e! Indecent, I call it!"

The speaker was the little wire-haired man; and emotion, deep and angry,
stirred in Mr. Bosengate. That ill-bred little cur! He gripped the edge
of the table with both hands.

"I think it's d-----d natural!" he muttered. But almost before the words
had left his lips he felt dismay. What had he said--he, nearly a colonel
of volunteers--endorsing such a want of patriotism! And hearing the
commercial traveller murmuring: "'Ear, 'ear!" he reddened violently.

The wire-headed man said roughly:

"There's too many of these blighted shirkers, and too much pampering of
them."

The turmoil in Mr. Bosengate increased; he remarked in an icy voice:

"I agree to no verdict that'll send the man back to prison."

At this a real tremor seemed to go round the table, as if they all saw
themselves sitting there through lunch time. Then the large grey-haired
man given to winking, said:

"Oh! Come, sir--after what the judge said! Come, sir! What do you say,
Mr. Foreman?"

Gentleman Fox--as who should say 'This is excellent value, but I don't
wish to press it on you!'--answered:

"We are only concerned with the facts. Did he or did he not try to
shorten his life?"

"Of course he did--said so himself," Mr. Bosengate heard the wire-haired
man snap out, and from the following murmur of assent he alone
abstained. Guilty! Well--yes! There was no way out of admitting that,
but his feelings revolted against handing "that poor little beggar" over
to the tender mercy of his country's law. His whole soul rose in arms
against agreeing with that ill-bred little cur, and the rest of this
job-lot. He had an impulse to get up and walk out, saying: "Settle it
your own way. Good morning."

"It seems, sir," Gentleman Fox was saying, "that we're all agreed to
guilty, except yourself. If you will allow me, I don't see how you can
go behind what the prisoner himself admitted."

Thus brought up to the very guns, Mr. Bosengate, red in the face, thrust
his hands deep into the side pockets of his tunic, and, staring straight
before him, said:

"Very well; on condition we recommend him to mercy."

"What do you say, gentlemen; shall we recommend him to mercy?"

"'Ear, 'ear!" burst from the commercial traveller, and from the chemist
came the murmur:

"No harm in that."

"Well, I think there is. They shoot deserters at the front, and we let
this fellow off. I'd hang the cur."

Mr. Bosengate stared at that little wire-hai