As I spoke, the ground shuddered, and the tea-things shook.
“There is a mine,” we all exclaimed together.
“I wonder if it’s ours, or theirs,” said Edwards.
“I saw Hills, this afternoon,” I answered, “and he said nothing about a mine. I’m sure he would have, if we had been going to send one up. No, I bet that’s a Boche mine. Good thing you’re out of it, Clark. Oh, don’t go. Well, cheero! if you must. Look us up oftener. Good luck!”
Clark departed, and I resumed Blackwood’s.
“I say, Edwards,” said I, after a while. “This stuff of Ian Hay’s is awfully good. This about the signallers is top-hole. You can simply smell it!”
“After you with it,” was the reply.
“There you are,” I said at last. “It’s called ‘Carry On’; there have been several others in the same series. You know the ‘First Hundred Thousand’?”
“No.”
“Good stuff,” said I. “Good readable stuff; the sort you’d give to your people at home. But it leaves out bits.”