" he said, and flung them down on the counter.

Wayne bent over them, and read on one--

"LAST FIGHTING.
REDUCTION OF THE CENTRAL DERVISH CITY.
REMARKABLE, ETC."

On the other he read--

"LAST SMALL REPUBLIC ANNEXED.
NICARAGUAN CAPITAL SURRENDERS AFTER A
MONTH'S FIGHTING.
GREAT SLAUGHTER."

Wayne bent over them again, evidently puzzled; then he looked at the
dates. They were both dated in August fifteen years before.

"Why do you keep these old things?" he said, startled entirely out of
his absurd tact of mysticism. "Why do you hang them outside your
shop?"

"Because," said the other, simply, "they are the records of the last
war. You mentioned war just now. It happens to be my hobby."

Wayne lifted his large blue eyes with an infantile wonder.

"Come with me," said Turnbull, shortly, and led him into a parlour at
the back of the shop.

In the centre of the parlour stood a large deal table. On it were set
rows and rows of the tin and lead soldiers which were part of the
shopkeeper's stock. The visitor would have thought nothing of it if it
had not been for a certain odd grouping of them, which did not seem
either entirely commercial or entirely haphazard.

"You are acquainted, no doubt," said Turnbull, turning his big eyes
upon Wayne--"you are acquainted, no doubt, with the arrangement of the
American and Nicaraguan troops in the last battle;" and he waved his
hand towards the table.

"I am afraid not," said Wayne. "I--"

"Ah! you were at that time occupied too much, perhaps, with the
Dervish affair. You will find it in this corner." And he pointed to a
part of the floor where there was another arrangement of children's
soldiers grouped here and there.

"You seem," said Wayne, "to be interested in military matters."

"I am interested in nothing else," answered the toy-shop keeper,
simply.

Wayne appeared convulsed with a singular, suppressed excitement.

"In that case," he said, "I may approach you with an unusual degree
of confidence. Touching the matter of the defence of Notting Hill,
I--"

"Defence of Notting Hill? Yes, sir. This way, sir," said Turnbull,
with great perturbation. "Just step into this side room;" and he led
Wayne into another apartment, in which the table was entirely covered
with an arrangement of children's bricks. A second glance at it told
Wayne that the bricks were arranged in the form of a precise and
perfect plan of Notting Hill. "Sir," said Turnbull, impressively, "y