the lugger-- D'you know Standish?"

The new-comer nodded a greeting, acknowledging the introduction.

"Station-mates in the East Indies, weren't we?" said Standish.

"That's right," replied the other. "I remember you: we were both in camp
together--way back in the 'Naughty Naughts.' We used to call you the
India-rubber Man--Bunje for short."

Standish laughed. "They do still," he said, "mine own familiar friends."

"Have a drop of whisky," interrupted the King's Messenger. "'Fraid I
haven't got a glass----"

The visitor hesitated. "Well, I've got old Mouldy Jakes in my
compartment. Can I bring him along: the old thing may get lonely. He
was in your term in the _Britannia_, wasn't he?"

"He was. Fetch him along," said the King's Messenger. "Standish wants
to know all about life in the Grand Fleet. You two ought to be able to
enlighten him a bit between you."

Thorogood contemplated the India-rubber Man thoughtfully.

"Just joining up? Mouldy and I have been there since January, '15--I'll
fetch him."

The speaker vanished and returned a moment later with a companion who
wore a Lieutenant's uniform, and carried a tooth-glass in his hand. His
lean, rather sallow face relaxed for an instant into a smile during the
process of introduction, and then resumed a mask-like gravity. He
up-ended a suit-case, sat down and silently eyed the others in turn.

"What have you two been doing?" asked the King's Messenger. "Been on
leave?"

"Yes," replied Thorogood. "I met Mouldy this morning, and we had a day
in town together."

"Brave man! I should be sorry to have had such a responsibility. What
did you do?"

"Well, we lunched with my Uncle Bill at his club----"

"That was nice for Uncle Bill--what then?"

"Uncle Bill had to go to the Admiralty, so I took Mouldy for a walk in
St. James's Park"--the speaker contemplated his friend sorrowfully--"and
I lost him."

The King's Messenger laughed. "What happened to you, Mouldy?"

The officer addressed put his empty glass between his knees and proceeded
to fill a cherrywood pipe of villainous aspect from a Korean oiled-silk
tobacco pouch.

"Took a flapper to the movies," was the grave and somewhat unexpected
reply.

Thorogood, lounging in any easy attitude against the door, took up the
tale of gallantry. "Apparently the star film of the afternoon was
'Britain's Sea-Dogs, or Jack-Tars at War,' and that appears to have been
too much for our little Lord