CHAPTER XXXIV
AND LAST
"CHEER-O, Slogger!"
"Cheer-o, Moke!"
These, the curt but nevertheless brimful of meaning exchange of greetings when, four weeks later, Farrar and Sylvester met at Southampton Docks.
The sub's right hand was still swathed in surgical dressings, otherwise in appearance he was much the same as of yore, except that on the breast of his uniform coat he wore the ribbon of the Distinguished Service Order and the Distinguished Service Cross, for the young R.N.V.R. officer had pulled off a double event. The former distinction had been awarded for his services in strafing Fritz, the latter for conspicuous gallantry in extinguishing the flames that threatened to destroy the "Avenger" in mid-air.
"Congrats, old bird!" said the Moke heartily. "I saw the announcement in The Gazette. Now, how about it? You're coming back to Lynbury with me, I absolutely insist, and my people are expecting you. That's why I broke my journey from Waterloo."
Ten minutes previously Farrar would have firmly declined the invitation, but in his pocket reposed a recently opened telegram which read:
"Welcome home; we are returning to The Old Croft on Monday, when we shall be delighted to see you. Bruno awaits you. Winifred."
And the day was Friday. Three whole days, and then——
"Right-o," he replied to his chum's pressing invitation. "I'm on it, but I'll have to leave by the first train on Monday."
"What for?" demanded the astonished Sylvester. "Come, come, Slogger, why these unusual blushes that suffuse your cherubic visage? Do I tumble to it? Miss Greenwood? More congrats, you sly dog!"
"Yes," replied Farrar. "And I am the luckiest fellow in the whole wide world. Hullo, here's another old pal! Forgot to mention it before."
He indicated a young officer, upon whose sleeve two rings and a curl denoted that he was of the rank of lieutenant. He was limping slightly as he gripped the rail of the gangway with one hand and leant heavily upon a stick.
The Moke looked at the lieutenant, and then at the sub.
"Hanged if I can fix him," he remarked dubiously. "No, surely not?"
"Yes, it's Holcombe," declared Farrar. "Holcombe, my festive, you remember the Moke?"
"Good old Lynbury times," exclaimed Holcombe, grasping Sylvester's outstretched hand. "Of course I do. But, my word, Moke, you've altered some! Had a rotten time in Germany, I understand from Slogger; and a pretty exciting time the pair of you had in breaking out. What are you doing now?"
"Oh, just run down to have a pow-pow with Slogger," replied Sylvester. "You're coming along with us too, Holcombe. The more the merrier, if you don't mind nut-butter and a concoction of sawdust and Epsom Salts which we are beguiled into eating under the name of war-bread."
"Holcombe means, what are you doing to earn your rations, Moke?" interposed Farrar.
"They've pushed me into the Foreign Office," explained Sylvester. "Suppose they imagined that my experience in Germany might be of service. You see, I know a good deal of the internal conditions before war broke out."
"Just the sort of chap to do some good," replied Holcombe. "You'll be in the Corps Diplomatique yet—the Diplomatic Corpse as our old friend the Lynbury guard remarked on one occasion. Wonder if he's still in charge of the Lynbury and Marshton express?"
"Don't know, I'm sure," said the Moke. "But we'll soon find out."
"By the bye," remarked Holcombe, "have you heard anything about von Gobendorff?"
"Shot in the Tower," replied Farrar laconically. "Thank goodness I wasn't knocking around to be called to give evidence at the court martial."
"You may be in a similar stunt, old boy," rejoined Holcombe. "One of our light cruisers disabled a brand-new U-boat last Monday. They managed to save about a dozen of the crew before she sank. Amongst them was her skipper—guess who?"
"Not von Loringhoven?"
"Right first shot," exclaimed Holcombe. "It was von Loringhoven, and he had the wind up properly. I don't think that he'll get away in a hurry this time."
When at length the three churns changed trains at Marshton Junction they found their old favourite of school days still on duty.
"Know you, Mr. Sylvester? Of course I do. And you are one of the Corpse, I hear?"
"Not yet, guard," said the Moke hurriedly. "Still, getting on that way. Do you recognise these gentlemen?"
"Bless my soul, sir, it's Mr. Holcombe and Mr. Farrar! You a captain yet, sir?"
"Like my friend Sylvester I'm getting on that way," explained Holcombe. "And here's our modest hero coming down to Lynbury with two little bits of ribbon, you see."
"What be they for, sir?" asked the veteran guard.
"Oh—er—just for doing something in the way of strafing Fritz," replied Nigel Farrar.
THE END
Printed by Hazell, Watson & Viney, Ld., London and Aylesbury.
Transcriber's Notes:
This book contains a number of misprints.
The following misprints have been corrected:
This book contains a number of misprints.
The following misprints have been corrected:
[and it's a deal," re-rejoined] →
[and it's a deal," rejoined]
[The "Tantalus" was slowly foundering.]
[{Illustration: "SEIZING FARRAR, BEGAN TO HAUL]
[whether there was any news]
["Afir-el-Bahr" had been]
[the damage done by their bombs.]
Not corrected, but interesting to mention, is another misprint on the spine:
the spine shows the title: [THE FRITZ STRAFFERS]
but of course that should be: [THE FRITZ STRAFERS]
A few cases of punctuation errors were corrected but are not mentioned here.