ope to cope with the menace of the pirate submarine. We must have the
long vision, and not be scuppered by the fears of those who would deplete
our most vital industry . . . . In munition works," wailed Mr.
Lavender's voice, as he reached the fourth leader, "we still require the
maximum of effort, and a considerable reinforcement of manpower will in
that direction be necessary to enable us to establish the overwhelming
superiority in the air and in guns which alone can ensure the defeat of
our enemies".... He reached the fifth in what was almost a scream.
"Every man up to sixty must be mobilized but here we would utter the most
emphatic caveat. In the end this war will be won by the country whose
financial position stands the strain best. The last copper bullet will
be the deciding factor. Our economic strength must on no account be
diminished. We cannot at this time of day afford to deplete the ranks of
trade and let out the very life-blood in our veins." "We must see,"
groaned Mr. Lavender, "the problem steadily, and see it whole."

"Poor old geyser!" said the gardener; "'e do seem bad."

"Old me!" said Joe.

"I'll get on the sill and see what I can do through the top o' the
window."

He got up, and, held by the gardener, put his arm through. There was the
sound of considerable disturbance, and through the barking of Blink, Mr.
Lavender's voice was heard again: "Stanch in the middle of the cataclysm,
unruffled by the waters of heaven and hell, let us be captains of our
souls. Down, Blink, down!"

"He's out!" said Joe, rejoining the gardener. "Now for it, before my
missis comes!" and he ran into the house.

Mr. Lavender was walking dazedly in the hall with the journals held out
before him.

"Joe," he said, catching sight of his servant, "get the car ready. I must
be in five places at once, for only thus can we defeat the greatest
danger which ever threatened the future of civilization."

"Right-o, sir," replied Joe; and, waiting till his master turned round,
he seized him round the legs, and lifting that thin little body ascended
the stairs, while Mr. Lavender, with the journals waving fanlike in his
hands, his white hair on end, and his legs kicking, endeavoured to turn
his head to see what agency was moving him.

At the top of the stairs they came on Mrs. Petty, who, having Scotch
blood in her veins, stood against the wall to let them pass, with a hot
bottle in either hand. Having placed Mr. Lavender in his