"Well," replied Smith, "have a fairly good idea of what you will need. Suppose I draw up a specification of a foundry installation to-night and let you have it to-morrow?"
"Delighted," said the captain. "It would be good of you."
So Smith set to work, duly completed the specification, and turned it over to the A.S.C. man, who went away, quite happy, at once to put in the specification as it was handed to him. He admittedly had no knowledge as to its correctness and was quite satisfied to seek none.
I met Moore-Brabazon, of the Flying Corps, on the quay. With a few days' leave in his pocket, he was as happy as a sandboy.
"We had a chap rejoin us a day or so ago," said "Brab," "who had a remarkable story to tell. His name is Mapplebeck. He is an officer in the Liverpool Regiment, attached to the R.F.C.
"Not long ago, Mapplebeck was up alone on a scout near Lille, when his engine went wrong, and he had to make a descent. He knew he was well inside the German lines, but was shocked to see a couple of Huns, apparently doing sentry duty, not far from where he had planned to land.
"The two Germans ran toward the machine as it came down, each grabbing hold of the left wing. The biplane tossed and rolled and pitched about as it came to rest. Mapplebeck tumbled out on the right side, dived head first through a thick hedge a few feet distant, and ran hot-foot down a deep ditch that led to a cross-hedge not far away.
"He lost no time in dodging through the further hedge, and was off like a hare down another ditch. The Huns must have taken the wrong turning when pursuing him, as he got clear away and hid in a dwelling till night.
"Obtaining some peasant clothing, Mapplebeck made his way into Lille. Though the town was full of Germans, his disguise was so good he was not bothered in any way. Finding a loyal French business man, Mapplebeck cashed a London cheque, for which he received French notes bearing a German stamp. With these he bought a suit of clothing, and started to tramp the road to Belgium.