khaki uniform with a
rifle in his hand. The bayonet was fixed. I felt deeply thankful that
it was pointing upwards and not in a horizontal direction when the
porter charged me. It might quite easily have gone through my back.
This man appeared to be a kind of outpost sentry. Behind him, all
similarly armed, were twenty or thirty more men drawn up with their
backs to the wall of the station. A youth, who looked bored and
disgusted, was in command of them and stood at the end of the line.
His sword struck me as being far too big for him.

"Who on earth are those?" I said.

"Those," said Bob, "are the troops who are overawing us. Some of them.
There are lots more. You'll see them at every street corner as we go
along. By jove! I believe that's Nosey Henderson in command of this
detachment. Excuse me one moment, Lord Kilmore. Henderson was with me
at Harrow. I'll just shake hands with him."

He turned to the young officer as he spoke.

"Hullo Nosey," he said, "I didn't know you were in these parts."

"Ordered up from the Curragh," said Henderson. "Damned nuisance this
sort of police duty. We oughtn't to be asked to do it."

"Your particular job," said Bob, "is to overawe the railway porters, I
suppose."

"Been here since nine o'clock this morning," said Henderson, "and
haven't had a blessed thing to eat except two water biscuits. What's
the row all about? That's what I can't make out."

"Oh! It's quite simple," said Bob. "Our side wants to hold a
meeting--"

"You are on a side then, are you?"

"Of course I am," said Bob. "I'm in command of a company of
volunteers. We don't run to khaki uniforms and brass buttons, but
we've got guns all right."

"I say," said Henderson, "tell me this now. Any chance of a scrap?
Real fighting, you know? I've been asking all sorts of fellows, and
nobody seems to be able to say for certain."

"We shan't begin it," said Bob; "but, of course, if you get prodding
at us with those spikes you have at the end of your guns--"

"There are a lot of fellows in this town that would be all the better
of being prodded. Every porter that walks along the platform spits
when he passes us in a damned offensive way. You would think they
were looking for trouble."

The crowd round the luggage van cleared away a little and we found
Marion's trunk. Bob handed it over to a porter and we joined Marion in
the motor car.

The scene outside the station was striking. A considerable body of
dragoons,