re are two or
three," and he took them from his pocket.

Sam opened them and gazed at them entranced. There was page upon page
of his exploits, portraits of all kinds, biographies, anecdotes,
interviews, headlines, everything that his wildest dreams had imagined,
only grander and more glorious. There was nothing to be seen but the
words "Captain Jinks" from one end of the papers to the other.

"They've even got a song about you," said Cleary. "Here it is:

"'I'm Captain Jinks of the horse-marines.
I feed my horse on corn and beans.
Of course it's quite beyond my means,
Tho a captain in the army!'"

"I don't altogether like it," said Sam. "What are the horse-marines? I
don't believe there are any."

"Oh, that doesn't make any difference. It seems it's an old song that
was all the go long before our time, and your name has revived it. It
will advertise you splendidly. The whole thing is a grand piece of
work for _The Lyre_. Jonas has been congratulating me on it. He'd come
and tell you so, but he doesn't want to be seen with you. You've
censured out everything I've asked you to for him, and he doesn't want
people to know about his pull. That's the reason why he's never called
on you. But he says it's the best newspaper job he ever heard of. I
tell you we're a great combination, you and I. Perhaps I'll write a
book and call it, 'With Jinks at Havilla.' Rather an original title,
isn't it? But I'm afraid that all this talk at home will not make you
very popular with the officers here, who knew you when you were only a
captain. What would you say to being transferred to Porsslania? They
want new men for our army there, and I've half a mind to go too for a
change and act as the _Lyre's_ correspondent there. They'll do anything
I ask them now."

"I'd like it very much," said Sam. "I'm tired of this literary
business. But here we are. This is our depot."

The two men entered the long low building in which confiscated
property was stored. A soldier who was acting as watchman showed them
where the circulars were piled. Cleary took one and glanced over it.

[Illustration: CONSENT OF THE GOVERNED
"WHAT BUSINESS HAVE THESE PEOPLE TO TALK ABOUT EQUAL RIGHTS?"]

"As sure as fate, it's the Declaration of Independence!" he laughed.

Sam took up a copy and looked at it too.

"I believe it is," he said. "I didn't half look at it the other day.
I'm ever so much obliged to