struck out a convincing line of
argument, "Look at 'im, the bloomin' slacker--the pasty h'aristocrat. 'E
didn't see no fightin'. Not 'im. But now the war's been won by poor
blokes like meself, 'e ain't ashamed ter go banging abart in h'Army
cars."

"I know how you feel," Tabs said. "But you're mistaken; I served in the
ranks two years myself. I was only demobbed yesterday; to-day's my first
day out of uniform. I'll pay you whatever you think fair; so you don't
need to work yourself up."

The man's attitude changed completely. He removed his cap and scratched
his head. "Served in the ranks, did yer? Then you and me was pals out
there!" He turned to the policeman, "'E ain't done me as much damidge as
if one of them there Big Berthas 'ad landed."

The policeman let his fat eyes wander from the coster to Tabs, from Tabs
back to the coster. "I wuz too old ter go," he said inconsequently; "but
me son's out there and won't ever come back." He crossed out the
particulars he had written down so laboriously; when that was done, he
fumbled his note-book back into his pocket. "If your mate 'ere says that
it's h'all right, sir, it's h'all right so far as I'm consarned. Your
fust day h'out of the h'Army! Well, well!" He looked at Terry with a
world of understanding, wheeled about slowly and went ponderously back
to his corner.

"That was sportsmanly of you." It was Tabs speaking. "I'd like to know
how much----"

The coster shook his head. "It don't cost you nothink. Me and you used
ter share."

Tabs protested. The man climbed the running-board and pushed his
grime-stained hand into the car. "Call it quits, mister, and shake for
luck. And now the little lady, if she don't h'object."

Terry shook his hand daintily. So there wasn't going to be a fight after
all! Everything had been settled amicably! With an air of disappointment
the crowd dispersed.

"Came pretty well out of that!" Tabs remarked as the car started
forward.

"You're not to talk." Terry's voice was high-strung and emphatic. "You
can't talk and drive--and you've got to drive like mad."

"Why? What's the hurry?"

"The hurry! We've wasted twenty minutes; we've barely time to get
there."

"Oh, the General! I'd forgotten. Well, it won't do the old boy any harm
to wait. Lord, the hours he and his sort have kept me waiting on
parade-grounds in France!"

Then he remembered that this General wasn't an old boy. If he wasn't
old, there was all the less reason for