strength to the 
 passive resistance of his firmly-embedded gum-boots. 
 Something had to give somewhere. That something 
 turned out to be Higgins' old pair of braces, which 
 had been forced to undertake the support of the 
 said boots in addition to their usual responsibility. 
 They snapped suddenly. The tug-of-war party col- 
 lapsed in a heap, and Alf shot into the air like a cork 
 from a champagne-bottle (leaving his trousers be- 
 hind him) and fell again into the trench beside his 
 tenantless and immovable boots. 
 
 He owed it to the quick wit of Sergeant Lees that 
 he did not become bogged once more. His legs 
 were already sinking in the ooze of the Glue-Pot 
 when the sergeant leaned over, seized him by the coat 
 collar and dragged him up by main force, just as his 
 jacket split along its whole length with a rending 
 sound. A Boche machine-gunner, much alarmed at 
 the highly unusual sounds proceeding from the Brit- 
 ish lines, began to enquire into the matter. The 
 shell-hole into which Alf rolled for safety happened 
 to be full of filthy water, icy cold.
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 ALF CLEANS HIS BUTTONS 
 
 WHEN the battalion moved out of the line the 
 appearance of Private Higgins could not be 
 described as smart. The only person who at- 
 tempted to describe it at all was the company ser- 
 geant-major; he did it rather well. 
 
 Higgins did not spend the remainder of his tour 
 of duty in the condition of indecorous discomfort in 
 which he was hauled from the Glue-Pot. On crawl- 
 ing out of his shell-hole, he first rescued his trousers 
 with some difficulty from inside his derelict thigh- 
 boots, and then made his way to the dressing-station 
 a large dug-out where he was dried and his 
 torn jacket was roughly repaired. For the rest of 
 his time he wore the felt-lined leather jerkin which 
 he had forgotten to take with him on his former 
 adventure ; but as luck would have it he was not re- 
 quired on any further errand. 
 
 The battalion left its trenches handed over 
 thankfully to the North Surreys about midnight, 
 eight days after it had moved in. Its numbers, in 
 spite of the mildness of Fritz, had been sadly de- 
 pleted. All precautions notwithstanding, a large 
 number of men had succumbed to trench feet, and 
 
 13
 
 i 4 ALFS BUTTON 
 
 the remainder could scarcely do more than crawl. 
 They made their way painfully as far as the reserve 
 trenches, and next day they reached a village some 
 miles behind the line, where they found themselves 
 in quite comfortable billets the men in huts, the 
 officers in farms and cottages. The hut allotted to 
 " C " Company contained a complicated erection in 
 wood and wire-netting, which provided two tiers of 
 bedsteads down almost the entire length of each 
 side. There was, however, a small space at one end, 
 screened off with waterproof sheets; this was ap- 
 propriated to the joint use of the C.S.M. and the 
 C.Q.M.S. 
 
 As soon as the battalion was settled in, the usual 
 business began of repairing the ravages of the 
 trenches and transforming a crew of ragged, bearded 
 scaramouches back into self-respecting members of 
 a smart regiment. 
 
 Captain Richards paraded his company in front 
 of its billet, and surveyed it more in sorrow than in 
 anger. He himself and his officers had managed, in 
 some wonderful way, to turn themselves out as spot- 
 less as if they had just strolled in from Piccadilly. 
 But they had the advantage over the men of carry- 
 ing spare suits of clothes in their valises, and of pos- 
 sessing servants. 
 
 " Well, * C ' Company," remarked its Com- 
 mander. " The quartermaster is going to take you 
 in hand this afternoon, and I don't envy him his job. 
 You'll hand in your tin hats and your jerkins, and
 
 ALF CLEANS HIS BUTTONS 15 
 
 you'll draw service caps, badges and shoulder-titles. 
 Those of you who need new things must take the 
 opportunity of getting them. Private Higgins, for 
 instance, needs a new tunic." 
 
 There was a roar of laughter, for Higgins' mis- 
 adventure in the communication trench was the com- 
 pany's latest family joke. 
 
 " I see," continued Richards, grinning, " that he's 
 mended his old one with a piece of rope. Well, that 
 won't do for me after to-day. To-morrow I expect 
 to see the company something like itself. March 
 'em off, Sergeant-Major French; I'll be coming along 
 shortly." 
 
 Clothing parade was a lengthy business. Most 
 of the battalion seemed to need clothes, and the 
 quartermaster's overworked staff appeared to re- 
 gard each new application as a personal insult. At 
 last Higgins obtained his new tunic, and started back 
 to his billet with this and his other issues. On 
 the way he passed a small cottage marked " Es- 
 taminet " ; he entered and indulged in a miniature 
 orgy of very light French beer. 
 
 It was getting late when he reached the billet, 
 and in order to make the most of the fading light 
 he sat down outside the hut to bring the buttons of 
 his new jacket to a condition fit to be inspected by 
 C.S.M. French on the following morning. 
 
 He made an excellent job of the top button and 
 then, recharging his tooth-brush (presented to him 
 for quite another purpose by a paternal government)
 
 16 ALF'S BUTTON 
 
 with polish, he prepared to tackle the second. But 
 the instant he. touched it there wa-s a sudden roaring 
 sound, and a strange hot wind sprang up, tossing 
 into the air a swirling column of dust which half 
 choked Alf and wholly blinded him. He dropped 
 tooth-brush, polish and tunic to the ground and 
 clapped his hands to his agonized eyes. 
 
 The wind died down again as suddenly as it had 
 come, and the swirling dust settled; and there came 
 to Alf, still struggling to empty his streaming eyes 
 of pieces of grit, an eerie sense that he was not alone. 
 Some presence was beside him something that he 
 must clear his eyes and look at, yet dreaded to see. 
 
 Suddenly a sepulchral voice spoke. 
 
 "What wouldst thou have?" it said. 
 
 Alf felt that he must see, or go mad. With his 
 two hands he opened an inflamed eye and with 
 great difficulty restrained himself from uttering a 
 loud yell of terror. He was confronted by a huge 
 and hideous being of a type he had believed to exist 
 only in the disordered imaginations of story-tellers. 
 The being, seeing that he had Alf's undivided 
 even petrified attention, bowed impressively. 
 
 "What wouldst thou have?" he repeated in a 
 deep, booming voice. " I am ready to obey thee as 
 thy slave, and the slave of any who have that But- 
 ton in their possession; I, and the other slaves of the 
 Button." 
 
 " Gawd ! " exclaimed Alf, in horror. " Strike me 
 pink!"
 
 ALF CLEANS HIS BUTTONS 17 
 
 The strange being looked surprised, but bowed yet 
 lower. 
 
 " To be stricken pink? Verily my Lord's request 
 is strange ! Nevertheless, his wish is my com- 
 mand." 
 
 He disappeared. 
 
 Alf stared open-mouthed at the spot where the 
 apparition had stood. Then in a sudden panic at 
 what he took to be the effect of French beer after 
 the enforced abstemiousness of the trenches, he 
 rushed into the hut and rolled himself up in his 
 blanket. He felt at once aggrieved and frightened; 
 for he was not drunk nor even exhilarated, and yet 
 he had got to the far more advanced stage of " see- 
 ing things." He gave no answer to any enquiries 
 after his health nor any other sign of life until the 
 orderly sergeant came round at reveille next morn- 
 ing. 
 
 " Now then, Tggins, show a leg," said the 
 N.C.O. 
 
 Higgins had been awake for some time. He felt 
 all right, and had already assured himself by a cau- 
 tious glance round that he was no longer seeing de- 
 mons. He sat up, and flung his blankets cheerfully 
 from him. 
 
 " Right-o, sergeant," he said. 
 
 The sergeant's eyes bulged. All that could be 
 seen of Higgins his face, hands and the part of 
 his neck and chest not covered by his shirt was 
 one glorious shade of salmon-pink, shining and
 
 i8 ALPS BUTTON 
 
 glossy as if from the application of a coat of Mr. 
 Aspinall's best enamel. 
 
 " Come out o' that, quick! " said Sergeant Ander- 
 son, retreating hastily. " Corporal Spink, take this 
 man along to the M.O. at once don't wait for 
 sick parade. It's measles and scarlet fever and 
 smallpox and nettlerash all mixed up, you've got, me 
 lad. 'Ere, keep yer distance." 
 
 The regimental M.O., nonplused and frightened, 
 at once got into touch with the Field Ambulance and 
 had Higgins now in the last stage of panic and 
 convinced that his end was near removed to a 
 Casualty Clearing Station. Then he descended on 
 " C " Company's billet with some pungent form of 
 chemical disinfectant, and rendered that erstwhile 
 happy home utterly uninhabitable. The company, 
 spluttering and swearing, tumbled out and ate its 
 breakfast shivering in the open. If threats and 
 curses could kill, Alf would have been a dead man 
 fifty times over. 
 
 On his arrival at the C.C.S. his clothes were taken 
 from him, and he was isolated for observation in a 
 small ward; and a keen young medical prac- 
 titioner named Browne temporary captain in the 
 R.A.M.C. undertook his extraordinary case. 
 
 On finding that he did not immediately die, Alf 
 recovered his normal spirits, and for a week he 
 thoroughly enjoyed himself. He was a public char- 
 acter all the medical officers within reach came
 
 ALF CLEANS HIS BUTTONS 19 
 
 and shook their heads over him. He felt perfectly 
 well; his pulse and temperature were from the first 
 normal; but his hue remained undimmed. An old 
 doctor who chanced to arrive when Higgins was hav- 
 ing his midday meal, got out his notebook and en- 
 tered " Abnormally voracious appetite " as a salient 
 symptom of the new disease; but this was a mistake. 
 In fact, no further symptoms of any kind developed; 
 and in the end Captain Browne, in despair, deter- 
 mined to give up the case and to send Alf to see a 
 noted skin-specialist at the Base. 
 
 Accordingly Higgins' clothes (smelling strongly 
 of some distressing fumigatory) were brought to 
 him, and he was told to get ready for his journey. 
 Observing with displeasure that the effect of fumiga- 
 tion had been to turn his brasswork nearly black, he 
 produced cleaning materials and got to work to 
 remedy this. 
 
 At the first touch he gave to his second button, 
 once more that awful apparition arose before him, 
 and the same sepulchral voice was heard. 
 
 " What wouldst thou have? I am ready to serve 
 thee as thy slave, and the slave of any who have that 
 Button in their possession; I, and the other slaves 
 of the Button." 
 
 Alf's mind was whirling. He had by now half 
 forgotten his previous sight of this supernatural 
 visitor, or rather had accounted for it satisfactorily 
 in his mwd. But no theory of intoxication could
 
 20 ALPS BUTTON 
 
 hold good on this occasion, for Alf's only drink for 
 the past week had been tea. The emotion upper- 
 most in his mind, however, was fear that the doctor 
 might come in and find the being there. He there- 
 fore sat up in bed and gasped out : 
 
 "'Op it!" 
 
 With a puzzled expression on his hideous coun- 
 tenance, the being began slowly and with obvious 
 reluctance to disappear. He seemed to be doubting 
 the evidence of his ears. 
 
 " 'Ere, I say," called out Alf suddenly, as an idea 
 struck him. " Arf a mo' ! " 
 
 The being, who was still just visible as a faint 
 murkiness in the atmosphere, took shape again with 
 alacrity. 
 
 " What wouldst thou have? " he began once more. 
 " I am ready to obey thee as thy slave and the 
 slave. . . ." 
 
 " Yes," interrupted Alf, who was in terror of the 
 possible advent of the doctor. ' You said all that 
 before. What I want to know is, was it you that 
 turned me this ruddy color? " 
 
 " Verily, O Master, the color is not the color of 
 blood; and indeed, with thine own lips thou didst 
 command me to strike thee pink! " 
 
 u Lumme ! " said Alf, light breaking in upon him 
 at last. " Well, if that's your idea of a joke, it ain't 
 mine, that's all. You can just blinkin' well think 
 again, if you want to make me laugh. See? " 
 
 " Thy wish," said the Spirit, to whom Alf's idio-
 
 ALF CLEANS HIS BUTTONS 21 
 
 matic speech was just so much gibberish, " is my 
 command. What wouldst thou have ? I am ready 
 to obey. . . ." 
 
 " Stop it," said Alf in acute apprehension, his eye 
 on the door. " Didn't you 'ear what I said? Put 
 me right, for the Lord's sake, and then 'op it, quick. 
 I can 'ear the doc. comin'." 
 
 Captain Browne entered. He was in a very de- 
 spondent frame of mind. He was a keen and am- 
 bitious young man, and his failure to make any 
 impression on Higgins' condition had been a great 
 blow to his pride. Sorely against his will he was 
 now about to own himself defeated. 
 
 He closed the door behind him. 
 
 There was an instant's pause. Then the officer, 
 without a change of countenance, spoke quietly. 
 
 " Ah ! " he said. " Then my last treatment has 
 had the effect I hoped for. It's a cure. You 
 needn't go to the Base, after all." 
 
 The cure of Higgins' malady brought to Captain 
 Browne much honor and renown. He became the 
 first and sole authority on what came to be known 
 as u Browne's Disease " ; several thoughtful essays 
 from his pen appeared in the foremost medical jour- 
 nals, detailing the course of the disease, the method 
 of its cure, and the mental processes which had led 
 to the evolution of that cure. He was asked to con- 
 tribute an article on the same subject to a medical 
 encyclopaedia. Finally, he was mentioned in dis- 
 patches.
 
 22 ALFS BUTTON 
 
 An order from the distant heights of the surgeon- 
 general's staff was circulated to all medical officers, 
 ordering them to forward weekly a return of the 
 number of men under their care suffering from 
 Browne's Disease. But neither they nor the dis- 
 tinguished inventor himself could find any. This 
 was the more unfortunate because, if only he had 
 been able to find another authentic case of the 
 malady, he might have looked forward to Harley 
 Street and a fashionable practice after the war. 
 But in any case, his name, if not his fortune, was 
 made. 
 
 As for Alf, he returned at once to his battalion, 
 where he gave unsatisfactory answers to all ques- 
 tions. He was a man of little imagination, but it 
 seemed that he was now in his own case beginning 
 to link up cause with effect. At all events he re- 
 frained for as long as possible from cleaning his 
 second tunic-button, and might have been seen now 
 and again regarding it with awe not unmixed with 
 alarm.
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 THE MIRACLE OF THE PLANES 
 
 WHEN Alf reached the 5th Battalion once 
 more, he found it transformed. All signs 
 of trench life had disappeared, and the men were 
 recovering their swing and swagger. True, they 
 looked a little harassed, but that was only natural 
 seeing that they were in the middle of one of the 
 periods of strenuous activity humorously known to 
 those in authority as " rest." 
 
 His mates accepted Alf's reappearance among 
 them without surprise almost without comment. 
 The fact that he had been in hospital suffering from 
 a hitherto unknown disease did not excite them at 
 all. Such men as did mention the matter took it for 
 granted that he had had some new form of " trench 
 fever." (Every malady developed at the front 
 which is not immediately recognizable is disposed 
 of by popular rumor under this convenient heading.) 
 
 This particular " rest " was expected to last still 
 another fortnight when Higgins reported. The first 
 week was to be devoted to a stiff training program, 
 while the second was to embrace an equally energetic 
 period of athletic competitions and games. Within 
 an hour of his arrival the disgusted private found 
 
 23
 
 24 ALFS BUTTON 
 
 himself swooped upon by various enthusiasts and 
 engaged to go into strict training at once, with a 
 view to representing the platoon at football and the 
 company in a cross-country race the following week. 
 Practice games and trial runs were arranged to dove- 
 tail into each other with devilish ingenuity, until Alf 
 began to consider the advisability of rubbing this 
 mysterious button of his and obtaining a relapse. 
 
 He was unimaginative, and the vast possibilities 
 latent in the magic button had not even begun to 
 unfold themselves before his mind. One of his 
 chief characteristics was a reluctance to mix himself 
 up in matters he did not understand. He felt that 
 in meddling twice already with supernatural and 
 probably diabolical powers he had been very lucky 
 to get off scot free; and the mere idea of ever en- 
 countering that fearsome being again filled him with 
 apprehension. He avoided touching the mysterious 
 button at all, either for cleaning or any other pur- 
 pose. 
 
 But this state of things could not last. Lieuten- 
 ant Allen was no martinet, but it was not many days 
 before he stopped before Alf on parade and surveyed 
 him with disfavor. 
 
 " This won't do, Higgins," he said. " Your 
 brasswork is a disgrace. Look at that button! 
 You will clean that up the moment you get off parade 
 this morning, and I'll have a look at it this after- 
 noon. See?" 
 
 " Yessir ! " said Higgins dutifully. But he did
 
 THE MIRACLE OF THE PLANES 25 
 
 not see in the least what was to be done. He could 
 not leave his button untouched after what the officer 
 had said, and he did not dare to clean it. In his 
 efforts to solve this problem, he went through his 
 drill movements with an air of preoccupation which 
 excited Sergeant Lees to the verge of apoplexy. But 
 he had his reward in an idea of for him sur- 
 passing brilliance. 
 
 Army custom decrees that when a soldier in uni- 
 form goes into mourning, he shall proclaim the fact 
 to the world by covering the second button of his 
 tunic with crepe, or some other black material. Ob- 
 viously, then, Higgins' easiest way out of his di- 
 lemma was to kill some non-existent relative. His 
 difficulty thus settled, he began to apply his mind to 
 the business in hand just in time to save the ser- 
 geant's sanity. 
 
 The parade finished, Higgins set out to find 
 C.Q.M.S. Piper. That important personage was 
 conferring deeply with the company commander on 
 some subject connected with the issue of rum, and 
 Higgins had to wait; as bad luck would have it, by 
 the time the conference was ended Sergeant-Major 
 French had come up and was standing within easy 
 earshot. Alf tried to pitch his voice so that the 
 sergeant-major should not overhear him, and only 
 succeeded in defeating his own end by becoming com- 
 pletely inaudible. 
 
 " Quarters," he said, " can you give me a ee oh 
 ackuff?"
 
 26 ALF'S BUTTON 
 
 " Now then, my lad ! " roared Piper, in a voice 
 which commanded the instant attention of every- 
 body in the hut, " don't whisper sweet nothings to 
 me. Spit it out! What d'yer want? Piece o' 
 what?" 
 
 Amid general interest the defeated strategist re- 
 peated his request. 
 
 " Bit of black stuff, Quarters." 
 
 " Bit o' black stuff? What for? " 
 
 " To go into mourning. My uncle's dead." 
 
 " Ho! " intervened C.S.M. French, suddenly wak- 
 ing to the full significance of Higgins' request. 
 " Yer uncle's dead, is 'e? 'Ow d'yer know that? " 
 
 " I 'ad a letter this mornin', major." 
 
 "Ho! Well now, that's funny; because there 
 'asn't been no bloomin' mail in since Friday. An' 
 as for mournin', your bloomin' button's gone into 
 mournin' already, without needin' no black stuff. I 
 never saw nothing like it! Now, look 'ere, 'Iggins, 
 I 'card Mr. Allen tickin' you off about it, this 
 mornin', and it looks to me as if you're tryin' on a 
 bit of a game. Yer uncle may be dead or 'e may 
 not, but before the quartermaster gives yer a bit o' 
 black, you've gotter show me that button so bright 
 that I can see me blinkin' face in it. Now, get a 
 move on ! " 
 
 There was no help for it. The button had to be 
 cleaned, this once at any rate. Afterwards Higgins 
 could mourn his uncle without ceasing, and spirits 
 from the vasty deep need no longer form an essential
 
 THE MIRACLE OF THE PLANES 27 
 
 part of his matutinal preparations for parr. u.-. 
 
 As soon as dinners had been dished out, Higgtiis 
 put on his kit, took his rifle, and slipped away to a 
 quiet spot where a small mound screened him from 
 observation from the camp, though it did not pre- 
 vent him from keeping a look-out. There was still 
 a full hour before parade. He sat down, and after 
 a moment or two spent in summoning his courage he 
 produced his button-stick and began to polish his 
 button. He did not even look up when a sepulchral 
 voice gave evidence that the dreaded Being had ap- 
 peared. 
 
 " What wouldst thou have? I am ready to serve 
 thee as thy slave, and the slave of any that have that 
 Button in their possession; I, and the other slaves 
 of the Button." 
 
 Alf continued polishing for dear life. After a 
 moment's pause the voice spoke again. 
 
 " Great Master," it said. " Behold, thy slave is 
 present." 
 
 But the great Master, perspiring freely with ter- 
 ror, averted his head and polished on. He had some 
 wild hope that the spirit might realize that the sum- 
 mons he had obeyed was involuntary and, so to 
 speak, unofficial, and would go away. The spirit, 
 on the other hand, apparently took his master's be- 
 havior as being simply an exhibition of despotism; 
 this was quite according to Oriental tradition, and 
 greatly impressed him, so that when he spoke a third 
 time his voice was humble and servile to a dj^ree.
 
 a8 ALPS BUTTON 
 
 " O Master, Lord of Power," he said, " since thou 
 dost not deign to acknowledge the presence of thy 
 slave, but dost continue the summons whereby thy 
 slave came hither, is it thy will that the other slaves 
 of the Button, who are seven thousand in number, 
 should be brought before thee? " 
 
 It is doubtful whether Higgins fully comprehended 
 this rather involved sentence; but he understood 
 enough to realize that unless he made up his mind 
 to talk with this being he was threatened with the 
 appearance of seven thousand other devils, quite pos- 
 sibly worse than the first. He dropped his button- 
 stick hastily. " No," he said anxiously; " you'll do." 
 
 He turned and faced his slave and was astonished 
 to find that his fear had passed. The mysterious 
 being was much more terrible in anticipation than in 
 reality; and the servility of his speech and bearing 
 had unmistakably shown that he regarded Alf with 
 respect almost amounting to reverence. Alf, his 
 breast swelling with a new and very pleasant sense 
 of self-importance, decided to take this opportunity 
 of coming to some kind of understanding with his 
 new follower. 
 
 " Look 'ere, chum," he said affably, " you an' 
 me's got to 'ave a little talk. Now T , just tell me, 'ow 
 do I come to be your master? " 
 
 " Lord, I am chief of the slaves of the Button 
 that was aforetime the Lamp. Whosoever may be 
 Lord of the Button, him do I serve and perform all 
 his will; I, and the other slaves of the Button."
 
 THE MIRACLE OF THE PLANES 29 
 
 " Lumme ! " commented Alf, much impressed. 
 " An' where was yer last place? " 
 
 "Master?" said the spirit, uncomprehending. 
 
 " 'Oo didst you thou serve before you come 
 to me? " interpreted the Master. 
 
 " The great prince Aladdin." 
 
 " Don't know 'im. Prince 'oo? " 
 
 " Aladdin." 
 
 "What the pantomime feller? Lor', you 
 must be gettin' on in years! Well, now, did this 
 chap give yer a reference? " 
 
 The spirit looked puzzled, and Alf decided that 
 in Aladdin's time servants could not have had char- 
 acters. He continued his catechism. 
 
 "An' what's yer name, mate?" 
 
 " Abdulkindeelilajeeb was I aforetime, O Master, 
 but now I am called Abdulzirrilajeeb." 
 
 " Gorblimey," said Alf blankly. " You don't ex- 
 pect me to do that when I speaks to yer, I 'ope 1 " 
 Then after a pause he added, " I shall call yer 
 Eustace." 
 
 The djinn looked pleased. 
 
 " In truth, O possessor of wisdom, it is a lordly 
 name." 
 
 'Tis well," replied the possessor of wisdom with 
 a melodramatic wave of the hand. " Now, tell me. 
 Yer always poppin' up an' askin' for orders what 
 is it you want to do ? What's yer partickler line ? " 
 
 " My Lord hath but to command," said the newly- 
 christened Eustace with superb simplicity.
 
 30 ALPS BUTTON 
 
 " Garn, what a whopper ! " Alf snorted incred- 
 ulously. He had an ingrained dislike of " swank " 
 in any form; and he looked about him at once, seek- 
 ing some impossible task with which he might upset 
 this complacent creature's vanity. 
 
 His imagination failed utterly to respond to the 
 sudden strain placed upon it. His eye wandered 
 round the unedifying landscape and found no source 
 of inspiration. In despair he glanced up at the 
 skies, and there he found the idea he sought. 
 
 High in the air above the British lines so high 
 that they were only just visible were two aero- 
 planes. That they were Boche and Briton, en- 
 gaged in a duel, was plain; but which was which it 
 was impossible to make out. No doubt an expert 
 would have known at once by a dozen signs; but 
 Alf's data for distinguishing friend from foe in the 
 air began and ended with the official markings 
 the tricolor rings of the Allies or the German black 
 cross painted on the wings of the machines. When 
 these signs were not visible he worked, as did most 
 of his mates, on the rough principle that if an aero- 
 plane dropped bombs on you it was certainly 
 a Boche, while if it refrained it was probably 
 British. 
 
 He directed the djinn's attention aloft. 
 
 " Now then," he said in triumphant tones. " See 
 them two airyplanes up there? Well, if yer so 
 bloomin' clever, 'op up and bring down the Boche 
 one to me 'ere."
 
 THE MIRACLE OF THE PLANES 31 
 
 Eustace disappeared immediately, and Alf, incred- 
 ulous though he was that anything out of the or- 
 dinary was going to happen, gazed up at the two 
 tiny machines, still diving and circling in their at- 
 tempts to out-maneuver one another. 
 
 The duel was, however, nearing an end. As Alf 
 gazed, one of the two suddenly turned tail and fled. 
 The other gave chase, and seemed on the very point 
 of victory, when suddenly the pursuing plane seemed 
 to check in mid-air and began to descend. 
 
 Even to Alf's untutored eye there was something 
 uncanny in that descent. The machine neither nose- 
 dived nor came down in the usual graceful spirals. 
 Instead it sank slowly and very steadily straight 
 downwards, in defiance of all known laws of aero- 
 nautics, directly towards the spot where Alf was 
 standing. 
 
 Alf, petrified with astonishment, stood staring at 
 the machine as it grew larger and more distinct. It 
 was all true, then! The djinn had, it seemed, all 
 the powers that he claimed. In a few moments 
 Private Higgins would be in sole possession of a 
 complete German aeroplane. For the first time in 
 his career, militaj-y glory was in his grasp. He had 
 had no thought, when he had given his command to 
 Eustace, of anything but the difficulty of the task; 
 but now he had a sudden joyous vision of the kudos 
 he would gain when he should march the crew of his 
 approaching captive into the company lines at the 
 point of his bayonet.
 
 32 ALFS BUTTON 
 
 He unslung his rifle, loaded it and fixed the 
 bayonet. Then, assuming the " On Guard " posi- 
 tion, he looked up once more at the machine, now 
 only a few hundred feet above him; and he gave a 
 gasp of horror. 
 
 On the underside of the wings, now plain to the 
 view, were painted the familiar rings of red, white 
 and blue. Eustace, even less skilled than his mas- 
 ter, had brought down the wrong machine. Instead 
 of saving a British airman from destruction Alf had 
 only deprived him of a well-earned victory at the 
 moment of triumph. The German, rejoicing at his 
 incredible escape and marveling, no doubt, at his op- 
 ponent's inexplicable collapse, was now out of sight 
 and in safety above his own lines; while the Briton 
 was just dropping ignominiously to earth, helpless 
 in the grip of a muddle-headed spirit out of an 
 Oriental fairy tale. 
 
 Higgins stood rooted to the spot as the 'plane 
 came to earth beside him; out of it climbed two 
 R.F.C. officers, both puzzled and exceedingly angry. 
 They subjected their machine to an exhaustive ex- 
 amination and then stared at each other blankly. 
 
 " Not a thing wrong, Tony. It's uncanny! " 
 
 "Uncanny!" The young pilot was almost 
 weeping with mortification. " To have that chap 
 von Hoffmeister in my hands the chap who's 
 been the thorn in our flesh this last month and 
 then be done in by by a bally miracle. It's 
 damnable ! "
 
 THE MIRACLE OF THE PLANES 33 
 
 Alfs knees trembled beneath him. He came 
 guiltily to attention, wondering if the airmen could 
 suspect his complicity in the affair. 
 
 The pilot's feelings suddenly boiled over again. 
 
 "My God!" he said thickly, "I'd like to kill 
 somebody for this ! " 
 
 Unconsciously he fixed Alf with a baleful glare. 
 
 " I'm I'm sorry, sir," quavered Private Hig- 
 gins, losing his head completely. 
 
 The observer laughed mirthlessly. 
 
 " Well," he said to Alf. " It wasn't your fault, 
 anyway. Come on, Tony, let's see if we can't find 
 a mess somewhere. You'll feel better after a 
 whisky. Not . . ." he concluded, exploding in his 
 turn, " that I -don't think it's the rottenest bit of 
 luck that ever happened." 
 
 " All right," said the pilot. " Here, you'll stand 
 by the machine, will you? I'll tell 'em in the camp 
 that I ordered you to." 
 
 " Yessir! " -said Alf, saluting; and he thankfully 
 watched them go towards the camp. 
 
 As soon as they were out of sight, Alf rubbed his 
 button. The djinn appeared, wearing a self-satis- 
 fied .smirk at the striking proof -of his powers his 
 new master had just received. 
 
 " What wouldst thou have? I am ready to obey 
 thee as thy . . ." 
 
 " Cut out the song an' dance, yer blinkin' fool," 
 said Alf fiercely. " See what you gone an' bin an' 
 done. This 'ere's a British plane savvy? I told
 
 34 ALPS BUTTON 
 
 yer to bring a Boche one them what 'as the 
 black crosses. I b'lieve yer a bally spy, I do. 'Ere, 
 git out o' me sight ! " 
 
 The djinn vanished in silence. The instant he 
 was gone Alf began to regret the lengths to which 
 his tongue had led him. How had he dared to 
 speak - so to a creature possessing unlimited powers? 
 He began to feel cold with apprehension. What 
 would happen next? 
 
 At this point he saw a tremendous commotion in 
 the camp. Men poured out of the huts and stared 
 skywards, gesticulating and shouting. Alf looked 
 upwards and saw the cause of their excitement. 
 Fully a dozen German aeroplanes were converging 
 on Alf from different quarters of the sky, each one 
 helpless in the grip of the same power that had 
 brought the British machine to earth. 
 
 It was Eustace's wholesale Oriental method of 
 making reparation. One by one the machines came 
 to earth, until all twelve were arranged in a neat 
 row beside the original victim. The dazed Ger- 
 man crews scrambled out, looking for somebody to 
 whom to surrender; but first, as was their duty, they 
 set fire to their machines. There was nobody to 
 prevent them, for though several hundred British 
 soldiers were on the way at the double, not one was 
 on the spot. 
 
 Alf had fled in panic; he skulked in retirement 
 until the excitement had died down; his one desire 
 was not to be connected in anybody's mind with the
 
 35 
 
 extraordinary and inexplicable events of that after- 
 noon. 
 
 When the German prisoners had been cleared 
 away, and the normal routine had been restored, he 
 returned to camp and displayed his button to C.S.M. 
 French. Having received a grudging assent from 
 that worthy, he drew his " bit o' black " from the 
 quartermaster-sergeant, and draped it over his talis- 
 man. As he put the last stitch in place he made a 
 mental resolve that it would be long before he would 
 meddle again with a magic productive of such un- 
 comfortable adventures.
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 THE MISGUIDED ZEAL OF EUSTACE 
 
 THE word " rest " as used at the front has been 
 described as being purely a technical term, 
 bearing no relation whatever to the other word of 
 the same name. Certainly during the last fortnight 
 of this particular period Alf Higgins and Bill Grant 
 found cause to realize the truth of this description. 
 
 A new brigadier had just been appointed to com- 
 mand the Middlesex Fusiliers Brigade. He was an 
 upstanding young giant of thirty, and the main 
 tenets of his creed were fitness and efficiency. In 
 pursuit of the latter he organized strenuous sham 
 fights over miles of country, and he urged upon his 
 colonels that only by encouraging athletic contests 
 on a hitherto unheard of scale could they hope to 
 attain the frmer. 
 
 Alf and Bill were no athletes, but they continued 
 to play football with more vigor than skill until their 
 platoon was knocked out of the battalion competi- 
 tion. They bore their defeat with stoicism, hoping 
 that they would now be allowed to assume the much 
 more accustomed and congenial role of spectators. 
 Instead of this they found themselves (to their inex- 
 pressible indignation) called upon to sustain the 
 
 36
 
 THE MISGUIDED ZEAL OF EUSTACE 37 
 
 battalion's honor in cross-country runs under the 
 eye of that speechless but efficient officer Lieutenant 
 Donaldson. 
 
 In the evenings, however, they were free to ex- 
 tract what amusement they could out of life. The 
 pierrot troupe, without which no division at the 
 front considered itself complete, played to packed 
 houses every other night in the Y.M.C.A. ; while a 
 cinematograph show had been rigged up in a barn. 
 Each day, also, a limited number of passes to 
 Amiens entitled such as were favored of Fortune 
 to a blissful day's taste of civilization. 
 
 ' To the officers, however, it seemed sometimes in- 
 credible that any of the men could patronize these 
 delights at all. 
 
 " I believe," said Richards to Allen one evening, 
 " that every man in this company must write to every 
 relation, friend, acquaintance or business connection 
 he has in Blighty seven times in the week, just to 
 spite us ! " 
 
 The company letters had just come in to be cen- 
 sored. Donaldson had gone to a Sports Committee 
 meeting, and Shaw, as mess president, was in 
 Amiens restocking the larder. 
 
 " Lord, what a pile ! " said Allen, sitting down 
 at the table and beginning his task. " It's lucky I've 
 no letters of my own to write or only a note." 
 
 He gave a sigh; the man at the front who has 
 nobody in England to write to is not to be envied. 
 
 " I have, though." said Captain Richards. " My
 
 38 ALPS BUTTON 
 
 wife'll be thinking I'm dead if I don't write her a 
 proper letter soon." 
 
 He also took a handful of letters and set to work. 
 
 "May I come in?" said a voice at the door. 
 " Or are you too busy? " 
 
 " Come in, of course, major." 
 
 The second-in-command entered, glanced round 
 and took in the situation. 
 
 " Don't let me interrupt you," he said politely. 
 " I haven't come to see you at all, so don't flatter 
 yourselves. I wanted to see Denis's Sketch and 
 Taller, that's all." 
 
 " On my bed, sir," said Allen. 
 
 " Thanks." 
 
 There was unbroken silence for some minutes. 
 Then the major cast The Taller from him with an 
 exclamation of disgust. 
 
 " I wish," he said, " that that grinning little idiot 
 would stop advertising herself for a bit. You can't 
 pick up a picture-paper without seeing her selling 
 things or dressing up or generally pushing herself 
 into the limelight. She wants smacking." 
 
 Both men at the table looked up. 
 
 "Who's the grinning idiot in question, major?" 
 
 " Isobel FitzPeter. Here you are a whole 
 page of her and her bally bulldog, labeled ' A 
 famous Beauty and Friend.' Same photograph 
 in The Sketch, called ' Beauty and the Beast ' ! It 
 makes me sick! " 
 
 Allen suddenly got up and went out of the room
 
 THE MISGUIDED ZEAL OF EUSTACE 39 
 
 without a word, very red in the face. Richards and 
 Major Parker stared after him, the former very 
 embarrassed, the latter simply surprised. 
 
 "What's the matter?" asked the major blankly. 
 
 " I expect poor old Denis felt he might have used 
 language unbefitting your rank if he'd stayed. You 
 see don't let on to a soul, mind he's most 
 frightfully gone on the FitzPeter girl." 
 
 '" Good God, Dickie, what have I said? D'you 
 mean they're engaged or anything? " 
 
 " Oh, no. I don't believe she knows him at all. 
 He used to play cricket at her father's place, and 
 they were rather pals then, I believe. But since 
 she's grown up, they've never met. But you know 
 how it is out here. If I hadn't had my wife to 
 think about, I'd have gone mad long ago. Denis 
 doesn't seem to have many feminine belongings of 
 his own, so he's simply installed this girl as a kind 
 of goddess. He seems to live for the illustrated 
 papers. simply devours them, and cuts out her pic- 
 ture. This is all rather confidential, major." 
 
 " Of course. Poor old chap. You know, 
 Dickie, I do happen to know the lady. In peace 
 time she was as nice a kid as you could want to meet. 
 If Denis hasn't met her since then, I don't wonder 
 at him, because she's really frightfully pretty. But 
 her head has been utterly turned. She acts as 
 parlor-maid once a fortnight in a hospital my sister 
 runs in Kensington, and she's more hindrance than 
 help, because she never arrives in time, and she's
 
 40 ALF'S BUTTON 
 
 always got some footling reason for wanting to go 
 early. But her photograph in V.A.D. uniform gets 
 published about once a fortnight, usually headed 
 * Nursing the Wounded/ or, * An Indefatigable War 
 Worker ' ! The worst of it is she's got brains if 
 she'd use them; only she won't. A spoilt, thought- 
 less little idiot, and as pretty as they make 'em. 
 Poor old Denis." 
 
 At this point Allen returned and resumed his work 
 without a word. The major fell silent. Richards 
 cast about for some subject to cover the awkward 
 break in the conversation. 
 
 " D'you know when we go back to the line, sir? " 
 he asked at last. 
 
 " Not settled. End of the week, I think. Look 
 here, I've interrupted you fellows quite enough. 
 Give me some of those letters." 
 
 " Thanks awfully, sir. You're a sportsman." 
 
 By dinner time the pile was finished, and Allen 
 had time to write his note. 
 
 " DEAR PEGGY," he wrote, 
 
 " Just a line to tell you I'm still alive, and hop- 
 ing to remain so. You might write to me when 
 you've time. In great haste, 
 
 " Your affectionate cousin, 
 
 " DENIS. 
 
 " P.S. If you happen to see Miss FitzPeter, 
 please give her my kind regards." 
 
 This missive he addressed to Lady Margaret
 
 THE MISGUIDED ZEAL OF EUSTACE 41 
 
 Clowes, at an address in Mayfair. She was only a 
 very distant cousin of Allen's, and there was, on 
 the face of it, no particular reason why he should 
 have written to her at all. The regularity with 
 which he had recently done so, therefore, coupled 
 with the unfailing manner in which the postscript 
 contained a polite message to Isobel FitzPeter, had 
 given away to Margaret the true state of affairs; 
 and because she liked and admired her shy cousin, 
 she had contrived to keep his name not too insis- 
 tently, and yet quite firmly, before Isobel' s mind. 
 She had determined, also, that when next Allen 
 should come home on leave, she would engineer a 
 meeting between them. 
 
 If he had known this it would have filled him with 
 joy, tempered with apprehension, for he was not 
 blind to the fact that the Isobel he had known had 
 developed into a new and rather formidable crea- 
 ture. She was now a public character, the last word 
 in smartness, and sometimes rather a loud word at 
 that. He felt that she was removed now to a sphere 
 beyond his reach, for he was a very humble-minded 
 person. Altogether, one way and another, he con- 
 trived to be acutely miserable when he had time to 
 think about anything but his work, and he rather 
 welcomed than otherwise the prospect of going back 
 into the line. 
 
 In due course an operation order came through 
 from Battalion Headquarters, setting forth in 
 minutest detail the times at which officers' valises
 
 42 ALPS BUTTON 
 
 would be packed and sent to the transport, mess- 
 boxes made ready, blankets tied into bundles and 
 delivered to the quartermaster, billets cleaned and 
 platoons ready to move. When the time came there 
 was the usual air of hopeless confusion, the ac- 
 customed mutual recriminations between conflicting 
 or overlapping authorities ; and in the end also 
 as usual the battalion marched out at the ap- 
 pointed hour, leaving behind it very little to show 
 that it had ever been there. 
 
 The brigade was to take over the same part of 
 the line it had last occupied; but in the three weeks' 
 interval that had elapsed since they had been re- 
 lieved, Hindenburg had carried out his famous " re- 
 tirement according to plan," and our friends found 
 themselves only just entering the shelled area about 
 the point where, in the days of the Big Thaw, their 
 front line had been. 
 
 The 5th Battalion this time moved straight up 
 into the front line, where they were comparatively 
 comfortable. The weather was still cold, but fine; 
 the trenches originally German property had 
 turned renegade and were now serving the British 
 very efficiently against their old masters. The sec- 
 tor was still very quiet : to all appearance the enemy 
 had gone away and left no address. Altogether 
 things were very much pleasanter than last time up. 
 
 Alf, after his former fiasco, was no longer a " run- 
 ner " ; but his chum, Bill Grant, had been selected 
 for this work, so that the two were no better off
 
 THE MISGUIDED ZEAL OF EUSTACE 43 
 
 than last time, so far as being together was con- 
 cerned. Alf felt lonely. None of the other men 
 in his platoon took much interest in him. He 
 wanted Bill's companionship his contemptuous 
 patronage of and his real affection for his slower- 
 witted companion. 
 
 His loneliness increased daily, until it became 
 acute; and at last one day, being on sentry-go in a 
 bay all by himself, he bethought himself of his But- 
 ton. His mates were snoring in a dug-out close by; 
 no sign had been seen from the German trenches all 
 day. He had strained his eyes across No-Man's- 
 Land until he had begun to feel intolerably drowsy 
 himself. If something did not happen soon, there 
 was a danger that the officer or N.C.O. on duty 
 might find him asleep at his post. 
 
 Eustace seemed to be his only chance. 
 
 He rubbed the Button. 
 
 "What wouldst thou have? I am ready. . . ." 
 
 " 'Op it, quick! " was Alf's startling rejoinder. 
 
 Eustace, looking upset, complied. He was be- 
 ginning to wonder whether he was being victimized. 
 This new Master of his who gave incomprehensible 
 orders and then seemed far from pleased when the 
 orders were carried out, also seemed to have a taste 
 for summoning him merely for the pleasure of seeing 
 him vanish. 
 
 But Alf had a better reason than this. He had 
 heard voices further along the trench. A moment 
 after Eustace had disappeared, Lieutenant Shaw
 
 44 ALF'S BUTTON 
 
 came round the traverse with the N.C.O. on duty, in 
 the course of his tour of inspection along the " C " 
 Company front. 
 
 " Alone, Higgins? " asked the officer, with a hint 
 of surprise in his voice. 
 
 " Yessir." 
 
 " I thought I heard voices." 
 
 " Only me 'ummin', sir." 
 
 "I see. All quiet?" 
 
 "Yessir! Nothin' doin' at all!" 
 ' Well " Second-Lieutenant Shaw had not yet 
 shed his youthful pride at being in the thick of 
 things, and puffed himself out a little and became 
 most impressive " you want to keep an extra sharp 
 look-out from now until we stand-to at dusk. We've 
 an idea that something's going to happen. Prob- 
 ably Fritz will try a raid. This quiet is very sus- 
 picious." 
 
 He passed on with the sergeant. As soon as he 
 was well out of earshot, Alf recalled the spirit, who 
 looked so hurt that his Master felt that an apology 
 was due to him. 
 
 " Sorry, Eustace, but if the orficer 'ad seen you 
 talkin' to me, there'd 'ave been trouble. Civilians 
 ain't allowed in the trenches, 'cept with a special 
 pass; so when anybody comes, you must 'op it with- 
 out waitin' for orders. See? " 
 
 Eustace bowed gravely. 
 
 " Now, look 'ere," continued Alf, gazing ear- 
 nestly over the parapet as he spoke, " I just bin
 
 THE MISGUIDED ZEAL OF EUSTACE 45 
 
 thinkin' about yer. If you could only get out o' this 
 'abit o' practical jokin' an' so on, you might be quite 
 a useful sort o' feller. Now, tell me fair, what can 
 you do? I don't mean larkin' with airyplanes, but 
 terious things." 
 
 " My Lord hath but to command." 
 
 " Yes, it's easy enough to say that, but I can't 
 think o' things. . . . Now, s'posin' . . . that is. 
 . . . Look 'ere, what I really want is something to 
 keep me safe if the blighted Boche comes over. 
 Now, what can you show me?" 
 
 " Master, I comprehend not thy speech." 
 
 " Lumme, I speak plain enough English, I 'ope. 
 I say, what I want is something to keep me safe if 
 the Boche comes over. The Boche, you know I 
 Fritz! The 'Un! The fellers across there, you 
 blinkin' image ! The Germans ! " 
 
 " My Lord desires protection from his enemies." 
 
 " That's better, Eustace. Think it out, and you'll 
 get there in time." 
 
 " It shall be so. Behold I" 
 
 An object appeared in the Spirit's hand. 
 
 " Behold, O Lord of Might, the helmet of in- 
 visibility. Clad in this thou canst be seen of no 
 mortal eye. So mayest thou move among the hosts 
 of the enemy, seeing all, yet seen of none." 
 
 "By guml" commented Alf, much impressed, 
 " that's a bit of all right. Shouldn't mind doing 
 daylight patrols with that on. Knocks a tin 'at all 
 to blazes."
 
 46 ALPS BUTTON 
 
 He pondered a moment and began to see the dis- 
 advantages of the idea. 
 
 " The trouble is," he explained, " the orficer 
 seems to think the 'osts of the enemy is goin' to move 
 about us just now. Where should I be then? 
 They'd all think I'd 'ad the wind up and 'opped it. 
 An' then, 'ow about shell-fire? Just bein' invisible 
 won't stop no Perishin' Percies. What I want is 
 something well, you know what I mean. Can't 
 you get me something to keep off the bullets ? " 
 
 " Verily that can I," said Eustace, with an air 
 suggesting that Alf was simply wasting his time with 
 niggling details. " Just such a thing as thou desirest 
 was aforetime in the treasury of the great King Uz; 
 my spirits shall procure it for thee. Whoso weareth 
 this can come to no hurt through weapons forged by 
 man." 
 
 " That's the ticket, if Mr. What's-'is-name won't 
 be wanting it for 'isself. 'E's probably 'elpin' with 
 this 'ere War somewhere or other." 
 
 " Uz hath been dead these many cycles upon 
 him be peace ! " returned Eustace. He raised his 
 hand, and, with an awesome clang, a cumbrous suit 
 of armor, complete in every detail, fell into the 
 trench. The djinn wore an expression of mild tri- 
 umph. This time, he seemed to think, even this 
 strange new master of his must be satisfied. He 
 was not in the least prepared for Alf's reception of 
 his performance. 
 
 " Take it away," shrieked Private Higgins, in an
 
 THE MISGUIDED ZEAL OF EUSTACE 47 
 
 agony at the idea of having to explain away such a 
 phenomenon to his superiors. " Take it away, you 
 blinkin' fool, and 'op it yerself. What the blazes 
 d'you think yer doin'? 'Ere, get out of it, quick. 
 Somebody's comin'." 
 
 Somebody was. 
 
 The whole of Number Nine Platoon, awakened 
 from its slumbers, came tumbling out of its dug- 
 outs, adjusting its gas masks as it came. A horrible 
 ghoul, dimly recognizable through the windows of 
 its respirator as Sergeant Lees, came and gibbered 
 at Alf. 
 
 'What's up, sergeant?" asked Alf in amaze- 
 ment. 
 
 " Gas ! " replied the sergeant, removing his mouth- 
 piece for a moment in order -to speak more clearly. 
 " Why the 'ell ain't you got yer mask on? Didn't 
 you 'ear the gong? " 
 
 Higgins realized with horror what had happened. 
 The clang of the armor had been mistaken for a gas- 
 gong by a sentry in the next bay, who had promptly 
 given the alarm. He tried feebly to straighten mat- 
 ters out; but it was too late now. The word had 
 spread; the Boche, seeing the commotion in our 
 lines, had sprung to arms; and both armies stood 
 tense, each convinced that the other was going to 
 make a surprise attack. A heavy fusillade with 
 rifles and machine guns, rifle grenades and trench 
 mortars began, and in its turn spread along the lines 
 with great swiftness. Then somebody put up an
 
 48 ALFS BUTTON 
 
 S.O.S. flare, and the guns, which had only been wait- 
 ing for this invitation, joined in. For the next few 
 minutes the Messina earthquake or an eruption of 
 Vesuvius would have been welcomed as quiet inter- 
 ludes by Richards, Allen & Co. 
 
 Further back, astonished Staff-Officers were 
 springing to the telephone to demand by what right 
 this intense but unauthorized warfare was taking 
 place, and what it was all about, anyway. Further 
 back still, troops in rest billets looked up from their 
 magazines or their letters home and thanked Heaven 
 that they were not in the shoes of the poor blighters 
 in the line. 
 
 Then both sides seemed to discover that nothing 
 much was happening after all, and the whole thing 
 died away as suddenly as it had begun. But that 
 night the sentries were doubled, and as Higgins 
 sulkily performed his extra hours of duty, his feel- 
 ings towards his well-meaning but tactless familiar 
 were such that he nearly brought his adventures to 
 an untimely close by cutting off the Button and fling- 
 ing it over the parapet
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 EUSTACE FETCHES BEER 
 
 AFTER this sudden burst of excitement had 
 died away, a watchful calm descended on the 
 front line. " C " Company were relieved next day 
 by " B " Company, and went into close support. 
 Here they were in a zone more subjected to shell- 
 fire than in the front line itself; but this worried 
 them very little, as for the most part they spent 
 their four days snugly in dug-outs, listening to the 
 occasional dull thud caused by an explosion up above, 
 and waiting in readiness to turn out at any moment 
 in the event of a raid. One or two parties were 
 called out to carry rations up to " B " Company, but 
 the only casualty was a man who was hit in the arm 
 by a shell-splinter, and departed for " Blighty " 
 openly exulting in his good fortune. 
 
 On the fourth day the battalion was relieved and 
 went back into Brigade Reserve. Here they were 
 to stay for eight days while the battalion in the line 
 completed its duty. What might happen after that 
 was a matter for speculation, known only to Prov- 
 idence and possibly (though not very probably) 
 the Staff. Anyhow, the events of so dim and dis- 
 tant a future were a matter of supreme indifference 
 to the rank and file. It was enough for them that 
 
 49
 
 50 ALFS BUTTON 
 
 for a week or so at any rate they would have deep, 
 warm dug-outs, well back from the line. 
 
 As soon as the company settled in, Bill Grant re- 
 turned to the platoon, his services as extra runner 
 being no longer required. Alf would have wel- 
 comed him under any circumstances; but on this oc- 
 casion he was specially glad to have his pal back 
 again. He was worried and needed advice. He 
 had, in fact, decided to take Bill into his confidence 
 on the subject of Eustace, and was now simply wait- 
 ing for an opportunity of a private and uninterrupted 
 conversation with him. A tete-a tete, especially if 
 it entails a practical demonstration of oriental 
 magic, is not the easiest thing on earth for two Tom- 
 mies in the forward area to arrange. 
 
 A kindly Fate assisted them, however. The par- 
 ticular system of trenches they were inhabiting, like 
 all systems constructed by that industrious mole, the 
 Boche, was honeycombed with deep dug-outs far 
 more than the 5th Battalion could possibly use. It 
 occurred to the two warriors that it would be an ex- 
 cellent plan to find a disused and secluded specimen 
 for their own private use. In such a haven Alf 
 could unfold his portentous secret without fear of 
 interruption, while Bill, who objected on principle 
 to being put on working parties and fatigues, felt 
 that the best safeguard against inclusion in these 
 treats was an alibi. After a search they discovered 
 a snug retreat in which they intended to spend as 
 much of their spare time as possible, returning to
 
 5 1 
 
 their mates only at meal-times and other occasions 
 when their absence might be noticed. 
 
 The afternoon was pleasantly mild, and for the 
 first time the air seemed to contain a hint of Spring. 
 Instead of retiring underground they sat in the en- 
 trance of their new home quietly smoking. As soon 
 as their pipes were well alight, Alf broached the sub- 
 ject which was weighing so heavily on his mind. 
 
 " Bill," he asked. " D'yer believe in spirits? " 
 
 " Prefer beer." 
 
 " Not them sort o' spirits, I don't mean. I mean 
 spooks. D'yer believe in spooks, Bill?" 
 
 " People what sees spooks," said Bill dogmati- 
 cally, " is liars, or boozed." 
 
 Grant's attitude was unpromising, but Alf was 
 determined to persevere. 
 
 " What would yer say if I told yer I'd seen a 
 spook, Bill?" he demanded. 
 
 " I'd say you'd 'ad a drop too much," was the un- 
 compromising reply. 
 
 " An' if I saw it when I 'adn't 'ad a drop at 
 all?" 
 
 Bill turned and regarded him. 
 
 " Look 'ere, Alf 'Iggins," he remarked acidly. 
 " Yer worse'n a bloomin' kid f'r asking yer blighted 
 silly questions. If you got anything to say, for 
 'Eaven's sake spit it out an' 'ave done with it." 
 
 Thus adjured, Alf plunged into his story, omitting 
 only his adventure with the aeroplanes, which he con- 
 sidered would be safer hidden even from Bill.
 
 52 ALPS BUTTON 
 
 That gentleman heard him to the end without 
 comment. 
 
 " I b'lieve it's up to me to take yer to the M.O.," 
 he said at last seriously. 
 
 Alf was annoyed. 
 
 " Don't be a idjit. This is a real spook, I tell 
 yer!" 
 
 " Garn ! You bin sleepin' on yer back an' dreamt 
 it all. Why, this 'ere Aladdin you talk about 
 there never was no sich feller. 'E's just a bloke in 
 a fairy story." 
 
 "Dreamt it!" repeated Alf indignantly. 
 " Dream be blowed. I couldn't dream meself pink 
 all over, could I ? " 
 
 " No, but you could catch scarlet fever an' 'ave 
 delirious trimmings on top of it," said Bill causti- 
 cally. " But you can't make me see this blessed 
 spook o' yours, any'ow." 
 
 This was a direct challenge, and Alf rubbed his 
 Button. Bill's tin hat fell off. 
 
 " Lor' ! " he said, sitting up straight. 
 
 "What wouldst thou have?" enquired Eustace. 
 " I am ready to obey thee as thy slave. . . ." 
 
 " 'Op it," replied Alf feebly. He had forgotten 
 to think out any excuse for summoning the djinn, 
 and could think of nothing else to say. Eustace, his 
 opinion of Alf obviously lower than ever, disap- 
 peared. 
 
 " Lumme ! " said Bill. He smoked in silence for 
 some minutes, deep in thought.
 
 53 
 
 " Where the 'ell does 'e come from, and what 
 does 'e do? " he asked at length. 
 
 " That spook, o' course." 
 
 " I dunno. I rubs me Button, an' 'e bounces in 
 an' asks for orders. 'Alf the time I don't want 'im 
 at all. An' if I do tell 'im to do things, 'e gets 'em 
 all wrong. 'E don't seem to lave no common sense, 
 some'ow." 
 
 Bill was following out some train of thought. 
 
 " Look 'ere, Alf," he said. " What can you re- 
 member about this feller Aladdin? What 'appened 
 to 'im in the panto? " 
 
 Alf considered. 
 
 ' There was a bloke sang something about a rose 
 growin' in a garden. Pathetic it was," he an- 
 nounced after deep thought. 
 
 " Blighted fool ! " commented Bill with pardon- 
 able heat. " I don't mean that. What 'appened 
 to this chap, Aladdin, 'isself ? " 
 
 " Oh, 'im 1 A bloomin' girl, 'e was, in the 
 pantomime. I didn't take much notice what 'ap- 
 pened to 'im married some one, I think." 
 
 "Yes, but 'oo? " asked Bill, with an air of playing 
 his trump card. 
 
 " I dunno. Princess Something." 
 
 " That's what I remember. An' they 'ad palaces, 
 an' jools, an' money, an' everything. An' 'ow did 
 they get 'em, eh ? " 
 
 " I dunno."
 
 54 ALPS BUTTON 
 
 Alf was really being very dense. Bill tapped him 
 impressively on the arm. 
 
 " Your spook brought 'em," he said. 
 
 "Eustace?" 
 
 "That what you call 'im? Yes, 'im." 
 
 They gazed at each other, Bill in triumph. Alf 
 in astonishment; at last the latter found his voice. 
 
 " I never thought o' that kind o' thing! " he said. 
 
 " No, you're a proper thick-'ed," retorted Grant 
 unkindly. " Now, you send for 'im an' make 'im 
 do something useful for a change." 
 
 "What shall it be?" 
 
 " Mine," replied Bill, without hesitation, " is beer. 
 Always was. An' mind, none o' that Govermint 
 muck neither. Something with a bit o' body in it." 
 
 " Send 'im for beer? " whispered Alf in horror. 
 He could not have looked more shocked if Bill had 
 suggested sending the sergeant-major to buy him a 
 paper. He had an instinctive feeling that Eustace 
 was one to do things on a grand scale, and would 
 resent being employed as a mere potman. He 
 rubbed his Button nervously, and avoided Eustace's 
 eye. 
 
 " Is it my Lord's desire that his servant should 
 hop it?" asked the spirit, abandoning his usual 
 formula. He was, he felt, just beginning to settle 
 down to his new master's ways. 
 
 " No," said Alf, fixing his eyes on vacancy. 
 " Bring me two beers, please, Eustace." 
 
 "Two biers, O possessor of wisdom?" repeated
 
 EUSTACE FETCHES BEER 55; 
 
 the djinn, wondering if his startled ears could have 
 heard aright. 
 
 " Yes. Two beers, I said. And 'urry up." 
 
 Eustace bowed low, muttered " Thy wish is my 
 command," and vanished. Almost immediately 
 afterwards, with a dull thud apiece, two cumber- 
 some and curiously carved stone sarcophagi fell side 
 by side into the trench, which they blocked com- 
 pletely. Alf and Bill gazed open-mouthed first at 
 the two sepulchers and then at one another. 
 
 " What the 'ell's this mean? " asked Bill at last. 
 
 Alf, mortified beyond measure at the failure of 
 his attempt to impress his pal, gave a resigned ges- 
 ture. 
 
 " What did I tell yer? " he asked. " That's the 
 kind o' thing 'e's always doin' ! No common 
 
 sense." 
 
 " Well, p'raps 'e misunderstood yer. P'raps 'e 
 thought you wanted. . . ." 
 
 " Thought I wanted! Didn't I speak plain Eng- 
 lish? Ain't 'beer' plain enough for 'im? 'Ow 
 can 'e 'ave misunderstood ' beer ' ? " 
 
 "Well, p'raps these 'ere things are called { beer ' 
 in 'is language." 
 
 Alf snorted. 
 
 " I ask yer, do they look like it? No, it's just 
 'is fat-'eaded way." 
 
 He rubbed his Button fiercely. 
 
 " Take these blinkin' egg-boxes away, Eustace," 
 he said. " An' pull yerself together. I asked
 
 56 ALPS BUTTON 
 
 yer for beer stuff what you drinks, savvy?" 
 
 He made a gesture of drinking. The djinn, with 
 a sudden light of comprehension in his face, bowed 
 and vanished with the sarcophagi, to reappear a 
 moment later with an enormous tray on his head. 
 From this he proceeded to deal out a great number 
 of covered metal plates, exactly as a conjurer pro- 
 duces strange objects from a top hat. He set them 
 down in the trench, and with a final flourish brought 
 forth an enormous silver flagon and two heavily 
 chased goblets. These he placed with the other 
 things, and disappeared. 
 
 "Ah!" said Bill, smacking his lips in anticipa- 
 tion. " This looks more like it. Bit 'olesale in 'is 
 ways, ain't 'e? Seems to take us for the Lord 
 Mayor's Banquet." 
 
 He lifted the cover from one of the plates and 
 smelt the contents. 
 
 " Fish o' some kind," he said dubiously. " Smells 
 funny. Never could stand them foreign messes." 
 
 Alf did likewise to another dish. 
 
 " Muck," he said succinctly. " Give me good ole 
 roast beef an' mutton every time. I likes to know 
 what I'm eatin', I do. Pour the drink out, Bill." 
 
 Thus adjured, Bill filled the goblets and passed 
 one to Alf. 
 
 "Good 'ealth!" 
 
 " Good 'ealth ! " chorused both warriors. Their 
 heads went back in unison; also in unison, they gave 
 a tremendous splutter of disgust.
 
 EUSTACE FETCHES BEER 57 
 
 " My Gawd! " said Alf thickly, " Fm poisoned! 
 What the 'ell is it?" 
 
 " Tastes like a mixture of 'oney an' ink, with a 
 dash o' chlorate o' lime," said Bill, apparently try- 
 ing to shake the remains of the nauseous mixture 
 from the roof of his mouth. " 'Ere, 'ave that 
 blinkin' spook o' yours back again an' tell 'im orf." 
 
 Once more Alf rubbed the button and summoned 
 his familiar. 
 
 " What wouldst thou have," said Eustace, ap- 
 pearing promptly, but with a trace of resentment in 
 his face. " I am ready. . . ." 
 
 " Stow it ! " said Alf. " You're a lot too ready, 
 seems to me. Why d'yer want to bring us all this 
 bloomin' lay-out? I didn't order no food, an' if I 
 'ad I wouldn't 'ave meant un'oly messes like that. 
 You're too blinkin' 'olesale in yer ways. Take it all 
 away. An' as for drink, you've 'arf poisoned us 
 with the muck you've brought." 
 
 " Lord of might," said Eustace. u These are 
 of the choicest of the meats and the wines of 
 Arabia." 
 
 " Gawd 'elp Arabia, then. An' I asked for beer, 
 B-E-A-R, beer. D'yer mean to say they don't 'ave 
 it in Arabia?" 
 
 Eustace shook his head. 
 
 "Poor blighters!" put in Bill. "No wonder 
 they're 'eathens." 
 
 " Now, look 'ere, Eustace," said Alf instructively. 
 "Beer is er beer is well, it's. ... I say,
 
 58 ALF'S BUTTON 
 
 Bill, 'ow the 'ell can yer explain beer to any one as 
 doesn't know what it is? " 
 
 " Well," said Bill. " It's brown stuff, made from 
 'ops an' malt an' such, an' you get it in Blighty 
 that's England, you savvy in barrels. Just you 
 'op over there, an' you'll see. Or any one'll tell 
 you." 
 
 This lucid explanation sufficed Eustace, for this 
 time he disappeared with the scorned banquet, and 
 returned in a twinkling with two foaming tank- 
 ards. 
 
 Alf and Bill smelt the contents with grave sus- 
 picion, which changed at once to a happy foaming 
 smile apjece. 
 
 "That's the goods! " said Alf. 
 
 "Ah!" said Bill, smacking his lips with deep 
 satisfaction. " Ole Aladdin knew a thing or two, 
 'e did. Let's 'ave another o' the same an' drink 'is 
 'ealth." 
 
 " No, Bill. It'll 'urt ole Eustace' feelings. If 
 you was a spook what could build palaces an' sich 
 in 'arf a tick, would you like to 'ave to go all the 
 way to 'ell for two bloomin' pints? Besides we've 
 kept 'im on the go pretty fair as it is." 
 
 " Make it 'ogs'eds, then." 
 
 But Alf was adamant. 
 
 * Very well, don't then," said Grant with sudden 
 asperity. " But if yer won't oblige a pal in a little 
 thing like that, w'y don't yer get on with it an' do 
 something? Fat lot o' good you done so far with
 
 EUSTACE FETCHES BEER 59 
 
 yer pet devil! W'y, yer mighter stopped the 'ole 
 war by now." 
 
 "Might I? 'Ow?" 
 
 " Easy enough. All you gotter do is to send ole 
 Eustace over to fetch the Kaiser 'ere, an' there yer 
 are ! Can't yer see it in all the papers ' Private 
 Alf 'Iggins, V.C. The 'ero as captured the 
 Kaiser'?" 
 
 " Yes, I see meself gettin' it in the neck. I 'ope 
 I knows my place better'n to go monkeyin' with 
 kings. . . . Look out, the orficers ! " 
 
 It was too late for them to gain the sanctuary of 
 their dug-out, and they rose awkwardly to their feet 
 as Shaw and Donaldson came along the trench. 
 They had been out on an exploring expedition. Bill 
 and Alf, seeing that neither Richards nor Allen was 
 present, had hopes that they would not attract at- 
 tention; but Donaldson, for all his sleepy appear- 
 ance, was quick of eye. 
 
 "What's that in your hand, Grant?" he asked. 
 
 Bill, cursing inwardly the prying spirit to which 
 he considered the commissioned ranks much too 
 prone, reluctantly drew from behind him the tankard 
 from which he had been drinking. Higgins did like- 
 wise, and the officers took one each. 
 
 " How awfully interesting," said Shaw- 
 " Where did you find these, Grant? " 
 
 " In one of these 'ere dug-outs, sir." 
 
 " By Jove, Don ! " Shaw turned to his companion,, 
 " Fritz does love to do himself well ! "
 
 60 ALF'S BUTTON 
 
 He broke off in surprise. Donaldson had sud- 
 denly thrown off his air of boredom and was ex- 
 amining his tankard with an alert eye. 
 
 " Must be looted stuff," he said. " I'm a bit of 
 an expert in these things. That's ancient oriental 
 work, worth quite a bit." 
 
 " Excuse me, sir," put in Bill suavely. " But if 
 this 'ere is any good to you as a souvenir, I don't set 
 no partickler store by it." 
 
 " Nor me, sir," agreed Alf. 
 
 "Want to sell?" 
 
 " If you like, sir." 
 
 " Can't afford it. I'm not going to do you in. 
 These mugs are probably worth a good bit." 
 
 " That's all right, sir. We'd much rather 'ave 
 ten francs apiece now, sir. We didn't neither of us 
 get much last time we 'ad a pay." 
 
 " Whose fault was that? " asked Shaw. 
 
 " I'll give you," Donaldson said, " twenty francs 
 each all I can manage." 
 
 " Thank you, sir." 
 
 " And mind, I expect to see some of this sent home 
 when I censor the letters. I wouldn't give you so 
 much all at once if we were in a place where we 
 could get beer " 
 
 " Aren't we, though," put in Shaw, pointing to 
 a drop of amber liquid in the tankard he held. 
 "Smell that!" 
 
 Donaldson sniffed. 
 
 " Beer, and good beer at that," he pronounced.
 
 EUSTACE FETCHES BEER 61 
 
 He looked enquiringly at the two Tommies. Alf 
 gave himself up for lost, but not so Bill. 
 
 " Yes, sir," he said easily. " I noticed that me- 
 self." 
 
 " I dare say," answered Donaldson grimly. 
 "The point is, can you explain it?" 
 
 Bill's face grew preternaturally innocent. 
 
 " I expect, sir, Fritz left the mugs behind 'im in 
 the Big Frost, sir, an' the drops got froze in. 
 Prob'ly thawed again with the warmth of our 'ands." 
 
 Donaldson eyed the propounder of this ingenious 
 theory gravely. 
 
 " Probably," he agreed. And relapsing into his 
 customary taciturnity, he strode off down the trench 
 with his two mugs, little Shaw trotting behind, still 
 lost in wonder at the sudden discovery of an artistic 
 side in old Don. 
 
 " 'E don't believe yer," said Alf apprehensively. 
 
 " 'Course not. 'E's no fool, isn't Don, for all 'e 
 looks 'arf asleep. But Vs a sport, an' 'e likes a 
 good lie. You'll see, Vll say no more about it. 
 Let's 'ave another." 
 
 Alf, whose throat was parched with all he had 
 been through, this time let no consideration for the 
 feelings of Eustace deter him.
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 ISOBEL'S " DREAM " 
 
 FOR the next day or two Alf found life very 
 hard. Bill's appetite for beer increased by 
 geometrical progression; and Eustace's possible in- 
 dignation at being constantly summoned merely to 
 supply Private Grant with large bitters filled Alf 
 with the liveliest apprehension. He felt that Bill 
 who, under the influence of unlimited liquor, was 
 losing his moral sense was not playing the game. 
 He even descended to the level of intimidating Hig- 
 gins, when he declared himself unprepared to risk 
 the djinn's displeasure any longer, by the use of 
 threats. 
 
 " Stop me beer, will yer? " said Grant. " Very 
 well, then. We'll just see what the R.S.M. 'as to 
 say about yer goin's on. 'E won't 'arf tell yer orf, 
 Idcn'tthink!" 
 
 The regimental sergeant-major is ex officio the 
 most terrible individual of a battalion from the 
 point of view of the private soldier. True, the 
 colonel is greater than he, in that from that officer 
 the R.S.M. takes his orders; but the colonel so 
 far as Higgins and his peers were concerned was 
 a mere abstraction. The R.S.M. overshadowed 
 
 62
 
 ISOBEL'S " DREAM " 63 
 
 him much as, in the eyes of unimaginative heathens, 
 the priest overshadows the deity whose minister he 
 is. 
 
 The R.S.M. of the 5th Middlesex Fusiliers, too, 
 was a martinet of the most approved Regular Army 
 type. His horizon was bounded on the one side by 
 King's Regulations and on the other by the Manual 
 of Military Law; and if he should become aware 
 that a private of his battalion was so lost to the 
 meaning of military discipline as to keep an un- 
 authorized familiar spirit, the only possible result 
 would be an explosion of wrath too terrible even to 
 contemplate. Of this threat, therefore, Bill Grant 
 made shameless use ; and day by day he became more 
 bibulous, Eustace more displeased, and Alf more 
 miserable. 
 
 Alf racked his rather inadequate brains in the 
 hope that Necessity would acknowledge her reputed 
 offspring, Invention, and find him a way out of his 
 troubles. But in the end Bill brought about his own 
 undoing. He had a lively and, in his cups, a lurid 
 imagination; and by giving it too free rein, he sug- 
 gested to Alf a counter-threat. 
 
 " 'Ow'd it be, ole f'ler," said Bill thickly, on the 
 second day, after having kept Eustace almost con- 
 tinuously employed for several hours, " to 'ave old 
 Eustish up again 'n tell 'im to turn the R.Esh.M. 
 into a rhinosherush ? " 
 
 To Alf this remark seemed not so much humorous 
 as blasphemous; but it was also most illuminating.
 
 64 ALF'S BUTTON 
 
 It opened his eyes to an aspect of his new powers 
 which, left to himself, he would never have thought 
 of. 
 
 "Look 'ere, Bill Grant!" he said, in suddenly 
 confident tones. " That'll be about enough from 
 you, see? Not another drop o' beer do you get till 
 I says so. 'E's my spook, Eustace is; an' if I 'as 
 any more o' yer nonsense I'll take an' tell 'im to 
 change you into something. 'Ow'd yer like to be a 
 a transport mule, eh?" 
 
 Bill, suddenly smitten into something approach- 
 ing sobriety, had no word to say. Alf, following 
 up his advantage, continued his harangue. 
 
 " Not one drop more do yer get," he reiterated. 
 " Eustace 'as been gettin' that fed up, I've been 
 expectin' 'im to give me a month's notice any min- 
 ute. An' nice we'd look if 'e started playin' monkey 
 tricks on 'is own. All this beer business, you know; 
 it ain't what 'e's been brought up to." 
 
 " 'E can't do nothin', not without you tells 'im," 
 said Bill, with a certainty he was far from feeling. 
 
 " Ah, an' 'ow do we know that? 'E might break 
 loose an' then where'd we be? I've fair got the 
 wind up, I tell yer. What we wanted to do is to 
 'umor the blighter." 
 
 '"Ow?" 
 
 " I dunno. 'Ow'd it be to give 'im something to 
 do as 'e'd really enjoy a decent job just to put 'im 
 in a good temper again? " 
 
 " Buildin' palaces was 'is old line," mused Bill.
 
 ISOBEL'S "DREAM" 65 
 
 " Aye, but buildin' palaces 'ere would be just a 
 blighted waste o' time," replied Alf, with strong 
 common sense. " Can't you think o' nothin' else? " 
 
 Bill pondered deeply. 
 
 " Tell 'im," he suggested at last, " to bring us a 
 girl. I'm fair sick for the sight of a pretty face." 
 
 " Dunno if that's much good. 'E mayn't care for 
 females." 
 
 " Well, it is part of 'is peace-time job, anyway. 
 Don't I tell yer 'e brought Aladdin a princess? " 
 
 " I'll try it. Any'ow, it'll be a change for 'im 
 arter all that beer." 
 
 Eustace, it was obvious, approved of the idea. 
 This new command was completely in accord with 
 his ancient tradition. 
 
 "A maid fair as the dawn, great Master! It 
 shall be so ! " he said. 
 
 "Yes, and" Alf suddenly remembered a re- 
 cent abortive attempt to dally with a pretty French 
 girl in an estaminet, and determined to run no fur- 
 ther risks " a English one." 
 
 " 'Ere," put in Bill. " Make it two." 
 
 But the djinn had vanished. 
 
 " All right, Bill," Higgins said soothingly. 
 " We'll send 'im back for one for you. Wonder 
 what 'e'll bring for me one of the 'Ippodrome 
 chorus, I 'ope." 
 
 Lady Margaret Clowes and Isobel FitzPeter were 
 walking together along the edge of the Row in
 
 66 ALF'S BUTTON 
 
 Hyde Park. Margaret was wearing the workman- 
 like, if unbeautiful, Red Cross uniform, for she was 
 a hard-working V.A.D. at a private hospital. 
 Isobel was a dainty vision, rivaling the lilies of the 
 field. 
 
 " Did I tell you I'd had another letter from my 
 cousin at the front?" asked Margaret. 
 
 "Which one?" 
 
 " Denis. Denis Allen. He sent you his kind re- 
 gards. He's a nice boy. Do you remember him? " 
 
 " Hardly at all. He played cricket at Dunwater 
 once or twice when I was a child. Really, Peggy, 
 I'm getting fed up with men. Since those ridiculous 
 papers took to publishing my photograph, every silly 
 boy I've ever spoken to seems to want me to write 
 to him." 
 
 " Why do you let them do it? " asked Margaret. 
 
 " I can't stop them writing to me, if they know 
 my address." 
 
 " The papers, I mean. It's all very well calling 
 them ridiculous, but you know that you give them 
 every assistance." 
 
 " Rubbish ! " Isobel's voice sounded scornful, 
 but a sudden blush gave her away. Margaret, who 
 had just come off duty after an unusually exacting 
 spell, was rather out of patience with field-lilies. 
 She returned to the attack. 
 
 " It isn't rubbish. And I don't think you ought 
 to talk about the boys who write to you as you do. 
 You make me very angry. After all, they are risk-
 
 ISOBEL'S "DREAM" 67 
 
 ing their lives, which is more than you can say." 
 
 " Well, how can I ? I've often told you I'd love 
 to go to the front," Isobel protested. 
 
 " Yes in a spirit of vulgar curiosity, I suppose, 
 just to have a look round. Iso, I could shake you, 
 you're so self-satisfied, and so futile." 
 
 " Well, I think you're horribly rude. If you 
 can't be more amusing, I'm going home. I've my 
 part to learn for. . . ." 
 
 "Oh look! there's a horse bolting!" inter- 
 rupted Margaret. She ran to the railings and 
 watched breathlessly, while the mounted policeman 
 on duty, who seemed to regard the whole affair as 
 being in the day's work, caught the runaway and 
 averted what might have been a very nasty accident. 
 When she turned to speak to her companion, Isobel 
 was no longer there. 
 
 "Temper!" thought Margaret to herself. "I 
 suppose I was rather cross but really Isobel's 
 enough to try a saint sometimes. She must have 
 gone off pretty quickly, too. However. . . ." 
 
 Margaret was quite undisturbed even a little 
 amused at her friend's departure. She and Isobel 
 often had fierce little quarrels, but these never had 
 any lasting effect on their friendship. She would 
 see Isobel to-morrow, and the whole thing would be 
 forgotten. For the present, she continued her walk 
 alone. 
 
 An old gentleman sitting on a seat near by, who 
 had chanced to be looking at Isobel at the moment
 
 68 ALF'S BUTTON 
 
 when Eustace (having awarded her the prize in his 
 private beauty competition) swooped down and car- 
 ried her off, was the only actual spectator of her dis- 
 appearance. Doubting the evidence of his senses, 
 he waited anxiously until Margaret should find out 
 what had happened; he looked for her to scream or 
 faint, or show her horror by some emotional up- 
 heaval; when she simply walked on as if nothing 
 out of the ordinary had happened, he was smitten 
 with panic. He dashed home and went straight to 
 bed. 
 
 Isobel's surprise and alarm when she found her- 
 self unexpectedly face to face with two tinhatted 
 and unwashed Tommies in a subterranean cavern, 
 lit only by a feeble gleam of daylight from the roof, 
 was obvious; but she was too well bred to allow her 
 emotions to master her. For a moment, conscious 
 thought seemed to be suspended in her. Then, as 
 the objects about her took shape, she decided that 
 she must be dreaming. 
 
 At once all sense of fear left her. If it was only 
 a dream, she argued to herself, it could not matter 
 what happened to her. She waited with a kind of 
 amused expectancy to see what turn events would 
 take. 
 
 Alf and Bill, on the other hand, were not a little 
 disturbed. They had realized at once that Eustace, 
 in his ignorance, had committed an awful social 
 solecism. Even the resourceful Bill's imagination
 
 ISOBEL'S "DREAM" 69 
 
 boggled at the idea of explaining to this dainty 
 vision how she came to be in her present surround- 
 ings. They stood before her, embarrassed and 
 tongue-tied. Alf thought of recalling the djinn and 
 telling him to take her straight back; but his very 
 real and increasing fear of offending his familiar 
 forbade. Besides, 'his visitor was very lovely, and 
 filled his jaded masculine eye with a lively sense of 
 satisfaction. 
 
 After a while the silence became oppressive and 
 Isobel spoke. 
 
 " Where am I? " she asked. " Who are you? " 
 
 Bill, who had been making a surreptitious and 
 feline toilet in the gloomy recesses of the dug-out, 
 stepped forward and saluted. 
 
 " Don't be frightened, miss," he said soothingly, 
 " but this 'ere's a dug-out in France, on the Western 
 Front." 
 
 " That proves it," said Isobel to herself, with a 
 certain satisfaction. " It is just a vivid dream. 
 Perhaps it's telepathy or levitation or something. 
 Anyway, the great point to remember is that I'm 
 not really here at all." 
 
 The two men watched her anxiously. Both had 
 expected her to be terrified at the news. Her air of 
 unruffled serenity alarmed them, because neither 
 could understand it. 
 
 " Now let me see," she continued her train of 
 thought " a few minutes ago, I was in the Park 
 with Peggy but perhaps I dreamt that, too. In
 
 70 ALPS BUTTON 
 
 fact I must have. ... I don't remember going to 
 bed, though. . . . Oh, well, it's no good worrying, 
 it'll be all right when I wake up. A dug-out?" 
 She echoed Bill's words uncertainly. 
 
 ' Yes, miss. I'm very sorry, miss. If you 
 please, it's all a mistake. We didn't mean no 'arm. 
 If you'll just wait a minute, we'll send you back 
 again to London quite all. . . ." 
 
 But Isobel's usual spirit returned to her at this 
 point. Whether this was dream or miracle, she de- 
 termined to see it through. 
 
 "Send me back?" she said. "No, indeed you 
 shan't ! I've always longed to see the front. They 
 won't let me in real life, and now you're trying to 
 spoil it in a dream. If you only knew how I've 
 tried to get leave to come over ! It's too absolutely 
 divine for anything I wouldn't miss it for worlds. 
 And I'm sure you'll be very kind and show me round, 
 Mr. . . ." 
 
 " 'Iggins Private Alfred 'Iggins, 5th Middle- 
 sex Fusiliers. An' this is me pal, Private Grant." 
 
 " Pleasetermeacher! " mumbled Bill, saluting. 
 
 "Well, you will, won't you?" Isobel smiled at 
 them suddenly and beseechingly. Alf capitulated. 
 
 " 'Appy to, miss," replied the infatuated youth. 
 " What is it you wants to see? " 
 
 " Everything. I want to see just how you live 
 and what you do. I want to see a shell burst, and 
 oh, everything."
 
 ISOBEL'S "DREAM" 71 
 
 " Better not bother with shells, miss," said Bill 
 grimly; " one might 'it you." 
 
 "Oh, but that doesn't matter in a dream! Is 
 this the way up? " 
 
 She climbed up the steep and difficult staircase, 
 gallantly assisted by Alf. Bill followed gloomily, 
 his mind busy with wondering first what would hap- 
 pen if a stray long-distance shell did injure Isobel, 
 and second what Sergeant Lees or any of his supe- 
 riors would say if he saw them. 
 
 The same thought struck Alf as they reached the 
 trench above. 
 
 " Company 'Edquarters is up there," he said, with 
 a jerk of the thumb. " We'd best go the other 
 way." 
 
 Isobel, making shameless play with her eyes, laid 
 a hand for one moment on Alf's arm. 
 
 " What is a Company Headquarters? " she asked. 
 " I want to see it." 
 
 A subtle, faint perfume reached Alf's nostrils and 
 thrilled him all through. Now that she was in the 
 full light of day, he could take in her exquisite 
 quality. Her clothes, though obviously expensive, 
 were too plain to suit Bill's untutored eye, but Alf, 
 possessing by some queer freak of nature an unex- 
 pectedly true taste, saw in her the apotheosis of all 
 that was most admirable in women. By all the 
 laws of probability his tastes should have been for 
 bright colors and nodding feathers, but such decora-
 
 72 ALPS BUTTON 
 
 tions left him cold, while this girl struck him dumb. 
 She was simply the embodiment of his ideal. 
 
 " Now I'm here," she went on, " I want to see 
 for myself just what you poor men have to put up 
 with. How awful it must be to live in a trench like 
 this. And can't you show me a German? " 
 
 She smiled up into Alf's face. 
 
 That smile galvanized him as before, into a dis- 
 play of rash gallantry. 
 
 "'So you shall, miss," he said. " Just step along 
 the trench 'ere, and we'll show you all we can." 
 
 Isobel surveyed the trench doubtfully and then 
 looked down at her delicately shod feet. 
 
 " Couldn't we walk along the top?" she asked. 
 " It all seems so quiet and peaceful surely there'd 
 be no danger. We must be a long way from the 
 Germans, aren't we?" 
 
 " It's not Fritz, miss," interposed Bill earnestly. 
 " It's our sergeant. 'E mustn't see us with you. 
 A fair terror, 'e is." 
 
 " Oh," said Isobel easily, feeling that she could 
 deal with these dream-people of hers as she pleased. 
 " I'll see you don't get into trouble. This is such 
 an opportunity I mustn't waste it ... here's a 
 flight of steps, if you'll give me your hand again 
 and. . . ." 
 
 She reached the top and her voice ceased as sud- 
 denly and uncannily as a voice ceases when it is cut 
 off in the middle of a word on the telephone. She 
 stood staring dumbly across the old No-Man's-
 
 ISOBEL'S "DREAM" 73 
 
 Land, making in her dainty furs the strangest pic- 
 ture that battle-scarred strip of land had seen. Alf 
 and Bill, one on each side of her, gazed, too. 
 
 " There ain't much to see 'ere, I'm afraid, miss," 
 said the latter apologetically. According to his 
 lights, Bill spoke the truth. To his accustomed eyes 
 there was nothing to be seen worthy of special men- 
 tion; but to Isobel pitch- forked straight from her 
 sheltered, mindless life into the very heart of the 
 battle area it was far otherwise. 
 
 Her first feeling was that her dream had suddenly 
 turned to horrible nightmare. Surely nothing but 
 distorted fancy could have produced the scene before 
 her eyes ! It was as though the earth had been some 
 stricken monster, which had stiffened into death in 
 the very midst of the maddened writhings of its last 
 agony. For the most part it was a land without 
 landmarks a land featureless, but torn and tor- 
 tured, poisoned and pulverized, where the eye could 
 find no certain resting-place and the mind no relief. 
 On every side lay the same desolate waste, pock- 
 marked with shell-holes, each of which was half 
 filled with stagnant and stinking water, on the sur- 
 face of which was an oozing and fetid scum. Here 
 and there the ragged remains of a barbed-wire en- 
 tanglement stood out above the general welter; here 
 and there but very rarely a few scattered 
 stones indicated where once had stood a cottage; 
 here and there fluttered decayed rags of blue or 
 khaki or field-gray. . . . Cartridge-cases, bits of
 
 74 ALPS BUTTON 
 
 equipment, bully-beef tins all kinds of abandoned 
 rubbish were scattered about. 
 
 On the right ran the main road the one feature 
 of the whole pitiful panorama which still retained 
 some individuality. Once it had been famous for its 
 avenue of tall trees. Those trees still flanked the 
 roadway, but now the tallest of them was a ravaged 
 stump standing a bare four feet above the ground, 
 and the same gun-fire that had smitten them down 
 had smashed the road itself into a sickly yellow 
 pulp. 
 
 Once, no doubt, the road had run between fields 
 green with grass or young corn; but now it seemed 
 to Isobel beyond imagining that life could ever again 
 come near to it. Even the vilest weed might shud- 
 der to grow on earth's dead body, mangled and cor- 
 rupted and shamefully exposed. . . . 
 
 Alf's voice broke the silence. 
 
 " It's a bit dull 'ere, miss," he said, with cheerful 
 bathos. " There ain't much to show yer. But see 
 yon mound over there on the left? That was a 
 church once, that was. But you can 'unt all day and 
 never find nothing of the buildin', all except the 
 church bell; on'y it's too far to walk in them 
 boots. One of our C.T.'s communication 
 trenches, I should say runs right underneath it." 
 
 Isobel gave no answer, unless a sound something 
 between a gulp and a sob can be so described. 
 Depths seemed to be stirring in her nature that she 
 had not hitherto been conscious of possessing. She
 
 ISOBEL'S "DREAM" 75 
 
 felt mean and small and bitterly humbled. She had 
 desired to see the front out of mere heedless curios- 
 ity, as a child might wish to visit a slaughter-house. 
 She had had her desire, and her eyes had seen unim- 
 aginable horrors horrors which had become so 
 much a commonplace to the men who passed their 
 lives in this shambles that they apologized for its 
 lack of greater horrors. Compared with what they 
 had seen, there was " nothing much " here for her 
 curious eye. Only a strip of ground fought over 
 a month before its dead buried, its wounded car- 
 ried away to a smiling land where such as she were 
 flattered and praised in the public press because out 
 of their useless lives they deigned to devote an oc- 
 casional hour to those same wounded. 
 
 A sudden horror came over her lest she should see 
 a dead man. She covered her eyes with her hands 
 and gave a convulsive shudder. 
 
 " Don't don't take me over there! " she said, 
 and climbed down the steps again into the trench. 
 
 Bill and Alf, much concerned to understand what 
 could possibly have upset their visitor, were on the 
 point of following, when there was a sound of 
 squelching mud, and a figure appeared round the 
 angle of the trench. 
 
 " Lumme ! " said Bill's voice in an appalled whis- 
 per. "The orficer!" With one accord the two 
 Tommies turned and fled as their platoon, com- 
 mander approached. 
 
 Lieutenant Allen had been tramping about all the
 
 76 ALF'S BUTTON 
 
 afternoon, reconnoitering the approaches to the 
 front line in case of trouble. Muddy and hungry 
 and dog-tired, he was now plodding mechanically 
 back to his hole in the ground, while his thoughts 
 wandered vaguely and wistfully to home and his peo- 
 ple and Isobel. At the sound of Bill's whisper 
 he looked up and stopped dead. Clearly his nerves 
 must be beginning to give way, for he seemed to see 
 the subject of his thoughts standing before him in 
 the trench. 
 
 " My God ! " he exclaimed " Isobel ! " 
 
 She stared at the muddy figure before her for a 
 long moment. Then recognition dawned slowly in 
 her eyes. 
 
 " You ! " she said at last, and her voice seemed 
 to Allen to hold in it all that he most longed for in,, 
 the world. 
 
 " Isobel! am I mad or dreaming? " 
 
 " Oh," she cried, with a sob " it's a dream. It 
 must be a dream. If it isn't, I can't bear it. It's 
 too awful." 
 
 The sight of a face she knew had added to the 
 scene the last touch of horror for her. She stood 
 there, the tears glistening in her eyes, passionately 
 pitiful, passionately lovely. The pretty fool of The 
 Taller pictures had ceased to be, and this glorious 
 woman had risen like the phoenix from her ashes. 
 Denis held his breath for fear his vision would 
 fade. . . . 
 
 Meanwhile, the two Tommies had regained the
 
 ISOBEL'S "DREAM" 77 
 
 shelter of their dug-out with more speed than grace. 
 
 " Quick ! " said Bill, in a trembling voice. 
 " 'Urry up, or she'll give us away, for sure. What 
 a mug you was to tell 'er our names." 
 
 With a feverish hand, Alf rubbed the But- 
 ton. . . . 
 
 Denis Allen started and rubbed his eyes. 
 
 " Isobel ! " he said once more. But she was gone. 
 
 Denis leaned against the side of the trench for 
 support. His heart was thumping against his ribs, 
 and his throat had a strained, parched feeling. He 
 was very badly scared. 
 
 Strange things do happen to men at the front; 
 small hallucinations, induced by the ceaseless strain 
 on the nerves and senses, are of common occurrence. 
 The eyes play queer tricks sometimes on sentry-go, 
 so that a tuft of grass becomes a lurking sniper. 
 Allen himself could remember one occasion when he 
 had actually seen German infantry advancing 
 stealthily to the attack, and had given the alarm; 
 only to be severely told off by an irate Company 
 Commander for having interrupted his evening meal 
 for nothing. 
 
 But this was different. This way madness lay. 
 He had not known that his nerves had reached this 
 state ; he must pull himself together, get back at once 
 to his dug-out and sleep. If he climbed out of the 
 trench and went across the open, he 'would cut off 
 a big corner; accordingly he did so. Just at this
 
 78 ALPS BUTTON 
 
 moment a German battery saw fit to drop a long- 
 range shell at a venture into the British rear lines. 
 It exploded only a few yards from Denis. He felt 
 a tremendous thump in the chest, and rolled over, 
 coughing and fighting for breath. Then a black 
 curtain seemed to shut down over his eyes, and for 
 a few moments he lost consciousness. Then he was 
 hazily aware of voices, and a hand loosening his 
 collar, fiddling about with his shirt and finally ap- 
 plying a field-dressing to a wound high up in his 
 chest. He moved convulsively. 
 
 " Lie still, sir," said a voice. " It's Private 
 Tggins, sir. Private Grant's gone for stretcher- 
 bearers. You'll be all right, sir it's only a little 
 'ole. Just lie still." 
 
 By the time the stretcher arrived he had more or 
 less come to himself. He could see once more, and 
 he was conscious only of two things, namely, that his 
 feet were horribly, cruelly cold, and that he was 
 done with the front for a time. Slowly and gently 
 he was carried across the rough ground to the bat- 
 talion aid-post, where the Battalion M.O. received 
 him. 
 
 " Hullo, Sniggles ! " said Denis weakly. 
 
 " Well, young man," answered Sniggles, en- 
 thusiastically cutting all Denis's expensive clothing 
 to pieces with a large pair of shears. " Let's see 
 what they've done to you. Ah! " 
 
 He removed the bandage. Denis listened for his 
 verdict, in dread lest his wound should be serious
 
 ISOBEL'S "DREAM" 79 
 
 enough to be fatal, or not serious enough to give him 
 his heart's desire. 
 
 " Shall I be all right? " he asked at last. 
 
 " Think so, old man." 
 
 " Good. Is it a Blighty one all right? " 
 
 " Sniggles " smiled at the eagerness in his tone. 
 
 "A Blighty one? I should think it is. A long 
 holiday from the Army for you, my lad." 
 
 Denis gave one grin of pure happiness, and then 
 the haziness came over him again. He lay for some 
 time waiting for the ambulance. Occasionally a 
 dim form bent over him; once he heard the colonel's 
 voice speaking his name. For a second or two his 
 brain cleared, and he understood a word or two. 
 
 ". . . sorry to lose him, but he's earned a 
 rest. . . ." 
 
 Next, he felt himself lifted and placed, still on 
 his stretcher, in a motor-ambulance. Most of the 
 officers seemed to be standing about, to see him off. 
 There was a chorus of " Good-by, old man and 
 good luck! " He gave a feeble smile in return, and 
 then his journey began.
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 
 EUSTACE ORDERS A BATH 
 
 ALL next day Bill Grant was conscious that Alf 
 was not his usual self. He seemed strangely 
 preoccupied and absent-minded; and when even din- 
 ner-time failed to arouse him, Bill became seriously 
 alarmed. 
 
 As soon as the midday meal was done the two 
 men sought their private retreat. They lit their 
 pipes and smoked for some time in a silence, broken 
 at last by a heavy sigh from Alf. 
 
 " What's up with yer? " demanded Bill suddenly. 
 " Is it yer stummick? " . 
 
 " I'm all right," answered Alf in a voice of hope- 
 less dejection. 
 
 There was another long silence, once more termi- 
 nating in a sigh. 
 
 " Look 'ere," said Bill, getting up in disgust, " if 
 you feel as bad as all that, for 'eving's sake 'ave a 
 good cry and get it over, an' let's 'ave the old 'ome 
 'appy once again. What the 'ell's up? " 
 
 Alf did not answer this question, except by asking 
 another. 
 
 " Bill," he asked with a forced lightness of tone 
 which quite failed to conceal the earnestness it cov- 
 
 80
 
 EUSTACE ORDERS A BATH 81 
 
 ered. " What did yer think of Eustace's taste in 
 females? " 
 
 Bill turned and looked at him with a suddenly com- 
 prehending eye. Alf wriggled uneasily under his 
 gaze. 
 
 "So that's it, is it?" commented Bill. "Poor 
 old Alf! " He gave a long whistle. 
 
 " What'd you think of of 'er, Bill?" 
 
 " Well," was the honest reply, " that kind o' fine 
 lady ain't my style at all. I like a girl as can back- 
 answer yer a bit. But she was a reg'lar daisy for 
 looks." 
 
 Alf heaved another tremendous sigh. 
 
 "Gawd!" he exclaimed. "I can't 'elp thinkin' 
 'ow awful it'd 'ave been if that shell as 'it Mr. Allen 
 'ad come over a bit sooner an' done ' er in ! " 
 
 He fell silent, lost in contemplation of this terrible 
 idea. Bill was thinking deeply. He fixed a far- 
 away gaze on Alf, reducing that warrior, very self- 
 conscious in the unaccustomed role of love-sick swain, 
 to the last pitch of embarrassment. When at last 
 Bill came back to earth his words were startling in 
 the extreme. 
 
 " Well," he said casually. " If that's 'ow you 
 feel, why don't you marry the girl? " 
 
 "What? . . . Me? . . . Marry 'oo?" 
 
 " Eustace's female, whatever 'er name is." 
 
 " You're barmy ! Might as well tell me to marry 
 a royal princess straight orf." 
 
 " Well, an' why not, if you want to? " Bill was
 
 82 ALFS BUTTON 
 
 quite unmoved. " Eustace fixed it up for Aladdin 
 - why not for Alf 'Iggins? " 
 
 "Yes, but Aladdin, 'e was a prince 'isself." 
 
 " Not to start with 'e wasn't, an' if you married a 
 princess you'd be a prince, too. Prince 'Iggins 
 it'd look fine on a brass plate. Now look 'ere, Alf, 
 my lad, yer just wastin' yer time. You don't seem 
 to 'ave no idea what a lot you could do with Eustace. 
 If / 'ad a pet spook I'd use 'im a sight better'n what 
 you do. Why don't you stop the blinkin' war ? Get 
 Kaiser Bill over 'ere, and . . ." 
 
 " Once an' for all," interposed Alf with firmness, 
 " I ain't goin' to mix meself up in nothing o' that 
 sort. I knows enough to keep clear o' what's too 
 'igh for me. I'm a plain man, I am. Besides, Eus- 
 tace ain't to be trusted. 'E'd be sure to make a 
 muck of it an' get me into trouble some'ow." 
 
 Bill abandoned this topic for the time being with 
 reluctance; the idea of kidnaping the Kaiser was 
 the cherished child of his brain. But he knew that 
 Alf when obstinate was quite impervious to argu- 
 ment; he therefore returned to the original question. 
 
 " Any'ow," he said. " If you want to marry that 
 girl, Eustace'll manage it for yer. It was 'is job in 
 peace-time 'e'll thank yer for a chance to get back 
 to it. As I says, Aladdin married a princess, an' 'e 
 wasn't no great specimen of a man any more'n what 
 you are. I remember 'is mother was a washer- 
 woman by the name o' Twankey, in the pantomime." 
 
 " Really? " asked Alf with sudden interest.
 
 EUSTACE ORDERS A BATH 83 
 
 " Why. my good ole mother takes in washin', too." 
 
 He seemed much cheered by this striking similar- 
 ity between himself and hi& prototype. For the first 
 time he seemed to realize that Bill's suggestion might 
 be something more than idle verbiage. 
 
 " S'posin' you was me, then," he asked. * 'Ow'd 
 you set about the business? I ain't got no idea of 
 this 'ere game." 
 
 " Well, I ain't exactly thought it out meself, but 
 the first thing to do's to get back to Blighty." 
 
 " That does me in for a start," said Alf hope- 
 lessly. 
 
 " Not a bit. What about our month's re-engage- 
 ment leave? It's five years next month since you an' 
 me joined the Terriers, an' the Captain says Vs 
 applied for it, an* we'll get it in time. May be a 
 month or two late, but we'll get it all right. Tell 
 yer what I'll do, though. There's a ole lady in 
 Blighty what sends me books an' papers an' things. 
 I'll get 'er to send me the book about Aladdin, an' 
 we'll see 'ow 'e worked the trick. P'raps we'll pick 
 up a 'int or two that way. But you trust to Eustace 
 an' me. We'll put it all right for you, as soon as we 
 get our leave." 
 
 Accordingly a letter to the old lady in Blighty 
 was composed and dispatched that same afternoon. 
 
 The glittering prospect before him filled Alf with 
 as much apprehension as elation. The passion in- 
 spired in him by Isobel was <a desire of the moth 
 for the star a distant worship of a goddess who
 
 84 ALF'S BUTTON 
 
 had vouchsafed him one brief vision of her beauty 
 and had then vanished beyond his ken forever. 
 But Bill's practical common sense had changed all 
 that. Alf found himself called upon to readjust 
 his mental horizon, and to gaze upon a new prospect 
 in which his goddess appeared suddenly changed to 
 mortal form and proportions. 
 
 He could not accustom himself all at once to the 
 new conditions. He felt sure that there must be 
 " a catch " in the idea somewhere. 
 
 " Look 'ere," he said, after profound cogitation. 
 " D'you mean to tell me as anything that Eustace 
 can do'll make 'er walk out with me?" 
 
 "'Course I do," said Bill confidently. "Look 
 'ere, now; s'pose you go to 'er an' say, ' I'm a mil- 
 lionaire, an' I've got palaces an' jools, an' 'orses, 
 an' oh, everything I want ' d'yer think any 
 female's goin' to refuse all that, if you was as ugly 
 as sin? Not on yer life. She'll eat out of yer 
 'and, you'll see." 
 
 But Bill Grant's cynicism failed to convince Alf, 
 who shook his head despondently. Then, with 
 characteristic philosophy, since none of these strange 
 and wonderful things could begin to happen to him 
 until his month's leave (itself only a happy possibil- 
 ity) came through, he dismissed the whole affair 
 from his mind for the time being. 
 
 The battalion finished its turn in the trenches with- 
 out further casualties, and once more prepared to 
 move back to rest billets. The future was uncer-
 
 EUSTACE ORDERS A BATH 85 
 
 tain; but it did not seem likely that this respite would 
 be of long duration. The battle of Arras had be- 
 gun, and all along the line there was work to be 
 done. At any moment the division might be called 
 upon to trek to the Arras district, or to fill some 
 unexpected gap elsewhere; so Colonel Enderby, on 
 the day before the 5th Battalion marched out, sent 
 a certain Sergeant Oliver before them with orders 
 to make arrangements whereby his battalion on leav- 
 ing the line might lose no time in making itself clean 
 and tidy once more. To put it more simply, he told 
 him to rig up some baths. 
 
 In " C " Company Lieutenant Allen's disappear- 
 ance had caused few actual changes, although Cap- 
 tain Richards missed his cheery help and sound judg- 
 ment at every turn. No officer had appeared from 
 England as yet to fill his place, and No. 9 Platoon 
 was now under the sole charge of Sergeant Lees, 
 who ruled it with a rod of iron. 
 
 On the morning of the move the autocrat was in 
 high good humor. 
 
 " Pack yer traps up, boys," he said. " It's 
 good-by to the line to-day. Please 'Eaven, you'll 
 all get a 'ot bath to-morrow." 
 
 " 'Ear that, Bill? " asked Alf in delight. " I'm 
 just about fed up with the line. Think o' gettin' 
 into a billet again! " 
 
 " Umph," said Bill. " We won't be any better 
 orf in a billet than in our dug-out, anyway. On'y 
 thing / wanter get back for is to 'ave something to
 
 86 ALPS BUTTON 
 
 drink, since you're so mean with Eustace. If / 'ad 
 a pet spook I wouldn't be that way, I can tell yer." 
 
 " I can't 'elp it," s>aid Alf, resenting the imputation 
 of meanness, but adamantine in his determination 
 not to risk Eustace's displeasure again. 
 
 " Huh! " said Bill. There was a world of mean- 
 ing in this monosyllable, and none of it was compli- 
 mentary to Alf. 
 
 The 5th Battalion was far enough back from the 
 front line to be safely relieved by daylight. In con- 
 sequence, the relieving battalion arrived up to time, 
 and Alf and Bill were well on their way by eleven 
 o'clock. So long as it was in the shelled area, the 
 battalion marched by platoons, with a space of about 
 a hundred yards between each body and the next. 
 Once the danger limit was passed, however, it was 
 closed up again for economy of road space. 
 
 At about four-thirty in the afternoon, worn and 
 weary, the men approached a pleasant village and 
 sighed contentedly to see a little group of four khaki 
 figures awaiting them. These were the company 
 quartermaster-sergeants, whose job is to look after 
 the feeding of their companies at all times and their 
 housing when out of the line. " Quarters " is by 
 training an autocrat and by hereditary reputation a 
 scoundrel, but when he is seen waiting to show his 
 men into its happy but temporary homes at the end 
 of a long march, he is the most popular man in the 
 company. 
 
 As Captain Richards rode in at the head of his
 
 EUSTACE ORDERS A BATH 87 
 
 cohort, C.Q.M.S. Piper came up and explained to 
 him what splendid billets he had secured, what 
 enormous trouble he had had to secure any billets 
 at all, and how well his own compared with those of 
 the other companies. Along the road, the other 
 C.Q.M.S.'s might have been seen, each giving his 
 own company commander precisely similar informa- 
 tion. Each platoon was then settled into its par- 
 ticular mud barn by its own officer, while little Shaw, 
 as subaltern of the day (otherwise known as Orderly 
 Dog), bustled round to the traveling cookers to 
 ascertain from the sergeant cook how soon a hot 
 meal would be forthcoming. 
 
 When this repast was over Alf and Bill found 
 themselves told off as units in a blanket-carrying 
 party, after which they turned in and slept the sleep 
 of the thoroughly unjust for about twelve hours. 
 
 Next morning, after breakfast, Captain Richards 
 paraded his company, and as usual after coming out 
 of the line, lectured them on their appearance. 
 
 " However," he concluded, " you'll have no ex- 
 cuse if you turn up to-morrow dirty. Sergeant 
 Oliver has got some baths going in the back yard of 
 the ' Rayon d'Or ' in Aberfeldy Street; and you'll go 
 down there by sections, beginning at ten o'clock. 
 And I'll hold a dam' strict inspection at half-past 
 three so look out ! " 
 
 In due course, Corporal Greenstock paraded his 
 section, containing Privates Higgins and Grant, and 
 marched it down Dunoon Street, through Piccadilly
 
 88 ALPS BUTTON 
 
 Circus into Aberfeldy Street. There in a cloud of 
 steam they found Sergeant Oliver, whose military 
 career at the front was divided between improvising 
 baths for the battalion when it came out of the line, 
 and supplying facilities for the drying of socks when 
 in it. The bath on this occasion was an enormous 
 wooden tub, capable of holding four men at a time. 
 The sergeant and his satellites were busy keeping a 
 veritable furnace going beneath a boiler which sev- 
 eral gloomy defaulters constantly refilled from a well 
 nearby. One clean 'fill of water was the allowance 
 for each section, and by the time the water was 
 emptied out it had become only less thick than the 
 mud of the trenches they had just left. 
 
 The whole arrangement 'reflected the greatest 
 credit on Sergeant Oliver, considering that when he 
 had arrived at the " Rayon d'Or " neither tub nor 
 boiler had been there. Whence and by whose per- 
 mission they had been procured were questions which 
 the colonel had carefully refrained from asking. 
 But the sybaritic soul of Bill Grant clamored for 
 something better still. He drew Alf on one side 
 and whispered. Alf shook his head. Bill became 
 more earnest; Higgins hesitated and was lost. 
 Both men slipped quietly out of the bath-house while 
 Corporal Greenstock, taking the best of the water 
 by right of seniority, was performing his ablutions. 
 
 It was a very quiet village, sparsely inhabited. 
 Alf and Bill soon found a large farmyard in which, 
 remote from public view, stood a dilapidated barn.
 
 EUSTACE ORDERS A BATH 89 
 
 " This'll do fine! " said Bill. " There's nobody 
 living in the 'ouse we'll be as safe as the Pay 
 Corps 'ere." 
 
 "I don't know," objected Alf. " Wnat about 
 that 'aystack in the loft? That must belong to some 
 one." 
 
 " Well, '-ooever it belongs to, they don't live 'ere, 
 an' we can keep a look-out in case any one comes. 
 Go on, ring up ole Eustace. You won't find a better 
 place." 
 
 Alf rubbed his Button. 
 
 "See that barn, Eustace?" he asked, before the 
 djinn had time to begin his usual formula. ' Well, 
 put us a real nice bath inside it." 
 
 " O Master, behold, it is done! " 
 
 Eustace vanished, looking pleased. " Real nice 
 baths " were entirely in accordance with the Aladdin 
 tradition. 
 
 The two Tommies turned towards the barn, and 
 stood lost in amazement. The building was out- 
 wardly as dilapidated as before, but inside it was all 
 light and color and perfumed magnificence. Marble 
 pillars veiled by silken hangings stood just inside the 
 broken mud walls, and through the hangings could 
 be seen just so much as to hint at further splendors 
 beyond. 
 
 " Lumme! " said Alf, as soon as he could speak. 
 "Why is 'e always so blinkin' 'olesale? 'E'll be 
 givin' the 'ole show away, one o' these days. What's 
 to be done now, Bill? 'Ave 'im come back again an'
 
 90 ALPS BUTTON 
 
 make 'im clear away the 'ole caboodle, I s'pose?" 
 
 " I s'pose so," said Bill reluctantly. " I s'pose 
 so. Seems a pity, but . . . 'ullo ! " 
 
 He broke off. 
 
 The silken hangings had been suddenly drawn 
 back by two enormous negroes, clad in sumptuous 
 and glittering uniforms; a spacious hall was thus 
 revealed, in which a crowd of beautiful female slaves 
 in marvelous though rather scanty oriental draperies 
 was waiting. 
 
 "Goo' Lord! The 'Ippodrome Chorus!" said 
 Grant in an awed voice, his protests forgotten. The 
 most beautiful of the slaves came forward, and 
 paused just inside the pillared entrance, a smile of 
 invitation upon her lips. 
 
 " 'Ere," said Bill. " This is goin' to be a bit of 
 all right. We mustn't miss this. One of us'll 'ave 
 to keep guard while the other 'as 'is bath. Toss for 
 'oo goes first, see? You call! " 
 
 " 'Eads," said Alf. 
 
 " Tails it is," replied Bill with great satisfaction. 
 " I'm goin' to bath first. 'Arf an hour each, see? " 
 
 He entered the building, and the slaves clustered 
 about him. Then the negroes drew the curtains, 
 and Alf saw him no more. 
 
 Bill, highly gratified by his reception, was led 
 through the entrance hall into another lofty chamber, 
 wonderfully built of different-colored marbles. 
 From one end of this chamber came the pleasant 
 sound of running water, where a little fountain
 
 EUSTACE ORDERS A BATH 91 
 
 flowed into a bath sunk into the floor, and entered 
 by a flight of marble steps. By some invisible de- 
 vice sufficient water was allowed to flow out to keep 
 the bath always full to a uniform depth. From it 
 arose a faint cloud of steam, fragrant and scented. 
 
 The leader of the slaves led Bill to a divan and 
 bowed profoundly. 
 
 " Thank you, my dear," said Bill. " This'll do 
 me a treat. Now, if you'll just take yer friends 
 away and wait outside, I'll be with yer in 'arf a 
 tick." 
 
 But the lady seemed neither to understand him 
 nor to have any intention of going. She signed to 
 two of her following, who came forward and un- 
 laced Grant's boots. She herself began daintily to 
 unbutton his tunic. 
 
 This was too much for the scandalized Bill. 
 
 " 'Ere," he said, leaping suddenly to his feet. 
 " This 'as gone far enough. None of yer disre- 
 spectable foreign ways for me ! Why, I've never 
 been washed by a female since my old mother used 
 to give me a bath when I was a nipper ! 'Ere, 'op 
 it skedaddle ! " 
 
 Bill's remarks were not understood, but his ges- 
 ture of dismissal was unmistakable. The slaves 
 made each a low obeisance and retired; the face of 
 the leader wore so obvious an air of pained as- 
 tonishment that Bill felt he owed her some kind of 
 reparation. 
 
 " It's all right, Alice," he called. " Wait out-
 
 92 ALF'S BUTTON 
 
 side for me, an' I'll let yer brush me 'air arter- 
 wards." 
 
 Left alone, Bill undressed; he examined with pro- 
 found suspicion the silver bowls of rich unguents 
 which stood at one end of the bath; and then, ex- 
 tracting from his tunic-pocket a weary-looking cake 
 of soap, he plunged into the water and prepared to 
 give himself up to the enjoyment of the most luxuri- 
 ous moment that life had yet afforded him. 
 
 Meanwhile Alf, keeping watch outside, had be- 
 gun to find time hang heavy on his hands. The 
 farmyard was utterly deserted only in the build- 
 ing into which he had seen Bill disappear was there 
 any sign of life. He lounged into the road, cursing 
 the fate which had given Bill the first choice, and 
 wondering whether after all the chance of discovery 
 was great enough to make his lonely vigil worth 
 while. He debated this point for some time, and 
 had almost made up his mind to chance it and join 
 Bill forthwith, when he heard his name called. 
 
 "'Ere! Tggins!" 
 
 He looked up the road apprehensively. Two 
 men of his own section had turned a corner and 
 were bearing down upon him. Panic-stricken, he 
 dashed into the farmyard and shouted for Bill. 
 There was no response. Feverishly he felt for his 
 Button and rubbed it. 
 
 " Eustace," he said in a trembling voice, " cart 
 all that away quick ! An' then 'op it yerself. 
 Look slippy! "
 
 EUSTACE ORDERS A BATH 93 
 
 Bill Grant had just felt the warm, soft water close 
 over his body had just begun to realize a delicious 
 sense of lightness and rest which pervaded his whole 
 frame when everything about him seemed to fade 
 into smoke and disappear. The marble bath, the 
 stately hall, the water, the silken hangings, all van- 
 ished in a flash, and he found himself, naked and 
 cold, lying on the cobbled floor of an exceedingly 
 well-ventilated French barn. Worst of all, his 
 clothes had disappeared with the rest. 
 
 Outside in the yard he could see Alf signing to 
 him in the greatest agitation; he made a dash for the 
 haystack in the loft, and had just reached its sanc- 
 tuary when he heard voices below him. Peeping 
 through a crack in the loft floor he could see Den- 
 ham and Walls, the two privates whose untimely ap- 
 pearance had upset Alf so completely. 
 
 " Corp'ril sent us for yer, Alf," explained Walls. 
 " Says we got to bring yer back under escort for 
 bilkin' yer bath." 
 
 " He also wished us to secure Grant," added 
 Private Denham, a youth who was cultivating a re- 
 fined accent with a view to subsequent application 
 for a commission. 
 
 " Well, 'e ain't 'ere, me lord," answered Alf 
 shortly. u I'll come right away. I was just comin', 
 any'ow." 
 
 Unaware of the tragic loss of Bill's clothes, Alf 
 was only anxious to get his captors away from the 
 spot and to give his pal a chance of appearing clothed
 
 94 ALPS BUTTON 
 
 again and in his right mind as soon as might be. 
 
 Bill heard their voices die away, and despairingly 
 reviewed his position. The hay, with which he was 
 obliged to cover himself for warmth, tickled his 
 bare body cruelly. He was too far from his billet 
 to think of trying to return there in his present con- 
 dition, even if modesty had allowed. His clothes 
 were irretrievably lost until Alf should come back 
 that way, bringing the Button. Until Higgins re- 
 alized that something was wrong and came in search 
 of him, Bill must remain an outcast, naked and 
 ashamed. He made himself a nest in the softest 
 part of the hay and settled himself down to wait. 
 
 After a time he dozed off; he was recalled to 
 himself by the sound of a footstep below. It paused 
 at the bottom of the ladder leading to the loft. 
 
 " Alf! " said Bill in a stage whisper. 
 
 " Qui va la? " answered a strange voice an old, 
 quavery voice, apparently female. Bill curled him- 
 self into his nest of hay and lay perfectly still. The 
 owner of the voice, having listened for some time, 
 apparently decided that Bill's greeting had been a 
 delusion of the senses and began painfully and 
 wheezily to climb the ladder. Through a layer of 
 hay, Bill's eye commanded the loft door. His 
 visitor was an elderly Frenchwoman with a pitch- 
 fork, evidently the owner of the hay. 
 
 She began to fork the hay down with surprising 
 vigor for one so frail. Bill lay close as a maggot 
 in a nut; but unfortunately, at her sixth prod, the
 
 EUSTACE ORDERS A BATH 95 
 
 old lady dug her weapon into one of the tenderest 
 parts of his undraped anatomy, and Bill sprang up 
 with an eldritch scream. Naked as he was, and 
 festooned and bristling with hay, he was a startling 
 apparition. The old Frenchwoman gave forth a 
 yell as if all the devils in hell were after her, and 
 clambered down the ladder with the speed of a 
 cat. By some miracle she preserved her footing till 
 she was halfway down the ladder; but then her feet 
 slipped and she shot ignominiously on to her own 
 hay. Bill thought for a moment that she had hurt 
 herself; but a second later he heard her wooden 
 shoes on the cobbles outside as she took to her heels 
 and ran for her life. 
 
 Bill, shivering, returned gloomily to his hay. The 
 fat was in the fire now, without a doubt. Even if 
 she did not inform the colonel, the old lady was 
 sure to alarm the villagers; and what they might do 
 to him Bill hardly dared imagine. He lay shivering 
 with cold and fright. After a time he seemed to 
 hear stealthy footsteps. He determined that his 
 only chance was to give himself up and throw him- 
 self on the mercy of his captors. He stood up, and 
 shook himself free of the hay. 
 
 A voice below spoke Alf's voice. 
 
 "Bill!" it said. 
 
 Half an hour later Bill stood before Sergeant 
 Lees. 
 
 " Ho," said that autocrat. " 'Ere you are.
 
 96 ALPS BUTTON 
 
 Bilked yer bath, you 'ave, so I 'ear, an' missed the 
 Captain's inspection; an' the British soldier's first 
 dooty is to be clean." 
 
 " I got a better bath in the village, sergeant. 
 Didn't think you'd mind," said Bill desperately. 
 
 " Ho, did yer? Don't seem to 'ave done yer 
 much good. 'Ave yer seen yerself ? " 
 
 The sergeant handed him a shaving-mirror. 
 Grant studied his features in silence. His adven- 
 tures in the hay had completely destroyed the effects 
 of his bath. His face was streaked and mottled 
 with black dust till he looked like a dissipated nig- 
 ger. 
 
 " No, my lad," said the sergeant grimly. ' That 
 yarn's like you it don't wash. You'll report to 
 Sergeant Oliver to-morrer an' act as bath-orderly 
 for the rest o' the week."
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 
 BLIGHTY FOR TWO 
 
 GRANT'S appointment to the menial position of 
 bath-orderly plunged him into a state of sav- 
 age gloom. His duties were arduous and his hours 
 long; and as he spent even his free time in morose 
 silence, he soon made Alf as miserable as himself. 
 Gradually the week wore away until at last the sen- 
 tence was served, and Bill was once more a free 
 man. 
 
 But his punishment seemed to have soured his 
 whole outlook on life; even now he continued sul- 
 lenly aloof till at last even the easy-going Alf felt 
 himself constrained to remonstrate. 
 
 " Look 'ere, Bill," he said. " What's up? " 
 
 "Fed up!" growled Bill. 
 
 " Fed up? Well, o' course you're fed up. 
 Ain't we all fed up? But that ain't no reason for 
 goin' on like this. You might be a lot worse off. 
 'Ere we are, back from the line an' in billets in a 
 nice little village with shops an' estaminets an' ... 
 an' baths." 
 
 " If you wants one in the 'ear-'ole," said Bill, ris- 
 ing wrathfully, " you've on'y got to say ' bath ' to 
 me again. An' look 'ere, I never 'ad no use for 
 sermons any'ow. Get on to the 'ymn." 
 
 Q7
 
 98 ALPS BUTTON 
 
 Alf regarded him helplessly. Bill simply stared 
 straight before him with a queer glint in his eyes. 
 
 " Look 'ere," said Higgins at last, deciding to 
 stretch a point for the sake of a quiet life. " Shall 
 I get Eustace to fetch yer a pint? " 
 
 " No." 
 
 " It'd do yer good." 
 
 " No, I tell yer. Keep yer blinkin' Eustace an' 
 yer blinkin' beer, an' f'r 'Eaven's sake leave me 
 alone. I'm fed up with the 'ole boilin' of yer 
 sick of it. Sick o' the War, an' this ruddy country, 
 an' everything. I wants to get 'ome to Blighty, an', 
 oh Gawd! to think I'll 'ave to wait another two 
 months." 
 
 Alf was silent and sympathetic; he could remem- 
 ber times when he had been helpless in the grip of 
 just such a desperate angry longing to escape from 
 France and all that it stood for. An idea struck 
 him. 
 
 " Couldn't Eustace ... ? " he began. 
 
 " No. D'you think I 'aven't sense enough to 
 think o' that meself? This is one o' them times 
 when Eustace ain't no blinkin' use at all unless 
 you've got enough guts to send 'im over to get ole 
 Kaiser Bill 'ere, an . . ." 
 
 " Well, I won't," said Alf obstinately. " I told 
 you before. An' I don't see why Eustace can't take 
 you over to Blighty all right. 'E brought that 
 young lady over 'ere." 
 
 " Because," said Bill, with the air of one explain-
 
 BLIGHTY FOR TWO 99 
 
 ing truisms to a wrong-headed child, " if we asks 
 Eustace to take us 'ome, what 'appens? We're de- 
 serters. Sooner or later we'd get found out an' 
 shot. 'Tain't worth it. I should 'ave thought even 
 you could 'ave understood that." 
 
 With this Parthian shot he stalked heavily away, 
 leaving Alf disconsolate. But as soon as he was 
 alone he began to ponder Alf s scorned suggestion. 
 Was there not some way in which Eustace could be 
 employed to take Bill and Alf home for a space 
 without subjecting them to the risk of subsequent 
 execution? He turned the question over in his rest- 
 less mind, but in vain; and as a result his temper at 
 bed-time was even less equable than before. Alf 
 was glad to roll himself up in his blanket and go to 
 sleep. 
 
 But Bill could not sleep. Long after " lights 
 out," he lay awake, thinking and brooding over his 
 problem; and his longing for Blighty grew sharper 
 till it was almost more than he could bear. But he 
 knew that until he could find some way of circumvent- 
 ing his difficulties he must continue, like the cat in 
 the adage, to let " I dare not " wait upon " I 
 would." 
 
 At last, just as daylight began to appear, a new 
 idea struck him. It was a scheme of masterly sim- 
 plicity in which his tired brain could detect no flaw. 
 He leant over and shook the dimly visible form of 
 Alf, who woke in astonishment and was about to 
 give tongue when Bill's huge hand was clapped over
 
 ioo ALFS BUTTON 
 
 his mouth, and Bill's voice spoke fiercely in his ear. 
 
 "Quiet, you fool!" 
 
 ' Wasermarrer? " enquired Alf thickly, as soon 
 as the hand was removed. 
 
 " I got it! " whispered Bill triumphantly. 
 
 "Got what?" 
 
 " I knows 'ow we can work it." 
 
 There was a pause, as Alf allowed this to sink in. 
 " Work what? " he asked at last. 
 
 ' Wake up, you fat'ed, an' listen. It's a transfer 
 we want." 
 
 "A what?" 
 
 " A transfer! " 
 
 "Do we?" 
 
 Bill's overtried nerves snapped suddenly. 
 
 " If it wasn't for the row it'd make. I'd dot yer 
 one," he hissed fiercely. " 'Ere, put yer things on 
 quiet an' slip outside, an' I'll tell yer there." 
 
 A few moments later, in the dim first light of 
 dawn, Bill unfolded his scheme. 
 
 " If we tells Eustace to transfer us to the Reserve 
 Battalion 'ome in Blighty, that ain't desertion, be- 
 cause we'd still be soldierin', see. An' it's about 
 time you and me 'ad a little go o' soldierin' at 'ome, 
 for a change like. Oh, it's a real brainy notion, 
 Alf. Can't think why I never thought of it be- 
 fore." 
 
 Alf, still half-asleep, had only the vaguest con- 
 ception of the meaning of the magic word " trans- 
 fer " and still less of the formalities attaching
 
 BLIGHTY FOR TWO 101 
 
 thereto; but such was his trust in the acumen and 
 the military knowledge of his mate that he accepted 
 the statement without reserve. Acting under Bill's 
 instructions he rubbed his Button. Instantly Eus- 
 tace appeared with his usual formula. 
 
 " We want to be transferred," said Alf. " To 
 the Reserve Battalion in Blighty at once, please." 
 
 " Lord! " answered the djinn, " I hear and obey." 
 
 He advanced on the two privates who, expecting 
 to feel themselves borne with appalling swiftness 
 through the air, closed their eyes apprehensively; 
 but nothing seemed to happen, and they opened them 
 again. 
 
 " Lumme ! " said Alf in astonishment. " Good 
 ole Eustace ! " 
 
 The scene before them had changed with the sud- 
 denness of a cinematograph film. The dawn was 
 still just breaking, but instead of the cheerless plains 
 of France they saw the wooded hills and trim hedges 
 of an English landscape. They were standing on 
 a country road beside a camp of wooden huts. Not 
 far away the spire of a church and the chimneys of 
 a few houses rising above the drifting morning mist 
 showed where a village stood; and as they tried to 
 gather their wits together they heard a sound to 
 which their ears had long been strangers the dis- 
 tant rumble of an express train. 
 
 "Good ole Eustace an' good ole Blighty!" 
 said Bill softly. " Come on, Alf. There's a sentry 
 at the gate. We'll report to 'im."
 
 102 ALF'S BUTTON 
 
 The sentry at once handed them over to the 
 sergeant of the guard, who produced a piece of 
 paper and a stubby pencil. 
 
 " Nice time o' day to come in, I don't think," he 
 observed severely. " Overstayed yer week-end 
 leave, I s'pose. Where's your passes? " 
 
 " We 'aven't got no passes, sergeant. 
 We've . . ." 
 
 " Names, please," interrupted the catechist. 
 " 1287 'Iggins A. an' 2312 Grant W. Which com- 
 p'ny?" 
 
 " ' C ' Comp'ny, 5 th M.F., B.E.F." 
 
 " Yes, yes," said the sergeant with heavy sarcasm. 
 
 ' You can say yer alphabet arterwards. An' I don't 
 
 want yer past 'istory, neither. This ain't the B.E.F. 
 
 an' I want to know which comp'ny you belong to 
 
 'ere." 
 
 " We dunno, sergeant. We been transferred 
 from the B.E.F. an' we're just reportin'." 
 
 " What, at this time o' day, an' without any kit? 
 All right, you needn't trouble to tell me any more. 
 You tell it all to the C.O. when 'e sees you. 'E'll 
 'arf skin yer, I expect, for rollin' in at this time, 
 because the last train for 'ere gets in at eight o'clock 
 in the evening." 
 
 Alf and Bill sat in the guard-room, their first ela- 
 tion rather dashed. Once more things were turning 
 out unexpectedly difficult. They were indeed back 
 in Blighty, but were to be half-skinned as a result. 
 If on top of this Eustace managed to make any mis-
 
 BLIGHTY FOR TWO 103 
 
 take in the transfer, they might reasonably expect 
 to be completely flayed by the colonel, who had the 
 reputation (which had reached the brigade in 
 France by means of the drafts he sent out to it) of 
 being a fire-eater. Bill began to regret bitterly his 
 impulsiveness in leaving the technical details of his 
 scheme to Eustace; but he realized that it was now 
 too late to do anything. He and Alf would be kept 
 under strict surveillance until the time of their in- 
 terview with the C.O., and there would be no pos- 
 sible chance of summoning Eustace and ascertaining 
 just what he had done. 
 
 They decided to do nothing, and to hope for the 
 best. Even a guard-room in Blighty seemed to them 
 at that moment preferable to their billet in France. 
 
 Soon after breakfast the. hour for the inquisition 
 arrived and the two friends found themselves side 
 by side " on the mat " before the great man, who 
 was physically a very little man. Colonel Watts 
 was a " dug-out." Some time before the war broke 
 out he had retired from a very long and incredibly 
 undistinguished military career with the rank of 
 major, and had devoted himself to bullying his meek 
 wife and generally making her life a misery. When 
 the war began the gallant major, much to Mrs. 
 Watts' relief, applied for and obtained command 
 of a New Army battalion. Unfortunately, how- 
 ever, he managed to quarrel so violently with all his 
 immediate superiors and most of his colleagues that 
 the divisional general refused to take him to the
 
 104 ALPS BUTTON 
 
 front. Shortly before the division sailed for 
 France the little man returned raging to Tunbridge 
 Wells, discharged all his wife's servants, poisoned 
 her dog, and proceeded to vent all his accumulated 
 spleen on the poor lady herself. Eventually, only 
 just in time to save Mrs. Watts' sanity, he was of- 
 fered the command of the Territorial reserve bat- 
 talion of the Middlesex Fusiliers, a post which he 
 had held ever since. 
 
 He sat behind a very large table, with Captain 
 Sandeman, his adjutant, standing beside him. Alf 
 and Bill were marched in by the regimental sergeant- 
 major, an unctuous person very different from the 
 martinet who controlled the 5th Battalion at the 
 front. 
 
 " Private Higgins, sir, and Private Grant," he an- 
 nounced as who should say, "Mr. and Mrs. 
 Platt-Harcourt, my lady! " 
 
 " Higgins ! " repeated the Colonel, gazing fero- 
 ciously at Alf from under his beetling eyebrows. 
 "Higgins! Higgins!!" 
 
 "Yessir!" said Alf, thinking that confirmation 
 was being required. 
 
 "Be quiet!" roared Colonel Watts, with such 
 suddenness that Alf took a step backwards in alarm. 
 "And stand still!" 
 
 " Stand still, man, and only speak when you are 
 spoken to," said the oily voice of the R.S.M. in Alf's 
 ear. 
 
 The colonel fixed the unfortunate Alf with a pro-
 
 BLIGHTY FOR TWO 105 
 
 truding eye, and continued his baleful glare until his 
 victim was on the very verge of crying out. His 
 one idea seemed to be to intimidate Alf ; he paid no 
 attention whatever to Bill, who was standing stiffly 
 to attention, his eyes fixed in a lack-luster stare on 
 the wall above the adjutant's head. 
 
 "Well?" the C.O. ground out at last between 
 his teeth. The sergeant-major gave a consequential 
 little cough and signed to the sergeant of the guard 
 to give his evidence. 
 
 " These men arrived 'ere, sir, in the early hours 
 of this mornin', about four o'clock, and failed to 
 give any satisfactory account of themselves. They 
 'ad no kit, sir, an' no passes. They state that 
 they 'ave been transferred to us from the Expe- 
 ditionary Force, sir, but they 'ave no papers to 
 prove it." 
 
 "Good God!" shouted the colonel. "This is 
 disgraceful. More incompetence! If I've written 
 one letter complaining of this kind of thing I've writ- 
 ten a dozen. Men come here without papers, with- 
 out kit, without orders, and expect us to look after 
 'em. The Army in France is one mass of incom- 
 petent fools, in my opinion. It's a scandal, Sande- 
 man." 
 
 The adjutant said nothing. The C.O. hardly 
 seemed to expect him to, for he swept on without a 
 pause. 
 
 " If I'd my way, I'd scrap the whole lot of 'em, 
 and have a few men who know their jobs put in
 
 io6 ALPS BUTTON 
 
 instead. No papers, no nothing. Disgraceful! 
 Where's your kit, man? " 
 
 Alf, finding that this question also was addressed 
 to him, and having no reply ready, merely gaped. 
 
 " Speak up! " bawled the Colonel. 
 
 "L 1 lost it, sir." 
 
 The C.O. dashed his pen violently on to his desk, 
 where it stuck quivering on its point, turned round 
 in his chair and silently eyed his adjutant for ten 
 palpitating seconds. 
 
 " D'ye hear that, Sandeman? He's lost it. 
 Good God! What are we coming to? ... The 
 Government has fitted him out with a complete set 
 of kit and he's lost it ... and how," he vocifer- 
 ated, turning round once more with such unexpected 
 speed that Alf once more gave back a pace. " How 
 d'you mean to tell me you lost it, eh? " 
 
 But Alf's inventive powers were exhausted, and 
 Bill judged it time, at whatever risk to life and limb, 
 to take a speaking part in the little drama. 
 
 " Overboard, sir, in the Channel," he said, with- 
 out removing his eye from the wall. " Off of a 
 ship," he added as an afterthought, in order that 
 there should be no misunderstanding possible. 
 
 Colonel Watts appeared to regard this as the last 
 straw. For a moment he seemed unable to articu- 
 late at all, and the hue of his countenance deepened 
 through successive shades till it finally arrived at a 
 congested purple. He hammered on his desk with 
 his fist.
 
 BLIGHTY FOR TWO 107 
 
 " I will not have my valuable time wasted in this 
 way ! " he roared. " Bring these men before me to- 
 morrow, sergeant-major, and if I can't get a co- 
 herent account of them from some one, there'll be 
 trouble. Incompetent fools ! " 
 
 He puffed passionately out of the orderly-room 
 and slammed the door, leaving it uncertain whether 
 his last remark was addressed only to Alf and Bill, 
 or whether it was not rather intended to include the 
 adjutant, the R.S.M., the sergeant of the guard and 
 the impassive privates acting as prisoners' escort. 
 He was to be heard faintly outside in unkind criti- 
 cism of the sentry's method of presenting arms. 
 Then there was silence, and a general feeling as 
 though the sun had come out. 
 
 " Prisoners and escort," began the R.S.M. 
 "Right-TURN! Quick. . . ." 
 
 " Wait, sergeant-major," said Captain Sandeman 
 quietly. " I want to ask these men a question or 
 two. Send the escort off." 
 
 Bill's heart sank. Captain Sandeman had lost 
 the air of passive indifference which he wore as pro- 
 tective armor in the presence of Colonel Watts. He 
 looked horribly intelligent and wide-awake. 
 
 " Now, listen to me," he said. " I don't under- 
 stand your case at all. Are you rejoining from 
 hospital? " 
 
 " No, sir. From the front. Transferred, sir." 
 
 " But why? And where are your papers? " 
 
 u Didn't 'ave no papers, sir. We was just told
 
 io8 ALFS BUTTON 
 
 to report 'ere. The papers is comin' by post, I 
 think, sir." 
 
 " Um. Which is your battalion, and company? " 
 
 " The fifth, sir < C ' Comp'ny." 
 
 Bill was beginning to realize that Eustace had, in 
 his muddle-headed way, landed them in a very tight 
 corner. He would have lied had he dared; but he 
 knew that there must be scores of men serving now 
 with the Reserve who had known both himself and 
 Alf at the front. 
 
 " That's Captain Richards' company, isn't it? " 
 
 " Yessir. But the Captain went away on a course 
 yesterday, sir, and Lieutenant Donaldson is in com- 
 mand now." 
 
 " Yesterday? How d'you know that?" 
 
 Bill had seen his slip as soon as he made it. 
 
 " I 'eard 'e was goin' before I left, sir," he an- 
 swered readily. 
 
 " Um. And you don't know why you've been 
 sent back? " 
 
 " No, sir." 
 
 Captain Sandeman became suddenly stern. 
 
 " There is something very irregular about the 
 whole business," he said. " I don't see how you can 
 possibly have got across the Channel in any legiti- 
 mate way without papers. The whole thing looks 
 most fishy, and it seems to me that you two men are 
 asking for very serious trouble. Now, I warn you, 
 I give you an opportunity now of telling me all about 
 it; but if you persist in that story about being trans-
 
 BLIGHTY FOR TWO 109 
 
 ferred without any papers, I'll have to keep you 
 safe here till I can find out the truth from Mr. 
 Donaldson. Now, what have you to say?" 
 
 " Nothing, sir," said Bill quickly. For one mo- 
 ment he was afraid that Alf was going to lose his 
 head and tell the incredible truth; he shot a glance 
 of warning at his mate, who subsided; and the 
 adjutant waited in vain for an answer to his ap- 
 peal. 
 
 " Very well," he said. " Put 'em in the cells, 
 sergeant-major." 
 
 The two unfortunates were accordingly marched 
 away and were once more handed over to the ser- 
 geant of the guard. 
 
 " Cells for these two beauties, an' keep 'em safe, 
 or it'll be worse for you. Deserters they look like. 
 It's a court-martial case." 
 
 Alf quaked at this realization of his worse fears, 
 while even Bill looked concerned. 
 
 " I've on'y one cell, sir," said the sergeant of the 
 guard. 
 
 " Very well. Shove 'em in together. Can't be 
 helped." 
 
 The R.S.M. went off. 
 
 The instant the key turned on the two men, Alf 
 produced the Button and rubbed it. 
 
 "What wouldst thou have?" began Eustace, his 
 deep voice reverberating round the little cell. " I 
 am. . . ." 
 
 " Stop it they'll 'ear you ! "
 
 no ALFS BUTTON 
 
 " They 'ave 'card 'im," whispered Bill. " Quick, 
 Alf." 
 
 The sergeant, who had heard the rumbling voice, 
 was already fumbling with the stiff lock. 
 
 " Take us away," whispered Alf in trembling 
 tones. "Anywhere out of 'ere. QUICK!" 
 
 Before the sergeant had opened the door the 
 whole camp had faded from their view, and the two 
 found themselves in a desolate waste, faced by a 
 very puzzled and indignant djinn. 
 
 " Lumme, that was a near squeak! " gasped Alf. 
 
 " Yes," said Bill. He addressed Eustace in 
 heated tones. " What the 'ell did you want to go 
 an' land us in a mess like that for? Didn't Mr. 
 'Iggins say as plain as print it was a transfer we 
 wanted. Don't you know nothing at all? " 
 
 " It's always the same," put in Alf parenthet- 
 ically. " No common sense. Too slap-dash an' 
 'olesale." 
 
 But Eustace was ignorant of the nature of his 
 offense. He was conscious only that he had had 
 to be called in at a desperate crisis to rescue his 
 master from danger. He was full of indignation 
 at such sacrilege. 
 
 " Lord! " he said. u Command me that I should 
 go to that impious one and instantly reduce him to 
 ashes both him and his family and all that are 
 about him. Ill beseemeth it that any should lay 
 impious hands upon the Lord of the Button, and 
 live."
 
 BLIGHTY FOR TWO 111 
 
 " 'E's a bloodthirsty customer, ain't 'e?" said 
 Bill in awed admiration. "Talk about 'olesale ! 
 Look 'ere, Eustace, you'll be getting us into 'orrible 
 trouble if you don't look out. What was it you 
 wanted to do reduce the R.S.M. to ashes? 
 We're in a bad enough 'ole as it is, but that would 
 fair put the lid on. You wants to be a little more 
 up to date. Me an' Mr. 'Iggins is on'y privates, 
 you know; an' if we get monkeyin' with sergeant- 
 majors there'll be 'ell on for all of us." 
 
 " Verily," said the djinn in perplexed tones, " I 
 do not understand thy speech. Ill beseemeth it that 
 any man should presume to order the comings and 
 the goings of the Lord of the Button. Bid me 
 abase this proud upstart, and thou shalt rule in his 
 stead." 
 
 " No, thank you," said Alf. " I don't want to 
 be no bloomin' orficer. I'm a plain man, I am. 
 You see, Eustace, it's like this. In this 'ere war, 
 every one's fightin' soldiers an' civilians an' all. 
 Now, I'm not a soldier by trade fruit and vege- 
 table salesman I am. So I 'as to obey the orficers 
 an' the sergeants, 'cos they knows the job. If 
 they'd come into the fruit an' vegetables not knowin' 
 a carrot from a crisantlemum, they'd 'ave 'ad to 
 obey me. See ? " 
 
 "I don't think!" put in Bill. "Look 'ere, 
 Eustace, your job's to get us out o' this 'ere mess. 
 Just through yer bloomin' ignorance you're landed 
 us in a proper 'ole. 'Ere we are; we've deserted
 
 112 ALFS BUTTON 
 
 from the front, an' we've broken arrest in the 
 Reserve Battalion. 'Ow are we goin' to get out o' 
 that, eh?" 
 
 Alf made a tentative suggestion, his mind on 
 Colonel Watts. 
 
 " Better go back to France, 'adn't we? " 
 
 " I sh'd think we 'ad." Bill's hopeless nostalgia 
 of the day before was entirely forgotten. " Why, 
 I'd sooner stay in France the rest o' the war than 
 serve under that blighter we was before this 
 mornin'. 'E was a corker." 
 
 " But if we're deserters," said Alf dismally, 
 " 'ow can we go back? Wouldn't they shoot us? " 
 
 Bill looked at his watch. 
 
 " Why, it's on'y ten o'clock now," he said. 
 " They'd find we was gone at revally, so we've on'y 
 been away about four hours. What's four hours 
 when the battalion's restin'? They can't do much 
 to us." 
 
 " Might stop our leave." 
 
 " True for you. So they might. Now, what 
 can we . . .? I got it. 'Ere, Eustace, put 
 us down about 'arf a mile from the camp in France, 
 will you? Alf, you tell 'im. 'E won't do it for 
 me." 
 
 Alf complied. The familiar flat landscape reap- 
 peared before them and they welcomed it almost 
 with joy. 
 
 " Now," said Bill impressively, " tell 'im to 'op 
 over into the Boche lines an' bring us a prisoner.
 
 BLIGHTY FOR TWO 113 
 
 An' mind, none of 'is 'olesale ways! 'E'll bring a 
 'ole army corps over if you don't look out, an' then 
 we'd look silly. Just one, tell 'im a officer." 
 
 In a moment a fat and haughty-looking German 
 officer stood beside them. When he saw the khaki 
 tunics, his hand went to his side, but the two Tom- 
 mies flung themselves upon him. 
 
 " Get 'is revolver, Alf," panted Bill. " That's 
 the ticket. Now then, 'ands up, Fritz. You come 
 with us. You're our blinkin' alibi." 
 
 "What are you?" asked the Boche, in excellent 
 English. " You have, I suppose, escaped from your 
 cage. I warn you, you English dogs, to be more 
 respectful to your superiors. When you are caught 
 it shall go hard with you. That a common English 
 swine shall call me Fritz." 
 
 " Nothin' to what you'll be called in a minute if 
 you don't be'ave. Alf, I b'lieve the pore blighter 
 thinks 'e's still in 'is own lines. What a sell for 'im." 
 
 " Come on, Bochie," said Alf, his finger on the 
 trigger of the revolver. " Quick march." 
 
 " I will not move," declared the prisoner sullenly. 
 ' You cannot escape. There are men of mine on 
 every side. Give me the revolver and I will see 
 that you are not punished much." 
 
 " Thank you for nothing," said Bill. " These 
 'ere are the British lines you're in, Fritz dear, an' 
 you're our prisoner see? " 
 
 The German, who still failed to grasp the situa- 
 tion, broke into a torrent of abuse and threats.
 
 ii 4 ALPS BUTTON 
 
 " Ain't 'e the little gentleman," said Alf in admira- 
 tion. 
 
 Bill suddenly lost patience. 
 
 " 'Ere," he said. " Let's kill 'im an' get another 
 one. I can't stand 'ere arguin' all day. For one 
 thing, the longer we stays away the bigger row we 
 gets into. Now, Fritz, take yer choice. Will you 
 come quiet, or will you 'ave a nice cheap funeral? " 
 
 The German, seeing that Bill was in earnest, and 
 believing that his rescue could not be long delayed, 
 marched stiffly off with a very bad grace. His 
 astonishment was pitiable when he found himself 
 being marched through little knots and groups of 
 staring figures in khaki to a British camp. His 
 bombastic air disappeared, and his knees sagged 
 under him. 
 
 " Thought you'd 'ave a shock before long, 
 Fritz," said Bill. " Comes o' not believin' a 
 gentleman's word. Step lively, now. We're just 
 'ome, an' I want you to look yer best. After this," 
 he added in an undertone to Alf, " they can't say 
 very much to us, anyway." 
 
 Bill was right. In the excitement caused by 
 their dramatic return, the authorities forgot to make 
 any inquiry into the unauthorized absence of the 
 heroes of the hour.
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 
 LIEUTENANT DONALDSON BECOMES SUSPICIOUS 
 
 SOME days later, Lieutenant Donaldson was 
 sitting in " C " Company officers' billet, when 
 the battalion intelligence officer entered. 
 
 " Hallo," said Donaldson. " You look worried. 
 What's up?" 
 
 " I am worried. I wish you'd point out to your 
 company what a nuisance they make themselves to 
 their superiors when they go capturing Boche offi- 
 cers in the rest area. Ask 'em to think twice in 
 future. It'd save trouble if they'd kill the next one 
 they find and bury him on the spot." 
 
 " Why, what's up?" 
 
 " Well, the Staff's very anxious to know what this 
 particular chap was doing and how he got there. 
 I do see their point, you know. They take the 
 highly reasonable view that as prisoners are not 
 usually captured miles behind the lines in full uni- 
 form, this chap must have been up to some extra 
 special form of devilry. The presumption is that 
 he'd been spying, but they can't get a word of sense 
 out of the man himself. He pretends not to know 
 how he got into our lines. And the queer thing is 
 that we found papers on him dated the same day 
 
 115
 
 n6 ALPS BUTTON 
 
 as his capture routine orders and so on which 
 tally with papers of the same date on other prisoners 
 taken in the usual way. The thing's uncanny, 
 because it's so senseless." 
 
 " Have you noticed," said Lieutenant Donaldson 
 reflectively, " that there've been one or two things 
 out of the ordinary that have happened in this bat- 
 talion lately? " 
 
 " I know. And the colonel wants it stopped. 
 Says it'll give the battalion a bad name." 
 
 " Perhaps we've a family ghost," suggested Don- 
 aldson. " Anyway, I don't see how it hurts you." 
 
 "Me? The Staff seem to think I'm entirely 
 responsible for the whole thing. They want to 
 know in writing why I didn't get a full bio- 
 graphy of the blighter when he was brought in 
 as if he was any more likely to unbosom himself to 
 me than to the people who caught him. And now, 
 to give me a chance of recovery of my prestige, I 
 suppose, I've to see Higgins and Grant and find out 
 anything I can from them. Could you have 'em 
 sent for?" 
 
 " Of course." 
 
 ' The officer's compliments to 'is conquerin' 
 'eroes," said Sergeant Lees when the message ar- 
 rived, " an' would they favor 'im with their company 
 for a quiet chat? " 
 
 Ever since Alf and Bill's exploit had shed brilliant 
 if unexpected luster on their platoon, Sergeant Lees 
 had unbent with them and assumed a heavy jocular-
 
 DONALDSON BECOMES SUSPICIOUS 117 
 
 ity. This was his method of indicating that he was 
 pleased with them, but it filled Alf with grave fore- 
 bodings. Bill, on the other hand, took what the 
 gods gave and basked in the brief sunshine of the 
 sergeant's smile. On this occasion, however, he 
 basked too openly and the sun went in. 
 
 " Well," he answered in languid, aristocratic 
 tones. " If Don feels Vd like to see us, I s'pose 
 we might as well drop round for a minute or two, 
 eh, Alfred?" 
 
 " 'Ere," said the sergeant, who held that a joke 
 was only a joke so long as the right person made it, 
 " none o' that. Clean yourselves up an' report to 
 the officers' billet immediate." 
 
 " Come in," called Lieutenant Donaldson, as Bill 
 knocked on the door. " Stand easy. Now, Grant 
 and Higgins. I haven't had a chance of congratulat- 
 ing you on what you did the other day." 
 
 " That wasn't nothing, sir on'y luck, that was," 
 murmured Bill, and Alf shuffled his feet sympathet- 
 ically. Each had an uncomfortable feeling that he 
 was obtaining credit on false pretenses. 
 
 " However," continued the company commander, 
 " what I want you to do now is to tell the intelli- 
 gence officer just how it all happened, and answer 
 his questions." 
 
 He was looking at Higgins as he spoke, and could 
 not help being struck with the expression of horrified 
 apprehension that flitted across those ingenuous 
 features. He said nothing, however, but while the
 
 n8 ALPS BUTTON 
 
 intelligence officer was catechizing them he kept his 
 sleepy-looking but most observant eyes more than 
 ordinarily wide open. 
 
 " And that's all you can tell me? " asked the I.O., 
 after he had asked a dozen questions and received 
 nothing but the most unsatisfactory of replies. 
 
 " Yes, sir. The B'oche, 'e didn't tell us nothing. 
 'E comes down the road, an' we jumps out on 'im. 
 'Iggins 'ere grabs 'is pistol, an' we marches 'im 
 'ome. That's all." 
 
 " Did you question him at all? " 
 
 " No, sir." 
 
 "Why not? You didn't expect to see a Boche 
 officer there, did you?" 
 
 " No, sir." 
 
 " Then why didn't you question him? " 
 
 Bill looked about him for inspiration, and got it. 
 
 " I thought, sir, as 'ow we ought to leave all that 
 to you." 
 
 Lieutenant Donaldson watched the relief over- 
 flow Alf's countenance, and wondered what all this 
 could mean. 
 
 " That's what the Staff seem to think, too," 
 sighed the I.O., getting sadly to his feet. " Well, 
 if that's all you can tell me, I'll be off. I hope it'll 
 pacify the blighters. I can see myself getting shot 
 at dawn over this business. So long, Donaldson." 
 
 He went out. Higgins and Grant saluted and 
 were about to follow, when Donaldson, taking a 
 letter from his pocket, stopped them.
 
 DONALDSON BECOMES SUSPICIOUS 119 
 
 " I've had a most curious letter," he said slowly, 
 " from the Reserve Battalion." He looked up 
 sharply as he spoke, and saw sheer panic terror 
 gazing at him from Alf's eyes. " Captain Sande- 
 man writes to ask if you two men are here or 
 whether by any chance you have deserted. He gives 
 your names and numbers correctly, and a description 
 of you both, and says that these two men reported 
 to his battalion and then broke out of the guard- 
 room and mysteriously disappeared." 
 
 He looked sharply from one to the other. Alf 
 was trembling visibly; Bill was trying to look uncon- 
 cerned, but with little success. 
 
 " Now, listen to me," said Lieutenant Donaldson, 
 in the most impressive voice he could summon. 
 " Understand this. I've had my eye on you two 
 men for some time, and this little game of yours has 
 got to stop. I shall say no more now, but the next 
 time . . ." 
 
 He glanced once more at Alf, and saw that the 
 effects of his remarks were good. 
 
 " Now go," he said, " and remember, be very 
 careful in future. You're both due for your month's 
 leave in a short time, and it would be a pity to spoil 
 it. That's all." 
 
 As the two saluted and shambled out their officer 
 gave a rueful laugh. 
 
 " Now, I'd give a good deal," he said to himself, 
 " to know just exactly what I was talking about just 
 now, and what they thought I meant."
 
 120 ALPS BUTTON 
 
 " What are we goin' to do now, Bill? " asked Alf 
 miserably, as soon as they had left the company com- 
 mander's presence. 
 
 " Do? " said Bill, who had recovered his balance 
 to some extent. " Why, nothin'. What d'you want 
 to do?" 
 
 " Well, it's all up, ain't it, now 'e knows all about 
 it?" 
 
 " Rats! " said Bill contemptuously. " 'Ow can 'e 
 know all about it? I told you before that Don's no 
 fool, but 'e ain't such a bloomin' conjurer as all that. 
 'E's just noticed that there's something funny about 
 me an' you, that's all; an' 'e's got both eyes wide 
 open now waitin' for next time. Well, there ain't 
 got to be no next time, that's all." 
 
 " You mean I'll 'ave to throw the Button away? " 
 
 "What! Throw it away? You're barmy." 
 Bill glared at his pal. 
 
 "Well, what do I do?" 
 
 " I tell yer. Do nothing." 
 
 "Nothing at all? Keep the Button, an' . . ." 
 
 " O' course you keep the Button, you blinkin' 
 idjit. Does Don know anything about yer blinkin' 
 Button? It's my belief Don don't know a thing 
 'e's just bluffin' us. But all you 'ave to do is to leave 
 the Button alone till we get our leave. No more 
 Eustace till we're safe 'ome; but if you chuck the 
 Button away, Alf 'Iggins, I'll 'arf kill you. But I'd 
 give a good bit, I would, to know 'ow much Don- 
 aldson really knows."
 
 DONALDSON BECOMES SUSPICIOUS 121 
 
 Next day the news came through that the brigade 
 was not after all to be sent to another part of the 
 front; instead, it moved up once more for a tour of 
 duty in the well-known sector. The attention of 
 both sides at this time was concentrated on the great 
 battle going on at Arras, and the remainder of the 
 front was quiet but watchful. On the brigade's 
 frontage nothing more strenuous happened than a 
 continuous but not very intense bombardment, and 
 though the division on their right made a trench- 
 raid, the Middlesex Fusiliers were not called upon 
 for any exciting work. 
 
 During all this period Alf and Bill were as con- 
 spicuous by their presence among their mates as they 
 had formerly been by their absence. Whenever 
 wiring-parties and similar delights were required, 
 their names were usually the first on Sergeant Lees' 
 list, while fatigues of every kind became to them a 
 hobby. 
 
 " It's a queer thing," the sergeant observed 
 caustically to the company sergeant-major one day, 
 after he had fallen in a working-party for Lieutenant 
 Donaldson's inspection, and had heard the officer 
 comment favorably on the appearance of Privates 
 Higgins and Grant, " what good soldiers all our 
 scally-wags seem to 'ave become, now that there's a 
 chance of gettin' a leave. They'll eat out o' me 'and 
 now, but you see what'll 'appen as soon as they've 
 'ad their leave. More trouble they'll be 'n a bagful 
 o' monkeys."
 
 122 ALF'S BUTTON 
 
 The two were feeling the monotony of their return 
 to the ordinary existence of the front very bitterly. 
 
 " Takes all the spice out o' life, not bein' able to 
 do things with Eustace," said Bill, quite forgetting 
 that he had managed to infuse quite a considerable 
 amount of spice into his life in the days before the 
 coming of the djinn. " If our leave don't come 
 through soon I shall go clean barmy, I b'lieve." 
 
 At last the longed-for moment arrived. They 
 were both officially informed that their reengage- 
 ment leave of twenty-eight days was duly sanctioned 
 and that, barring accidents, they would depart in one 
 week's time. 
 
 "A week?" sighed Alf dolefully. "We may 
 both be pushin' up the daisies in a week from now." 
 
 " That's what I like about you, Higgins, you're so 
 cheerful," said Corporal Greenstock, who overheard 
 this remark. " Anyhow, if you want to start daisy- 
 pushing this journey you'll have to hurry. We're 
 being relieved to-night." He passed on. 
 
 " A week is little enough, too," said Bill suddenly, 
 " for all we got to do." 
 
 "What d'you mean?" 
 
 " We got to settle up about this 'ere marriage o' 
 yours, to begin with. Why, we don't even know the 
 bloomin' girl's name, yet." 
 
 Alf grinned sheepishly. 
 
 "I do," he said. He extracted from his pocket 
 a bulky and dilapidated pocket-book, from the dusky 
 recesses of which he produced a wad of paper. He
 
 DONALDSON BECOMES SUSPICIOUS 123 
 
 unfolded this and smoothed out its many creases, 
 when it disclosed itself as a page torn from the last 
 number of The Sketch which had reached the bat- 
 talion. It was headed " A Paradise for Wounded 
 Heroes." The first photograph showed Alf's won- 
 derful visitor in nurse's uniform, and beneath it was 
 written, " Miss Isobel FitzPeter, the famous society 
 beauty. She has now left Town altogether and is 
 devoting herself entirely to the Convalescent Home 
 for Officers which she has established at her father's 
 beautiful place, Dunwater Park, of which we give 
 pictures below. Miss FitzPeter has taken entire 
 charge of the administrative work of the Home. We 
 congratulate the fortunate few whose lucky stars 
 will lead them into the care of so fair a pair of 
 hands." 
 
 " Umph ! " said Bill, when he had inwardly 
 digested this. " So that's 'oo she is ! Well, I must 
 say I thought she might 'ave been Lady Something. 
 Why, she ain't even a ' honorable.' You'd better 
 change your mind, Alf, before you get too far. Sure 
 you wouldn't like a princess? Eustace'll get one for 
 you as easy as wink." 
 
 But Alf shook his head; he had been thankful to 
 find that the lady of his dreams moved in no more 
 rarefied an atmosphere. It had made her a little 
 more accessible. 
 
 Bill continued his study of the page in his hand. 
 
 " ' Dunwater Park, from the South,' " he read. 
 "Nice little villa enough 'bout the size o' Buck-
 
 124 ALFS BUTTON 
 
 ingham Palace. You won't 'ave to turn the kids 
 out of their bedroom when I come week-endin' with 
 you an' the missus there, will you? " 
 
 Alf gave a nervous snigger. 
 
 " * Dunwater Park, from the North- West,' " pur- 
 sued Bill. " Yes, it's a big place, but we'll make 
 Eustace put one up for us as'll beat this all to 
 nothing. What's this? ' Group of officers at 
 present under Miss FitzPeter's care.' Look 'appy 
 enough, don't they? Why ain't she in it? If I'd 
 been 'er, I'd 'ave planked meself down in the middle 
 of that photo, I would. 'Ullo, 'ere's one 'oo looks 
 like our Mr. Allen." 
 
 " P'raps it is 'im." 
 
 11 They don't put names, so we can't tell. Ever 
 'ad yer photo in the papers, Alf? " 
 
 "No. 'Ow could I?" 
 
 " Well, they 'ave lots o' silly things in sometimes. 
 Any'ow, once you've married this girl and got a big 
 'ouse you'll 'ave yer photo in once a day, an' twice 
 on Sundays. 'Go's this ole cock at the bottom o' the 
 page? ' Sir Edward FitzPeter.' That's 'er pa. If 
 I'd been you I'd 'ave 'ad a lord, but you never was 
 proud, was you, Alf? " 
 
 " Bill," answered Higgins seriously, " it ain't no 
 good." 
 
 "What ain't no good?" 
 
 " My marryin' 'er. It it ain't right. She's 
 too 'igh up for me. She she ought to 'ave a 
 gentleman."
 
 DONALDSON BECOMES SUSPICIOUS 125 
 
 " Lumme," said Bill scornfully, " you ain't goin' 
 to get cold feet now, are you? 'Ere you are, the 
 richest man in the 'ole world once you get 'ome, an' 
 you go an' get the wind up because some bloomin' 
 girl without even a Hon before 'er name is too 'igh 
 for you." 
 
 " 'Oo's the richest man in the world? " 
 1 You are, o' course. Don't you ever sit down 
 an' think out what you can do with that Button o' 
 yours? Lumme, if / 'ad it ... 'Ere, just as 
 a test like, tell Eustace to bring you a thousand 
 quid!" 
 
 " Not me. We said we wouldn't . . ." 
 "Right you are my mistake," conceded Bill. 
 " Well, you can take it from me it'll be all right." 
 " Eustace generally mucks it some'ow." 
 " Ah, but that's because we been giving 'im things 
 to do as 'e's not used to. But this weddin' business 
 an' the 'ouse an' so on'll be easy to 'im; he's done it 
 all before for Aladdin. If only that ole lady'd send 
 me that book what I asked 'er for, we'd know better 
 what Eustace can do. But if she don't get a move 
 on it'll be too late." 
 
 But next day, when the company reached its billet, 
 a mail arrived, in which was a bulky package ad- 
 dressed to Mr. William Grant, Pte. The old lady 
 had not failed her protege. The parcel contained 
 an aged copy of the Arabian Nights, leather bound 
 and smelling faintly of camphor. Between two 
 pages of the book had been slipped a letter.
 
 126 ALPS BUTTON 
 
 " DEAR WILLIAM GRANT," it ran. 
 
 " I can so well imagine how the hearts of our 
 dear boys in the trenches must yearn for the simple 
 stories of their childhood. I have been unable to 
 obtain for you a separate edition of the story you 
 desire, so I send you a complete edition which 
 belonged to my poor brother. It was one of his 
 most cherished treasures, and I have always pre- 
 served it in memory of him; but I am sure that he 
 could have wished nothing better than that his book 
 should be instrumental in adding to the happiness 
 of our brave soldiers. That it may bring you some 
 cheer in the midst of your terrible troubles is the 
 earnest wish of 
 
 " Yours most truly, 
 " SOPHIA BROWNE." 
 
 " I call that pathetic, I do," said Alf. 
 
 " Pore ole girl," said Bill. " Seems a shame, 
 don't it?" 
 
 " Tell you what," Alf suggested, " we'll keep it 
 nice an' clean an' send it 'er back when we've done 
 with it. Don't seem fair, do it, not to? " 
 
 " Well, you ain't started very well, 'ave you? " 
 
 "What d'yer mean?" 
 
 Bill leant forward and laid his finger on the open 
 page, whose slightly yellowed surface was now 
 adorned with a smudgy impress of Alf Higgins' 
 unwashed thumb. 
 
 For the rest of that day Bill devoted himself
 
 DONALDSON BECOMES SUSPICIOUS 127 
 
 sternly to study. He found the story of Aladdin 
 very long and full of irrelevant detail, but by night 
 his task was ended. 
 
 " Nice people they was in them times," he said, 
 as he shut the book. " Kill you as soon as look at 
 you. Alf, 'ere's a bit of advice for you. Whatever 
 you do, mind you never send Eustace birds-nestin' 
 for you." 
 
 " Birds-nestin' ? " 
 
 " Yes. Seems it's the one thing 'e can't stick. 
 Aladdin nearly upset the apple-cart that way. 'E 
 asked for a rook's egg and Eustace turned nasty. 
 Read for yourself." 
 
 Alf plodded painfully through the passage. 
 
 " Do R-O-C spell * rook ' ? " he asked finally. 
 
 " 'Course it do," said Bill. " So now we'll 'ave to 
 be careful. 'Tain't the kind o' thing a sensible 
 bloke would ask for any'ow, but people do get silly 
 fancies." 
 
 " What else do the book say? " 
 
 " Just what I told you. There's on'y one thing 
 in this world you can't 'ave, my lad, an' that's this 
 bloomin' rook's egg. Eustace'll rig you up a 'ouse 
 in 'arf a tick as'll make Windsor Castle look like 
 workmen's dwellin's. You've on'y got to say the 
 word, an' there it is. So what we 'ave to do is to 
 'ave a real tip-top palace stuck down somewhere 
 near this Ditchwater Park." 
 
 " But 'ow can we? " 
 
 " 'Ow d'yer mean? Eustace'll do it."
 
 128 ALPS BUTTON 
 
 " Yes, but if we go plantin' palaces on other 
 people's ground we'll get sent to clink, or something. 
 Then we'd look silly." 
 
 " Good for you, Alf. That's true. In the book 
 Aladdin got a bit o' land from 'is girl's father, an' 
 built 'is 'appy 'ome on that. We can't do that 
 That ole boy in your picture don't look that sort. 
 No, I'll tell you what we'll 'ave to take a 'ouse 
 one of these 'ere big 'ouses in the country like the one 
 your girl lives in, an' we'll let Eustace do it all up. 
 Arter all, if we went an' told Eustace to build us a 
 palace all in a night we'd 'ave the police an' the 
 newspapers an' I don't know what else on our 
 tracks." 
 
 " There mayn't be no big 'ouse goin' in 'er neigh- 
 bor'ood." 
 
 " Well, we'll 'ave to send Eustace over an' find 
 out." 
 
 " Send Eustace? " inquired Alf vaguely. 
 
 " We'll 'ave to. We got no time to waste." 
 
 " But the officer said . . ." 
 
 " I know what 'e said as well as you do; an' I'm 
 no more wishful to get my leave stopped than what 
 you are. But after all, where's the 'arm? We 
 never been found out yet, an' it won't take 'arf a 
 tick, an' I know a place where we'll never get 
 spotted." 
 
 Reluctantly Alf was persuaded to Bill's retreat 
 a disused dug-out and there, in much trepidation, 
 he summoned Eustace. He produced The Sketch
 
 DONALDSON BECOMES SUSPICIOUS 129 
 
 cutting once more from his pocket-book, and Bill 
 explained to the djinn what was wanted. 
 
 " Mr. 'Iggins wants to marry that young lady you 
 introduced 'im to, Eustace," Grant explained. 
 
 " Verily," replied the djinn, u the maid is of a 
 fairness surpassing even the Princess Badralbudour, 
 the bride of the Prince Aladdin." 
 
 " Yes. Well, this is 'er 'ouse, see? 'E wants 
 you to take a 'ouse for 'im near by, something after 
 the same style." 
 
 " In truth," said Eustace disdainfully, " it is not 
 meet that the Lord of the Button should dwell in so 
 mean a house. Command me that I build thee a 
 palace like unto that of Aladdin, or even more richly 
 bedight still, and it shall be done." 
 
 " Palaces ain't the fashion now," returned Bill 
 imperturbably. " This sort of thing is all the rage. 
 The lady won't like anything else, an' we 'ave to 
 think of 'er, you know." 
 
 " See what you can do, Eustace," said Alf, " an' 
 we'll wait 'ere for you." 
 
 " Lord, I hear and obey." 
 
 The djinn disappeared, and remained absent for 
 half an hour, when he materialized once more, wear- 
 ing a complacent expression. 
 
 " Lord," he said, " it is done. When will it 
 please my Lord to see his dwelling place? " 
 
 "'Ave you took a 'ouse already?" asked Alf, 
 aghast. 
 
 " Verily, the dwelling is unworthy that the Lord
 
 130 ALF'S BUTTON 
 
 of the Button should inhabit it; yet is it not less in 
 appearance than the dwelling of thy bride's father, 
 and assuredly in the magnificence of its interior it 
 doth far outshine his." 
 
 Alf turned despairingly to Bill. 
 
 " There 'e goes again. Slapdash an' 'olesale. 
 'Ow do we know what 'arm 'e's done? 'E's 
 probably mucked up the 'ole show now. I'm getting 
 fed up." 
 
 " Lord," said the djinn, " the dwelling is lacking 
 in nothing that the most extravagent of monarchs 
 could desire." 
 
 " You read the book, Alf," advised Bill. " It'll 
 be all right. If there's one thing Eustace does know 
 all about, it's 'ouse-furnishin' an' decoratin'. You 
 wait a week, an' you'll . . ." 
 
 He broke off in the middle of his sentence and 
 listened intently. Voices were heard above, and then 
 the sound of feet descending the stairs. Eustace 
 vanished without waiting for orders he was 
 quickly becoming accustomed to his new routine. 
 The two men, pocketing their pipes, retreated to the 
 farthest depths of the dug-out. The footsteps grew 
 louder, till three figures, dimly silhouetted against 
 the light from the stairway, entered the dug-out. 
 
 " This is the place, sir," said Lieutenant Donald- 
 son's voice. " I noticed it the other day. It runs 
 quite a long way back, and if Finlay cares to put his 
 stuff here I'll put a sentry over it." 
 
 " Seems all right," said another voice, at the
 
 DONALDSON BECOMES SUSPICIOUS 131 
 
 sound of which Bill clutched Alf s arm. " Let's 
 have a look at it." 
 
 Colonel Enderby switched on his pocket torch and 
 cast its faint beam round, but without disclosing the 
 cowering figures in the corner. 
 
 " Well, Finlay," he said at last, " I don't think 
 you'll get a better bomb-store than this." 
 
 " No, sir." The bombing officer switched on his 
 own torch and walked to the far end, examining the 
 walls for signs of damp. " Seems quite dry, too. 
 I Hallo!" 
 
 "What's the matter?" 
 
 Lieutenant Finlay had found the rays of his torch 
 throwing up into ghastly relief the open mouth and 
 glassy terrified eyes of Private Higgins. 
 
 " Who are you? " he said sharply. " Come out 
 of that!" 
 
 "What's the matter?" repeated the Colonel. 
 
 "There's a man here, sir. two men, I mean. 
 Who are you ? " 
 
 " Privates Grant and Higgins, sir." The two 
 came sheepishly into the light. 
 
 " What? " said Lieutenant Donaldson in tones of 
 thunder. "You two again? What are you up to 
 now?" 
 
 " Looking for another German officer, I expect," 
 said the colonel humorously. " Well, well, we 
 mustn't be too hard on such a remarkable pair, Mr. 
 Donaldson. But they must understand that this 
 straying from their platoon must cease."
 
 132 ALPS BUTTON 
 
 " Yes, sir." The company commander turned to 
 his two scapegraces. " Clear out of this," he said 
 in a fierce tone, " and you can thank your lucky stars 
 that the colonel was here. I'm fed up with you." 
 
 The two, returning to their platoon at the double, 
 sought out Sergeant Lees and volunteered for a 
 carrying party for which that N.C.O. was just de- 
 tailing a reluctant squad. 
 
 " Cert'nly," said he. " Always ready to oblige, 
 I am. Sure you 'aven't any little friends you'd like 
 to bring? Very well, then, never say I didn't do 
 anything for you."
 
 CHAPTER X 
 
 EUSTACE BLUNDERS AGAIN 
 
 THE leave-train, which had been in motion for 
 quite ten minutes, stopped once more with a 
 jerk, and Bill, curled up in a corner, swore com- 
 prehensively. 
 
 " Lord," he said, " if I didn't know it was 
 Blighty I was bound for, I'd get out an' walk back to 
 my blinkin' battalion." 
 
 " Don't seem too anxious to get away from the 
 front, do they?" said a gunner sitting opposite. 
 " Seems as though the old engine can't bear to leave 
 it. 'Ullo, we've started again. Bet you we don't 
 go further'n that little bridge along there." 
 
 " It's a bet ! " said Bill. " 'Ere, Alf, wake up an' 
 'old the stakes." 
 
 With keen interest they watched the bridge com- 
 ing nearer. At last they rattled across it in a 
 leisurely manner. 
 
 " I win," said Bill. " 'And over, Alf." 
 
 " On'y just, though," said the gunner with a rueful 
 grin, as the train stopped once more with a grinding 
 of brakes. 
 
 " 'Ere, I'm tired o' this bloomin' train. Come 
 out an' stretch yer legs a bit, Alf." 
 
 133
 
 134 ALPS BUTTON 
 
 " Don't get left b'e'ind," -advised the gunner. " I 
 want to win my franc back." 
 
 They sat down by the side of the track. 
 
 " Some train! " said Alf, breaking a long silence. 
 
 " Perishin'," answered Bill. " But it's a bit 
 better'n doin' them blinkin' fatigues for the 
 sergeant, eh? " 
 
 "You bet!" 
 
 The two men had spent a very wearing week. 
 Wherever they went the cold disapproving eye of 
 Lieutenant Donaldson seemed to be upon them; and 
 they had been constrained to live a life of painful and 
 laborious virtue. Sergeant Lees, divining their feel- 
 ings, had taken shameful advantage of them with 
 a view (he explained) to keeping them out of mis- 
 chief. 
 
 As a consequence they had for the past week 
 lived in a giddy social whirl of ration-parties, carry- 
 ing-parties and similar entertainments. But relieved 
 as they were at having started their journey, they 
 were not beyond chafing at the dilatory methods of 
 the train. At no time did it travel at much above 
 a walking pace; and it was liable at any time and for 
 no apparent reason to abandon all attempts to pro- 
 ceed. It would stand miserably for minutes 
 together, and when it moved on, it did so without 
 warning a habit which, in a more energetic train, 
 might have proved annoying. 
 
 " Come on," said Alf suddenly. " Train's start- 
 ing." 

 
 EUSTACE BLUNDERS AGAIN 135' 
 
 " No 'urry," Bill grunted placidly. He got up, 
 stretched himself and trotted leisurely along the 
 train till he came to his own carriage, and swung 
 himself in. 
 
 " 'Ow about another bet?" said the gunner as 
 they appeared. " A franc we don't pass that church 
 over there this spasm." 
 
 " Righto. But you'll win it must be 'arf-a- 
 mile from 'ere." 
 
 " Well, if we're goin' to get to Blighty at all this 
 week we'll 'ave to do a 'arf-mile stretch now an' 
 again, you know." 
 
 But Bill's prophecy proved correct. Long before 
 the church was reached he had handed back his 
 newly-won franc to the gunner and, in sheer irritable 
 restlessness, insisted on the somnolent Alf leaving 
 the train once more. 
 
 " What makes me sick," he said, " is to think of 
 that 'ouse in Blighty all ready an' waitin' for us, 
 an' beer an' drinks, an' 'ere we are as dry as a bone 
 in a 'owlin' French desert." 
 
 " Tell you what, then," answered Alf, struck with 
 an idea. " What's to prevent us slippin' away be'ind 
 that bridge an' lettin' the train go on without us? " 
 
 " An' tell Eustace to ... Lumme, you must 
 be wakin' up, Alf. W T hy, it'll mean us 'avin' about 
 three days extra leave. Come on! " 
 
 They strolled casually along the line without 
 exciting comment or interest on the part of their 
 fellow-travelers scattered about the line, and when
 
 136 ALFS BUTTON 
 
 the train started these were much too busily occupied 
 in scrambling back to their own places to notice that 
 two of their number had unostentatiously slipped 
 behind a culvert. The train puffed off busily; after 
 it had gone a hundred yards or 'so a head appeared 
 at one of the windows. 
 
 " Keep down," cried Bill. " It's the gunner 
 wonder what 'e'll do with our kits?" 
 
 The question was hardly out of his mouth before 
 it was answered. The gunner obviously a 
 creature of impulse was seen to push the two 
 packs and rifles of his late companions out of the 
 window of the train. 
 
 " Nice fool Vd 'ave looked if we'd been on the 
 train arter all, in another carriage," said Bill. 
 " Still, p'raps it's just as well to 'ave the things. 
 Now for Blighty." 
 
 Alf removed the black covering which still 
 shrouded his talisman. 
 
 " Better wait till the train's out o' sight," said 
 Bill. " She seems to be gettin' really started at 
 last. . . I s'pose there'll be plenty o' beer in your 
 new 'ouse? " 
 
 " If there ain't we'll jolly soon 'ave some. Tell 
 you what, Bill: 'Ow'd it be to 'ave one room in 
 the 'ouse rigged up as a bar. We c'd 'ave proper 
 sanded floors, an' a barmaid, an' an' no closing 
 time. Just for you an' me, so's we could 'ave a 
 drink any ole time. Make it seem more 'omelike, 
 wouldn't it?"
 
 EUSTACE BLUNDERS AGAIN 137 
 
 Bill stared at him in hopeless disgust. 
 
 "An' I thought you was beginnin' to think! " he 
 said. " This fair takes the biscuit. What low 
 ideas you do 'ave ! Why whatever'd the wife think, 
 an' your swell neighbors? You'll 'ave to be'ave like 
 a gentleman, you know, when you marries a lady." 
 
 " 'Ow'm I goin' to do that? " 
 
 " I'll teach yer. You trust me." 
 
 "You! An' W d'you know?" 
 
 " I do know. It's easy enough. Never you fear, 
 I'll look after you." 
 
 Alf, looking a little skeptical, eturned to the sub- 
 ject nearest his heart. 
 
 " Well, then, when'll I be able to get a drink 
 when I'm a gentleman? " 
 
 " Why, you can 'ave 'em all day long. You sits 
 in one easy chair an' me in -another, an' a footman 
 brings us whatever we wants." 
 
 " Lumme ! A footman? " 
 
 " O' course. An' then, in the evenin', we 'as a 
 reg'lar slap-up spread every day of our lives, with 
 your missus in laces an' diamonds: an' then when 
 she's finished 'er supper she goes off an' leaves us 
 to finish the drinks." 
 
 " 'Ow d'you know she will? " 
 
 " They always does. 'Aven't you been to no 
 plays, nor read no books? Lucky you'll 'ave me to 
 keep you straight. 'Ullo, the ale train's pretty 
 near out o' sight now. 'Adn't we better. . .?" 
 
 Alf, his hand shaking excitedly, rubbed his Button.
 
 138 ALPS BUTTON 
 
 Eustace appeared. 
 
 "That 'ouse," said Alf. "It's still all right 
 about that, I s'pose? " 
 
 " Master," answered the djinn, " for a week past 
 it hath been prepared for thine entry. Say but the 
 word and I will transport thee thither." 
 
 " Right. Me an' Mr. Grant's quite ready now. 
 On'y just get our kits an' rifles off the side o' the 
 line first." 
 
 " 'Ome, John! " added Bill facetiously. 
 
 Eustace advanced upon them and they closed 
 their eyes involuntarily. As before, nothing seemed 
 to happen to them; and yet, when they opened 
 their eyes again they were standing on the carriage 
 sweep before the front door of an imposing country- 
 house built of gray stone, overgrown for the most 
 part with ivy and Virginia creeper. The building 
 seemed to them vast immense. It was long and 
 low, and covered a great deal of space. They 
 gazed about them hurriedly, and received an impres- 
 sion of great trees and smooth-shaven lawns, orna- 
 mental waters and flagged paths. 
 
 Alf gazed about him in awe. 
 
 " What do we do next? " he asked in a whisper. 
 
 " Ring the bell," answered Bill. " It's yours." 
 
 Alf advanced timidly up the steps, but recoiled in 
 alarm as the door opened unexpectedly. It dis- 
 closed an Eastern personage whose clothes were stiff 
 with gold and dazzling with gems; bowing low, he 
 took both Alf and Bill respectfully by the hand and
 
 EUSTACE BLUNDERS AGAIN 139 
 
 led them through the doorway. Here the personage 
 with another deep obeisance stood aside and 
 motioned to them to precede him. 
 
 They crossed the vestibule towards the great hall 
 which formed the center of the building, realizing 
 that the whole house was one glittering mass of 
 shifting barbaric color. In the hall itself stood 
 slaves in ordered ranks, black and white, male and 
 female, each attired with magnificence only one 
 degree less than that of the personage who had 
 received them. The whole crowd stood waiting, 
 silent and motionless, for their new master to appear. 
 
 Bill came first. He sauntered easily into the hall 
 with his hands in his pockets that is, as easily as 
 is possible on mosaic pavement to one wearing 
 ammunition boots and stood looking about him 
 in a silence in which a pin's fall would have caused 
 a reverberating crash; then Alf, who had been 
 wrestling with a demon of shyness in the darkness of 
 the vestibule, clattered sheepishly across the thresh- 
 old. 
 
 In that instant the silence was shattered into a 
 million pieces. Seven bands of weird and piercing 
 oriental instruments came simultaneously into action 
 in seven different keys and, so far as could be dis- 
 cerned above the frenzied beating of tambours, play- 
 ing seven different tunes. Such of the gathering as 
 had no instruments contributed to the joyful effect 
 by shrieking and howling at the tops of their voices. 
 
 Alf already awed by his surroundings was
 
 140 ALFS BUTTON 
 
 quite overwhelmed by this demonstration. For one 
 moment he seemed to contemplate flight; then, pull- 
 ing himself together, he sought the side of his mate. 
 
 Bill turned towards him and shouted something, 
 but it was utterly lost in the hideous din. 
 
 " Can't 'ear ! " bellowed Alf , and shook his head 
 in confirmation. 
 
 Bill's mouth opened and shut in a frenzied man- 
 ner, and his face turned purple. He was utterly 
 inaudible. At last, encircling Alf's ear with his two 
 hands and using them as a trumpet, he bawled 
 with the full force of his lungs: 
 
 "STOP IT!" 
 
 Alf leapt away as if he had been shot and began 
 to massage his ear tenderly. His lips moved 
 fervently, and his eyes held bitter reproach. The 
 joyous din of welcome continued and swelled. For- 
 getting his injury Alf bawled back in the same way : 
 
 "'Ow?" 
 
 " EUSTACE ! " returned Bill impatiently. 
 
 Alf's fingers flew to his Button; in the mental 
 paralysis caused by the awful din he had forgotten 
 the djinn; but the instant his fingers touched the 
 talisman every sound ceased. It did not die away; 
 it ended suddenly, as though a giant had stopped 
 his gigantic gramophone in the midst of a bar. At 
 the same moment the entire assembly, even to the 
 magnificent major-domo behind them in the vestibule, 
 fell forward on its face and remained motionless. 
 Alf and Bill to whom, after three years at the
 
 EUSTACE BLUNDERS AGAIN 141 
 
 front, it was second nature to take cover whenever 
 their neighbors did so without asking questions 
 groveled likewise for a moment. Then they rose 
 sheepishly and stared about them in astonishment. 
 Not a sound or a movement came from the assembly. 
 Then Alf, whose fingers had paused involuntarily 
 when the noise shut off, rubbed -the Button and the 
 djinn appeared. 
 
 " 'Ere, Eustace," said Alf with some heat, " what 
 was all that blinkin' noise about, eh? We can't 'ear 
 ourselves think." 
 
 " Lord," said the djinn in pained surprise, " this 
 was a concert of music in thine honor such as 
 delighted the ear of the great Caliph Haroun 
 Alraschid." 
 
 "Aaron 'oo? Never 'card of the bloke, but 'e 
 must 'ave 'ad a queer taste in music. Any'ow 
 there's no need to kick up such a blinkin' row about 
 it. Very nice of you an' all that, but you're bein' 
 too 'olesale again. My ears is singin' now let 
 alone Mr. Grant 'avin' near busted me ear-drum." 
 He caressed his injured member again. 
 
 Eustace, who only half comprehended this 
 harangue, but gathered that his unaccountable master 
 was once more finding unexpected faults in his 
 arrangements, said nothing. 
 
 " Look 'ere, Alf," suggested Bill suddenly, 
 " 'adn't you better let some o' these pore blighters 
 get up? The blood'll be running into their 'eads 
 something 'orrid."
 
 142 ALF'S BUTTON 
 
 Alf addressed himself to the prostrate crowds. 
 " 'Ere," he said in diffident tones, " you can get up 
 now." Not a soul moved. 
 
 " Squad! " said Bill loudly, in the formula sacred 
 to the use of the army instructor in physical training. 
 " On the feet UP!" 
 
 The assembly remained prostrate. 
 
 " The blinkin' 'eathens don't understand English, 
 that's what it is," said Alf with sudden enlighten- 
 ment. " You tell 'em, Eustace." 
 
 The djinn uttered one guttural, staccato syllable. 
 In a moment the multi-colored crowd had melted 
 away, and the great house began to hum with life. 
 In every direction slaves could be seen, each 
 engrossed in his or her duties. Alf, master of all 
 he surveyed, felt for the first time the full weight 
 of his responsibilities. 
 
 " I say, Eustace," he said querulously, " 'ow the 
 'ell am I goin' to look after a lot o' niggers as don't 
 understand a word I says to 'em? Can't you get 
 me an English 'ousemaid or two? " 
 
 " Can't be got," said Bill. " I read it in a paper 
 t'other day. They called it the Servant Problem. 
 You be thankful you've got these. An' very nice 
 too ! " he finished, his eyes on two langorous-eyed 
 maidens in brilliant draperies who were descending 
 the stairs. 
 
 " Lord," said Eustace, " none are there of thy 
 speech among the slaves of the Button. But thy 
 steward " -he indicated the personage who had wel-
 
 EUSTACE BLUNDERS AGAIN 143 
 
 corned them, now waiting patiently till he should be 
 required again " he is skilled in thy tongue, and 
 through him will these thy servants perform all 
 thy will. His name is Mustapha." 
 
 Eustace disappeared. 
 
 "Phew!" said Bill, looking about him. "All 
 gold, an' silk, an' marble ! Looks more like one o' 
 them pantomime scenes than a real 'ouse, don't it? 
 An' all them niggers, an' the girls an' all. An' 
 'im!" 
 
 He indicated once more the major-domo. 
 
 " Ain't much furniture about, is there? " said Alf 
 after a pause. " Only sofas an' things." 
 
 " No. That's Eustace an' 'is old-fashioned ideas. 
 Don't matter, though. Anything we want later on 
 we can send 'im for. What I want now's a drink. 
 Tell 'im." 
 
 " What did Eustace say 'is name was? " 
 
 " Mr. Farr, I think. Something like that. Call 
 'im an' see if 'e answers." 
 
 The major-domo did answer. Before long the 
 two warriors were slaking their mighty thirst with 
 real beer. Eustace might be slow to learn, but he 
 seldom forgot a lesson. 
 
 "Ah!" said Bill, smacking his lips. "Now, I 
 begin to feel something like. What's the next 
 move?- Farr 'ere seems to 'ave something on his 
 mind. What's up with you? Speak up." 
 
 Mustapha, with another obeisance, spoke up. 
 
 " If my lord permits, thy slaves await thee that 
 they may bathe thee and change thy traveling-dress
 
 144 ALPS BUTTON 
 
 for a garment better befitting thy state. After 
 this there is prepared for thee a banquet." 
 
 " Civvy clothes? That's a bright idea o' yours," 
 replied Bill condescendingly. " Of course we can't 
 go on wearing these 'ere things. We'll 'ave 
 another drink a long 'un, Farr, an' a strong 'un 
 an' then you can do what you like." 
 
 " While I think of it," said Alf, " p'raps I'd 
 better take the Button off me tunic; then it can't 
 get lost." 
 
 He suited the action to the word, and threaded 
 'the talisman on to the cord which hung round his 
 neck and supported his two identity disks. 
 
 The drink was brought. This time it was not 
 beer, but some far more potent liquid. Its immedi- 
 ate effect on Bill was to stimulate his imagination. 
 
 " What's your name goin' to be, Alf? " he asked 
 suddenly after the first draught. " I'm goin' to be 
 Mr. Montmorency." 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 " Well, you don't want anybody recognizing us, do 
 you? If this girl o' yours knows you're Private 
 Alf 'Iggins of 'Ackney she'll never look at you. But 
 if you shaves off yer mustache and calls yerself 
 Wentworth, and dresses yerself like a gentleman 
 what ho, how about it? " 
 
 " You are a one," said Alf admiringly, wiping his 
 lips and then his eyes. " You think of everything. 
 This stuff don't 'arf tickle you up, do it? What 
 about you? You 'aven't got a mustache to shave 
 off. Will you 'ave a false one? "
 
 EUSTACE BLUNDERS AGAIN 145 
 
 " Eh ? Oh, I don't marrer," said Bill thickly. 
 
 The effects of the drink whatever it was 
 were now the reverse of stimulating. They were 
 swift and complete. When Mustapha entered a 
 moment later his lord and his lord's companion were 
 side by side on the floor in stertorous slumber. At 
 his command a party of slaves entered and carried 
 the recumbent forms reverently upstairs. 
 
 Next morning Alf was awakened by the sun shin- 
 ing through the latticed windows and falling in 
 brightly colored patches across his room. Wher- 
 ever the light struck there was a glitter almost un- 
 bearable to his heavy eyes. He was lying in a bed of 
 wonderful softness in a lofty chamber in which every- 
 thing about him gave the impression of sumptuous- 
 ness and luxury. Where the sunlight struck his 
 coverlit it shimmered and shone and twinkled till 
 he was completely dazzled. It was made of cloth 
 of gold thickly sewn with diamonds and pearls. 
 
 He gazed about with an idiotic expression, for his 
 intellect was still in abeyance; and he tried without 
 much success to remember where he was and how 
 he got there. He could recall nothing clearly since 
 he had fallen asleep in the great hall, still in his 
 worn khaki with the dust of France upon him. He 
 knew in a dim way that much had happened to him 
 since then. There were various hazy recollections 
 in his mind: of a bath, warm and scented, wherein he 
 had lain at ease while other hands than his had 
 cleansed him; of being clothed in garments more
 
 146 ALFS BUTTON 
 
 gorgeous than his imagination could have conceived, 
 and of reclining with Bill (no less gorgeously clad 
 than himself) on a divan where strange foods had 
 been brought to them by lustrous-eyed girls; of 
 listening to weird music and witnessing queer, sinu- 
 ous dances. Lying here this morning he could not 
 say whether these things had really happened or 
 whether he had dreamed them. Only he knew that 
 the effort to think made his head ache, and that judg- 
 ing by his general condition he must have had a 
 remarkably " thick " night. 
 
 He closed his eyes and dozed uneasily, but was 
 soon awakened by the sound of stealthy footsteps 
 and the swish of silken draperies. He half opened 
 his eyes, and, glancing cautiously under lowered lids 
 saw that his room was gradually filling with people 
 whose one care seemed to be to avoid waking him. 
 They disposed themselves round the chamber in 
 some kind of settled order and, with eyes fixed on 
 his recumbent form, stood waiting. Alf, still won- 
 dering what this might mean, suddenly noticed that 
 quite half of his unexpected visitors were women 
 just such women as haunted his hazy recollections of 
 the night before. 
 
 Shocked to the depths of his respectable soul, Alf 
 opened his eyes and sat up. Instantly the entire 
 assemblage prostrated themselves except some of 
 the women, who, Alf saw with horror, carried musi- 
 cal instruments and displayed every sign of being 
 about to play upon them. 
 
 Alf clutched his aching head.
 
 EUSTACE BLUNDERS AGAIN 147 
 
 "No, no!" he shouted imploringly. "Stop it. 
 Farr Mr. Farr! Take 'em away!" 
 
 " Lord," said Mustapha, entering and bowing 
 gravely. " I am here." 
 
 " Turn them shameless 'ussies out o' my room. 
 What are they doin 1 'ere? I never 'card o' such 
 goin's on. " 
 
 " Verily, Lord, they are the ladies of thy house- 
 hold, whose duty it is to be present at thy levee. 
 And these others are ladies skilled in music, who are 
 about to wish thee good-morrow with a concert of 
 soft sounds." 
 
 " Not if I know it not while I've got a 'ead on 
 me like this, any'ow. Clear 'em all out, every last 
 one of 'em men as well." 
 
 Mustapha said a few words to the concourse, 
 which went away saying no word but looking very 
 much astonished. 
 
 " An' now," said Alf, " where's me clothes? " 
 
 " Lord, they are here." Mustapha indicated a 
 magnificent garment which was lying with a jeweled 
 turban on a cushion at the side of the bed. 
 
 " Clothes, I said," remarked Alf caustically, " not 
 a blinkin' dressing-gown what's that?" 
 
 " That " was a bull-like roar in the distance, which 
 repeated itself over and over again until it at last 
 resolved itself into a call for " Alf." 
 
 " 'Ere, Bill," bellowed Alf in return. 
 
 "Oh! 'Ere you are," said the newly-christened 
 Mr. Montmorency in wrathful tones as he entered. 
 " Every room I go into seems to be full o' women.
 
 148 ALF'S BUTTON 
 
 'Ere, what d'you think o' this? " He displayed the 
 garment he was wearing a voluminous coat of 
 some rich shimmering stuff. " Pinched me clothes, 
 they 'ave, an' left me this . . . this. . . ." 
 
 Words failed him. 
 
 " An' a pair o' pink satin trousers," he concluded 
 with heat. " What's the game? " 
 
 " Dunno. Same 'ere," answered Alf. " Look 
 'ere, Farr, don't you start no funny jokes with us. 
 Clear this mess away an' bring us some proper civvy 
 clothes." 
 
 " Same as what a gentleman 'ud wear," added 
 Bill. " Pot 'at, an' gloves, an' spats, an' an' so on. 
 An' 'urry up." 
 
 " But, Lord," protested Mustapha, " these are 
 garments of the greatest magnificence, such as the 
 great Caliph Haroun Alraschid delighted to 
 wear. . . ." 
 
 " All right, take 'em to 'im. 'E can 'ave 'em, for 
 all I care. Look 'ere, 'ave you got any ordinary 
 clothes or not? " 
 
 " Suits less magnificent have I many, O Master. 
 But as for the hat called pot, or the spat, I have no 
 knowledge of such. Nevertheless . . ." 
 
 tp I see what it is," said Alf disgustedly. " It's 
 just Eustace. 'E's mucked it again. We'll just 
 'ave to send for 'im an' tell 'im what sort of a rig-out 
 we want. Pity 'e can't never get nothing right the 
 first time, ain't it? " 
 
 He sat down on his diamond-studded coverlet and 
 once again summoned his sorely tried familiar.
 
 CHAPTER XI 
 
 THE VICAR'S WIFE OUTRAGED 
 
 WELL, Julian," said Mrs. Davies in her most 
 determined tones. " I think it's your plain 
 duty to call at once." 
 
 The Vicar of Denmore sighed, and laid down his 
 paper on the breakfast-table. 
 
 " But, my dear," he protested mildly, " we know 
 nothing of the new people at the Manor. We don't 
 even know if they have taken possession. If it is 
 true that extensive alterations are going on, they 
 can hardly be there yet. Why, it's only a week 
 since they took the place." 
 
 " Julian," returned his wife, " there is no use in 
 arguing the point. It's quite time that all the 
 mystery about the Manor was cleared up. You 
 know I hate gossip. . . ." 
 
 She paused. The vicar took a drink of coffee. 
 
 " You know," resumed Mrs. Davies very dis- 
 tinctly, " that I hate gossip. . . ." 
 
 " Of course, of course, my dear," agreed the 
 vicar hastily. 
 
 " But it is impossible not to know that the whole 
 neighborhood is talking. I'm not asking you to pay 
 a ceremonious call. If the people turn out to be 
 German spies. . . . The feeling of everybody is 
 that the sooner somebody finds out just what is 
 
 149
 
 150 ALFS BUTTON 
 
 happening at the Manor, the better. And you've 
 got the best excuse." 
 
 Mr. Davies got up and walked about the room. 
 
 " Really, my dear,"- he said at last in what was 
 (for him) quite a fierce tone, " if you're asking me 
 to do this out of mere idle curiosity . . ." 
 
 "Idle fiddlesticks! Do remember there's a war 
 on, Julian. When a great big house like that sud- 
 denly becomes full of people from nobody knows 
 where, who never seem to come out of the grounds, 
 and who certainly don't deal with the local trades- 
 men, what is one to think?" 
 
 " That they import their provisions from Lon- 
 don," suggested the vicar. 
 
 " But they don't. The only London van that 
 comes here is Harrods' the FitzPeters deal there, 
 but I know they don't call at the Manor." 
 
 " Did Miss FitzPeter tell you that?" 
 
 " No. She doesn't seem very interested in the 
 concerns of the village. She could or would tell me 
 nothing. . . . But I stopped Harrods' van in the 
 village and asked the driver. The whole business 
 is most suspicious. So we think I think that it's 
 quite time you went up to the Manor and found out 
 whether they're going to use the Manor pew." 
 
 The vicar sighed deeply. 
 
 " Very well, my dear," he said with resignation. 
 " Since you insist. But I fear my talents do not lie 
 very much in the direction of private detection. 
 What is the nature of the gos . . . the er 
 tales that are going about in the village? "
 
 THE VICAR'S WIFE OUTRAGED 151 
 
 " Oh, just vague and exaggerated rumors. You 
 see, nobody has been allowed inside the grounds at 
 all. There haven't even been any letters for the 
 people yet. I was at the post-office yesterday and 
 Mrs. Rudd was most aggrieved about it. Of course 
 everybody thinks they're spies, or horrible plotters, 
 or something. Otherwise, why should they behave 
 like this? Bobby Myers says that he and another 
 boy climbed over the fence and saw a lot of black 
 men in the garden, but that I do not believe. I 
 have seldom found Bobby truthful." 
 
 " I fully expect that I shall find something in the 
 nature of a mare's nest," said the vicar. " But per- 
 haps I can do some good by reminding these people 
 that a village is always a hotbed of that is, that 
 people will talk, and that . . ." He broke off, 
 realizing that to express tactfully just what he 
 wanted to say was beyond his power. " All the 
 same," he finished, " if there is anything wrong, I am 
 afraid that so very shortsighted an emissary as I will 
 prove of little use." 
 
 " Never mind about that, Julian. I shall do all 
 that part of it as if I could trust you! You are 
 just my excuse, that's all." 
 
 " But, my dear, is it quite usual ... ? " 
 
 Mrs. Davies snorted. 
 
 " Is it usual to shut oneself up as these people are 
 doing especially in war-time? Anyhow, usual or 
 not, I'm going. For a whole week there's been 
 something mysterious going on in that house and I 
 mean to find out what it is before anything dreadful
 
 152 ALPS BUTTON 
 
 comes of it. I'll be ready soon after lunch, 
 Julian." 
 
 Later in the day the reluctant clergyman and his 
 far from reluctant wife turned in at the drive gates 
 of Denmore Manor. They walked along the thick 
 and somber avenue, at the end of which the trees 
 suddenly ceased altogether and the drive gave a 
 half-turn before sweeping on to the house. There 
 was no one visible except a far-away gardener, of 
 whom so little could be seen that it was quite impossi- 
 ble to judge whether he were a suspicious-looking 
 character or not. The visitors looked round them 
 at the smooth, green lawns and the riot of flowers, 
 and the vicar sighed once more this time in con- 
 tent. 
 
 " I should like to know," observed his wife with 
 asperity, " how many men of military age it took to 
 do this in a week? Why, the place was a wilder- 
 ness. It had not been looked after for two years, 
 and even in peace-time it took a small army to look 
 after it. However, I suppose you can get things 
 done even in war-time if you're rich enough and 
 unpatriotic enough." 
 
 She marched resolutely up the steps, evidently 
 more firmly convinced of the righteousness of her 
 mission than ever, and paused with a hand on the 
 bell. 
 
 " All the windows are barred," she commented 
 darkly, as the lattices which Eustace's Eastern taste 
 had brought into being struck her questing eye. 
 " Does that convey nothing to you? "
 
 THE VICAR'S WIFE OUTRAGED 153 
 
 The vicar, who could not honestly have said that 
 it conveyed anything very sinister to him, merely 
 looked uncomfortable. Mrs. Davies pulled the bell- 
 handle. The door opened with embarrassing sud- 
 denness to display two massive negroes, clad in uni- 
 forms of startling brightness. Inside the vestibule 
 could be seen the magnificent Mustapha. 
 
 "My goodness!" said Mrs. Davies, shrinking 
 back suddenly. " Blacks!! Bobby was right." 
 
 The major-domo bowed low and with a gesture 
 invited them to enter; but the lady, who distrusted 
 " blacks " fervently, left her husband to reply. 
 
 The vicar beamed vaguely in the direction of the 
 doorway. 
 
 " Er is Mr. er that is," he began feebly. 
 
 " Enter, O Master," said Mustapha, leading 
 the way inside, " thou and thy woman with 
 thee." 
 
 " Woman, indeed! " muttered Mrs. Davies in out- 
 raged tones as she followed them. " Woman ! ! A 
 black . . ." 
 
 " My dear," urged the vicar in an earnest under- 
 tone. " It's probably only the Eastern way. I do 
 not suppose he means any disrespect." 
 
 " I hope not, indeed. . . . Good Heavens! " 
 
 The newly decorated hall had burst suddenly on 
 Mrs. Davies' vision, and her injured pride was for- 
 gotten in her amazement at the sight. The vicar, 
 who could only discern a blaze of color, gazed too. 
 Mustapha moved majestically across the hall and 
 disappeared up the marble staircase.
 
 154 ALFS BUTTON 
 
 " Julian," demanded Mrs. Davies, " are we 
 dreaming? What has happened?" 
 
 The vicar, who had now managed to focus his 
 myopic eyes, glanced at the wall opposite the front 
 door, and gave a wail of anguish and horror. 
 
 u The tapestry ! " he cried. u The great tapestry. 
 They've taken it down. How could they? " 
 
 He went over to the wall where once the tapestry 
 had been and gazed forlornly at it as though he 
 hoped by some occult power of thought concentration 
 to bring it back. 
 
 " Well," said Mrs. Davies acidly, " they are at 
 least consistent. You could hardly expect tapestries 
 to go with this kind of thing." She was at the foot 
 of the stairs, examining the knob of the heavily 
 gilded banisters. It was studded with diamonds and 
 completed with an enormous ruby worth about as 
 much as the house. " Terrible pieces of glass stuck 
 about everywhere. Dreadful sham orientalism; 
 why, they've even had that fine old staircase taken 
 down and marble put in instead. It looks more like 
 a second-class restaurant than . . ." She wandered 
 off on a tour of inspection; a moment later her voice 
 was angrily upraised. 
 
 " What do you want, you shameless hussy? How 
 dare you touch me? Go away. Do you hear me? 
 Take your hands off me and go away. . . . Let me 
 go, woman. . . . Julian ! Julian ! ! " 
 
 The vicar rushed blindly in the direction of his 
 wife's voice; his pince-nez fell off and flew wildly at 
 the end of their cord. He stumbled over a divan,
 
 THE VICAR'S WIFE OUTRAGED 155 
 
 slithered across the marble floor and stood, panting 
 and peering, at his wife's side. He found her, 
 flushed and angry, standing at bay before a group of 
 lovely and perplexed but very scantily clad female 
 slaves, who had approached at Mustapha's com- 
 mand to conduct her to the women's quarters of the 
 house. As the vicar arrived, the leader made 
 another attempt to take Mrs. Davies' hand, and 
 received from the angry lady a stinging smack 
 across the face. Instantly she and her following 
 prostrated themselves on the floor. 
 
 " My dear Hermia ! " murmured the vicar. 
 
 " Julian," returned Mrs. Davies in a terrible 
 voice, " this is no place for me, or for you either. 
 Take me home at once. This " she eyed the 
 prostrate but shapely forms around her, and 
 shuddered " is worse than I could have imagined. 
 I insist on your taking me home at once." 
 
 " But really, Hermia," said the vicar mildly, " I 
 am sure this young lady . . . perhaps in the East 
 . . ." The leader of the slaves, taking heart of 
 grace from the vicar's gentle tones, was rising to 
 her feet; but meeting a glance of concentrated venom 
 from his wife, she flopped back once more, appalled. 
 
 " East, indeed! " Mrs. Davies laughed scornfully. 
 " Hussies from the stage, most likely. Of course 
 you'll take their part, Julian. Men are all alike. I'm 
 only thankful that I came with you to this place." 
 
 She swung round to depart and came face to face 
 with Alf, who had ventured out to receive his first 
 guests. He was in a state of great trepidation which
 
 156 ALPS BUTTON 
 
 the sound of Mrs. Davies' angry high-pitched voice 
 did nothing to allay. It was a transformed Alf. 
 He had compelled Eustace to take away all the won- 
 derful but highly unusual garments with which he 
 had stocked his master's wardrobe, and, explaining 
 once more to his familiar how useless it was to be 
 wholesale without at the same time being up-to-date, 
 had commanded him to supply instead modern 
 clothes suited to every requirement of his new posi- 
 tion. He now appeared resplendent in a voluminous 
 frock-coat, gray trousers, a stand-up collar of inor- 
 dinate height and patent leather shoes. The whole 
 effect was completed and rounded off by a very 
 shiny top-hat. 
 
 This Alf at once removed. He stood nervously 
 twisting it in his hands. Mrs. Davies, not knowing 
 quite what to make of him, gave him a menacing 
 glare. 
 
 " Good afternoon ! " she said in threatening tones. 
 
 " Yes 'm," said Alf feebly. 
 
 " You, I suppose, are the butler. Is your master 
 in?" 
 
 " Yes 'm . . . I'm . . . that is, 'e's . . . er, 
 I'm 'im," was the lucid reply. It conveyed nothing 
 whatever to the lady. The vicar, however, who had 
 realized from the top-hat that he could not be speak- 
 ing to a butler, rose to the occasion. 
 
 " My name is Davies," he said courteously. " Er 
 my wife I have called to er the Manor 
 pew . . ." 
 
 Alf, feeling a shade happier, -put his hat on again.
 
 THE VICAR'S WIFE OUTRAGED 157 
 
 " Sit down, sir," he said. " Won't the lady take 
 a chair that is a ef cushion? " 
 
 " I will not," snapped Mrs. Davies fiercely. " I 
 am shocked and astonished at the things I have seen 
 and the way I have been treated, and if you are 
 responsible I demand an explanation, Mr. . . . 
 Mr. . . ." 
 
 " Ig . . . Wentworth," supplied Alf, remember- 
 ing at the last moment his change of name. 
 
 Once more he clutched his hat. It seemed to 
 afford him moral support in dealing with this terrify- 
 ing lady, and he clung to it for the remainder of the 
 interview. 
 
 " Really, my dear, Mr. Higg-Wentworth can 
 hardly be blamed for an error on the part of his 
 ... er ..." 
 
 The vicar's eyes rested with unclerical apprecia- 
 tion on the form of the recently smacked leader of 
 the slaves. He wondered what her exact status in 
 the establishment might be. Was she guest or 
 servant? He decided not to risk it. "I am sure 
 the ah young lady acted under a pure misap- 
 prehension." 
 
 His wife snorted. 
 
 " It is disgraceful, and their clothing is nothing 
 short of immodest. Please send them away at 
 once." 
 
 Alf gave an order to Mustapha, who translated 
 it into Arabic. The slaves rose and after bowing 
 low to Alf disappeared up the stairs with much 
 swirling of draperies and jingling of anklets. Mrs.
 
 158 ALPS BUTTON 
 
 Davies averted her face, but the vicar's gaze fol- 
 lowed them up the stairs until the last had disap- 
 peared. 
 
 Alf was feverishly anxious to make things right, 
 and he turned on Mustapha. 
 
 " Look 'ere, Farr," he said sternly, " what's all 
 this mean? Why was them girls bothering this 
 lady?" 
 
 " Lord," said the steward, " verily it was sup- 
 posed that this man had brought the woman hither 
 to sell her unto thee, and for that reason . . ." 
 
 " WHAT ! " Mrs. Davies' voice and expression 
 were such that even the imperturbable Mustapha 
 broke off in alarm. Alf stammered out something 
 unintelligible, but was cut short. 
 
 " You need say no more. I have heard and seen 
 quite enough. I am ashamed to have set foot in 
 such a place as this house has become. Dreadful ! " 
 She swept a glance of regal scorn round the hall. 
 " Let me tell you, Mr. Higg-Wentworth, or what- 
 ever you call yourself, that you have not heard the 
 last of this, nor those shameless undressed hussies 
 of yours either. This is a law-abiding English vil- 
 lage, where such things can be stopped I feel sure. 
 I shall go straight to Sir Edward FitzPeter and see 
 if something cannot be done. Come, Julian." 
 
 She stalked out. The vicar, perplexed and 
 unhappy and far from being convinced that his wife 
 was not making a fool of herself, followed. 
 
 Alf watched them out of sight, wondering miser- 
 ably whether it was still too late to do something to
 
 THE VICAR'S WIFE OUTRAGED 159 
 
 retrieve the situation; then as Mrs. Davies disap- 
 peared with a jerk round the corner of the drive, he 
 crammed his hat down on to his head with fierce 
 despair, regardless of the havoc he was causing to its 
 beautiful nap, and wandered dispiritedly up the 
 stairs to Bill. 
 
 That warrior was far from being dispirited. He 
 was lying on a divan with an expression of utter 
 content. He was even more gayly clad than Alf; 
 but he was now taking his ease, and his coat was 
 lying neatly folded on a cushion near by, revealing 
 to the gaze in all its glory a waistcoat which would 
 have occupied the place of honor at any exhibition of 
 futurist art. By his right elbow stood a tiny inlaid 
 table on which was a foaming flagon of beer. At 
 his feet, looking like a brilliant, shimmering heap of 
 silk, lay yet another of the army of female slaves. 
 She lay in an attitude of sinuous ease, but her dark 
 eyes were fixed on Bill's face with something of the 
 adoring expression of a faithful dog. 
 
 " 'Ullo," began Mr. Montmorency (ne Grant) 
 with a cheerful grin. ' 'Ere you are. 'Ave a drink 
 with me. This 'ere girl " he jerked an expressive 
 thumb at his attendant " she's a fair wonder, she 
 is. Mr. Farr, 'e's told 'er off special to look after 
 me, an' she don't 'arf take a pride in 'er work 
 neither. She don't understand a word I say, but it 
 don't matter. She just fetches me another every 
 time I finish, an' seems to like me better the more I 
 make 'er do. Never 'ad such a time in all me little 
 life. Lucy, I call 'er."
 
 160 ALPS BUTTON 
 
 " Seems fond o' you," said Alf gloomily. 
 
 " She is that. Thinks I'm no end of a nut. 
 Well, 'ow did you get on with the nobility an' the 
 gentry? 'Oo was it came? None o' your girl's 
 people, I s'pose." 
 
 Alf shook his head. 
 
 " That's all up," he said. " None of 'er people 
 won't never come to this 'ouse." 
 
 " Rats ! " said Bill. " Why, we ain't been 'ere 
 more'n two days, any'ow, an' 'ere's somebody been 
 to see us already. Why, it's on'y neighborly for 
 them to look us up. 'Oo was it to-day, any'ow? " 
 
 " The parson and 'is wife." 
 
 " Very good, for a start," commented Bill. 
 
 " Tisn't good at all," Alf retorted hotly. " I 
 tell you, Bill Grant . . ." 
 
 " Montmorency," inserted Bill in gentle paren- 
 thesis. 
 
 44 ... It's all up." 
 
 "What's all up?" 
 
 " We are. This place. It won't do. I've 
 I've mucked it all up, I s'pose. Comes of you not 
 bein' there." 
 
 " That's right. Put it all on to me ! I've got to 
 trot round like a bloomin' nursemaid, 'ave I, to keep 
 you out of mischief. What 'ave you been an' done, 
 any'ow? " 
 
 " This 'ere parson's wife, she's a fair terror. 
 She thinks we ain't respectable, an' she's off to get 
 ole Sir FitzPeter to fire us out of 'ere." 
 
 11 'E can't."
 
 THE VICAR'S WIFE OUTRAGED 1611 
 
 " No, but it knocks the bottom out o' me gettin' 
 'is daughter. 'Twasn't much of a chance before, but 
 it's all up now." 
 
 Bill considered. 
 
 " Why don't the ole girl think we're respectable? " 
 he asked at last. 
 
 " 'Cause of the blinkin' silly way Eustace 'as done 
 the place up. An' she saw a lot o' them girls, an' 
 she didn't like the way they was dressed." 
 
 " Well, I don't know as I'm altogether surprised 
 at that." Bill's eyes rested thoughtfully on Lucy's 
 bare leg, ornamented with a flashing anklet. 
 " You couldn't 'ardly expect it, could you? But we 
 can easy change that, you know. It'll mean you 
 'avin Eustace up again, but after all that's 'is look- 
 out. 'E ought to get things right first time. If 'e 
 won't, 'e must take the consequences. You can 'ave 
 all these girls dressed in nice black dresses, an' caps 
 an' aprons except my Lucy o' course. They 
 won't change you, will they, my dear ? " 
 
 He stirred Lucy gently with his foot, and she 
 sprang up ready to perform her usual task. Find- 
 ing her master's flagon still full, she sank back again 
 into her place with a puzzled but still adoring smile. 
 
 " What's the good . . ." began Alf. 
 
 " An' then," pursued Bill, taking no notice what- 
 ever of the interruption, " we'll 'ave some furniture 
 in, an' about time too. Then what can the parson's 
 wife 'ave to say, eh? " 
 
 " But what . . ." began Alf. 
 
 " Mind you," Bill continued serenely, " you'll
 
 162 ALPS BUTTON 
 
 'ave to tell Eustace just exactly what you want. It's 
 no good leaving it to 'im we know 'ow much good 
 'is ideas are. Tell 'im what you wants an' see you 
 gets it." 
 
 " Yes, but 'ow much good will that do? The ole 
 woman's gone off ravin' like a blinkin' lunatic, an' 
 once she gets round to ole Fitz Peter all the furniture 
 in the world won't do us no good. 'Ow can we stop 
 'er tellin' 'im?" 
 
 " Easy enough," said Bill with unabated confi- 
 dence. " Strike 'er dumb!" 
 
 "Eh?" Alf's eyes and mouth opened to their 
 utmost extent. 
 
 ' Tell Eustace to make 'er dumb. Then she 
 cant tell anybody anything." 
 
 " She could write it," said Alf, after consideration. 
 
 " Paralyze 'er, then," retorted Bill callously. 
 
 " Even then, 'er 'usband'd know. 'Sides, that 
 ain't goin' to do us no good. The neighbor'ood 'ud 
 be bound to notice it if she came 'ere an' then went 
 dumb an' paralyzed specially if we 'ad to do it to 
 the parson too." 
 
 " True for you, Alf it wouldn't make us what 
 you might call popular." 
 
 Bill took a long drink, to assist thought. The 
 faithful Lucy uncurled herself once more and left 
 the room with the empty flagon. 
 
 " Good girl," said Bill, looking after her. 
 " She'd make a fine wife, she would. I ain't goin' to 
 'ave no cap an' apron put on my Lucy, Alf; she can 
 keep out o' the way when there's company about, but
 
 THE VICAR'S WIFE OUTRAGED 163 
 
 I'm goin' to keep 'er dressed as she is, see?" 
 
 " Seems to me," Alf answered crossly, " if you 
 don't 'urry up an' think what's to be done, you an' 
 your Lucy'll 'ave to part company any'ow. Once 
 that ole woman gets to Ditchwater Park she'll make 
 these 'ere parts too 'ot to 'old us. An' she must 
 be 'arf way there by now." 
 
 Bill gave a scornful laugh. 
 
 " I'm ashamed of you, Alf, gettin' the wind up 
 like that. I am, really. Tell you what to do. 
 Tell Eustace to fix 'er whenever she tries to talk or 
 write about us she an' the parson, too. Then she 
 can't do no 'arm to anybody! 'Ow's that for a 
 scheme, eh? " 
 
 Bill put his thumbs in the armholes of his pic- 
 torial waistcoat; Alf stared in speechless admira- 
 tion. 
 
 " Lumme," he said at last. " You do think o' 
 things. But 'ow d'you know that Eustace can do 
 it?" 
 
 Bill held up the old lady's brother's copy of the 
 Arabian Nights. 
 
 " I been readin' this," he said, " seems to be just 
 the sort o' thing they used to like doing in them 
 times. I tell you, I'm glad it's us as 'ave got 
 Eustace an' not the 'Un, because . . ." 
 
 Fearing that Bill was about to bring up once 
 more his favorite scheme for using Eustace to kid- 
 nap the Kaiser and end the war Alf cut him short by 
 producing his talisman. Lucy, entering the room 
 at the same moment with a full tankard of beer for
 
 164 ALPS BUTTON 
 
 her lord, caught sight of the Button and instantly 
 prostrated herself. The tankard reached the 
 ground just before she did, with the result that 
 Lucy's clothes and hair and Lucy's devout forehead 
 weltered in a foaming pool of wasted beer. 
 
 Alf gasped. 
 
 " Tripped over the mat, I expect," he volunteered 
 feebly. 
 
 " You silly owl," roared Bill, exasperated no less 
 by the discomfort of his Hebe than by the waste of 
 his drink. " Don't you know yet what 'appens if 
 you bring out the Button in front of the servants? 
 Down they goes an' down they stays. Put it away, 
 quick, or you'll be drownin' the girl. 'Ere, Lucy, 
 'op it an' get dried." 
 
 Lucy, dripping with beer, fled, and Alf, looking 
 rather sheepish, once again produced the Button. 
 
 He hesitated. 
 
 " You know," he said, " I 'ardly like to I mean, 
 we 'ad Eustace up on'y yesterday, you know. If we 
 'ave 'im again now won't 'e be fed up? " 
 
 " Let 'im," said Bill. " S'long as you don't ask 
 'im for a rook's egg, 'e can't turn nasty. An' 
 any'ow you've got to 'ave 'im to swop the furniture, 
 so 'e may as well do the two jobs together. And 
 for 'eving's sake let's 'ave a few tasty pictures on 
 the walls, an' some ornaments an' things. We want 
 to make the place a bit 'omey." 
 
 " 'Ave whatever you like," replied Alf. " You 
 knows more about that sort o' thing than what I 
 do."
 
 THE VICAR'S WIFE OUTRAGED 165 
 
 He rubbed the Button. 
 
 Meanwhile, as the vicar and his wife had turned 
 into the road at the Manor gates, the doctor's gar- 
 dener, one Amos Goodwin, had chanced to be 
 passing. 
 
 Amos was a sociable creature who measured his 
 success in life by the amount of new and in some 
 cases original gossip he managed to put into circula- 
 tion. He was the most prolific purveyor of intimate 
 domestic scandal in the neighborhood. Certainly he 
 was the indispensable right-hand man of Mrs. Rudd 
 the post-mistress, supplying her with the material on 
 which she ran an informal Bureau of Unreliable 
 Information. Amos had come past the Manor on 
 the off-chance of seeing something which might sug- 
 gest a plausible theory about the Manor mystery; 
 but he was too good a journalist not to prefer to deal 
 in the truth when he could get it; and the appearance 
 of Mr. and Mrs. Davies actually leaving the suspi- 
 cious premises held promise of a real and authentic 
 " scoop " if he could only hear what they were 
 saying. He hobbled after the pair as quickly as he 
 could, his long ear straining forward; but they 
 swung off down the road at a pace that his rheumatic 
 old legs could not hope to emulate. All the same, 
 he had his reward; before she was out of earshot he 
 heard Mrs. Davies' loud and piercing voice, remark- 
 ing: 
 
 " Well, Julian, all I can say is that 7 consider the 
 whole place a perfect scandal. Those black men,
 
 i66 ALPS BUTTON 
 
 and the horrible women ugh ! The whole place 
 looked more like a scene from ' Chu Chin Chow ' 
 than an English country house. And one thing I 
 consider most suspicious. . . ." 
 
 Amos could hear no more. But on his way home 
 he stopped at the post office.
 
 CHAPTER XII 
 
 ALF RECEIVES 
 
 THAT evening a deep peace had settled over 
 Dunwater Park. Except for two people sun- 
 ning themselves on the terrace, all the inhabitants 
 of the hospital had gone to the tennis-court or the 
 golf-links or the river. 
 
 " Oh dear," said Isobel, breaking a long silence. 
 " I suppose I ought to go and finish the day's work 
 before dinner." 
 
 " Don't," urged Denis Allen earnestly. 
 
 " But duty calls." 
 
 " Let it. And if you're as virtuous as all that, 
 please note that it is your duty to entertain your 
 guests meaning me. Tell me the I say, there's 
 somebody coming across the lawn." 
 
 "Help!" Isobel pulled a face. "My pet 
 aversion." 
 
 " Of course," grumbled Allen disconsolately, 
 " this would happen the very first time I've had you 
 to myself." He sat up and regarded the approach- 
 ing couple with malevolence. " Which is your 
 er, friend? Male or female?" 
 
 " Oh, female. The vicar's rather a dear, but his 
 wife . . ." She gave an all-expressive gesture, and 
 rose to be polite to her unwelcome guests. 
 
 " This is Mr. . . . Why, do you know each 
 167
 
 i68 ALFS BUTTON 
 
 other? " For the vicar and Allen had fallen into 
 one another's arms. 
 
 " Last time we met," explained the reverend 
 gentleman, " I was bowling for your father's team 
 and this young man was what is technically known 
 as taking tea off me." 
 
 " I remember," said Isobel. " I was scoring and 
 very busy you kept me." 
 
 " Well, well, how splendid to see you again, and 
 recovering your strength, I hope? And what tre- 
 mendous luck for you falling into the hands of 
 friends!" 
 
 " I should rather think it was," agreed Allen with 
 enthusiasm. 
 
 " No luck about it at all," corrected Isobel. " I 
 heard he was in London, so of course he had to come 
 here." Allen beamed. " I'd have every one of my 
 friends here if I could only get hold of them," she 
 added maliciously; Allen's face fell. 
 
 " We must organize some cricket for you," went 
 on the vicar. He was proceeding to enlarge on this 
 congenial topic when his wife brought him sternly 
 back to the object of his visit. 
 
 " Is Sir Edward in? " she asked Miss FitzPeter. 
 " The vicar and I have called to see him about 
 . . ." She broke off her sentence in the middle with 
 a startling suddenness and seemed to be struggling 
 with herself. Mr. Davies, not knowing what was 
 the matter, but anxious to cover his wife's confusion, 
 hurled himself into the breach. 
 
 " Yes," he corroborated, " we feel that he ought
 
 ALF RECEIVES 169 
 
 to be told that . . ." He got no further. A 
 comical look of mingled fear and suspicion crossed 
 his face. Isobel and Allen waited for the sentence 
 to be brought to some conclusion, but in vain. 
 
 " Well," replied Isobel, when it was plain that no 
 more was forthcoming, " I believe dad is in the 
 library. I I hope nothing awful has happened 
 nobody's dead, or anything, are they?" 
 
 The vicar looked distressed. 
 
 " Oh, no, no. Nothing of that kind at all not 
 in the least. I just want to tell him that . . ." 
 
 Again there was an awkward pause. All four 
 were now plainly embarrassed. 
 
 " I'm sorry perhaps I oughtn't to have asked," 
 Isobel apologized at last. There was just a touch 
 of stiffness in her tone, and poor Mr. Davies grew 
 more troubled than ever. 
 
 " Not in the least," he protested. " Please don't 
 think that. The whole matter is simply that . . . 
 I mean to say, you see, we . . ." 
 
 A strained silence followed. 
 
 " Please come in," Isobel said coldly. " I will 
 see if dad is in." 
 
 She and her visitors went into the house, leaving 
 Allen lost in amazement. 
 
 In a moment or two Isobel returned. 
 
 ' Tell me," Allen asked in a melodramatic stage 
 whisper, " have they confessed? " 
 
 " Not a thing. What can have made them 
 behave like that? " 
 
 " I thought it was my presence that was worrying
 
 170 ALPS BUTTON 
 
 them. After all, if he's murdered his mother-in- 
 law for her lump sugar he'd hardly like to tell you 
 about it before a comparative stranger." 
 
 " Perhaps," suggested Isobel, " they've come to 
 clear up the mystery of Denmore Manor." 
 
 They both laughed. The Manor Mystery had 
 become a family jest at Dunwater. 
 
 "What's the latest about it?" 
 
 " The plot thickens," answered Isobel. " My 
 maid was full of rumors at teatime. Somebody 
 I couldn't make out who has been up to the 
 Manor and seen black men and, oh, every kind of 
 horror. Martin was quite breathless with emotion 
 when she told me about it." 
 
 " I wonder how much there is in it." 
 
 " I'd love to go and find out. Really, you know, 
 it's time some sensible person went. According to 
 the village these people might be cannibals." 
 
 " Perhaps they are." 
 
 " Well, whatever they are, I frankly own I'm 
 curious about them." 
 
 " Why don't you take me as bodyguard and call 
 on them?" 
 
 " No excuse." 
 
 " Go and ask 'em for a Red Cross subscription. 
 It's about the only house in the neighborhood you 
 haven't been to." 
 
 " D'you mean it? " Isobel asked eagerly. 
 
 " Of course I do. I'm as curious as anybody." 
 
 " Righto, then I will. To-morrow morning. 
 Don't say a word to any one, or dad may object.
 
 ALF RECEIVES 171 
 
 Meet me at the garage at eleven, and we'll sneak 
 out. You'll have to look after me like anything. 
 Bring a card-case in one hand and a revolver in the 
 other; then we'll be ready for anything. Hallo, 
 dad your visitors didn't keep you long. What 
 did they want? " 
 
 Sir Edward came out on to the terrace and 
 dropped into a chair. 
 
 "Mad!" he said meditatively. "Quite mad, 
 so far as I can see." 
 
 "Who?" 
 
 " Both of 'em." 
 
 " But what did they want? " 
 
 " That's just it. I don't know. They kept on 
 saying that they wanted to tell me something I 
 ought to know, but not a thing more would they 
 say." 
 
 He walked irritably up and down the terrace. 
 Allen and Isobel looked at each other. 
 
 " In the end," said Sir Edward, " I lost my 
 temper. I practically kicked 'em out, and I've no 
 idea now why they came. I'll go and see Davies 
 to-morrow, to see if he's recovered his sanity." 
 
 He paused in his pacing and faced them. 
 
 " By the way," he continued, " Malcolm tells me 
 that he hears in the village that Denmore is full of 
 black men, and done up like a scene from ' Chu 
 Chin Chow ' what's the matter? " 
 
 Both Allen and Isobel had had a sudden fit of 
 helpless laughter. 
 
 " What a set of gossips we all are > go on, dad."
 
 172 ALPS BUTTON 
 
 " All I was going to say," pointed out her father 
 huffily, " is that these people are obviously from the 
 East, and if so I shall be glad to cultivate their 
 acquaintance. You know how interested I am in the 
 East. Gossip, indeed! " 
 
 He shot into the house, still in a very ruffled con- 
 dition. 
 
 Isobel glanced at her watch. 
 
 " Heavens," she said, " I must fly. I've a crow 
 to pick with the War Office over the telephone 
 before dinner. Don't forget eleven to-morrow, 
 and don't tell anybody." 
 
 Allen decided that he was not likely to tell any 
 one. The mere feeling that he and Isobel shared 
 a secret was too precious for that. Every day he 
 fell more deeply in love with her, and every day he 
 felt more sure that the spoilt beauty of the illus- 
 trated papers had never existed save in the perverted 
 imaginations of unkind people. On the surface, he 
 and she had slipped easily into the old intimacy they 
 had enjoyed once before, when Isobel was a small 
 girl, but every now and then some chance word or 
 look had awakened a hope in Allen that some deeper 
 bond was being or had been formed between 
 them. 
 
 He lay in his chair pondering these and other 
 imaginings with a pleased and fatuous smile, until 
 the sight of his fellows returning reminded him that 
 dinner-time was approaching, and he went in and 
 changed from his flannels into uniform. That 
 evening they played boisterous and childish games.
 
 ALF RECEIVES 173 
 
 Isobel, looking more than usually lovely, was in a 
 mood of irresponsible gayety; and the patients, 
 catching the infection, became over-excited to such 
 an extent that the sister-in-charge (who was making 
 as much noise as any one) had to assume an official 
 demeanor and threaten to stop the revels. To Allen 
 Isobel hardly spoke a word the whole evening; and 
 if she was aware of his presence where he sat in a 
 big arm-chair in a corner of the hall she gave no sign. 
 When ten o'clock came and sister was shepherding 
 her unruly flock to bed, Isobel was not there to say 
 good night. Allen went to bed in a state of acute 
 misery, convinced that Isobel had done this on pur- 
 pose (which was the truth) and because she dis- 
 liked him (which was not the truth). He lay 
 awake pondering dismally on the incomprehensibility 
 of women. 
 
 He came down to breakfast next morning in a 
 state of anxiety, and found Isobel in the center of a 
 clamorous mob busy dealing out coffee and tea, while 
 sister dealt with the porridge queue. On his plate 
 was a folded note, which he opened. Underneath 
 a skull and cross-bones neatly executed in red ink 
 was a message : 
 
 " Meet me beneath the gnarled oak at eleven. 
 All is prepared. Be silent and secret. The pass- 
 word is ' coffee-pot ' A FRIEND." 
 
 So all was well, after all ! 
 
 Allen slipped away to the garage at the appointed
 
 174 ALF'S BUTTON 
 
 time, and found the little car, with which Isobel was 
 accustomed to terrorize the countryside, being filled 
 with petrol by an aged chauffeur. 
 
 "Who goes there?" demanded the car's owner. 
 
 " Coffee-pot," answered Allen, in sepulchral tones. 
 
 " Pass friend, and all's well. Jump in, and we'll 
 get away quick." 
 
 " Not too quick, please. I'm not in the Flying 
 Corps," pleaded Allen. But Isobel who had a 
 wide reputation as a fearsome driver let in the 
 clutch with a suddenness which nearly, sent Allen out 
 over the back of the car, and they fled down the 
 drive and disappeared amid the cheers of the few 
 patients who happened to see them. The car went 
 round the corner on one wheel at a speed which 
 would have meant certain disaster had any other 
 traffic chanced to be passing. Allen clutched at the 
 sides of his seat lest sheer centrifugal force should 
 deposit him head downwards in a ditch. 
 
 " It's all right," said Isobel reassuringly, as they 
 gathered speed on the straight road. 
 
 " I'm glad to hear it," answered Allen. " Tell 
 me when you're going to take another corner. I'm 
 glad I'm not a nerve case." 
 
 The landscape streamed past them for a space, 
 till Isobel slowed down. 
 
 " Here we are," she said. 
 
 They turned into the Manor drive, and a moment 
 later pulled up before the house. 
 
 " I'm so excited. I feel just like a cinema 
 actress," whispered Isobel.
 
 ALF RECEIVES 175- 
 
 " So'm I. I've got one hand on my revolver and 
 one on my card-case. Which d'ycm suppose will be 
 wanted? " 
 
 " Neither. You'll have to use the revolver hand 
 to ring the bell with." 
 
 " No, I shan't. Somebody's coming. Get ready 
 to fly for your life. . . . Why, it's an ordinary 
 butler!" 
 
 It was Mustapha who was the cause of Allen's 
 disappointed whisper a transformed Mustapha, 
 wearing instead of his gorgeous robes the sober black 
 of the English serving-man, and looking so villainous 
 that Allen wondered for one moment whether he 
 ought not to have brought his revolver in real 
 earnest. 
 
 "Er " said Isobel, "is Mr. er . . ." 
 
 Mustapha, casting one glance of appraising admir- 
 ation over her, did not wait for more. Bowing low 
 to Allen he signified by a sign that they were to 
 await his return, and disappeared round the angle of 
 the house. 
 
 "I I hope it's all right, " whispered Isobel a 
 little nervously. 
 
 " We can still escape," Allen pointed out. 
 
 " No, I'm going through with it. But it 
 was a black man! " 
 
 " Very," said Allen. " Probably he'd look less of 
 a villain in his native dress." 
 
 " I hope so, I'm sure." 
 
 On a lawn at the south side of the house stood two 
 long chairs above which the blue smoke from two
 
 176 ALFS BUTTON 
 
 pipes curled heavenwards. On one lay Bill, with 
 the faithful Lucy still curled up at his feet; on the 
 other was the soi-disant Mr. Wentworth. Both had 
 changed from the ceremonious raiment of the pre- 
 vious day, and now appeared in the role of gentle- 
 men of leisure. Bill was gorgeous in a red-and- 
 black blazer, white trousers, and brown-and-white 
 canvas shoes; but Alf as befitted the lord of the 
 Manor outshone him by far. He had a straw 
 hat with a gaudy black-and-yellow ribbon; a Nor- 
 folk coat in the bold black-and-white check; and 
 trousers and shoes like Bill's. A stiffly-starched 
 collar nestled furtively behind a satin tie of aggres- 
 sive color and immutable form. But the crowning 
 glory of the whole get-up was a strange garment 
 a cross between a cummerbund and a dress-waistcoat 
 which encircled his middle and supported a gold 
 albert watchchain ornamented with many dangling 
 seals. 
 
 By the side of each chair stood an inlaid stool 
 bearing each an enormous flagon of silver. As 
 Mustapha approached the little group, an arm ap- 
 peared from each chair, and the two flagons were 
 simultaneously lifted, were inverted for a space and 
 were replaced simultaneously on the stools. Bill's 
 voice spoke estatically. 
 
 "Bit of all right, eh?" 
 
 Alf grunted. Not even his consciousness of sar- 
 torial perfection could cheer him up. He was 
 brooding darkly on the probable results of the lib- 
 erty he had taken with the Davies family, and was
 
 ALF RECEIVES 177 
 
 fast working himself into a panic. All his experi- 
 ence of Eustace's enchantments filled him with pro- 
 found misgivings; and in the circumstances Bill's 
 soulless and unsympathetic delight in the ephemeral 
 pleasures of the moment infuriated him. 
 
 " Cheer up, mate," said Bill. " What's the mat- 
 ter now? Still off it because the ole lady told you 
 off? You've stopped 'er mouth, any'ow." 
 
 ' Well, an' even if I 'ave, 'ow much better are 
 we then? We might sit 'ere for a year, an' never 
 get nearer doin' anything than we are now. 'Ow 
 are we goin' to get to know a toff like ole Sir Fitz- 
 Peter, eh? 'Ow can we. . . . 'Ullo, Farr, what 
 is it now? " 
 
 " Lord, there stand&th at thy door one desiring 
 entrance; and verily he bringeth with him a maiden 
 possessing the rarest beauty, so that if her mind and 
 attainments be but of a piece with her fairness of 
 face, not less than ten thousand pieces of gold would 
 be her price." 
 
 Alf gaped at him. 
 
 " I don't know what the 'ell you think you're 
 talkin' about, Farr," he said at length. " But bring 
 'ooever it is along 'ere." 
 
 Mustapha bowed and retreated. 
 
 " If there's a lady in the case," said Bill, " Lucy 
 'ad better cut away. 'Ere! skedaddle, Lucy 
 quick! You ain't dressed for company." 
 
 Lucy departed disconsolately for the house, quite 
 unable to understand why she was thus dismissed. 
 In her lord's honor she had put on her most striking
 
 178 ALPS BUTTON 
 
 finery. She had touched up her eyes with kohl, her 
 cheeks with carmine and her finger-tips with henna. 
 She was comfortably conscious of looking her best. 
 Why, then, was she dismissed the Presence? 
 
 '"Ere," called Bill after her, "not that way; 
 you'll run right into 'em . . . Lumme, 'ere they 
 come. . . . Why, Alf it's 'er your girl . . . 
 an' an' Lootenant Allen with 'er. 'E'd know me 
 for sure. I'm off." 
 
 And while Isobel and Allen were occupied in gaz- 
 ing speechlessly after Lucy's disappearing form, Bill 
 beat a panic-stricken and precipitate retreat into the 
 rose-garden. Alf, unnerved almost as much by the 
 unlooked-for good fortune which brought Isobel to 
 him as by the embarrassment of having to face his old 
 platoon-commander, turned to receive his visitors. 
 
 " I hope you will excuse us, Mr. ..." 
 
 " Wentworth," supplied Alf. He was getting 
 used to his new name now. 
 
 " Mr. Wentworth, for bursting in upon you in 
 this way. I am Miss FitzPeter, and this is Mr. Al- 
 len." Alf, quaking at the knees, shook hands with 
 his late commander. He felt, in spite of his clean- 
 shaved upper lip, that nothing could prevent his de- 
 tection now; but Allen gave no sign of recognition. 
 Indeed, he hardly looked at Mr. Wentworth's face 
 at all in his delighted examination of his clothes. 
 
 Isobel, struggling with herself, went straight to 
 the point. Only by doing this, she felt, could she 
 stifle the demon of laughter within her; and if she 
 chanced to catch Allen's eye nothing could save her.
 
 ALF RECEIVES 179 
 
 " I'm afraid I've come on business, Mr. Went- 
 worth. Worse than that, on begging business. I'm 
 collecting for a Red Cross hospital which is being 
 started at Anston. It's such a good object and they 
 do need funds so badly and I wondered would 
 you be so kind anything will do. . . ." 
 
 She concluded with her famous smile which had 
 in another life done yeoman service to the country at 
 flag-days and bazaars. Alf, whose obfuscated intel- 
 lect had been groping wildly for a meaning in her 
 elliptical remarks, suddenly understood. Here was 
 a chance for a display of his wealth. Fate was in- 
 deed playing into his hands. 
 
 " Farr," he said, " go an' get some money." 
 
 Mustapha, who had all this while been gazing 
 upon Isobel with lively and increasing satisfaction, 
 was much pleased to find that this lovely " slave " 
 had found favor in his master's eyes. He went off 
 joyfully to the house to obey Alf's command, and in 
 a few moments he returned followed by six female 
 slaves. Isobel and Allen, whose hopes had been 
 raised by their glimpse of the polychromatic Lucy, 
 were disappointed to find that these were clad in 
 sober black, relieved only by the neatest of caps and 
 aprons. But this only threw into greater prom- 
 inence their un-English appearance. 
 
 Each of the six carried a bulky bag. Mustapha, 
 coming forward, laid a cloth upon the ground at Al- 
 len's feet, >and made a sign to the first slave. She 
 approached, and having (with much crackling of her 
 apron) made a deep obeisance, poured out upon the
 
 i8o ALFS BUTTON 
 
 cloth a jingling, flashing stream of gold coins. Then 
 she bowed once more to the earth and retired. 
 
 Allen and Isobel, who for three years or so had 
 seen no gold except an occasional stray half-sover- 
 eign, stared as though hypnotized; but Alf was the 
 most astonished of the three. Nobody seemed capa- 
 ble of speaking a word. Mustapha, interpreting 
 their silence to mean that the sum offered was not 
 large enough, signed to the second slave; and the 
 glittering heap was forthwith doubled. 
 
 " But," said Allen at last, recovering his power 
 of speech with an effort, " we we can't take this. 
 You know we can't." 
 
 " No, sir," agreed Alf unhappily. " It's all a 
 mistal^ib. 'Ere, Farr, this won't do, you know." 
 
 " Verily, master, if thou didst offer t.0 this mer- 
 chant all the gold that is in the six bags, it would 
 not be an over-payment; for verily mine eyes have 
 not looked upon so fair a slave." 
 
 He signed once more, and the four remaining bags 
 were emptied on to the pile. 
 
 " Heavens," said Isobel, suddenly realizing 
 Mustapha's meaning, " he thinks . . ." 
 
 " Yes, confound him, he does," replied Allen 
 indignantly. " Not much doubt about the Oriental 
 there ! " He glanced angrily at the puzzled 
 Mustapha. " While as for the question of gold- 
 hoarding . . ." 
 
 Alf caught the last word. 
 
 " S'welp me, sir," he said earnestly, " I never 
 knew 'e 'ad it, I swear I didn't. 'Ere, Farr, where
 
 ALF RECEIVES 181 
 
 the blue blazes did you get all this coin from? 
 Don't you know there's a war on?" 
 
 " Lord," replied Mustapha with pardonable 
 pride, and not comprehending in the least what the 
 true position was, " this is but the smallest part of 
 the riches that lie heaped in thy treasury, the full 
 extent whereof no man may count. Therefore 
 chaffer not with this merchant, but pay him that 
 which he asks; for in truth the maid is passing fair. 
 Her lips . . ." 
 
 " That'll be about enough from you," roared 
 Allen with sudden fury. Mustapha, his eulogy 
 checked in mid-surge, retreated a pace or two in 
 alarm, while Alf, obeying subconsciously the ring of 
 authority in -the tone, came to attention. Luckily, 
 however, his lapse was not noticed; and he remem- 
 bered his status as a country gentleman and put his 
 hands in his pockets. 
 
 " 'Ere," he said to Mustapha, who was still 
 unequal to the intellectual pressure of the conversa- 
 tion, " take that stuff back where it came from. An' 
 look 'ere, Farr, you got to get every last farthing o' 
 gold in the place changed into notes right off. An' 
 if I catch any more 'oardin' goin' on . . ." He 
 broke off and turned to his guests. " If you'll be so 
 good, miss and sir, as to step into the 'ouse, I'll 'ave 
 it brought to you in notes." 
 
 " Thank you," said Isobel feebly. She followed 
 Alf into the house with eager anticipation, but at the 
 same time wondering how much more she could bear 
 without giving way to hysterics.
 
 182 ALPS BUTTON 
 
 Since Mrs. Davies' visit Alf and Bill had done 
 their honest best to introduce into Eustace's exclu- 
 sively Oriental scheme a touch of that " 'omeyness " 
 which it had so obviously lacked. As a result, the 
 jeweled magnificence of the original scheme now 
 served as a back-ground to an impression of solid 
 mid-Victorian comfort. Plush-covered chairs and 
 sofas now abounded; so did clumsy and top-heavy 
 side-boards, draped mirrors and lace curtains. 
 Mats of hot, black fur reenforced the priceless Per- 
 sian rugs; a stuffed bird in a glass case stood in each 
 window; and the walls were covered with a choice 
 selection of colored " presentation plates " in 
 heavily gilded frames. The whole effect was as 
 though some rather dissipated roysterer, returning 
 from a fancy dress ball in the robes of a gorgeous 
 caliph, had protected them from the weather by the 
 addition of a frock-coat. 
 
 Isobel, who had expected a stage setting of the' 
 " Chu Chin Chow " order, was utterly unprepared 
 for the improvements. She sat down suddenly on 
 the nearest plush monstrosity and looked about her. 
 Her mouth was firm, but her eyes filled gradually 
 with tears; and she knew that if she looked at Allen 
 she would disgrace herself. 
 
 But now, fortunately for both of them, Alf, full 
 of determination not to let slip this golden oppor- 
 tunity of impressing his lady, bustled out of the 
 room to summon the much-enduring Eustace and 
 explain to him the nature and functions of paper 
 currency. Allen and Isobel, watching his departure
 
 ALF RECEIVES 183 
 
 anxiously, just managed to preserve their self-control 
 until he had gone; but then the floods of laughter 
 burst forth irresistibly. They wallowed breath- 
 lessly, feebly wiping their streaming eyes. After a 
 time Isobel managed to pull herself partially 
 together and to sit up; but the sight and sound of 
 Allen, who was at full length on a sofa gasping like 
 a fish and quaking like a jelly, set her off again. It 
 was a shameless spectacle. 
 
 But by the time Alf came back two weak but 
 happy people were gravely examining the decorations, 
 and were even far enough recovered to be able to 
 congratulate their host on his taste without a quiver. 
 
 " You have been in the East, I suppose, Mr. 
 Wentworth? " asked Isobel. 
 
 " I went to Yarmouth once," said Alf. 
 
 " Ah, yes. But I mean the Orient. Egypt 
 Persia India." 
 
 " Oh ! " Alf caught the allusion and began to 
 fidget. The conversation seemed to be taking an 
 awkward turn. " You mean this 'ere? " he asked, 
 waving a comprehensive hand about him. " I can't 
 say as I've ever been in them parts meself like, but 
 them as did the 'ouse up for me comes from there. 
 I 'ad it brought over regardless. Only they didn't 
 'ave much furniture, an' no pictures, so I 'ad to 
 order them meself. That's a nice thing, now." 
 He pointed to a glaring lithograph depicting a dog 
 of no known breed 'being mauled by a small child 
 apparently in the advanced stages of scarlet fever. 
 It was called " Happy Playmates."
 
 184 ALPS BUTTON 
 
 " Always been fond o' that from a boy, I 'ave," he 
 said. 
 
 " Very nice," agreed Isobel gravely. " What do 
 you think, Denis?" She slipped a hand inside his 
 arm and gave it a delighted little squeeze. 
 
 " Charming! " His voice shook ever so little, 
 but he had completely regained control of his expres- 
 sion. 
 
 Alf judged that the time had arrived to bring 
 his heavy batteries into action. He produced from 
 his pockets a little bundle of notes, and handed them 
 to Isobel. 
 
 " There, miss," he said in admirably casual tones, 
 " a little something for your 'orsepital." 
 
 " Thank you so much," said Isobel, smiling at him. 
 " It's most kind of you. Denis, would you . . .? " 
 
 She glanced at the packet in her hand, and her 
 voice trailed away in speechless surprise. Then she 
 offered the notes back to Alf. 
 
 "Surely," she gasped, "there's some mistake?" 
 
 Alf glowed; when Isobel had taken his "little 
 something " so casually he had for one moment been 
 afraid that his coup had failed that in spite of his 
 increasing confidence in Eustace's powers, he had not 
 been " wholesale " enough; he was thankful to find 
 that this was not so. 
 
 " Quite all right, miss," he said jauntily. 
 
 " But but they are thousand-pound notes ! I 
 can't I really can't allow . . ." 
 
 Allen opened his eyes wide in astonishment. 
 
 " If you please, miss," said Alf earnestly, " I
 
 ALF RECEIVES 185 
 
 shall be most honored if you'll 'ang on to I should 
 say keep the 'ole lot." 
 
 Isobel, looking slightly dazed, went through the 
 notes in her hand. There were ten notes, each for 
 a thousand pounds. She laid them on the table 
 beside her. 
 
 " Thank you very much indeed, Mr. Wentworth," 
 she said, " but really, it's quite impossible . . ." 
 
 " I can spare it easy. It's nothing to me, I give 
 you my word. If you'd just take it to oblige me, 
 like, I shall be much obliged. I shall really." 
 
 " But I don't understand why you should want to 
 do this." 
 
 Here was a splendid chance of advancing his 
 cause with a telling compliment. Bill would have 
 taken it, Alf felt, at once ; he himself simply shuffled 
 his feet and went very red. 
 
 " It's just to oblige me," he said shamefacedly. 
 " I'd I'd like you to 'ave it." 
 
 Isobel suddenly realized that this eccentric little 
 man meant the money to be the token of a personal 
 tribute to herself. She took the topmost note. 
 
 " Mr. Wentworth," she said in a gentle voice, 
 " I couldn't possibly take all that money from any 
 one. It's far more than the fund is trying to collect, 
 and there are other things which need money so 
 badly. But I will take this, and thank you most 
 tremendously." 
 
 She put out her hand, and Alf, still very red, 
 grasped it so heartily that she winced. Then he 
 followed his visitors to the front door. As Isobel
 
 186 ALFS BUTTON 
 
 cranked up (declining Allen's proffered help with a 
 stern reminder that he was an invalid) Alf realized 
 that something still remained to be done. He must 
 not let Isobel go without arranging for a future 
 meeting. He must strike while the iron was hot. 
 
 " Could you would you an' yer pa step in some 
 day an' 'ave a bit o' something to eat? " he blurted 
 out. 
 
 " I'm sure he'd be delighted," said she impulsively. 
 The little man's earnestness had quite melted her for 
 the time being, and she committed Sir Edward with- 
 out a thought. " He is so interested in everything 
 that comes from the East. Come to tea with us on 
 Friday and ask him yourself." 
 
 She nodded, and disappeared in a cloud of dust. 
 
 Alf watched her out of sight, and turned to find 
 Mustapha at his elbow. 
 
 " Farr," he said excitedly, " that's the young lady 
 what I'm going to marry. I'm goin' to 'ave tea 
 with 'er father on Friday. What d'you think o' 
 that?" 
 
 " Lord," said Mustapha, " all shall be prepared." 
 
 Alf dashed upstairs to Bill without considering 
 what it was that Mustapha was going to prepare. 
 
 Bill listened unmoved to his friend's narrative. 
 
 " Did Lootenant Allen reckernize you? " he asked 
 at the end. 
 
 " No more 'n nothin'. Look 'ere, you don't seem 
 to take it in. I'm goin' round to tea on Friday." 
 
 "I 'card. What did I tell yer?" asked Bill 
 cynically. " It's all a matter o' money. All you
 
 ALF RECEIVES 183 
 
 got to do now is pile on the swank for pa FitzP., an' 
 you'll be 'is dearly beloved son-in-law before we 
 know where we are. What oh ! " 
 
 Bill closed his eyes and seemed to indulge in a 
 beatific vision. Alf did not share his sublime con- 
 fidence, but even he felt that the campaign had now 
 made a really auspicious start. 
 
 When the car was out of sight of the Manor, 
 Allen once more fell a victim of paroxysms of 
 laughter. 
 
 " Go slow, for Heaven's sake," he gasped, " or 
 I shall fall out." 
 
 " Stop it ! " Isobel commanded sharply. " Stop 
 it at once. I won't have that poor little man 
 sneered at. I think he's a dear, so there." 
 
 " Cupboard love," Allen retorted, wiping his 
 streaming eyes. " He hasn't given me a million 
 pounds for the Red Cros-s and he hasn't asked me to 
 dinner, so I'm free to laugh if I want to. Those 
 clothes . . . and that furniture . . . ! If I'd 
 caught your eye again I should have had a fit." 
 
 Isobel laughed a little herself. 
 
 "Who can he be?" she asked. "It's rather 
 dreadful that a common little uneducated Cockney 
 like that should have all that money, isn't it? And 
 did you see his friend, who bolted when we 
 arrived? " 
 
 ' Yes a shy bird in gorgeous plumage. D'yoii 
 know, I'm sure I've seen that chap Wentworth some- 
 where before, or some one just like him."
 
 i88 ALPS BUTTON 
 
 " That's funny. I felt just the same. Who can 
 it be?" 
 
 " Wait a bit it's coming to me. Why, of 
 course, I've got it. If he had a mustache, he'd be 
 the living image of a silly ass in my platoon, Higgins 
 by name, and so ... I say, what's the matter? " 
 
 The car gave a violent double lurch as Isobel 
 momentarily seemed to lose control of the steering- 
 wheel. Luckily they were traveling very slowly. 
 Allen leant across her and stopped the car. 
 
 " Iso," he said, unconsciously using the affectionate 
 abbreviation for the first time, " whatever's the mat- 
 ter? Are you ill? You're as white as a ghost." 
 
 She ignored his question. 
 
 ' Tell me," she said, " had you really a man in 
 your platoon called Higgins? " 
 
 "Yes but why . . .?" 
 
 " And is he really like this Wentworth man? " 
 
 " Yes. But you can't have seen him." 
 
 " Only only in a dream." 
 
 "What!" 
 
 " Oh, I know it sounds mad to you; but I had the 
 most dreadful vivid dream about being at the front. 
 I was being shown round the trenches by a couple 
 of Tommies I'd always said I wanted to see 
 them, you know. I didn't realize ... it was 
 awful. . . . One of the two Tommies was just like 
 Mr. Wentworth, and was called Higgins. The 
 other's name was wait a bit oh, yes, Grant. 
 And then you came into it and . . . Denis, don't 
 look like that!"
 
 ALF RECEIVES 189 
 
 "Grant?" echoed he hoarsely. "Why, it must 
 have been. . . . Iso, shall I tell you what you said 
 to me when I came round the corner of the trench? " 
 
 Her eyes dilated; she caught at his arm and 
 nodded silently. 
 
 " You said, ' It must be a dream. If it isn't, I 
 can't bear it! ' Was that it? " 
 
 She nodded again. She could not speak. Allen 
 felt a strange dryness in his throat. He put his arm 
 round Isobel, and she leant against him trembling. 
 
 "Then then you disappeared. I thought I 
 must have been seeing things, but but. . . ." 
 
 " It was real," she whispered. " I knew it was, 
 somehow. That's why I came here to work 
 that's why I brought you here. Denis I'm 
 frightened. What does it all mean? " 
 
 " Mean? " repeated Allen. " My darling, you're 
 shaking like a leaf. What can it mean but this ? " 
 
 They kissed. . . . Years later, it seemed, Isobel 
 caught sight of Allen's wrist-watch, and came sud- 
 denly back to earth. 
 
 " We must simply fly," she said. " Thank 
 Heaven there was nobody on the road to see us. 
 No, Denis, you mustn't. We must get back. . . . 
 Oh, well, then . . ." 
 
 They kissed once more, blissfully unconscious that 
 a pair of youthful but malicious eyes had been drink- 
 ing in every detail of the scene, or that when the car 
 had proceeded on its way hopelessly late for 
 lunch Bobby Myers scrambled out of the hedge 
 and scurried hot-foot to entrust this precious infor-
 
 igo ALPS BUTTON 
 
 mation to the safe keeping of Mrs. Rudd. By tea- 
 time there was not a soul in the entire neighborhood 
 who had not heard the news, with the exception of 
 the isolated and deeply suspected inhabitants of Den- 
 more Manor.
 
 CHAPTER XIII 
 
 P.C. JOBLING INVESTIGATES 
 
 TTUMPH," said Mrs. Rudd the post-mistress, 
 X. JL " lot o' good the police force is, I don't think, 
 ain't they? " 
 
 The police force shuffled its feet and looked un- 
 comfortable. 
 
 " Well, now, auntie," it began mildly, " I don't 
 see 'ow . . ." 
 
 " None o' yer ' Well, now auntie ' for me, please. 
 Are you policeman in this 'ere village or are you 
 not? answer me that." 
 
 " O' course I am." 
 
 " Well then, 'ere's a lot o' 'eathen foreign nigger 
 German spies gettin' ready to murder us all in our 
 beds under our noses, an' 'ere you sit and do nothin'. 
 I'm ashamed of you, Artie, I am. You go spendin' 
 all yer time with yer nose in detective stories, an' 
 dreamin' about the promotion you're goin' to get; an' 
 now you get a real fine chance o' detectin' something 
 an' runnin' a lot of shady foreigners in, an' all you 
 do is twiddle yer great silly thumbs an' say, ' Well, 
 now, auntie ' ! " 
 
 " But 'ow can I go to the 'ouse? " wailed the sole 
 representative of law and order in Denmore miser- 
 ably. " You can't take a man up 'cause 'e's a 
 foreigner." 
 
 " No, worse luck." Mrs. Rudd considered that irt 
 
 191
 
 192 ALPS BUTTON 
 
 any properly-governed state a law to that effect 
 would have been made long ago. " But you can 
 take 'im up for 'oardin' food. It ain't for me to 
 teach you yer own job, ,Artie Jobling; if I was police- 
 man 'ere I'd pretty soon think out a way to get into 
 that 'ouse an' 'ave a look round. 'Ow did the ones 
 in them books o' yours do it? " 
 
 " Disguised theirselves gen'rally," said Artie 
 without enthusiasm, " an' went an' walked out with 
 the maids." 
 
 " Well, why don't you do that? " 
 
 " I ain't no 'and at disguises," sighed Artie, gazing 
 sadly at his regulation boots. " I sh'd 'ave all the 
 kids in the village runnin' arter me." 
 
 Mrs. Rudd followed the direction of her nephew's 
 eyes, and forbore to press the point further. 
 
 " Besides," resumed P.C. Jobling after a little 
 reflection, " they say that the maids in this 'ere 'ouse 
 is niggers, an' none too respectable at that. 'Orrible 
 things might 'appen." 
 
 He brooded darkly on the possibility. 
 
 " Well, if you don't do something we shall 'ave 
 'orrible things 'appening any'ow," said Mrs. Rudd. 
 " Sure as fate we'll all be murdered. I was saying 
 to-day to Mrs. Green . . ." 
 
 " If I went," interrupted Artie, struck with a new 
 thought, " they might murder me." 
 
 " They might," agreed his aunt, " an' they might 
 not. Any'ow, that's what you're 'ere for, Artie. If 
 anybody in this village is to be murdered it ought to 
 be you, Artie. It's your plain dooty. If you ain't
 
 P.C. JOBLING INVESTIGATES 193 
 
 goin' to do it, you ought to be in the trenches." 
 
 Constable Jobling stared at her without a word. 
 This view of his mission in life had never been 
 brought to his notice before. Apparently it dis- 
 concerted him no little. 
 
 " Lot o' good the police force is when anything 
 does 'appen." Mrs. Rudd returned with freshness 
 and vigor to her original line of argument. " An' 
 a lot o' promotion you'll get, my lad. Why, I'd 
 make a better policeman'n you out o' a turnip-top an' 
 a broom 'andle any day. Why 'ere's Mrs. Green." 
 
 The door-latch clicked, and Mrs. Green of the 
 general stores entered. " 'Ere, Maria," said Mrs. 
 Rudd, " I was just tellin' young Artie . . ." 
 
 But young Artie had had enough. He tramped 
 heavily out, slammed the post-office door behind him, 
 and retired to his own cottage to brood on the cursed 
 spite which had selected him to minister to times so 
 out of joint. 
 
 For ten days or more the whole village had been 
 in a ferment over the strange people and stranger 
 doings at the Manor. The fact that neither the 
 vicar nor his wife, who had been seen to leave the 
 place, could be induced to say a word of what they 
 had seen, only deepened the dark and formless sus- 
 picions held in the neighborhood. Jobling had had 
 an increasingly strong idea that the public opinion of 
 him as a smart and ambitious young member of a dis- 
 tinguished body was gradually changing, but his out- 
 spoken aunt was the first person to put this new feel- 
 ing into words and to force the unfortunate police-
 
 194 ALPS BUTTON 
 
 man to look facts in the face. He was frightened of 
 the unknown murdering heathens who might possibly 
 lurk in ambush for him in the grounds of Denmore 
 Manor, but he was even more frightened of the 
 known and well-tried power of his aunt's tongue. 
 He sat behind the curtains in his cottage and gave 
 himself up to melancholy thought. 
 
 Before long he saw Mrs. Green, her chat with the 
 post-mistress concluded, coming up the street. She 
 met with another decrepit old dame, and the two 
 began to discuss some choice piece of scandal with 
 great animation. Mrs. Green closed her peroration 
 by pointing at Jobling's window and shaking her 
 head sorrowfully. The other lady also shook her 
 head and doddered off up the street, where she could 
 be seen a few moments later in deep and direful con- 
 verse with her dearest friend. 
 
 Jobling knew the signs. Unless he did something, 
 and quickly, he was a marked man. But how could 
 he push himself into a house without a pretext? 
 Failing the subtle methods of the detective of fiction, 
 what reason could a large but timid policeman find 
 for penetrating into a nest of probably dangerous 
 criminals without giving them offense? 
 
 The problem remained unsolved all day, and 
 troubled him so much that at night he found himself 
 attracted to the place by a sort of morbid fascination. 
 Twice, greatly daring, he walked up and down the 
 strip of road on which the Manor grounds fronted; 
 and then, turning down an unfrequented lane, he 
 reached a corner which was the only spot not actually
 
 P.C. JOBLING INVESTIGATES 195 
 
 in the grounds from which the Manor could be seen. 
 He hardly knew why he had come there, as it was a 
 dark, moonless night, and he could not expect to see 
 as far as the house. But when he reached the corner 
 and looked across the fields, the whole building was 
 blazing with lights, standing out pitilessly against the 
 decorous war-time gloom. P.C. Jobling heaved a 
 sigh of relief and went home with his problem solved. 
 He would call on Mr. Wentworth on the morrow 
 and would point out to him politely, but firmly, that 
 he must not show bright lights at night. Not even 
 the most murdering of heathens, or the most heathen 
 of murderers, he felt, could take exception to that. 
 
 Next day, however, the prospect looked less 
 bright. He was not quite so sure that his reception 
 would be peaceable. He pictured himself penetrat- 
 ing into the fastnesses of the Manor arid never again 
 coming out never, that is, alive. He decided 
 that he would let his aunt know where he was going; 
 then he could at least be sure that he would not die 
 quite unavenged. Then, on second thoughts, he de- 
 termined to say nothing about it. If he did, he 
 would be tied down definitely to a venture of which 
 he disliked the idea more and more. He put on his 
 helmet and walked majestically through the village, 
 to restore his self-respect. Unfortunately for his 
 purpose, the first person he met was Master Bobby 
 Myers, who since his exploit of climbing over the 
 Manor w'all had regarded himself as no small hero. 
 
 "Yah!" said Bobby with derision. '"Go's 
 afraid of niggers? "
 
 196 ALPS BUTTON 
 
 Outwardly Jobling did not deign to notice this 
 insult, but it struck deep all the same. He strode 
 back through the village and burst into the little 
 post-office. 
 
 " Auntie," he said loudly, " I'm goin' up to the 
 Manor to-day to 'ave a look round." 
 
 " An' about time too," replied his aunt in acid 
 tones. 
 
 But there were several people present, and it was 
 obvious that P.C. Jobling's resolution had caused the 
 general opinion to veer round once again in his favor. 
 
 " Good lad," said an aged gentleman. " Find out 
 all you can. Thieves an' robbers they'll be, I 
 reckon. Tell p'liceman what you 'eard, Mary." 
 
 Mary, one of the maids at Dunwater Park, spoke 
 up, pleased at occupying a position of public impor- 
 tance. 
 
 " They're gold hoarders, Mr. Jobling," she said. 
 " The mistress an' Lootenant Allen was there yester- 
 day an' saw it." 
 
 " Ah," put in somebody, " an' where do they get 
 their food from, eh? Not in the village, nor yet 
 from London. You go an' 'ave a look round, Artie. 
 an' if you come back all right you'll be made a 
 sergeant." 
 
 "Why shouldn't I come back all right?" de- 
 manded Artie, with a chill at his spine. u Miss Fitz- 
 Peter did." 
 
 " She's quality they wouldn't dare touch *er." 
 
 P.C. Jobling returned to his cottage in a despond- 
 ent mood. There was no going back for him now
 
 P.C. JOBLING INVESTIGATES 197 
 
 he had burnt his boats. All the old ladies of the 
 allage would be on duty behind the curtained win- 
 dows to see him start on his quest. Struck with self- 
 compassion he prepared himself a more than usually 
 lavish meal, just in case it should be his last. Then 
 he smoked a reflective pipe. The sun was hot, and a 
 comfortable drowsiness began to steal over him. . . 
 His head nodded. . . . For a second or two he 
 dozed off. . . . Then, suddenly wakeful, he put on 
 his helmet and started out, feeling every inch a hero. 
 The village street was deserted except for a dog 
 asleep in the very middle of it; but Jobling knew 
 that he was performing under the eyes of an apprais- 
 ing and critical public. He walked as jauntily as his 
 official boots would allow, his head well back and his 
 chest well out. 
 
 As soon as he was clear of the village, however, 
 and had reached the stretch of lonely road leading to 
 the Manor gates, his pace slackened and his chest 
 deflated suddenly. He began to recall all the wild 
 and vaguely terrific rumors about the people at Den- 
 more and his heroism oozed slowly out of his back- 
 bone. When he came at last in sight of the gates 
 themselves, he stopped stock still on the road and 
 wrestled fiercely with himself. 
 
 Supposing he turned tail now, would he ever be 
 able to live it down in the village? He thought of 
 his aunt's tongue of Mrs. Green's wicked old 
 face as she talked to her wicked old crony in the 
 street of Bobby Myers' taunt, and he knew that 
 whatever lay before him would be the lesser of two 

 
 198 ALFS BUTTON 
 
 evils. He reached the gates and paused once more, 
 as though he could see written above them in letters 
 of fire " All hope abandon, ye who enter here." 
 Then with shaking knees he passed in and up the 
 gloomy avenue. 
 
 Alf chanced to be looking out of a window over- 
 looking the drive, and saw him as he turned the 
 corner. 
 
 " Lumme ! " he called to Bill. " The police ! " 
 
 " Let 'em," responded Bill lazily. He was lying 
 back on a long chair, with his beloved flagon beside 
 him; and the indefatigable Lucy, garbed like Solo- 
 mon in all his glory, was fanning him with enthu- 
 siasm. " Let 'em," he repeated, and closed <his eyes 
 happily. 
 
 " But look 'ere, what can 'e want? An' 'sposin' 
 'e wants to know 'oo we are? " 
 
 " Tell 'im," said Bill, " Mr. Wentworth an' 'is 
 friend, Mr. Montmorency, of Denmore Manor." 
 
 " But if 'e wants to see our papers? " 
 
 Bill sat up with a spasm of energy. 
 
 'What's it matter what 'e wants, you chump? 
 You're a blinkin' landowner now, an' p'licemen don't 
 matter. Be 'aughty with 'im an' kick 'im out." 
 
 11 You'd better see 'im, Bill." 
 
 " Me?" Bill sank back once more on his cush- 
 ions. " Why should I do yer dirty work? I'm 
 quite comfortable as I am. See 'im yerself, an' be 
 'aughty with 'im. Call 'im ' My man ' ! Probably 
 'e wants a subscription. Give 'im 'arf-a-crown. 
 On'y you'd better 'urry down before Mustapha gets
 
 P.C. JOBLING INVESTIGATES 199 
 
 'old of 'im an' gives 'im a few bags o' gold; that'd 
 put us fair in the cart. Keep the fan goin', Lucy, my 
 dear." 
 
 Alf tore down the stairs and met P.C. Jobling on 
 the steps of the Manor. Each made great outward 
 show of boldness, but it would be difficult to say 
 which felt less bold in his heart. There was an 
 awkward pause. 
 
 U W w well," said Alf at last, mindful of 
 Bill's advice. " Wh what can I do for you er 
 my man? " 
 
 The words were haughty enough to show the most 
 imposing of policemen his position in the scheme of 
 things; but the tone in which they were uttered 
 entirely spoilt their effect. P.C. Jobling took heart 
 of grace and puffed out his admirably developed 
 chest. 
 
 " It is my dooty to inform you, sir, that you 'ave 
 several exceedingly bright lights showin' from yer 
 'ouse at nights, contrary to regulations." 
 
 " I'm I'm sorry," stammered Alf, relieved that 
 the policeman had come on so trivial an errand, but 
 disturbed at having incurred the notice of the Law. 
 " If you'll wait 'arf a second I'll 'ave my butler in 
 an' tick 'im orf for it. 'Ere, miss," he said to a 
 dusky but decorously clad maidservant, " send Mr. 
 Farr. Savvy?" 
 
 The maid, catching the name, sped off. P.C. 
 Jobling, feeling now quite reassured that his life was 
 in no danger, began to sigh (like Alexander the 
 Great) for fresh worlds to conquer. He knew that
 
 200 ALPS BUTTON 
 
 if he penetrated no further than the Manor's outer 
 defenses it would go hard with him when next he 
 faced 'his aunt. 
 
 He took off his helmet and mopped his moist 
 brow. 
 
 " 'Ot day, ain't it, sir? " he said. 
 
 Alf, whose chief rule in life had been always to 
 keep on the right side of the law, swallowed the 
 bait whole. 
 
 " It is 'ot," he agreed. " 'Ow'd a glass o' beer 
 be, eh?" 
 
 " You're very kind, sir." 
 
 " Not a bit not a bit, my man." This time 
 the tone was much better. " Farr," he continued 
 as that functionary appeared. " 'Ere's the police 
 been about the lights. It's quite time as you knew 
 as 'ow we don't 'ave to show no lights at night. 
 'Ave 'em covered to-night, or I'll know the reason 
 why. An' bring this gentleman a pint of beer." 
 
 Mustapha bowed gravely and departed. Now 
 was the crafty Jobling's opportunity. 
 
 " Oh, no, sir," he said. " I couldn't let 'im 'ave 
 all that trouble, sir, I'll go into the kitchen myself, 
 sir." 
 
 He was across the hall before Alf recovered his 
 wits. The master of Denmore was exceedingly 
 proud of his kitchens, but he realized in a flash that 
 no minion of the law must be allowed to gaze upon 
 them. The Manor kitchens were of noble propor- 
 tions the banqueting hall had been built to seat 
 200 people, and the cooking accommodation was on
 
 P.C. JOBLING INVESTIGATES 201 
 
 the same generous scale but they were none too 
 big for Alf's enormous retinue. Crowds of dusky 
 workers were ceaselessly engaged on the preparation 
 of the sumptuous banquets which Messrs. Montmor- 
 ency and Wentworth failed dismally to appreciate; 
 and there was an air of bustle and lavishness and 
 reckless waste about the whole assembly. Butchers 
 might be seen forever slicing up carcasses of meat; 
 pastry cooks and confectioners were endlessly intent 
 on the concoction of wonderful dainties; scullions 
 ceaselessly carried away buckets whose contents bore 
 witness to an utter disregard of the principles of 
 economy and the possibility of by-products. Even 
 Alf, who knew that his foodstuffs were drawn from 
 stocks not under the control of any government offi^ 
 cial, had felt a twinge of conscience when he had 
 gazed upon the scene. And now the round eyes of 
 P.C. Arthur Jobling would be taking in its details; 
 and if something were not done very quickly, the 
 official notebook of P.C. Arthur Jobling would be 
 taking those details in to ... and then . . . 
 
 Alf snatched at the Button and rubbed it. 
 
 " Eustace," he commanded tersely. " Take that 
 blinkin' policeman out of the kitchen an' put 'im back 
 where 'e came from." 
 
 " Lord, I hear and obey." 
 
 Eustace was gone. 
 
 " 'Ope 'e 'asn't seen too much already," solilo- 
 quized Alf. " 'Owever, it's done now, an' I don't 
 suppose 'e'll come back 'ere in a 'urry. Better be 
 on the safe side, though. Mustapha, tell 'em to be t
 
 202 ALPS BUTTON 
 
 bit more careful in the kitchen, will you? If the 
 Food Controller comes there'll be 'ell on." 
 
 Mustapha did not quite get the hang of this 
 remark; but he did gather that the kitchens under 
 his care were being adversely criticised. He 
 assumed a tone of deferential remonstrance. 
 
 " Lord, thy kitchens are the most lavishly fur- 
 nished of all the world; thy larders are stocked from 
 floor to ceiling with all manner of rich meats, with 
 rare fruits, with spices, with grain of every kind, 
 so that whoso should see them would say, ' Truly 
 the lord of the Button is a great Caliph, for what 
 man of lesser rank could make so brave a show.' ' 
 
 " Well, that's just what I'm grousin' about," said 
 Alf irritably. " You're just as 'olesale as ole 
 Eustace. Put the stuff away out o' sight somewhere, 
 or you'll 'ave us all doing time. Step lively now; 
 you never know 'oo's goin' to pop in on us next." 
 
 Mustapha, feeling he was losing 'his grip of things, 
 went off to execute this latest strange command of 
 his strange master. Alf went upstairs again to Bill, 
 feeling rather weak. 
 
 As for P.C. Arthur Jobling, in the very act of 
 taking out his official notebook he found himself 
 sitting once more in the chair in his little parlor. 
 He rubbed his eyes and blinked around him; then he 
 seized hold of his own arm and pinched himself 
 and, leaping to his feet with a yell, decided he was 
 really awake. 
 
 " Gorblimey ! " he said to himself. " Must 'ave 
 been a dream! I must 'ave dropped off arter all.
 
 P.C. JOBLING INVESTIGATES 203 
 
 I remember feelin' mazed-like, but I got up and 
 no, I can't 'ave, 'cos 'ere I am. Well, well! It was 
 that life-dike I could 'a sworn it 'appened. And 
 'oardin' ! My eye piles an' piles o' food there 
 was. P'raps it's a 'int from 'Eaven to tell me what 
 to look for. Well, if I'm goin' it's high time I 
 started. 'Allo, I must 'ave put me 'elmet on in me 
 sleep ! " 
 
 He opened the door and stepped into the street. 
 Conscious that he was performing under critical 
 and appraising eyes, he puffed out his chest and 
 walked as jauntily as was consistent with dignity 
 and behind the curtains there reigned consternation; 
 for while everybody had seen him start out half-an- 
 hour before, nobody had seen him come back; and 
 yet here he was, starting out again ! When he 
 cleared the village, he stopped and scratched his 
 head uneasily. 
 
 " I'm sure I done all this before," he sard uneasily. 
 " That blessed dream o' mine seems to be with me 
 still." 
 
 He turned up the dark avenue, and the eerie feel- 
 ing deepened. His knees shook, and he had much 
 ado to prevent his teeth from chattering, but he went 
 doggedly on, and once more turned the corner. 
 
 " By Gum," said Alf blankly, " 'ere's that blinkin' 
 copper again. I can't face 'im again, Bill. You'll 
 'ave to go." 
 
 Bill, who had reached a stage where even his 
 appetite for beer had been temporarily sated, got 
 up.
 
 204 ALFS BUTTON 
 
 " Righto," he said, " anything to oblige. 'E 
 won't find no food this time, any'ow." 
 
 He lurched downstairs and met the policeman in 
 the drive. Jobling drew a breath of relief at finding 
 that he was received by a stranger. 
 
 "That settles it," he said to himself. " 'Twas 
 on'y a dream. That black butler ain't to be seen, 
 neither. It is my dooty to inform you, sir," 
 he went on aloud in measured official tones, " that 
 you 'ave several exceedingly bright lights S'howin' 
 from yer 'ouse at nights, contrary to regulations." 
 
 " 'Ave I really, ole son? " said Bill breezily. " My 
 mistake ! Come right in, won't you, an' 'ave a drink 
 while I see about it." 
 
 Alf , watching at the upper window, watched them 
 disappear, with a puzzled expression. 
 
 " Now, why the 'ell," he asked himself, " does 'e 
 bother to tell the tale about them lights over again? 
 That's on'y cammyflage, 'cause it must be the food 
 'e's come about this time. 'E must think we're 
 mugs if 'e tries to do us with the same yarn 
 twice. . . . Wonder what's 'appening? " 
 
 He gazed moodily out of the window in a state of 
 great suspense. But he had not long to wait. 
 There came a sound of some one running swiftly in 
 heavy boots; and P.C. Jobling appeared, with eyes 
 staring in terror, fleeing down the drive as though 
 pursued by the Furies. Alf watched him out of 
 sight, and turned in amazement as Bill staggered into 
 the room and collapsed on his divan, weak with 
 laughter.
 
 P.C. JOBLING INVESTIGATES 205 
 
 " What's 'appened, Bill? What you done? " 
 
 " Me? Nothin'. I tookjim an' showed 'im the 
 kitchens, all as bare as a board an' just as we 
 turns to come out we meets Mr. Farr comin' in. 
 The minute the copper sees Farr 'e gives a yell an' 
 about-turns an' legs it so you couldn't see 'is coat- 
 tails for 'eel-plates! Laugh? I laughed meself 
 dry. Get me another, Lucy ! " 
 
 But Alf looked grave. 
 
 " I don't like it," he said in a troubled voice. 
 " I do 'ate monkeyin' about with the p'lice. This 
 ain't goin' to do us no good, you mark my words ! "
 
 CHAPTER XIV 
 
 MR. FARR'S MISGUIDED ZEAL 
 
 AFTER breakfast on the following Friday 
 Allen approached Isobel solemnly. 
 
 " May I speak to you for one moment, please, 
 Commandant?" he asked, in portentously official 
 tones. 
 
 " Certainly, Mr. Allen," she replied in the same 
 manner. " Come into the office." 
 
 She led the way into the not very tidy sanctum 
 from which she conducted the voluminous corre- 
 spondence with various military bodies which formed 
 a large share in her work in the Dunwater Park 
 Auxiliary Hospital for Officers. She sat down at 
 her desk and stirred some papers with an air of 
 importance. 
 
 " You find me very busy," she intimated austerely. 
 " But I can give you a moment. What can I do for 
 you?" 
 
 Allen, as befitted one in the presence of authority, 
 came to attention. 
 
 " Please," said he humbly, " I want leave to go 
 up to town by the noon train." 
 
 " But Sister's the person who runs the leave 
 department." 
 
 " Yes, but she's gone up herself by the early 
 
 train." 
 
 206
 
 MR. FARR'S MISGUIDED ZEAL 207 
 
 " So she has. Well, what's your reason for this 
 dreadful request? " 
 
 " I want," said Allen, his eyes twinkling, " to buy 
 myself an engagement ring." 
 
 Isobel managed to preserve her severity with an 
 effort. 
 
 " Really," she replied; " I don't think that is at 
 
 all a good reason. The War Office discourages 
 
 
 " Very well ; then I'll buy you one in the village. 
 I saw a sweet thing in diamonds and sapphires yes- 
 terday only one-and-six." 
 
 " Don't forget that it's to-day that Mr. Went- 
 worth's coming to tea. Are you going to desert 
 him?" 
 
 " I am. I can't behave in his presence." 
 
 " Here's your half-fare voucher, then." 
 
 " Thank you, -darling." 
 
 " Hush ! Stop it ! Go away some one might 
 come in. Patients mustn't kiss commandants. It 
 isn't discipline." 
 
 " It w.:uld be, with some commandants. Well, 
 good luck to the tea-party. And if Wentworth 
 offers any more thousand-pound notes, just remember 
 you've me to support now, and accept." 
 
 " I do hope he won't do anything awful," said 
 Isobel anxiously. " I asked him for to-day because 
 I thought there'd be nobody here that mattered, and 
 of course Lady Anderson would take the oppor- 
 tunity to come and look round on that exact day." 
 
 "Who's she?"
 
 208 ALPS BUTTON 
 
 Isobel sighed. 
 
 " She is my Hated Rival," she explained. " That 
 is, I'm hers. She also runs an officers' hospital, and 
 she's coming over to see how I run mine. She dis- 
 approves of me altogether always has and 
 now she's furiously jealous about the hospital, so we 
 are in for a nice time. She's father's pet aversion, 
 too." 
 
 " Thank God I've picked to-day to go to town! " 
 said Allen piously. " I wish you joy of your day." 
 
 She smiled mournfully. 
 
 " Get back early and comfort me." 
 
 Alf was not looking forward with pleasure to his 
 afternoon, either. All the morning a sense of the 
 importance of the impending function weighed upon 
 his mind; and as the day wore on the more particular 
 problem of what clothes to wear refused to be either 
 settled or banished. 
 
 Immediately after lunch he went to his bedroom 
 and, spreading out his entire wardrobe before him, 
 spent an hour in an agony of indecision. Finally he 
 went to Bill and implored his help. 
 
 Bill was heavily occupied with his flagon and his 
 handmaid and at first refused to apply his intellect 
 to the matter at all; but the mere idea of having to 
 solve the insistent sartorial problem unaided drove 
 Alf into desperation. He pleaded and threatened 
 until Bill rose in disgust from his divan and, with 
 Lucy following, went into Alf's room. 
 
 " A nursemaid is what you wants, Alf," he said
 
 MR. FARR'S MISGUIDED ZEAL 209 
 
 bitterly. " I never see such a blinkin' kid as you in 
 my life. I should have thought you'd have known 
 what's what at your age better'n to 'ave to come 
 runnin' to me about it. 'Owever . . ." 
 
 He sat down on the bed and regarded the wild con- 
 fusion of clothes with lofty scorn. 
 
 ' Well," said Alf his agitation lending a touch 
 of asperity to his tone " instead of talkin' like 
 that, s'spose you get on with it. What ought I to 
 wear? " 
 
 Bill sniffed scornfully. 
 
 ' Why," he said breezily, " a pot 'at, o' course, 
 and them black things o' yours. You can't go wrong 
 that way." 
 
 " I thought you'd say that," answered Alf 
 dejectedly. " I was 'opin' as 'ow a straw 'at might 
 them black things is that 'ot I can't 'ardly breathe. 
 'Owever, I s'pose yer right." 
 
 He began to sort out his garments of ceremony 
 from the pile before him. 
 
 " Don't forget your spats," said Bill. He 
 settled himself more comfortably on the bed. 
 ' 'Ere, Lucy, my dear, come over 'ere beside me." 
 
 " Oh, indeed," said Alf, realizing her presence for 
 the first time. " No, you don't. I don't 'ave no 
 females in my room while I'm dressing." 
 
 " Don't trouble yerself about that," replied Bill 
 airily. " Carry on. Lucy won't mind." 
 
 Alf stared with strong disapprobation at Lucy, 
 who smiled coyly at him and displayed a large 
 expanse of bare leg.
 
 210 ALFS BUTTON 
 
 " No," he agreed in a meaning tone. " Lucy 
 wouldn't mind. I ain't bothering about Lucy, 
 though. It's me as minds. Tell 'er to 'op it at 
 once, Bill Grant, an' think shame of yerself. I 
 dunno what the 'ell's come to yer." 
 
 Bill, however unwillingly, was constrained to bow 
 before Alf's outraged modesty, and Lucy accordingly 
 withdrew. Then Alf proceeded to dress himself. 
 A struggle with a stiff and terribly high collar made 
 both Alf himself and his temper exceedingly hot; 
 but at last the operation was over. He placed his 
 glossy topper on his head and displayed himself for 
 his friend's inspection. 
 
 Bill looked him over minutely and critically. 
 
 " Yes," he said at length. " Yes, you looks all 
 right. Seems to me you wants brightening up 
 some'ow. I know! 'Old on 'arf a mo." 
 
 He went out of the room and returned a moment 
 later with something rolled up in his hand. 
 
 " This is what you want to brighten yer up," he 
 said confidently. " This'll fair knock 'em." 
 
 He unrolled the object in his hand. It was his 
 pictorial waistcoat. 
 
 Alf looked askance at it. 
 
 " I dunno . . ." he began feebly. 
 
 " Put it on, you blinkin' idjit," said the waistcoat's 
 owner with sudden heat. " Why, it'll make all the 
 difference. Just what you want." 
 
 " But perhaps she won't like it," objected the 
 love-sick swain. 
 " More fool she, if she don't. But she will. I
 
 MR. FARR'S MISGUIDED ZEAL 211 
 
 knows what the nobs likes. You trust me." 
 
 Alf, reassured and over-persuaded by Bill's tone 
 o-f easy confidence, put on the gorgeous garment, and 
 then, ready at last, he went downstairs prepared for 
 a very hot and uncomfortable walk to Dunwater. 
 Bill followed ; but finding Lucy waiting for her mas- 
 ter outside Alf's bedroom door with a full flagon in 
 her hand, he with the faithful damsel disappeared 
 forthwith in the direction of his divan, and was no 
 more seen. 
 
 As Alf opened the front door he started back in 
 surprise and swore deeply anc* inexcusably. The 
 drive was full of brightly colored figures. All his 
 immense retinue seemed to be gathered together 
 waiting for him, their sober garments laid aside and 
 their richest robes put on. Six motionless figures 
 mounted on magnificent and gayly caparisoned black 
 horses formed the center of the group; and a 
 seventh horse, even more gorgeously bedight, was 
 being led up and down by a coal-black groom. Alf's 
 heart sank. Somebody had apparently been whole- 
 sale once more. 
 
 "Farr!" called Alf sharply.' 
 
 Mustapha came forward. He was clad in gar- 
 ments so encrusted with gems that they crackled 
 together as he walked. He wore the air of the good 
 and faithful servant about to receive the praise he 
 knows to be well merited. 
 
 "What the 'ell's all this about?" demanded his 
 master. 
 
 " Lord," replied Mustapha, his face radiating a
 
 212 ALFS BUTTON 
 
 quiet joy, " I have made all ready. For so great 
 a day it is meet that thou should'st be surrounded 
 with all magnificence, that the father of the maiden 
 may know how great is thy wealth and power. 
 Therefore have I caused to be prepared a con- 
 course of splendor outdoing even that of the great 
 Prince Aladdin at the time of his betrothal to the 
 Princess Badralbudour upon them be peace. 
 Thus shalt thou shine in beauty as the full moon 
 upon the night of its completion, for verily the 
 like of this gathering hath not been seen upon 
 earth." 
 
 "Umph!" said Alf. He reflected that Mus- 
 tapha seemed very fond of giving himself a 
 great deal of trouble for nothing. 
 
 " Furthermore," continued Mustapha serenely, 
 " thy steed awaits thee. For speed and grace he 
 hath not his equal upon earth; black is he as a 
 raven's wing, and of a mettlesome spirit withal." 
 
 Alf glanced at the prancing steed. He had only 
 once in his life been on horseback. That had been 
 when he had fallen lame on a route march and had 
 been mounted on Captain Richards' patient and 
 war-weary charger. This horse, however, seemed 
 different. There was more life about it, somehow. 
 
 He turned to Mustapha. 
 
 " Farr," he said, " you may mean well, but 
 there's times when I thinks you tries to be aggra- 
 vating. For being a blinkin' fool you 'ave not yer 
 equal on earth. Now you can just wash the 'ole 
 thing out again see? I don't want no circus
 
 MR. FARR'S MISGUIDED ZEAL 
 
 v_* 
 
 processions round me. What d'yer take me for? " 
 
 Mustapha bowed low and then, as patiently as 
 though he were explaining to a child, he spoke. 
 
 " But, lord, it is thy bodyguard," he remon- 
 strated. " And indeed already have I dispatched 
 before thee a concourse of incredible richness." 
 
 " What? " Alf clutched his hat in horror. 
 
 " There have gone to the palace of the 
 maiden's father other forty of thy slaves, twenty 
 white and twenty black. Upon his head each black 
 slave beareth a bowl of jewels of surpassing worth, 
 while each white slave as he goes will scatter money 
 amongst the people, that thy popularity may be 
 great in the land. With them are musicians to dis- 
 course sweet sounds. Even now they pass the 
 outer gate." 
 
 At that moment there came, borne faintly down 
 the breeze, the discordant clash of distant but bar- 
 baric music. 
 
 " Lumme ! " said Alf. He felt wildly for his 
 Button, and, as the whole concourse fell prostrate 
 on its face at sight of the talisman, 'he called up 
 Eustace and gave him excited but definite orders. 
 The music in the distance stopped suddenly, and at 
 the same time the crowd in the drive (with the ex- 
 ception of the chastened Mustapha) disappeared 
 into thin air. Alf, desperately anxious to get away 
 from the house before any further horrible thing 
 happened, stood not upon the order of his going, 
 but went at once up the drive full of anxiety lest 
 anybody from the village had chanced to be passing
 
 214 ALFS BUTTON 
 
 the gates at the moment when the band had been 
 so ruthlessly suppressed. 
 
 As he turned into the road he saw the massive 
 blue form of P.C. Arthur Jobling, and his heart 
 missed a beat. But the policeman was a pitiable 
 sight. His helmet had fallen off and lay in the 
 road beside his official notebook, and he was gazing 
 from side to side in a horrified and vacant manner, 
 as though he were searching for something and were 
 terrified lest he should find it. Alf was reassured. 
 
 "Good afternoon my man," he said jauntily. 
 
 Jobling stared at him. 
 
 " G good afternoon, sir," he gulped. " Beg- 
 gin' yer pardon, sir, but do you 'appen to 'ave sent a 
 a sort o' procession like, with a band, out of 'ere? " 
 
 Alf controlled his voice with difficulty, but man- 
 aged to keep his jaunty tone. 
 
 " Do I look like it? "he said. 
 
 Jobling groaned. 
 
 " I'm goin' barmy! " he muttered. " Look 'ere, 
 sir, as a great favor, like, might I ask yer not to 
 tell 'em in the village what I asked yer? " 
 
 " Betcher life ! " answered Alf cheerily, much re- 
 lieved at this unexpected stroke of good fortune. 
 Then, leaving the unfortunate constable to collect 
 his property and what remained to him of his wits, 
 Alf set out for Dunwater, growing at every step 
 more convinced that, whatever clothes might be 
 correct for an afternoon call on a hot day, his pres- 
 ent get-up was hopelessly wrong. 
 
 As he passed through the village he found him-
 
 MR. FARE'S MISGUIDED ZEAL 215 
 
 self the object of much interest of an unmistak- 
 ably hostile kind. On every side unfriendly faces 
 scowled at him. Knots of people were standing in 
 the street, and as he passed them he heard a con- 
 fused medley of remarks not openly intended for 
 his ear, but evidently to his address. 
 
 " Spy! " said somebody. 
 
 " German ! " supplemented several others. 
 
 "Food'oarder!" 
 
 Finally as he passed the post-office Mrs. Rudd's 
 voice might have been heard through the open door 
 upraised in some denunciation of which Higgins 
 caught only two words: 
 
 ". . . Scotland Yard. . . ." 
 
 Alf was devoutly thankful when at last the vil- 
 lage was passed and the road to Dunwater lay before 
 him. As he plodded along the hot road he pondered 
 dully what sinister events those two words " Scot- 
 land Yard " might portend. He was worried for a 
 moment; but then his arrival in sight of the Dun- 
 water Park gates drove all worries other than those 
 of etiquette from his mind. What ought he to do 
 when he arrived? What ought he to say? How 
 did one address baronets? He wanted to make a 
 really memorable first impression on Isobel's father 
 but how? Of course, if he had left himself to be 
 guided by Mustapha's ideas, his first impression 
 would have been only too memorable. 
 
 " Pity ole Farr's so bloomin' 'olesale," mused Alf, 
 " because it wasn't 'arf a bad notion me bringing 
 ole FitzPeter a bit of a present, but Fair always
 
 216 ALFS BUTTON 
 
 plasters it on so bloomin' thick. . . . But lumme, 
 what's to prevent me? . . . That's a bit of an idea 
 never thought o' that. I'll do it." 
 
 He glanced cautiously up and down the road. 
 Nobody was in sight. He climbed through the 
 hedge at the roadside and found himself in a little, 
 dark wood. 
 
 " Just the place," he said to himself. " Now for 
 Eustace." 
 
 Unbuttoning his tightly fitting garments, he fished 
 out the Button and rubbed it. ... 
 
 Meanwhile, on the lawn at Dunwater Park, 
 strange events had been taking place. A large 
 party was gathered together, but instead of the 
 merry gabble of voices and laughter which char- 
 acterized the tea-hour as a rule, a solemn silence 
 brooded over the scene. A blight had fallen over 
 the entire gathering. Light-hearted and empty- 
 headed subalterns, whose whole duty in the scheme 
 of things had till now been the outpouring of frothy 
 nonsense, sat mum and miserable. Tea had not 
 yet appeared. 
 
 Dominating the scene and acting as a sort of High 
 Priestess of Blight, was a small, gray-haired woman, 
 sitting bolt upright in a basket-chair, and gazing 
 about in an acidulated manner. This was Lady An- 
 derson. She had come over as Isobel had fore- 
 seen manifestly with the intention of drawing 
 odious comparisons between her own hospital and 
 Isobel's. She had brought with her two dispirited
 
 MR. FARR'S MISGUIDED ZEAL 217 
 
 patients a sapper major and an infantry captain 
 who were both sitting well on the outskirts of the 
 group. Sir Edward FitzPeter, upon whom Lady 
 Anderson always had an infuriating effect, had 
 joined these two, in order, like them, to be as far 
 away from her ladyship as possible. 
 
 A terrible silence fell, which was broken only by 
 a whispered remark from one of the more irre- 
 pre-ssible spirits that he was suffering from " septic 
 melancholia/' 
 
 It hardly seemed humanly possible that one per- 
 son could, unaided, have reduced this usually light- 
 hearted not to say boisterous gathering to such 
 a pitch of gloom. Sister looked as if she might 
 at any moment give up the unequal contest and 
 burst into tears. 
 
 Isobel looked round her miserable party and 
 sighed. She had spent a strenuous afternoon with 
 the Wet Blanket, and was weary in body and mind. 
 Lady Anderson had started by inspecting the ground 
 floor arrangements of the Hospital, and had with 
 diabolical ingenuity succeeded in finding or inventing 
 some damning flaw in each; afterwards, it had been 
 the pleasant duty of Isobel and Sister to exhibit the 
 more intimate and important domestic machinery, 
 and give their visitor an opportunity of expressing 
 (under a very thin veil of acid politeness) her dis- 
 approbation of their methods here also. 
 
 It was a dreary outlook. The only ray of hope 
 that Isobel could see was in the knowledge that the 
 infliction could not last much longer. On ; her ar-
 
 218 ALPS BUTTON 
 
 rival the Wet Blanket had announced that she must 
 leave early, as it appeared she had promised to go 
 and blight somebody else that afternoon. But tea 
 had not yet come; and Isobel began to fear that, 
 if the atmosphere progressed in gloom at its present 
 rate, some of her more nervous patients would be 
 driven to commit suicide in the ornamental pond. 
 
 At last, when nobody but Isobel herself had made 
 the slightest attempt to speak for nearly five minutes, 
 Barnby, the butler, appeared with tea, followed by 
 two maids with trays and cake-stands. He was just 
 in time to save his mistress from committing the 
 social solecism of uttering a loud scream. He also 
 furnished Lady Anderson with further material for 
 acid comment. 
 
 Fixing her lorgnette (an instrument of torture 
 with which she did dire execution) on her nose, she 
 eyed the approaching procession with pained sur- 
 prise. Then, turning to Isobel, she informed 
 her : 
 
 1 i ) That in her opinion it was a fundamental 
 error*to have tea out of doors. Men did not like it. 
 At her hospital tea invariably took place indoors, 
 whatever the weather. 
 
 (The two dispirited officers she had brought with 
 her caught one another's eye at this point and 
 exchanged a wan smile.) 
 
 (2) That in her opinion it was a fundamental 
 error to run a hospital with servants. Men did not 
 like it. At her hospital all the work was done by 
 V.A.D.'S so much pleasanter.
 
 MR. FARR'S MISGUIDED ZEAL 219 
 
 (Another wan smile, hardly complimentary to the 
 V.A.D.'s, was exchanged.) 
 
 " But, of course, dear Miss FitzPeter," concluded 
 the lady; "here they have you. How could they 
 ask more than that ? " 
 
 She left no room for doubt in the minds of her 
 audience that in her private opinion one could ask a 
 great deal more than that. At that moment, any 
 one of the thirty or so people present would cheer- 
 fully have drowned or strangled the speaker, but 
 nobody was bold or rash enough to engage her in 
 wordy warfare. Isobel, heroically preserving a 
 dogged society smile, was devoutly thankful that 
 Denis was not there to do battle for her. He would 
 only have made matters infinitely worse. As it was 
 she was anxious about Sir Edward, who was fidgeting 
 on his chair, obviously only prevented from an explo- 
 sion by his sense of duty as host. 
 
 Fortunately a diversion occurred in the shape of 
 the vicar and his wife, and Isobel breathed -an audi- 
 ble sigh of relief. She had little love for Mrs. 
 Davies, but on this occasion there was nobody whom 
 she would more gladly 'have seen, for she knew that 
 the task of entertaining Lady Anderson would now 
 be transferred to other and enthusiastic hands. 
 Mrs. Davies had for Lady Anderson a passionate 
 regard almost amounting to adulation a regard 
 which the cantankerous old dame made no attempt 
 to reciprocate. This fact failed utterly to dash Mrs. 
 Davies ; snubs and slights slid off her back like butter 
 from a hot stove, and she continued on every possible 

 
 220 ALPS BUTTON 
 
 occasion to absorb large quantities of blacking from 
 Lady Anderson's shoes with every appearance of 
 delight. 
 
 On seeing the little, black-clad figure now she 
 rushed forward, hardly noticing Isobel at all in her 
 eagerness. 
 
 " Dear Lady Anderson," she cooed. u How per- 
 fectly delightful to see you and how sweet you look." 
 
 Here one of the patients, a callow second- 
 lieutenant with an imperfect command of feature, 
 guffawed, and had hastily to simulate a painful 
 cough. Mrs. Davies' choice of epithet was certainly 
 unfortunate, and Lady Anderson herself appeared 
 to feel this, for she was more than ordinarily 
 brusque in her manner. 
 
 " Umph ! " she said. " Sit down, do." 
 
 Mrs. Davies obeyed with alacrity and proceeded 
 to take entire possession of her idol, sitting very 
 far forward on her chair, bending her body to a 
 servile curve and prefacing every remark with 
 " Dear Lady Anderson." This treatment appeared 
 to agree with the lady, for she ceased for the time 
 being to terrorize the assembled company and 
 allowed herself to be drawn into a conversation in 
 which, while not going to the length of being amiable, 
 she did at least refrain from being actively objec- 
 tionable. Gradually the gloom cleared, until some- 
 thing like the usual cheery babble was to be heard. 
 
 Over her cup of tea Lady Anderson thawed yet 
 more. A sour smile appeared on her face. 
 
 " Well," she said to the vicar's wife, " and 
 what's the latest bit of gossip in Denmore? "
 
 MR. FARR'S MISGUIDED ZEAL 221 
 
 Mrs. Davies looked pained. 
 
 " Dear Lady Anderson," she gushed reproach- 
 fully, " you will have your little joke ! You know 
 how I hate gossip of all kinds." 
 
 ' k Yes," said the old lady dryly, " I know." 
 
 " But there is one thing about which I think every- 
 body ought to be told. The Vicar and I have kept 
 silence until now, because er because the time 
 was not ripe." 
 
 Isobel leant forward with interest. At last the 
 meaning of the parson's mysterious visit of the other 
 day was to be cleared up. 
 
 " I refer," continued Mrs. Davies firmly, 
 "to . . ." 
 
 Exactly as she had done on the previous occasion, 
 the speaker stopped suddenly in the middle of her 
 sentence as though an invisible hand had been 
 clapped over her mouth. 
 
 They waited for a space in suspense. 
 
 " Well? " said Lady Anderson at last. 
 
 " I refer," began Mrs. Davies once more, uneasily, 
 " to . . ." 
 
 Dead silence again. Lady Anderson showed 
 signs of losing her temper, never her securest posses- 
 sion at the best of times. The prospect of incurring 
 the great lady's wrath impelled Mrs. Davies to 
 struggle with the mysterious ban that seemed to be 
 laid upon- her speech. Three more attempts to 
 explain herself did she make; and when the last of 
 these had failed a kind of hysteria seemed to seize 
 Mrs. Davies. She mouthed impotently, gasping 
 like a fish, but no sound came forth. Lady Ander-
 
 222 ALF'S BUTTON 
 
 son stared at her in malevolent amazement, while 
 a monstrous suspicion grew in her mind. 
 
 "Are you ill?" she said sharply. It is hard to 
 ^explain exactly how she succeeded in making these 
 words, in themselves innocuous, convey an insinua- 
 tion of insobriety; but the fact remains that it was 
 clear to Isobel and Sister (who fortunately were the 
 only spectators of the scene, the rest having all 
 unostentatiously edged away from Lady Anderson's 
 sphere of influence) that no other meaning could 
 have been intended. Indeed, it penetrated even the 
 bemused brain of Mrs. Davies herself, and com- 
 pleted her demoralization. 
 
 She stretched out a shaking hand. 
 
 " Dear Lady Anderson," she began. 
 
 " Don't touch me," snapped that lady, at last 
 losing all control of her rising temper. " I will be 
 charitable, Mrs. Davies, and suppose that you have 
 got a touch of sunstroke; but in any case I will not 
 remain here to be made a fool of. Good afternon, 
 Miss FitzPeter." 
 
 " Oh, must you really go?" murmured Isobel, 
 with a feeling that it was too good to be true, and 
 taking care not to allow enough warmth to creep into 
 her voice to give Lady Anderson any excuse for 
 changing her mind. Sir Edward bustled forward 
 to perform the highly congenial duty of seeing the 
 Wet Blanket off the premises; but she declined his 
 aid and went off in a raging passion, her two 
 cowed and apprehensive patients following at her 
 heels.
 
 MR. FARE'S MISGUIDED ZEAL 223 
 
 Meanwhile the Vicar, who had mixed with the 
 crowd and had been happily engaged in discussing 
 cricket with four or five other enthusiasts, became 
 aware of 'his wife's voice calling hysterically for 
 him. 
 
 " Julian 1 Julian ! Take me home. Where's 
 my husband? " 
 
 " Here, my dear," he said, blundering across 
 chairs and tripping over feet in his haste. " What 
 is it?" 
 
 " Take me home ! " 
 
 " But . . ." 
 
 " It's all right, Mr. Davies," said the quiet voice 
 of Sister in his ear. " Your wife has been a little 
 upset by Lady Anderson, and I think she'll feel 
 better at home." 
 
 " Dear, dear ! " the Vicar muttered in distress. 
 " How unfortunate ! " 
 
 He knew that life would be difficult for him if 
 Lady Anderson had really removed the light of her 
 countenance from his wife, and he sighed as he took 
 her arm and helped her away. She was trembling 
 violently and her nerves seemed to have failed her 
 altogether for the time being. 
 
 " Oh dear ! " said Isobel, sinking back into her 
 chair and watching the two receding figures. " What 
 a day! Poor Mrs. Davies will never live this down, 
 I'm afraid! What's going to happen next, I 
 wonder." 
 
 She was not allowed to wonder long. As the 
 Davies family reached the angle of the house, Barnby
 
 224 ALFS BUTTON 
 
 appeared; behind him came Alf, perspiring freely 
 with sheer fright; and behind him again came two 
 enormous and imperturbable negroes, dressed in 
 robes of shimmering cloth of silver, and bearing 
 each on his head an enormous chased bowl of 
 gold. 
 
 The effect of the little cortege on Mrs. Davies was 
 remarkable. She uttered a loud scream, tore herself 
 free from her husband and shot round the corner at 
 a run. The Vicar, who had lost his glasses owing to 
 the violence of his wife's departure, groped wildly 
 for them and then disappeared in pursuit. 
 
 " I believe they really are mad," said Isobel in an 
 undertone to Sister. Then she came forward once 
 more to greet her new visitor. But Sir Edward was 
 before her. 
 
 " How do you do ! " he said heartily. " I needn't 
 ask if you are Mr. Wentworth your escort gives 
 you away! I suppose my daughter told you I was 
 interested in things oriental. How good of you to 
 think of bringing these fellows for me to see ! " 
 
 He trotted up to the negroes, who executed a 
 wonderful simultaneous salaam, after which, rising 
 on to one knee, they held out their bowls towards 
 him. It was beautifully done; the tea-party, who 
 had quite forgotten the gloom of the earlier pro- 
 ceedings, and were watching with all their eyes, 
 felt that they ought to applaud. Sir Edward was 
 delighted. 
 
 " Magnificent! " he said. " And what wonderful 
 bowls ! I'd no idea anything so fine survived."
 
 MR. FARR'S MISGUIDED ZEAL 225 
 
 He lifted one bowl with an effort and examined the 
 chasing. 
 
 "Marvelous!" he whispered. 
 
 Alf, whose former shyness and apprehension had 
 been dispelled like a cloud of smoke in a strong wind 
 by his kindly reception, made his first remark. 
 
 " They're for you, sir," he said. " A present." 
 
 " Nonsense, my dear fellow, I couldn't possi- 
 bly . . ." 
 
 But Alf was dismissing his two servitors. They 
 understood his gestures, and went. Sir Edward 
 determined to leave the question of the bowls until 
 later. The collector's greed was in his heart, and 
 perhaps if the fellow was as rich as he seemed he'd 
 never miss them. . . . Ruminating, he followed 
 Alf to the tea-table, where Isobel was already filling 
 a cup. 
 
 Mr. Wentworth, now quite at his ease, showed a 
 strong desire to sit by his hostess; but she was still 
 too worn out in mind to cope with another visitor. 
 She introduced him, therefore, to one or two of the 
 officers about her and delivered him over to them. 
 
 Alf was already owing to the mystery which 
 enveloped him a local celebrity; and now he found 
 himself a popular hero. He was borne off round the 
 grounds by a small crowd of half-admiring, half- 
 amused young officers, who extracted a great deal 
 of enjoyment from him while contriving not to hurt 
 his feelings. He found himself on terms with them 
 such as he could never have dreamed possible in the 
 days when he had been a mere private with a con-
 
 226 ALPS BUTTON 
 
 viction that the less he had to do with the commis- 
 sioned ranks the better for all classes. He was 
 encouraged to call captains by their simple surnames 
 and to venture on familiarities with subalterns; and 
 he played a game of extraordinarily bad billiards 
 which (more to his own astonishment than his 
 opponents') he won. 
 
 When at last he returnetl to retrieve his top-hat 
 and to take his leave, he was jubilant. In the past 
 he had been diffident; but gradually his confidence in 
 himself and his new powers had grown, until now 
 he was triumphantly sure of himself. Nothing, he 
 felt, could stand in the way of such a man as he had 
 shown himself to be. Immense riches, in them- 
 selves, need lead a man nowhere; but immense riches 
 combined with social success who could resist 
 them? He had been accepted by these people as an 
 equal and a friend; from that to being accepted by 
 Isobel as a lover seemed to his excited brain only 
 a step. 
 
 In the veranda stood Isobel herself, talking to her 
 father and another man. With a slight throb of 
 misgiving Alf recognized Lieutenant Allen. In his 
 usual diffident frame of mind, he would have 
 avoided an unnecessary meeting with his old platoon- 
 commander; but now, intoxicated as he was by 
 success, he greeted a spice of risk. He approached 
 the group. Both Isobel and Allen looked excited 
 Alf had never seen his lady look so desirable, or felt 
 her so approachable. 
 
 " 'Ow do, Allen?" he said with such an air of
 
 MR. FARR'S MISGUIDED ZEAL 227 
 
 jaunty familiarity that the others stared at him in 
 sheer surprise. " Pleased to see you again, I'm 
 sure. Well, I ought to be toddlin' off. Never 'ad 
 such a time since I don't know when. But you'll be 
 sure an' bring Miss Is Miss FitzPeter round an' 
 'ave a bit o' something to eat an' a look round the 
 'ouse, won't you, sir? 'Ow about to-morrow? " 
 
 Sir Edward, still overflowing with loving kindness 
 towards his neighbor, and having decided that, come 
 what might, he must keep the bowls, beamed on him. 
 
 " Don't go, Mr. Wentworth," he said. 
 
 His daughter looked up sharply and shook her 
 head; Mr. Wentworth was all very well in his way, 
 but she wanted him on her hands no longer, now 
 that Denis had returned. But her father did not 
 notice her little pantomime -and blundered genially 
 on. 
 
 " Those boys have monopoliz-ed you so that I've 
 seen nothing of you. Stay to dinner, won't you, and 
 afterward if you'd be so kind I'll get your 
 expert opinion on a small article I'm writing on 
 Eastern dress and architecture." 
 
 In his joy at the first part of this invitation, Alf 
 hardly listened to the second; but his sense of 
 propriety intervened for a moment. 
 
 " But I didn't ought . . . these clothes . . ." 
 he began. 
 
 " Oh, never mind. You'll do splendidly as you 
 are, eh, Iso? " 
 
 Thus appealed to, Isobel had only one course open 
 to her.
 
 228 ALPS BUTTON 
 
 " Do stay, Mr. Wentworth," she said perfunc- 
 torily. 
 
 " Delighted, I'm sure," said Alf gallantly. His 
 heart glowed. Here was a wonderful opportunity. 
 If only he could get rid of Allen, and make some real 
 impression on Isobel . . . how could he get rid of 
 Allen . . .? 
 
 This question occupied him as he went with them, 
 to explore a tangled wilderness in a part of the gar- 
 den he had not yet seen. If only he could tip the 
 wink to Isobel, it ought to be easy for them to slip 
 away from the intrusive Allen . . . could he? 
 
 He suddenly found, with some perturbation, that 
 h'e was -alone. He had been busy with his thoughts 
 and had not noticed which way the others h'ad gone. 
 He hunted for a time and fell into the arms of 
 a group of exuberant youths who insisted on bearing 
 him off to learn clock-golf. 
 
 Meanwhile, Denis and Isobel, panting from their 
 sudden and inexcusable dash through the tangled 
 undergrowth, had reached a sequestered retreat 
 known as the Dutch garden. Allen drew from his 
 pocket a small parcel. 
 
 " I thought we'd never get rid of the fellow," he 
 said. " I've got it, darling a little beauty. Let's 
 see if it fits."
 
 CHAPTER XV 
 
 THE CAPTURE OF MASTER BOBBY 
 
 AS dinner-time approached, Alf found himself 
 left alone while his companions slipped up- 
 stairs to change their flannels for uniform. He 
 felt rather lonely and out of place. He wandered 
 into the great hall and sat down in a large leather- 
 covered armchair. But Barnby the butler was fuss- 
 ing about here, and his disapproving and contemptu- 
 ous eye fixed on Alf's clothes was more than the 
 sensitive Mr. Wentworth could bear. He therefore 
 looked about for a more secluded spot, which he 
 found in a little alcove behind some palms. Here 
 he could see without being seen, so that he could 
 give .himself up undisturbed to his reflections. He 
 hoped that Isobel would be the first to appear 
 then he could seize the opportunity and see her, for 
 the first time, alone. 
 
 But the first person to appear was Denis Allen. 
 He came downstairs quickly and looked about with 
 an eager air. His face clouded with disappoint- 
 ment, and he picked up an evening paper and sat 
 down in an armchair. He had hardly settled, how- 
 ever, when a Vision appeared at the top of the stair. 
 He threw down his paper and sprang up. 
 
 Alf, in his alcove, stared with all his eyes. He 
 had never seen Isobel in evening dress before, and 
 
 229
 
 230 ALPS BUTTON 
 
 she quite literally took his breath away. She had 
 put on her favorite frock for Denis' benefit, and was 
 looking radiant. 
 
 " Lumme ! " said Alf softly to himself. 
 
 A new feeling began to stir inside him. Up till 
 now he had accepted his quest of Isobel as one of 
 the strange things which his mad, uncomfortable new 
 life had brought to him. He had wanted her 
 because both Bill and Eustace had made him feel 
 that his duty to his new position demanded it. Now, 
 to his own surprise, he found himself wanting her 
 for himself. Social differences had suddenly ceased 
 to count. The triumphant self-confidence of the 
 afternoon was still with him. He was, for the 
 time, drunk with the heady wine of success, and all 
 things seemed possible to him. 
 
 She paused only for an instant at the stairhead, 
 then she came down into the hall. Alf gazed and 
 gazed, drinking in the grace of her movements with 
 eyes that seemed only now for the first time -to have 
 learnt to see. 
 
 Alf stood up, trembling, and was on the point of 
 leaving his retreat; but as Isobel reached the hall 
 Allen took a couple of steps forward and after a 
 quick glance round to make sure that they were 
 unobserved, he caught Isobel in his arms and began 
 to kiss her passionately. Alf had some hazy idea 
 of rescuing beauty in distress ; but he caught sight of 
 Isobel's transfigured face and hastily fell back again 
 Into his alcove. Beauty had no desire to be rescued. 
 Alf, with his house of cards in fragments about him,
 
 THE CAPTURE OF MASTER BOBBY 231 
 
 saw Isobel slip free of Allen's enthusiastic embrace. 
 
 " You mustn't, darling," she said softly yet not 
 so softly that Alf could not hear. " Somebody will 
 be coming. Lfet's go into the garden." 
 
 She picked up a wrap from a chair and led the 
 way out. They passed wrthin a yard or two of 
 Alf s hiding-place, and he noticed the gleam of the 
 engagement ring on her finger. What a fool he 
 had been! 
 
 If the blow had fallen on the previous day, Alf 
 would have borne it with stoicism, perhaps with a 
 certain relief. He would have debited the Button 
 with one more dismal if not unexpected failure, and 
 there the matter would have ended. But that he 
 should have his hopes dashed to the ground to-night, 
 just when the prize seemed most worth winning and 
 almost in his grasp, was a cruel blow. 
 
 He sat for some minutes completely dazed and 
 helpless, but at last he was r-ecalled to earth by the 
 sound of his own name. Two of his new friends of 
 the afternoon had met in the hall. 
 
 "Where's Wentworth?" asked the first. " He 
 isn't anywhere about, is he? I say, have you seen 
 Philips? He was in the village this afternoon and 
 he says that some sportsman or other has got the 
 wind up and reported that Wentworth & Co. are 
 German spies. Scotland Yard is sending some men 
 down. Isn't it priceless? " 
 
 The other man laughed. 
 
 " Good Lord ! Wentworth, of all people ! I 
 say, hadn't we better find the little man and tell
 
 232 ALPS BUTTON 
 
 him? He's somewhere about, I expect. Let's try 
 the smoking-room." 
 
 They went off. 
 
 Alf sat petrified with horror. Scotland Yard ! 
 The very name sent cold shivers up and down his 
 innocent spine. He must get away quickly and tell 
 Bill. But what excuse could he give for his uncere- 
 monious departure? 
 
 But now Fate, having dealt poor Alf two stun- 
 ning blows, relented and gave him the excuse he 
 needed. Sir Edward and Barnby came into the hall, 
 both looking very agitated. 
 
 " Mr. Wentworth was 'ere not long since, sir," 
 said the butler. " I'll go and . . ." 
 
 " 'Ere I am, Sir Edward," said Alf, coming out of 
 his retirement. " Did you want me? " 
 
 " Mr. Wentworth," said Sir Edward gravely; 
 u I am sorry to say that your presence is urgently 
 needed at the Manor. The village policeman has 
 called to report that there has been trouble between 
 your men and the villagers. Perhaps you know that 
 your establishment is for some reason regarded with 
 deep suspicion in the village? Anyhow, it comes to 
 this: that the two men who came here with you 
 have disappeared into the Manor taking with them 
 a youth called Myers as a kind of hostage. He was 
 throwing stones and I have no doubt he deserved 
 all he got. But the excitement in the village is 
 intense, because your men doubtless in self-defense 
 drew their scimitars and marched Master Bobby 
 off under an armed guard. The village is convinced 
 that he's cooked and eaten by now."
 
 THE CAPTURE OF MASTER BOBBY 233 
 
 Alf got up; he was deeply grateful to Bobby 
 Myers for giving him this chance of getting away. 
 
 " I'll go now," he said. 
 
 "I'm so sorry!" 
 
 " Don't mention it." 
 
 Alf found his topper and joined P.C. Jobling out- 
 side. The two men set oft through the darkness in 
 silence Alf because he was plunged in black gloom. 
 Jobling because he was too terrified to speak. 
 
 They reached the Manor gates at last and the 
 entire population of the village seemed to be 
 gathered at the spot in a state of mind bordering on 
 frenzy. 
 
 A raw-boned female fury, brandishing a meat- 
 chopper, recognizable as Mrs. Myers, mother of the 
 languishing captive, caught sight of Alf first. 
 
 " 'Ere 'e is! " she shrieked. " 'Ere's the villain 
 as 'as murdered my Bobby." 
 
 " G-arh ! " snarled the crowd. 
 
 " Spy! " said somebody. 
 
 " Kidnaper! " growled somebody else. 
 
 u 'Ound!" quavered a trembling old voice 
 belonging to a rheumatic and usually bedridden 
 octogenarian on the outskirts of the crowd. 
 
 Alf paused irresolutely. He did not need to be 
 told that he was in quite an ugly corner. Mrs. 
 Myers came forward, brandishing the meat-ax. 
 Alf gave back in alarm. 
 
 " Where's my Bobby? " she demanded. 
 
 " I dunno, mum," said Alf ingratiatingly. " But 
 if you'll just let me pass I'll go an' get 'im for 
 you."
 
 234 AL F'S BUTTON 
 
 " Ho, yes ! A nice game ! No, my man, you'll 
 stay 'ere till I get my Bobby back, or I'll know the 
 reason why." 
 
 P.C. Arthur Jobling came forward in his most 
 official manner. 
 
 " Move along there, please," he said. " Make 
 way there; let the gentleman pass." 
 
 There was a scornful laugh. 
 
 " You just get out o' the light, Artie Jobling," 
 said the voice of Mrs. Rudd. " We don't want to 
 'urt you, on'y this murderin' villain 'ere." 
 
 Alf felt a crawling sensation in his spine. He 
 was far more frightened than he had ever been in 
 the trenches. His knees shook and his teeth showed 
 signs of chattering. On every side of him were 
 menacing eyes and the crowd seemed to be all round 
 him. Suddenly the whole group, as if impelled by a 
 common will, took one step towards him. Alf lost 
 the last small remnants of his nerve. He put down 
 his head; selecting a part of the crowd as remote 
 as possible from Mrs. Myers and the meat-ax, he 
 charged blindly with whirling fists. There was a 
 frantic moment's melee while the crowd, taken by 
 surprise, rallied round the affected sector. But they 
 were too late. Alf had burst through them and 
 was fleeing up the drive. His cheek was bleeding 
 from a scratch, his knuckles were torn by rude impact 
 with somebody's teeth and his topper had finally and 
 irrevocably disappeared. With shrieks of rage the 
 crowd turned and pursued him, led by Mrs. Myers. 
 Only the octogenarian remained. He found an out-
 
 THE CAPTURE OF MASTER BOBBY 235 
 
 let for his indignation by reducing Alf's hat to 
 tattered fragments with his stick. P.C. Jobling, 
 having decided that this was a matter altogether 
 beyond his power, was pacing majestically towards 
 the village. 
 
 At the corner of the drive the pursuers stopped, 
 daunted. Alf rushed on with labored breath and 
 heaving chest to the shelter of the house. A few 
 stones rattled on the drive far short of him he 
 was thankful that the assembly consisted mainly of 
 women. 
 
 He dashed into the hall. The first thing that met 
 his eye was that bone of contention, Master Bobby 
 Myers, under the guard of six enormous negroes with 
 drawn scimitars. Bobby was quite undisturbed. 
 His chief emotions seemed to be pride at the amount 
 of attention he was receiving and the wonderful 
 adventure he was living through, and a complacent 
 anticipation of the important position he would hold 
 as soon as he escaped from his present predicament 
 and returned to the village. 
 
 Alf flung himself on to a cushioned divan to get 
 back his breath. He was conscious of the presence 
 of Mustapha, who bowed low and appeared to wish 
 to speak. But Alf also wished to speak. 
 
 " 'Ere, Farr," he said sharply, " what the 'ell 
 'ave you been up to this time, eh? Nice sort o' 
 fool you make of yerself as soon as I turn me back." 
 
 " Lord," returned Mustapha, " verily the people 
 of the land did attack thy servants as they were 
 returning in peace from the palace of the father of
 
 236 ALPS BUTTON 
 
 thy maiden, setting upon them with missiles and 
 imprecations. Then did thy servants seize upon 
 this boy, for he was foremost in the throwing of the 
 missiles. If it be thy will, command thy servants 
 that he be forthwith slain." 
 
 "Slain? D'you mean kill 'im? Lumme! No 
 wonder the old lady was a bit upset. That's what 
 you done for me, Farr get me chased with a 
 chopper. Let the boy go at once." 
 
 " But, Lord . . ." 
 
 " Let 'im go at once; d'you 'ear me? " 
 
 " Lord, I hear and obey." 
 
 Mustapha spoke a few words to the negroes, who 
 sheathed their weapons and stood away from the 
 captive. 
 
 Alf jerked his thumb over his shoulder. 
 
 " 'Op it! " he said, " and think yerself lucky to 
 get off so easy." 
 
 Bobby rose to his feet as majestically as his size 
 permitted and proceeded to the door. He managed 
 to convey the impression that he attributed his 
 release entirely to his own intimidatory demeanor; 
 but not until he had made sure that his retreat was 
 not cut off did he speak. At the door he stopped, 
 placed his right thumb on the point of his nose and 
 spread out his fingers, at the same time displaying a 
 large expanse of insolent tongue. 
 
 " Yah ! " he said replacing his tongue for the 
 purpose. " You just wait. You won't 'arf get it in 
 the neck for this. I'll summons yer, see if I don't. 
 Food-'og!"
 
 THE CAPTURE OF MASTER BOBBY 237 
 
 He was gone. On the drive his parent received 
 him, with incredulous joy, as one returned from the 
 tomb, greeting him to his great embarrassment 
 with an unaccustomed kiss. Then, having cuffed 
 him on the head to restore her self-respect, she led 
 him down to the village, where Master Bobby found 
 himself occupying a position in the public eye cal- 
 culated to swell his head beyond all hope of recovery. 
 
 But Bobby's threats and Bobby's taunts were alike 
 immaterial to Alf. His mind was occupied with 
 greater things. He went upstairs to Bill and found 
 that sybarite placidly sleeping, while Lucy sat by his 
 head rhythmically waving a fan. Mr. Montmor- 
 cncy's mouth was open and his snores reverberated 
 through the room. Alf eyed him with disgust, and 
 then woke him by the simple but efficacious method 
 of kicking him in the ribs. He sat up and expostu- 
 lated. 
 
 "What the 'ell ... oh, it's you, is it? . . . 
 Well, what d'yer mean by it? An' what's wrong 
 now?" 
 
 Alf glared at him morosely. 
 
 " A lot you care," he returned. " 'Ow much 'elp 
 'ave you given me over this job, you blinkin' 
 soaker? " 
 
 "If you wants a clip over the ear-'ole," began 
 Bill, with heat, " you on'y got to go on askin' for it. 
 As for 'elp, I'm waitin' till I'm needed. What's up 
 now? 'Ave they slung you out o' the 'ouse, or what? 
 / can't 'elp yer table manners, you know." 
 
 " She's engaged."
 
 238 ALFS BUTTON 
 
 "'Oo is?" 
 
 "'Er Miss FitzPeter." 
 
 "'Oo to?" 
 
 " Mr. Allen." 
 
 Bill pursed up his lips into a silent whistle. 
 
 " Lumme," he said, " I never thought of that." 
 
 " No. You just lie 'ere swigging beer an' cuddlin' 
 yer blinkin' Lucy. I'm fair ashamed to see yer. 
 An' now the 'ole thing's over an' done with, an' you 
 'aven't lifted a finger." 
 
 " There 'asn't been any need yet," said Bill coolly. 
 " This is where I come in." 
 
 " But it's too late now." 
 
 ' That's all you know. Why don't you read the 
 book properly? Aladdin, 'e got into a much worse 
 mess than what you 'ave, because 'is girl got married 
 to the wrong man, instead o' just engaged." 
 
 " What did 'e do then?" 
 
 " 'E told Eustace to make it 'ot for the other man; 
 an' Eustace made it so 'ot that the other man went 
 an' got divorced from the girl, an' Aladdin married 
 'er. It's easier for you, much. Just tell Eustace to 
 fly off with Lootentant Allen, an' there you are, 
 all plain sailin' again. 'Ow did you get on with the 
 old bird?" 
 
 " Splendid. 'E was all over me," said Alf list- 
 lessly. 
 
 " There y'are, then. What did I tell yer? Splash 
 a bit more money about an' 'e's yours, an' so's the 
 girl. Come to yer Uncle Bill when yer in trouble, 
 me lad, an' 'e'll see you through."
 
 THE CAPTURE OF MASTER BOBBY 239 
 
 " But what about the girl? 'Ow if she loves 'im? 
 'Sides, 'e's a nob." 
 
 " Let 'er," said Bill cynically. " She'll soon for- 
 get 'im when you begins 'andin' out the oof. Women 
 is all alike. I don't believe in 'em meself. Lucy's 
 the sort for me. I'm thinkin' of marryin' Lucy, I 
 am. She's just what I want in a wife she can't 
 answer me back, an' the more beer I drinks the 
 better she seems to like it. 'Ere, what are you 
 doin'?" 
 
 Alf was unbuttoning his waistcoat and shirt. 
 " Gettin' at the Button," he said. " Coin' to call 
 up Eustace." 
 
 " Good lad," said Bill. " 'Arf a tick, though 
 you know 'ow the Button upsets Lucy. 'Ere, Lucy 
 skedaddle ; bunk ! " 
 
 Lucy obediently bunked. 
 
 " Now," said Bill. " Let's call the ole blighter 
 up and settle the 'ash of the feller as 'as engaged 
 'imself to yer girl, nob or no nob." 
 
 Alf rubbed the talisman. 
 
 " What wouldst thou have? " said the deep tones 
 of Eustace. 
 
 Alf took a deep breath and began to speak rapidly 
 and nervously. 
 
 " Eustace," he said, " I want to say that I'm sure 
 you always done yer best for me, an' I'm grateful 
 for it. If you 'ave made some bloomers, why, we 
 all make bloomers sometimes. An' it's me as 'ave 
 made the biggest bloomer o' the lot." 
 
 41 'Ere endeth the second lesson," said Bill
 
 240 ALPS BUTTON 
 
 derisively. " Get on to business, you chump." 
 
 " But," resumed Alf doggedly, " I been a fool 
 and I ain't goin' on with it. What I want you to do 
 is to take away everything in this 'ouse as you've 
 put in it, an' to put back everything as you found 
 'ere, just as it was when you took it over." 
 
 " I say . . ." began Bill loudly. 
 
 " Master," said Eustace gravely, " I hear and 
 obey." 
 
 He vanished. 
 
 Instantly the lights in the room went out. At the 
 same moment the hum of life which had filled the 
 building stopped dead, and an eerie stillness fell on 
 the house. The curtains which had veiled the 
 windows were suddenly no longer there, and the 
 moon shining in filled the room with a half-light in 
 which Alf could see Bill's figure silhouetted. 
 
 The dead silence was broken by a flood of 
 picturesque and disreputable imprecations from Bill. 
 
 " What d'you think yer doin' ? " he asked, when 
 he could articulate once more. "What's the idea? 
 Think you're funny, I s'pose. 'Ere, some one's 
 pinched me clothes. . . ." 
 
 He groped his way to the door and opened it. 
 Alf, suddenly conscious that he, too, was wearing 
 nothing but the string to which the Button was sus- 
 pended, and beginning to fear that Eustace had been 
 once more disconcertingly " 'olesale," followed Bill 
 outside. The moonbeams, shining through the glass 
 of the roof into the great hall, faintly lighted up an 
 utterly changed house. At one end of the hall they
 
 THE CAPTURE OF MASTER BOBBY 241 
 
 revealed the great tapestry whose disappearance had 
 caused the vicar such acute pain. But there was 
 no sign of life the place seemed suddenly haunted 
 and ghostly. The two men retreated hastily into 
 the room they had just left and tripped over two 
 piles of khaki clothing, which lay on the floor, neatly 
 folded; by them lay two sets of kit and two rifles. 
 Otherwise the room was utterly empty. 
 
 Alf, without a word, began to dress himself. Bill 
 felt in his tunic pocket and produced a match. By 
 its light he surveyed the strange room, trying to take 
 in the meaning of this last act of Alf's. 
 
 " But look 'ere," he said stupidly at last; " Lucy's 
 gone." 
 
 " Yes an' a good riddance too. It's you an* 
 your blinkin' Lucy what's done me in. Get yer 
 clothes on now an' we'll go, too." 
 
 "Go? Us?" 
 
 Events were moving too quickly for Bill's obfus- 
 cated intellect. 
 
 " O' course. We still got a fortnight o' our leave 
 left, thank 'Evings. I'm goin' 'ome." 
 
 " But . . ." 
 
 " Shut it, Bill Grant. We got to go, I tell yer. 
 Why they'd 'ave 'arf killed me in the village just 
 now if they'd 'a caught me. I've 'ad enough of it. 
 Besides, they're puttin' Scotland Yard on to us." 
 
 " But it'll be all right, you fat-'ed. Eustace . . ." 
 
 " Don't you talk about Eustace to me." 
 
 Alf, dressing in feverish haste, tied his puttee- 
 tapes and put on his tunic.
 
 242 ALPS BUTTON 
 
 " I ain't goin' to 'ave nothing more to do with 
 Eustace, nor no one else is neither. It ain't right. 
 If you 'ave dealin's with the Devil you're sure to get 
 it in the neck some'ow." 
 
 Bill, who had encountered before the streak of 
 pig-headed obstinacy which underlay Alf 's easy-going 
 nature, realized that no useful purpose could be 
 served by argument. For a moment the prospect of 
 losing the life of ease that had been his for the past 
 week tempted him to try to force Alf by physical 
 violence to countermand his order. Then a subtler 
 plan occurred to him. Alf had proved himself 
 utterly unworthy to possess the Button; he, Bill, 
 would wait his chance to get it from him by fair 
 means or foul and then . . . His brain reeled at 
 the possibilities that opened before him. First, of 
 course, he would send Eustace over to Germany, 
 kidnap the Kaiser and possibly a selection of his 
 higher command, and would thus bring the war to a 
 speedy and triumphant conclusion; after that, he 
 would start out upon a career of dazzling glory. 
 Meanwhile he must humor Alf. 
 
 " Oh, well," he said, in a resigned tone. " P'raps 
 you're right. What you goin' to do now? " 
 
 " First thing is to get clear o' this blinkin' place," 
 said Alf. " If we get nabbed in this 'ere village, I 
 tell yer straight we'll be damn well murdered." 
 
 Bill gave an uneasy laugh. ' They'll never know 
 us in these things," he said. 
 
 He remembered that P.C. Jobling at any rate 
 knew him by sight, and he felt nervous. " Look
 
 THE CAPTURE OF MASTER BOBBY 243 
 
 'ere," he suggested, " why not use the Button just 
 once more to get us 'ome?" 
 
 Alf's jaw set. 
 
 " Never no more," he answered. " You've seen 
 the last of Eustace, you 'ave. M 
 
 Bill said no more, but inwardly he registered a 
 passionate denial of Alf's statement. 
 
 Half an hour later two khaki-clad figures climbed 
 cautiously over a remote part of the wall which sur- 
 rounded the Denmore estate, and made their way 
 with some apprehension along the road towards the 
 village. When they passed the front gates of the 
 Manor, they were relieved to find them no longer 
 an object of excitement. The crowd had dispersed. 
 But in the village street *vere gesticulating groups 
 discussing not only the events of the day but also, it 
 seemed, plans of campaign for the morrow. 
 
 "We'll teach 'em the murderin' villains." 
 
 " Seems they Miink they're in Roosher, but we'll 
 show 'em." 
 
 It was plain that the incident of Bobby Myers 
 was not by any means considered closed. The two 
 figures in the familiar khaki passed through the 
 groups almost unnoticed; one man, pausing in a lurid 
 description of what he could do to the villain, Went- 
 worth, on the morrow, nodded a friendly good-night 
 to Alf, but otherwise the topic of the night was too 
 absorbing to leave time for dallying with casual 
 Tommies. By the time they reached the railway- 
 nation even Bill felt thankful that he was not going
 
 244 ALPS BUTTON 
 
 to be at home to visitors at the Manor on the mor- 
 row. As for Alf, everything that he saw and heard 
 crystallized his determination never on any account 
 to have further recourse to the Button. Isobel was 
 almost forgotten she seemed as far away as a 
 person seen in a dream. The dream had been vivid 
 enough while it lasted, but already its edges were 
 becoming blurred and its colors were fading. 
 
 By good fortune they were in easy time to catch 
 the last train to London; but only as they reached 
 the ticket-office did it strike either warrior that 
 Eustace, when clearing away the rest of his gifts, 
 had taken also their store of wealth. 
 
 " 'Ave you any oof, Bill? " asked Alf anxiously. 
 
 " I dunno." 
 
 They sought in their pockets, each with a vision of 
 a twenty-mile tramp to London before his eyes. 
 Then they sighed with relief; each had still the 
 money with which he had started out upon his leave. 
 Alf pushed a note across the counter. 
 
 " This is no good to me," said the female and 
 youthful booking-clerk, in superior tones, hastily 
 retrieving the tickets she was just handing out. 
 
 "What's the matter?" 
 
 " French money, isn't it? " 
 
 " Lumme, so it is ! I never thought o' that, Bill. 
 'Ave you any English ? " 
 
 Bill looked hastily through his store and shook his 
 head. 
 
 " Look 'ere, miss," he said ingratiatingly. 
 " Can't you let us 'ave the tickets, as a special case
 
 THE CAPTURE OF MASTER BOBBY 245 
 
 like ? We're on leave from the front, an* we 'aven't 
 'ad no time to get our money changed yet. If you 
 don't let us 'ave the tickets we'll 'ave to walk. An* 
 it is good money, even if it is French." 
 
 The damsel was softened but doubtful. 
 
 " I'll ask father," she said. 
 
 " Father " turned out to be the station-master. 
 He listened to their story with manifest incredulity, 
 and fingered the French notes with skepticism, but 
 finally agreed to accept them in payment of the fare. 
 But he fixed a rate of exchange which assured that 
 the railway company or possibly himself 
 would gain by the transaction an enormous and 
 unearned increment. 
 
 There was nothing for it but to pay up, and any 
 personal continents they might 'have wished to make 
 were cut short by the arrival of the train. They 
 found an empty compartment and composed them- 
 selves joyfully though illegally with their boots on 
 the seats. 
 
 Bill brooded darkly for a time on the affair of the 
 station-master, till the bitterness of his thoughts 
 forced utterance. 
 
 " If Eustace . . ." he began. 
 
 But Alf, worn out by his varied emotions, was 
 already asleep.
 
 CHAPTER XVI 
 
 MRS. GRANT'S DIPLOMACY 
 
 A WEEK later Private Bill Grant late Mr. 
 William Montmorency of Denmore Manor 
 was approaching the parental roof of his friend, 
 Alf Higgins ex Wentworth. Bill neither looked 
 nor felt happy. Life during the period since the 
 evacuation of Denmore had been profitless and stale. 
 True, he had plenty of money in his pocket for a man 
 in his position; but his trouble was that his position 
 no longer satisfied him. His home, after the glar- 
 ing magnificence of Denmore, seemed cramped and 
 tawdry. The public-houses of Hackney, once 
 palaces of delight to be dreamed about from exile in 
 a foreign land, were squalid and stuffy. The liquid 
 they purveyed was by contrast with the full-bodied 
 brew supplied by Eustace tasteless and flat. The 
 barmaids compared most unfavorably with his lost 
 Lucy in beauty, in their manner of dressing and in 
 their attitude towards himself. Lucy, for instance, 
 had never advised him to boil his head. 
 
 Bill was, in fact, thoroughly miserable ; and he saw 
 no prospect whatever of any alleviation of his trouble 
 until his leave was over. He did not see the faintest 
 possibility of obtaining the Button from Alf, until 
 they were back in France and he was living in 
 anticipation of that glorious moment. 
 
 He had no very clear idea why he was going to sec 
 246
 
 MRS. GRANT'S DIPLOMACY 247 
 
 Alf now. Just at present, he and his mate were in 
 that state of acute mutual irritation known as " being 
 on one another's nerves." Alf was still obstinately 
 determined never again to make use of the Button, 
 and disliked any reference to the subject; and Bill, 
 impelled by some malignant demon, seemed unable 
 to keep veiled allusions to it out of his conversation. 
 
 To Alf their return to Hackney brought nothing 
 but relief. His brief spurt of passion for Isobel had 
 been swallowed up in his joy at finding himself once 
 more free to live his own life, no longer the helpless 
 puppet of Fate in a station and a way of existence to 
 which he had felt himself a shrinking stranger. 
 Isobel herself was now more than ever the figure of 
 a dream. In fact, all the events of that strange 
 time seemed to him hazy and unreal, until their 
 reality was brought home to him in an unexpected 
 and startling manner. 
 
 Alf had imagined that the Denmore Manor 
 chapter of his life was definitely and forever closed 
 when he reached Waterloo on the night of his flight. 
 He had at once started to grow his mustache again, 
 and already a bristly growth was doing its best to 
 eliminate the last traces of Alfred Wentworth, 
 Esquire. But Alfred Wentworth had been too 
 important a personage in his short career for the 
 world to accept so lightly his disappearance. The 
 papers had taken up the affair, and the fuss they 
 made of it both surprised and alarmed Alf. To 
 make matters worse, Mr. Higgins senior who 
 might be described politically as being a half-baked
 
 248 ALF'S BUTTON 
 
 semi-socialist had regarded the whole affair as 
 being in some obscure way a device of Capital to 
 defraud Labor, and had talked of nothing else for 
 some days, until Alf's irritation came to a head in 
 regrettable outbursts of temper. 
 
 Bill entered the house on this occasion to find Alf's 
 father reading aloud from an evening paper and 
 making fierce marginal comments thereoa for the 
 benefit of his wife and son. The former a stout 
 lady of placid appearance was lulling herself 
 peacefully to sleep in a rocking-chair, soothed by her 
 husband's voice as much as by the motion. Alf was 
 sitting hunched up in a rickety basket-chair, sucking 
 at an empty pipe. 
 
 " 'Ullo ! " said Alf, not very graciously. 
 
 11 'Ullo ! " returned Bill, as sourly as he. 
 
 Mr. Higgins senior, however, was pleased at the 
 prospect of obtaining an addition to his audience and 
 welcomed his visitor more effusively. 
 
 " 'Ullo, Grant," he said. " Come and sit down. 
 Wodjer think o' this? " He smote the paper in his 
 hand. " The country's goin' to ruin under this 'ere 
 gover"'mint. Fair makes yer blood boil." 
 
 "What does?" asked Bill politely but without 
 interest. Old Higgins' blood had a habit of boiling 
 on the smallest provocation. 
 
 " The 'ole bloomin' business. 'Ere you an Alf 
 'ere come back on leave to this country, an' what do 
 you find? " 
 
 He paused dramatically.- His audience gazed at 
 the fireplace with complete apathy except Mrs.
 
 MRS. GRANT'S DIPLOMACY 249 
 
 Higgins, who emitted a slight snore and dropped her 
 head upon her ample bosom. 
 
 "What do you find, I say?" reiterated her hus- 
 band. 
 
 "Well, what?" Alf asked when the pause had 
 grown too painful to be borne any longer. 
 
 "What? Why, 'caps of things," returned his 
 sire rather feebly. " It's all wrong. The country's 
 full o' spies, for one thing. Full of 'em. 'Ow do 
 we know 'oo's a spy an' 'oo isn't? tell me that. 
 Look 'ere, at this 'ere Denmore Manor business. 
 We've 'ad the papers full o' that for a week past, 
 an' not a single arrest made. It's my belief that 
 Capital won't let 'em make any arrests, that's what I 
 think. Disgustin', I call it! " 
 
 " 'Ow d'you know there was spies at Denmore 
 Manor?" asked Alf, in whom the innocent accusa- 
 tion rankled deeply. 
 
 " Didn't it say there was niggers? An' didn't the 
 paper 'ave a picture o' the little boy as they kid- 
 naped 'e said they was spies, an' } e ought to 
 know, 'e ought. An' yet them blighters is allowed 
 to escape, an' they must be all over the country now, 
 an' yet nothing's done." 
 
 " What's the paper say? " asked Bill calmly. 
 
 Mr. Higgins, much pleased, puffed out his chest 
 and read. 
 
 " ' The mystery of the whereabouts of the late 
 occupants of Denmore Manor continues to arouse 
 a great deal of public interest. No light has yet 
 been thrown either on the reason for its occupation
 
 250 ALPS BUTTON 
 
 or upon the method whereby these mysterious people 
 have made good their escape. The police have now 
 a strong clew as to the identity of the ringleaders, 
 and they are following this up.' And I 'ope to 
 'Eaven," concluded the reader piously, " as 'ow it'll 
 come to something. But I'll bet it's a blinkin' wash- 
 out. The police is no good." 
 
 Alf and Bill stared blankly at one another. 
 
 " A strong clew . . . they are following it 
 up." The words sounded ominous. And yet 
 what could the clew be? Mr. Higgins, continuing 
 his scathing denunciation of the police, found that he 
 had lost the attention of his audience. Alf was rais- 
 ing enquiring eyebrows in Bill's direction, while Bill 
 was shaking his head. He had no idea what the 
 "clew" if such existed might be. The elder 
 Higgins regarded this pantomime with growing 
 indignation for a moment. 
 
 " It don't seem to matter to you much what 
 'appens," he said coldly at last. " If / was out at 
 the front, an' came back an' found the country in 
 this kind o' state, I'd ... I'd . . ." His vocabu- 
 lary suddenly proved unequal to the strain placed 
 upon it, and he tailed off into silence. 
 
 " / don't believe they was spies at all," said Alf 
 doggedly. 
 
 " Not spies? " His father's voice quivered with 
 righteous indignation. " Well, what about this 'ere 
 parson, then? tell me that." 
 
 Alf, who had forgotten Mr. Davies' very exist- 
 ence, remembered suddenly that in the hurry of
 
 MRS. GRANT'S DIPLOMACY 251 
 
 departure he had left that unfortunate clergyman 
 and his wife still laboring under the disability so 
 ruthlessly imposed upon them. His conscience 
 smote him. 
 
 " Why," he asked uneasily, " what's wrong with 
 'im? 'As 'e being gettin' into trouble?" 
 
 " No, but 'e blinkin' well ought to ! " 
 
 " What's 'e done?" 
 
 " It's what 'e 'asn't done as 11 the matter. 'E 
 knows something about this 'ere business. 'E went 
 up to the 'ouse. But 'e won't say a word. Won't 
 tell the police nothing. Nobody can't get 'im to 
 speak." 
 
 " But 'e ain't in no trouble, is 'e? " persisted Alf. 
 
 "Trouble? No. They can't touch 'im. If it 
 was you or me, now, it 'ud be a case o' the police." 
 
 Alf, much relieved, stifled his conscience. The 
 orator continued his fierce harangue. 
 
 " Yer mean to tell me," he demanded, " as 'e 
 couldn't say something if 'e wanted to? 'E's in 
 league with 'em, that's what 'e is. Not spies? Not 
 spies? Why, you're as bad as this 'ere Sassiety lady 
 FitzPeter they call 'er." 
 
 "What's she done?" asked Alf sharply. 
 
 " Done? Why, she goes about saying in the 
 paper as she don't believe they was spies. All cam- 
 myflage, that is. What are they, if not spies? 
 tell me that. I believe she's mixed up in it 'erself, 
 too. Why, this 'ere feller Wentworth, 'e went to 
 'er 'ouse to dinner the very same night 'e 'ad to 
 clear out. That makes you think a bit, eh? An' I
 
 252 ALFS BUTTON 
 
 'ear she went an' 'ad a talk with 'im in 'is own' 'ouse 
 too. It's all Capital an' 'Idden 'And together. 
 These 'ere Sassiety ladies is no good. Wrong 'uns, 
 my boy, that's what they are. If I 'ad me way 
 I'd . . ." 
 
 " If I 'ad my way," said Alf with heat, " I'd 'ave 
 people like you muzzled, I would." 
 
 " You . . . you . . . ! " 
 
 " 'Ow dare you miscall a lady like Miss Fitz- 
 Peter?" 
 
 " Steady, Alf 'old on," said Bill, in an agony 
 lest passion should lead his friend to indiscretion. 
 
 " I tell yer," resumed Alf, still at the top of his 
 voice, waking his mother from her comfortable nap, 
 " I tell yer that Miss FitzPeter never 'ad nothing to 
 do with no spies, never in 'er 'ole life she didn't, an' 
 any one 'oo says so is a liar." 
 
 " Ho ! I'm a liar, am I? " Mr. Higgins leapt to 
 his feet. His wife, according to her invariable cus- 
 tom when her menfolk quarreled, began to weep 
 quietly, but persistently. " Get out o' the 'ouse ! 
 I ain't goin' to be called names by no young 'ound 
 like you. Get out of it! An' what d'you know 
 about 'er, anyway? " 
 
 "What do I know?" Alf laughed with scorn. 
 " I know a dam' sight more'n . . ." 
 
 " Come on, Alf! " urged Bill earnestly in his ear, 
 anxious only to get him away before he made some 
 terrible revelation. Alf allowed himself to be led 
 into the street, where Bill gave him a " dressing 
 down."
 
 MRS. GRANT'S DIPLOMACY 253 
 
 " You blinkin' fool," he said. " What the 'ell 
 d'you want to go an' do that for? You'll give the 
 'ole blinkin' show away if you ain't careful. Nice 
 we should look if any one* found out it was us at 
 the Manor! " 
 
 " Well," returned Alf, still fermenting, " what's 
 'e want to go talking like that for? Spies, indeed! 
 What's- 'e know about it? " 
 
 " That ain't the question," replied Bill seriously. 
 " What / want to know is, what's the police know 
 about it. You 'card what the paper said about a 
 clew." 
 
 " Don't they always say that? " 
 
 " Yes, but not so confident as that. If they don't 
 know nothing about it, they say: ' The police 'as a 
 clew,' an' everybody knows they 'aven't got nothing 
 o' the sort. But this says : ' A strong clew, what 
 the police is followin' up.' Did we leave anything 
 be'indus?" 
 
 Rack their brains as they would, they could not 
 remember anything they had left as a clew. The 
 question worried them considerably. Bill made 
 once more his suggestion that Eustace could be em- 
 ployed to set things right, but dropped the idea 
 hastily in face of Alf's reception thereof. 
 
 " I expect," he said at last, hopefully, but without 
 real conviction, " as it's all cammyflage, arter all. 
 There ain't no clew, an' they just pitched the tale 
 extra strong so's people won't make remarks." 
 
 Each man kept an anxious eye on the papers for 
 the next few days, but nothing more was published
 
 254 ALF'S BUTTON 
 
 concerning the clew ; and when the time went on, and 
 the day before they were due to return to the front 
 arrived without any more light being thrown on the 
 Manor mystery, they began to feel more easy. 
 
 But that day, as Bill and his mother (a lady as 
 aggressive as Mrs. Higgins was the reverse) were 
 finishing their dinner there came a heavy knocking 
 on the door. 
 
 Mrs. Grant peeped out of the window to see who 
 her unexpected visitors might be. 
 
 " Two policemen ! " she exclaimed in angry alarm. 
 " Is this some o' your doin's, Bill Grant? What you 
 been up to? " 
 
 " Nothin'," said Bill as jauntily as he could for 
 the cold chills that were chasing one another up and 
 down his backbone. " Nothin' at all." 
 
 " I 'ope not," answered his mother grimly. She 
 had seen his expression at hearing the word " police- 
 man," and she suspected the worst. Whether or not 
 the police succeeded in extracting anything from him, 
 she was confident that he had been doing something 
 wrong. She determined that once the police had 
 been safely got away, Bill would have her to deal 
 with. 
 
 " If you've been doin' anythin'," she went on, 
 " it'll be worse for you. I'm a respectable woman, 
 I am. Quick, go an' answer the door before the 
 neighbors see we got the police 'ere." 
 
 As Bill went towards the door the knocking was 
 renewed with redoubled violence. Mrs. Grant could 
 see interested faces at the windows of the houses
 
 MRS. GRANT'S DIPLOMACY 255' 
 
 opposite, and her temper became worse than ever. 
 She went into the passage, where Bill had just ad- 
 mitted two large constables. 
 
 " Come in 'ere," she said. 
 
 They entered. 
 
 Under his- armpit the larger of the two a 
 sergeant bore a book which Bill at once recog- 
 nized. It was the old lady's copy of the Arabian 
 Nights and the " strong clew " of the newspapers. 
 Bill prepared to lie as he had never lied before. 
 
 The smaller policeman he could not have 
 weighed more than fourteen stone produced an 
 indelible pencil and an official notebook. He laid 
 the latter on the table atid moistened the former 
 preparatory to beginning his clerical labors, receiving 
 thereby a purple stain on the lip. 
 
 " Private William Grant? " asked the sergeant. 
 
 " That's me." 
 
 " 5th Middlesex Fusiliers? " 
 
 " That's right," said Bill. He was relieved at 
 being able to start by telling the truth. It laid a 
 firm foundation for the lies he would have to con- 
 struct later on. 
 
 " Regimental Number 2312? " 
 
 " Correct," said Bill. " What might you want o' 
 me?" 
 
 " I just want to ask you a question or two." The 
 scribe at the table gave his pencil another lick, 
 increasing the stain on his lip. 
 
 "What about?" 
 
 The spokesman gave a doubtful glance at Mrs.
 
 256 ALPS BUTTON 
 
 Grant, who was still quivering in the background. 
 
 " If the lady wouldn't mind . . ." he began 
 politely. 
 
 " 'Op it, mother! " said Bill. " You go an' get 
 on with yer washin'." 
 
 " Oh, indeed! I'm not to know what goes on in 
 me own 'ouse, ain't I ? Very well then, you can ask 
 yer questions in the street, or the back yard." 
 
 " P'raps it don't matter," said the sergeant 
 uneasily. " I only want to ask a question or two 
 about this book." 
 
 " Right-o," said Bill. " Carry on ! " 
 
 Should he deny all knowledge of the book? If 
 he did, could he outface the policemen and convince 
 them? How much did the police know, and how 
 had they managed to connect him with the book at 
 all? He could not answer any of these questions, 
 and his only course was to wait till his adversary 
 should give him a lead. He did not have to wait 
 long. 
 
 " This book," said the sergeant, " was sent out to 
 you at the front by Miss So-fire Browne at a recent 
 date." 
 
 " It was," admitted Bill. So that was how they 
 had traced him, was it by the name and address 
 of Miss Browne's brother written on the fly-leaf? 
 And seeing that they knew so much, it was well 
 for him that he had not after all denied his connec- 
 tion with the book. 
 
 " Can you tell me under what circumstances you 
 relinquished possession of the volume in question? "
 
 MRS. GRANT'S DIPLOMACY 257 
 
 This was the point where truth must begin to be 
 tempered. Bill set his intuitive faculty busily to 
 work. 
 
 " Is that Latin for when did I lose it? " he asked, 
 more with the idea of gaining time than of procuring 
 information or even of insulting the policeman. 
 
 " None o' that," said the Arm of the Law majesti- 
 cally. " Answer the question. When did you see 
 the book last? " 
 
 The owner of the notebook, who had so far merely 
 been ticking off the various items of Bill's description 
 as the correctness of each was established, realized 
 that the heavy part of his task was now just about to 
 begin. He devoted himself to suction of his pencil- 
 point with such assiduity that he began to look as 
 though he had regaled himself heavily with black 
 cherries. 
 
 Bill, his mind still working at lightning speed, 
 gazed at the amanuensis in apparent fascination. 
 His object was to invent a method of disposing of the 
 book which while being credible should not admit of 
 corroboration. Supposing he said he had lost it at 
 Folkestone on his way home? . . . But that might 
 raise the question of the date of his return to Eng- 
 land, and he did not want his mother to know that he 
 had been home for some time before coming to her. 
 He might manage to put the police off, but once his 
 mother had got hold of a suspicious fact, there was 
 no balking her. 
 
 " Come on," said the police sergeant impatiently. 
 14 What's the matter with you?"
 
 258 ALF'S BUTTON 
 
 " I was just waitin' till the Town Clerk 'ere was 
 ready," he explained with his native impudence. 
 " When did I last see the book? I don't know as I 
 can remember the exact day." 
 
 " Never mind that. 'Ow did you come to lose 
 it?" 
 
 The sergeant's patience was wearing thin. Bill, 
 who had now had time to think out his story, took 
 a deep breath. 
 
 " Last I seen of it," he said, " I lent it to a chap 
 in the Scottish Rifles what come into our dug-out 
 one night name o' Conky. 'E come in about 
 twenty-past eleven, 'avin' lost 'is way, an' 'e 
 sez . . ." 
 
 ' 'Ere," said the constable at the table, speaking 
 for the first time. " Steady! " 
 
 " 'Ow far 'ave you got with it? " asked Bill kindly. 
 
 The scribe, with beads of sweat standing out on 
 his brow, and a protruding tongue whose tip followed 
 the motions of his pencil, was writing madly. 
 
 " 'Dug-out,' " he quoted. " Name o' . . . what 
 did you say? " 
 
 " Conky." 
 
 " That ain't no good," interposed the sergeant 
 with severity. " Don't waste yer time takin' down 
 muck o' that kind, Collins. What was 'is other 
 name? " 
 
 " Smith, I think," said Grant, his fertile brain 
 casting about for further corroborative detail with 
 which to give artistic verisimilitude to his otherwise 
 bald and unconvincing narrative. " I can't be sure, 
 though."
 
 MRS. GRANT'S DIPLOMACY 259 
 
 " Well," said the sergeant in a resigned tone, 
 " what did 'e do, any'ow? " 
 
 " 'E took the book," resumed the romancer. 
 " An' 'e said 'e'd like to read it. So I lent it to 'im, 
 an' 'e promised to let me 'ave it back next time 'e 
 was back restin' stop me if I go too fast, Mr. Col- 
 lins an' as it 'appened I never seed 'im again." 
 
 " What 'appened to 'im? " 
 
 " I dunno for certain. But I did 'ear a rumor as 
 'ow 'e got nabbed, poor chap." 
 
 "Captured?" 
 
 " Yes. The Boche come over when 'is battalion 
 was in the line." 
 
 " An' 'ow about the book? " 
 
 Bill considered a moment. The general consensus 
 of opinion throughout the country insisted on regard- 
 ing the Denmore Manor affair as the work of Ger- 
 man spies. In Bill's eyes this was an exceedingly 
 satisfactory opinion for the country to hold. He 
 decided to give the country a little assistance. 
 
 " The book? " he repeated innocently. " I s'pose 
 the Boche captured that, too." 
 
 Both policemen fell into the trap. Their eyes met 
 in a stare full of meaning. 
 
 " The Boche ! " exclaimed the sergeant. " Then 
 it was a spy as . . ." He paused, remembering his 
 orders not to divulge to his victim the object of his 
 questions. 
 
 " Look 'ere," said Bill, who was beginning to 
 enjoy himself. "What's this all about, any'ow? 
 Where did you get the book from, an' what's it got 
 to do with the police? "
 
 260 ALF'S BUTTON 
 
 u This chap Smith, now," resumed the sergeant 
 blandly, ignoring Bill's questions. " What sort of 
 a lookin' feller might 'e be, now? " 
 
 Bill pondered. 
 
 " Mind you," he said, with the air of an honest 
 man who does not want to mislead his audience, " I 
 can't be sure 'is name was Smith. Might 'a been 
 Brown or Thompson. One o' them common 
 names, any'ow. 'E was one o' them middlin' chaps, 
 not exactly dark, you know an' yet I don't know 
 as I should call 'im fair. 'E 'ad blue eyes, an' 'e 
 said 'e come from Lambeth. P'raps they'll know 'im 
 there." 
 
 " We might ask the recruiting office," said the 
 sergeant to the painstaking Collins, now laboriously 
 engaged in taking down Bill's minute description of 
 Mr. " Conky " Smith (or Brown or Thompson) of 
 Lambeth. 
 
 " You might," agreed Bill. " But o' course," he 
 went on helpfully, " 'e might not 'ave been in Lam- 
 beth when 'e joined up. P'raps 'e 'listed in Scotland, 
 seein' 'e was in a Jocks regiment." 
 
 The sergeant rose to his feet with a sigh. He had 
 started out with high hopes, but now he felt that he 
 was not very much further forward than before with 
 the Manor Mystery. 
 
 " Well," he said. " If that's all you knows, I'll 
 be getting along. Good afternoon, mum. Sorry to 
 'ave troubled you." 
 
 Mrs. Grant gave a grunt, and looked anything but 
 pleasant. She followed her visitors to the door
 
 MRS. GRANT'S DIPLOMACY 261 
 
 with the sourest of faces. But on the doorstep her 
 demeanor changed with startling suddenness. She 
 became positively effusive, making one or two little 
 jokes at which the sergeant, puzzled, but relieved at 
 her change of attitude, roared appreciatively. 
 Finally she insisted on shaking hands with both offi- 
 cers, and as they tramped off down the street she 
 stood at her door, waving her hand at their uncon- 
 scious backs. Having thus appeased the curiosity 
 and disappointed the hopes of all the dear friends 
 and neighbors who had been waiting in ghoulish joy 
 to find out the nature of the police visit to her house, 
 she returned to her son, who, very pleased with him- 
 self, was smiling at his reflection in the mirror. 
 
 " An' now," she said briskly, " what's all this 
 about, eh? What's all this talk about books, an' 
 spies, an' Mr. Bloomin' Conky o' Lambeth, eh? " 
 
 " You 'eard what I told 'im," said Bill. 
 
 " Yes, an' I knows enough about you, Bill Grant, 
 to tell when you're lyin'. I didn't meet yer this 
 week for the first time. Now let's 'ave the truth. 
 What d'you mean by bringin' the police into a re- 
 spectable 'ouse, eh?" 
 
 Bill looked round him in hunted fashion. Then, 
 obeying his lifelong instinct that in dealing with his 
 mother, discretion was the better part of valor, he 
 picked up his cap and backed to the door. He 
 mumbled something about "Step out an' 'ave a 
 look round " and was gone. 
 
 His mother glared furiously at the door. If only 
 she had thought to lock it when the policemen went !
 
 262 ALPS BUTTON 
 
 But -she wasted no time in useless regrets. When 
 Bill came back to supper she'd get it all out of him. 
 Meanwhile it might be as well to go out and explain 
 to one or two neighbors how her two cousins in the 
 police force had been to see her. She put on her 
 bonnet and went. 
 
 Bill, skulking at the corner of the street, waited 
 till she was out of sight. Then, slipping into the 
 house, he collected his kit and his rifle, and went to 
 a Y.M.C.A. at Victoria, and there he spent the night. 
 Mrs. Grant did not see her son again before he de- 
 parted for the front; she was thus free to invent her 
 own reasons for his visit from the police. But she 
 never connected Bill with the statement which ap- 
 peared subsequently in the less dignified newspapers. 
 
 " The Denmore Manor Mystery still continues to 
 baffle the most acute intellects of the police force. It 
 is, however, certain, from evidence of the most un- 
 impeachable nature, that the whole affair is a plot of 
 German intrigue and the Hidden Hand. When will 
 the Government . . .? Etc., etc." 
 
 Bill, on the steamer crossing from England to 
 France, read this passage aloud to Alf, to whom he 
 had already recounted the story of " Conky." 
 
 " You are a one, Bill," said Higgins, quite in his 
 ancient vein of fervent admiration. 
 
 Bill merely looked self-conscious. He felt that 
 the tribute was no more than his due.
 
 CHAPTER XVII 
 
 THE FATE OF THE BUTTON 
 
 NEITHER of the two friends could have said 
 with truth that he was sorry to see France 
 once more. 
 
 Alf had a. feeling that now, at any rate, his dis- 
 astrous venture into high life and the public eye was 
 really behind him. He could slip back thankfully 
 into his old routine as an unconsidered cog in an 
 enormous machine, and be lost in the friendly obscur- 
 ity. The Button still hung from its string round his 
 neck. He determined that it should continue to 
 hang there; he was afraid to dispose of it, in case 
 it should fall into the hands of some other man and 
 be used for unimaginable evil. He had an almost 
 fanatical determination that he himself should never 
 again test the Button's supernatural powers; but 
 in addition, he felt that he had a sacred charge to 
 prevent anybody else from doing so. When he had 
 left the Base and was already in the leave train and 
 bound for the line, he realized that his best course 
 would have been to drop the Button into the sea 
 on his way across. But the idea came to him as 
 ideas generally came to Alf too late. 
 
 Bill's feeling towards France was different. He 
 had no love for the place in itself; but considered as 
 a mere means to his great end, it had its uses. Now 
 that he and Alf were back in the grip of the military 
 life, where no man can avoid his neighbor without 
 
 263
 
 264 ALF'S BUTTON 
 
 that neighbor's connivance and sometimes not 
 even then he hoped and believed that he would 
 find an early opportunity of obtaining the Button 
 from its unappreciative owner; and then good by 
 forever to France and all that it stood for. 
 
 No reference to the Button was ever allowed to 
 creep into his conversation now. The simple- 
 minded Alf , if he noticed this at all, thought it meant 
 that Bill had forgotten about it. But Bill had not 
 forgotten. He was merely biding his time. 
 
 The battalion was in billets when the two men 
 rejoined it. They reported themselves to C.S.M. 
 French, who directed them to their own platoon. 
 
 " 'Ullo," said Sergeant Lees, when they appeared 
 before him. " So you're back, are yer? Well, just 
 you be'ave yerselves, see? I got as much on me 
 'ands as I can blinkin' well stand without 'avin' any 
 trouble from you."' 
 
 They found their own section installed in a small 
 barn. Corporal Greenstock, like his superior, 
 greeted them without enthusiasm. They settled 
 down amid the straw. 
 
 " Well, and how is Blighty? " asked Private Den- 
 ham. 
 
 " All right. I ain't sorry to be back," replied 
 Bill. There were cries of incredulity from the sec- 
 tion. 
 
 " Easy enough to talk," Walls remarked. 
 
 " Well, it's true." 
 
 " It won't stay true long, anyhow." 
 
 "Why not?" 

 
 THE FATE OF THE BUTTON 265 
 
 " We're off up the line in a few days. Into a 
 lively bit, too." 
 
 "Ah!" commented Bill. "I thought the ser- 
 geant seemed to 'ave something on 'is mind." 
 
 " But that's not all. We got a new officer." 
 
 " The devil we 'ave. What's 'e like ? " 
 
 " Wait an' see. You will, fast enough." 
 
 Alf, who had so far had a listening part only, 
 made a remark. 
 
 " Cap'en Richards back? " he asked. 
 
 " A week ago," said the corporal. " But they've 
 took Donaldson away to be O.C. ' A ' Company. 
 'E's -a captain now." 
 
 Alf was much relieved at this information. He 
 had a great admiration for Donaldson, but was 
 afraid of that officer's exceedingly sharp eye and his 
 habit of asking awkward questions. Bill also 
 felt that this latest move of the Powers that were, 
 augured well for his scheme. 
 
 " 'Shun ! " yelled Corporal Greenstock suddenly. 
 The section rose to its feet in the straw as Sergeant 
 Lees entered, followed by the platoon commander. 
 
 Second-Lieutenant Stockley was a man of about 
 forty years of age, as his grizzled hair testified. He 
 was a big man, with a splendid pair of well-drilled 
 shoulders, and a broad chest which showed up to the 
 best advantage an imposing row of medal-ribbons. 
 Altogether he looked, to the casual glance, far more 
 like a distinguished colonel than a junior subaltern. 
 He was, in fact, an ex-sergeant-major, promoted for 
 gallantry in the field.
 
 266 ALF'S BUTTON 
 
 His inspection of the section billet was carried out 
 with a thoroughness hitherto unheard of. He di- 
 rected Corporal Greenstock's attention to a hole in 
 the roof with an air of faint reproof which sug- 
 gested that a really efficient N.C.O. would have 
 remedied such defects without being told; after which 
 the usually imperturbable corporal, losing his nerve 
 entirely, followed his platoon commander round the 
 billet agitatedly explaining away defects before the 
 officer had time to criticise. Sergeant Lees, who was 
 accustomed with the ordinary subaltern to act as 
 spokesman and master of the ceremonies, hung about 
 anxiously in the offing. Even he was plainly feeling 
 the strain of living up to this super-efficient new 
 officer. Bill began to understand why he had 
 seemed to have " something on his mind." 
 
 As Mr. Stockley concluded his examination and 
 turned to go, his eye rested on Alf and Bill. 
 
 " Two men here I don't know, sergeant," he said. 
 " Names, please." 
 
 " Higgins and Grant, sir." 
 
 "Where from?" 
 
 " Leave, sir." 
 
 "Umph! Corporal!!" 
 
 "Sir!" 
 
 Corporal Greenstock's attitude of attention might 
 well have been photographed and used as a model 
 for recruits. 
 
 " See those two get cleaned up before I see them 
 again. May do for Blighty, won't do for me." 
 
 Bill looked after the officer's retreating form.
 
 THE FATE OF THE BUTTON 267 
 
 " Lumme ! " he commented. " 'Ot stuff, eh? " 
 
 " You bet," said the corporal. " An' arter what 
 'e said you'd better be 'ot stuff too, my lad, by to- 
 morrow, or Vll be biting you in the neck an' me, 
 too." 
 
 " 'As 'e been in the line yet? " asked Alf. 
 
 " Not with us, 'e 'asn't. But 'e was a fair terror 
 with 'is old battalion, they say. 'E's killed nigh on 
 fifty Fritzies 'imself, first an' last, an' on'y for a bit 
 o' bad luck 'e'd 'ave 'ad the V.C. Some soldier! " 
 
 " I expect," put in a gloomy voice, " as 'ow Vs 
 one o' these 'ere interferin' fellers as can't let well 
 alone. When 'e gets into the trenches 'e'll never be 
 satisfied with a quiet life, you'll see." 
 
 Corporal Greenstock grinned. 
 
 "Quiet life?" he said. "Not much! This 
 blinkin' platoon'll spend all its time crawlin' about 
 No-Man's Land on its stummick, when it ain't doin' 
 bombing raids into Fritz's trenches. You'll see." 
 
 Bill had an instinctive feeling that the corporal 
 was right. Mr. Stockley had the air of a man who 
 did not do things by halves; and the ribbons of the 
 Military Medal, the D.C.M. and the Military 
 Cross (a distinction only rarely conferred on ser- 
 geant-majors) testified to his fighting qualities. As 
 to his thoroughness on parade, it was not long be- 
 fore both Higgins and Grant became painfully aware 
 of that. Their long spell of leave had left them 
 rather out of touch with military life, and they fell 
 very far short of their new commander's minimum 
 standard.
 
 268 ALFS BUTTON 
 
 " This life ain't what it was, Alf," Bill confided 
 one day, busy with oil-bottle and pull-through on the 
 working parts of his rifle. 
 
 Alf said nothing. His temper was ruffled. He 
 was engaged in polishing to a dazzling brightness a 
 bayonet which he considered was already as clean as 
 any reasonable man could desire ; he had a constitu- 
 tional objection to gilding refined gold and to paint- 
 ing lilies an objection, however, which was not 
 shared by his officer. He continued to polish in 
 morose silence. 
 
 Bill fell into a brown study. The more he saw 
 of Mr. Stockley the more he admired him and the 
 more bitterly he cursed the fate that had thrown 
 them together. Stories of Stockley' s dare-devil 
 deeds and hairbreadth escapes were circulating freely 
 about the battalion, and the more Grant heard the 
 less he liked the prospect of venturing into the line 
 under the leadership of such a firebrand. Bill was 
 by nature a peaceable person, who considered his 
 duty to his country was done so long as he helped 
 to man the front line from time to time, and also 
 occasionally, in a decent, well-ordered manner, went 
 over the top. He regarded the energetic dare- 
 devilry by which Stockley interpreted the word 
 " warfare " as he would have regarded big-game 
 hunting an amusement to be restricted entirely to 
 such lunatics as liked it. The thought of spending 
 his time crawling about No-Man's Land filled him 
 with forebodings, and gave him a new and powerful 
 reason for attempting to obtain the Button from Alf 
 at the earliest possible moment.
 
 THE FATE OF THE BUTTON 269 
 
 He began to watch the unconscious Alf and to 
 shadow him after the manner of the lynx-eyed detec- 
 tive of fiction; but somehow time slipped away with- 
 out giving him the opportunity he sought. One 
 thing was certain; he must make quite sure of the 
 success of any scheme before he put it into execution. 
 One false step one bungled attempt would ruin 
 all his hopes; Bill was confident that if once Alf's 
 suspicions were roused, he would get rid of the talis- 
 man altogether possibly, for instance, by burying 
 it. The problem was in consequence not an easy 
 one, and Bill was no nearer its solution when, on 
 the third day following their return, the brigade 
 received its marching order for the forward 
 area. 
 
 Time was growing short; but fate played into 
 Bill's hands, granting him at any rate a brief respite. 
 The 5th Battalion was to be in Reserve to begin 
 with. 
 
 "Huh!" said Alf. "Workin' parties for us. 
 'Ow very nice ! " 
 
 Sergeant Lees, who happened to be present, caught 
 this remark, and turned to the speaker in well-simu- 
 lated surprise. 
 
 " Why, 'Iggins," he said, " I wonder at yer. 
 On'y a month ago, before you went on leave, you was 
 that fond o' workin' parties there was no keepin' you 
 off 'em." 
 
 Alf, who had learnt by experience the curious 
 nature of his sergeant's sense of humor, gave a sickly 
 smile and said nothing. The section sniggered 
 sycophantically.
 
 270 ALPS BUTTON 
 
 On the march next day, both the friends found to 
 their cost that a sybaritic life in the lap of luxury 
 is not the best preparation for an active-service 
 route march. The first halt saw them not only badly 
 blown and streaming with sweat, but also beginning 
 to be footsore. 
 
 " Umph ! " said the sergeant caustically. " It's 
 easy to see 'ow some people spend their leave. 
 What you two want is a little 'ard P.T. 'Owever, 
 some o' these working parties you're so fond of '11 
 soon put you right." 
 
 Sergeant Lees was an economical humorist. 
 
 Soon a whistle blew, and the column fell in again. 
 At every step the poor condition of Privates Higgins 
 and Grant became more noticeable, and the rest of 
 the section, swinging along in fine style, only showed 
 them up more plainly. The weight of their packs 
 began to increase steadily and relentlessly, until it 
 seemed that something must break soon. A dull 
 pain began to make itself felt across their shoulders, 
 increasing little by little until it became a raging tor- 
 ment like a toothache. They set their teeth and 
 plodded on; the battalion was proud of its march- 
 ing. At last, when the pain was wellnigh unbear- 
 able, the blessed sound of the whistle was heard. 
 The battalion fell out for another ten minutes' 
 halt. 
 
 The expression '' fell out " was true in its most 
 literal sense of Alf and Bill. They lay side by side, 
 every aching muscle relaxed, determined to make 
 good use of every second of their rest. 

 
 THE FATE OF THE BUTTON 271 
 
 It was at this auspicious moment that Mr. Stockley 
 chose to notice them. 
 
 He himself seemed as fresh as when he started 
 out, despite the fact that he had been carrying two 
 men's rifles in addition to his own kit. He came 
 swinging along the road during the halt with a 
 jaunty step and an air of physical well-being which 
 it made Alf and Bill feel faint to look upon. 
 
 He stopped and regarded the collapsed forms of 
 the two friends with a disapproving air. 
 
 " Very out of condition," he commented. They 
 made convulsive efforts to rise, but he waved them 
 back. " No, no I " he said. " Lie still. Need a 
 rest. But warn you won't do. Going into the 
 line; every man must be fit for anything. Must 
 sweat off that fat." 
 
 He went off, leaving the two men more conscious 
 of their flabbiness than ever. 
 
 " Makes me tired, 'e do," complained Bill. " I 
 don't b'lieve I can march another step. I've a good 
 mind not to fall in at all." 
 
 But at this moment a welcome message reached 
 them from the head of the column. Their destina- 
 tion, it appeared, was now only half an hour's march 
 away; and as they were now entering the forward 
 area, platoons would march from here at intervals of 
 a hundred yards. As the companies were marching 
 in alphabetical order, this meant that " C " Com- 
 pany would have a further rest while " A " and " B " 
 were getting under way. Alf and Bill, giving 
 much thanks for this relief, lay down again; and
 
 272 ALPS BUTTON 
 
 when at last No. 9 Platoon moved on again they 
 .were able to move with it in comparative comfort. 
 
 That night, when every occupant of his dug-out 
 had at long last dropped off to sleep, Bill lay awake, 
 tingling with excitement. Striking a match with the 
 utmost caution, he fished out from his tunic pocket 
 an enormous clasp-knife, which he opened. Then 
 he lit a piece of candle-end and, shading it carefully 
 with his hand, he leant over the sleeping form of his 
 mate; but all he could see was a tightly rolled and 
 shapeless cocoon. Alf 's method of using his blanket 
 left Bill no possible chance of getting at the string 
 which bore the Button. 
 
 One of the men stirred in his sleep, and Bill, ex- 
 tinguishing his light, gave himself up to slumber in 
 a very disturbed state of mind. Come what might, 
 by some means or other he must get that Button in 
 time to prevent No. 9 Platoon from being let into the 
 front line by its present commander. 
 
 Next day, things became worse than ever. Mr. 
 Stockley was detailed to take out a working-party 
 consisting of his own platoon and to dig a length of 
 trench behind the British lines. He took this oppor- 
 tunity of beginning the process of sweating the fat 
 off Alf and Bill. He himself, with his coat off and 
 his immense arms bare to the elbow, was doing two 
 men's work; and he made it his personal duty to see 
 that Higgins and Grant did at least two men's work 
 between them. 
 
 At the end of the day's work both men were stiffer 
 than they had dreamt possible ; they went through a
 
 THE FATE OF THE BUTTON 273 
 
 pantomime expressive of acute agony, which 
 Stockley saw as he was intended to. 
 
 He laughed. 
 
 " Thank me later," he said. " Stiff time coming 
 in front line. Must be fit. May save your lives." 
 
 And he fell his party in and marched it back to the 
 lines. 
 
 The position was fast becoming impossible. Bill's 
 determination not to trust himself in the line under 
 Stockley's command had become a raging obsession, 
 and yet he could see no way of getting the Button. 
 That night he morosely watched his unconscious 
 friend making himself into a chrysalis for the night. 
 
 " Alf," he said with guile, " don't you feel it 
 'orrid 'ot these nights, rolled up in a great thick 
 blanket like that? " 
 
 " I likes to be warm at night," answered a muffled 
 voice from within the folds. 
 
 " But it's so un'ealthy," urged Bill. 
 
 Alf's tousled head and astonished face appeared 
 at one end of the cocoon. 
 
 " Ho ! " he said suspiciously. " And since when 
 'ave you been troubling your 'ed about my 'ealth, eh?" 
 
 Bill abandoned the topic, feeling very annoyed. 
 If the simple Alf was beginning so readily to ques- 
 tion the purity of his motives, he foresaw that he 
 would have to take desperate risks. He would have 
 to lure his friend into a remote spot and extract the 
 Button from him by the old " Stand-and-Deliver " 
 method. But this method had the disadvantage that 
 Bill was not at all sure that, man to man, Alf was
 
 274 ALPS BUTTON 
 
 not the stronger of the two. He must rely on the 
 essence of strategy surprise. But how? And 
 when? . . . He passed a disturbed night; and the 
 sounds of peaceful slumber proceeding from the 
 apparently hermetically sealed bundle at his side 
 failed to soothe him in any way. 
 
 Next morning, Sergeant Lees appeared in the dug- 
 out with the exasperatingly superior air he always 
 assumed when he had important or interesting news 
 to tell. After his custom at such times, he dis- 
 tributed trivial orders and asked unimportant ques- 
 tions until the men about him were on the verge 
 of apoplexy from sheer irritation and excitement. 
 Then he produced an item of news. 
 
 ' We move up into support to-morrow, relievin' 
 the 4th," he stated. " Front line four days later.'' 
 
 There was a general movement of disappointment. 
 Most of the men would quite certainly have pre- 
 ferred to move straight up into the line and get their 
 tour of duty therein finished. There was a general 
 impression abroad that things were gradually blow- 
 ing up to a storm, and that the brigade's last four 
 days in the front trenches would be the worst. The 
 pessimists were unanimously of opinion that the 5th 
 Battalion had been allotted these four days owing to 
 malice aforethought on the part of the Higher Com- 
 mand. 
 
 " It'll be a thick time," said somebody. 
 
 " Yes," agreed somebody else. " Especially with 
 'im in charge." 
 
 Then Sergeant Lees, with the air of a careful 

 
 THE FATE OF THE BUTTON 275 
 
 dramatist who is congratulating himself that he has 
 succeeded in keeping his big thrill till the very end of 
 his play, added his second piece of news. 
 
 " Lootenant Stockley is leavin' us to-day, for to 
 undergo a course at one of these 'ere schools, or 
 something." 
 
 " Lumme ! " said an awed voice. " What the 'ell 
 do they think they can teach 'im? " 
 
 Bill, when he heard the sergeant's news, felt like 
 a condemned criminal who is reprieved just as the 
 hangman is fitting the rope round his neck. He was 
 now sure of getting the two things he had lacked so 
 far for the fulfillment of his scheme time and op- 
 portunity. Time, because Mr. Stockley would now 
 not be in charge of the platoon ; opportunity, because 
 in the support lines Alf would no longer enjoy the 
 protection of his beloved blanket. 
 
 In fact, orders for their -immediate collection and 
 delivery to the quartermaster were even now on 
 their way round the battalion by the hands of " run- 
 ners." Bill had a vision of Alf sleeping with open 
 tunic and bare neck, and he realized that to a patient 
 and watchful conspirator the Rape of the Button 
 could only be a matter of days perhaps of hours. 
 And once the Button had changed hands, the fear- 
 ful souls who had prophesied that the 5th Battalion's 
 next tour in the trenches would be full of battle, mur- 
 der and sudden death, might take fresh courage. 
 That tour of duty would never come. The War 
 would be over or if not over, it would have de- 
 volved into a route-march. And then .
 
 276 ALPS BUTTON 
 
 Bill never allowed his imagination to tempt him 
 beyond this point. Sufficient for the day was the 
 miracle thereof. Let him once get hold of the But- 
 ton and he and Eustace would not be at any loss what 
 to do. Only, behind and beyond his earth-shaking 
 schemes for the good of his country was one very 
 definite and private project closely connected with 
 his vanished handmaid Lucy and his interrupted sup- 
 ply of beer. But this idea was never allowed to 
 encroach upon his mind too much; he never forgot 
 that before he could realize it, broader issues were 
 to be dealt with. 
 
 On the following day the battalion moved up 
 into the support line and settled down into its new 
 dug-outs with the speed that only comes with experi- 
 ence. During the relief there was a certain amount 
 of shelling going on, but there were no casualties. 
 " C " Company was distributed to its dug-outs with- 
 out undue fuss. Captain Richards, going the round 
 of his company, gave a .word of advice. 
 
 " Get what sleep you can, you men," he said. 
 " They're very jumpy to-night in the front line, and 
 you may have to tumble out at any minute. Keep 
 your equipment by you and your boots on." 
 
 Bill and Alf were allotted with four others to a 
 small dug-out. Bill, whose mind was still bent on 
 his single aim, piloted his friend into a recess in 
 which there was room for two only; and all six 
 loosening their tunics and the belts of their equip- 
 ment, settled themselves to sleep. Bill, who had de- 
 termined to lie awake watching his chance, was the 

 
 THE FATE OF THE BUTTON 277 
 
 first man to go to sleep; and, as the irony of fate 
 would have it, Alf selected this time of all others to 
 turn upon his back and remain in that position. His 
 opened tunic fell away from his neck, and the talis- 
 man lay in the little hollow between his collar-bones 
 the easiest of preys for the patient and watchful 
 conspirator aforesaid. A couple of hours passed in 
 which nothing could be heard in the dugout but a 
 nasal sextet of harmony and power, to which the 
 guns far above supplied a desultory obbligato. 
 
 At length a cautious footfall sounded on the stair, 
 and Sergeant Lees appeared. He flashed his electric 
 torch round the dug-out, then he went to each of the 
 recumbent forms on the floor and shook them. 
 
 " You four," he whispered, careful not to wake the 
 two in the recess, of whom he could see nothing but 
 boot-soles. " Come up to Company H.Q. at once. 
 The Captain's got a job for you. Quiet, now." 
 
 But quiet as they were, they woke Bill. He sat 
 up dazedly, wondering where the others had gone. 
 He was seized with a wild panic. Had they missed 
 him out by accident? Ought he to follow? Then 
 he realized that he was not quite alone. Alf, who 
 had taken the bass part in the recent sextet, was 
 maintaining it as a sok) with undiminished vigor. 
 
 Grant struck a match and held it above his head, 
 and realized that here at last was his opportunity. 
 He was alone with Alf in the dug-out and there, 
 before his eyes, was the longed-for Button. Trem- 
 bling with excitement, he fished out his haversack and 
 produced an ancient and depressed-looking piece of
 
 278 ALF'S BUTTON 
 
 candle, lit it, and stuck it on a beam. Then he drew 
 his bayonet, and leant over his friend. Cautiously, 
 not daring to breathe, he inserted the point of his 
 weapon beneath the string that bore the talisman. 
 One sharp cut, and the Button would be his. His 
 hand shook on the handle of the bayonet so violently 
 that the point rattled on Alf 's collar-bone ; and Alf 's 
 eyes opened. 
 
 It must have been sufficiently terrifying to him, 
 awaking from a deep sleep, to find a grimy man 
 kneeling over him in the eerie light of a sputtering 
 candle-end, and holding a naked bayonet to his 
 throat. He lay as still as death, and his round blue 
 eyes widened until they seemed to protrude from 
 their sockets. 
 
 Bill had gone too far now to hesitate or turn back. 
 
 " If you move a finger, Alf 'Iggins," he said, in a 
 melodramatic whisper, " it is your last. I'm goin' 
 to 'ave that Button." 
 
 The bayonet jerked up as the string snapped, and 
 Bill, reaching out, felt his fingers close at last upon 
 the object of his desires. 
 
 Alf's wits came back to him. He sat up. 
 
 " Gimme that back," he ordered violently. 
 " 'Tain't yours. Gimme it ! " 
 
 "Not much!" answered Bill. u Now for it! 
 Now for Kaiser Bill and the end o' the war ! ! What- 
 oh! Now for . . . Lumme, what the 'ell's that? " 
 
 " That " was a sudden terrific bombardment which 
 broke out overhead, of an intensity which made the 
 dug-out walls quiver. As they stood listening open- 

 
 THE FATE OF THE BUTTON 279 
 
 mouthed, a thin voice the voice of Corporal 
 Greenstock floated down the staircase to them. 
 
 " Tumble out there, quickly," it said. " The 
 Boche is comin' over." A pause. " D'you 'ear 
 me?" 
 
 " Comin', corp'ril," shouted Bill. All thought of 
 Eustace, the Button, the Kaiser everything had 
 vanished instantly from his mind. He thrust the 
 precious Button carelessly into a pocket, grabbed his 
 rifle and tore upstairs, followed by Alf. Then they 
 found themselves doubling up a communication 
 trench under the leadership of Lieutenant Shaw. 
 Nobody seemed to know what had happened, or 
 exactly what they were going to do except that 
 they were going to kill Boches. 
 
 The German guns were shelling the communica- 
 tion trenches to prevent the British supports from 
 coming up, and whizz-bangs were bursting all about 
 them. But they had no time to pay attention to 
 details of that kind the one desire was to get on 
 and into the front line. At last they turned a corner, 
 and plunged into the thick of a hand-to-hand struggle. 
 Neither Alf nor Bill had a very coherent memory of 
 what happened in the next few minutes. They re- 
 member heaving and hacking and stabbing at innu- 
 merable greasy Huns. Then suddenly the Huns 
 seemed to melt away and disappear; the two men 
 realized dimly that the trench was cleared and the 
 enemy in flight, and they sat down to rest, feeling 
 dizzy and badly winded. 
 
 But as soon as the raiding party were clear of the
 
 280 ALPS BUTTON 
 
 British trenches the guns began again. A whizz- 
 bang dropped into the trench where the two friends 
 were sitting, and burst. That was the last thing 
 that Bill Grant knew until he woke some days later 
 to find himself in a Casualty Clearing Station. 
 
 A Sister came towards him. 
 
 " Awake at last," she said cheerily. 
 
 He stared stupidly at her. 
 
 "Where am I?" he said. "Where's Alf 
 Tggins?" 
 
 " Next bed, ole son," said a weak voice. " Leg 
 broke." 
 
 Bill pondered this information for a space. Then 
 a thought struck him and he sat up with a jerk. The 
 Sister came over to him. 
 
 " You must lie down and keep quiet," she said. 
 
 " The Button ! " exclaimed Bill fiercely. 
 
 The Sister looked anxious. 
 
 " There, there ! " she said, in a soothing tone. 
 " Just lie down and be quiet. You were knocked 
 silly by a shell, you know, but you're all right now. 
 Lie down at once." 
 
 " I want my Button," he reiterated, struggling 
 with her. " Gimme my Button, an' I'll lie down." 
 
 The Sister turned to Alf. 
 
 "What does he mean?" she asked quietly. " I 
 believe he's wandering." 
 
 " No, no ! " said Alf. " The Button. It's most 
 important." 
 
 " Well," replied the Sister, mystified but relieved 

 
 THE FATE OF THE BUTTON 281 
 
 that Bill was apparently not raving after all. 
 " Your tunic was in such a mess it was burnt, but I 
 kept your buttons and the things in your pockets. 
 I'll get them, if you'll lie still." 
 
 She produced a collection of miscellaneous rubbish. 
 Bill sorted out the buttons and rubbed each one in 
 turn feverishly, forgetful of the probable effect on 
 the Sister if Eustace had suddenly appeared. But 
 he did not. 
 
 " Duds, all of 'em," said Bill dismally. 
 " Lumme ! What did I do with it. ... I 
 know ! " He shouted in sudden inspiration. " I 
 put it in me right-' and trouser-pocket. Sister, do 
 please 'ave a look in me trousers. Please ! " 
 
 The two men waited in a tense silence till she 
 returned. 
 
 " Now," she said severely. " No more non- 
 sense, please. You must both lie down and keep 
 quiet. There's nothing in your trousers pockets 
 except a large hole." 
 
 THE END
 
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