"You've hit it, Ned, as usual," Mr. Clark, of the Minneapolis Record, acquiesced. Crawshay drew his rug about him a little peevishly.
"My name," he said, "is Charles Reginald Crawshay."
"We got that from the captain," Brand replied. "Very nice name, too."
"I have been attached," Crawshay went on, "to the British Embassy at
Washington."
"You don't say!" Brand murmured.
"I am returning home," Crawshay continued, "because I intend to join the British Army, I was unfortunate enough to miss the boat, and being in company with a person of authority and influence, he suggested, partly in joke, that I should try to persuade one of the pilots of your new seaplanes at Jersey to bring me out. He further bet me five hundred dollars that I would not attempt the flight. I am one of those sort of people," Crawshay confessed meditatively, "who rise to a bet as to no other thing in life. I suppose it comes from our inherited sporting instincts. I accepted the bet and here I am."
"In time to save the British Army, eh?" Brand observed.
"In time to take my rightful place amongst the defenders of my country," was the dignified rebuke. "Incidentally, I have won a hundred pounds."
"Would you do it again for the same money?" Clark asked guilefully.
The Englishman coughed.