“My orders,” said Willie, “are to examine every car thoroughly.”
“But if you set that case down in the mud and open it in this downpour of rain the—the contents will be spoiled.”
“I can’t help that, sir,” said Willie. “My orders are quite definite.”
“Look here,” said Lord Ramelton, “if I give you my word that there are no arms or ammunition in that case, if I write a statement to that effect and sign it, will it satisfy you?”
“No, sir,” said Willie. “Nothing will satisfy me except seeing for myself.”
Such is the devotion to duty of the young British officer. Against his spirit the rage of the empire’s enemies breaks in vain. Nor are the statements of “these fellows,” however plausible, of much avail.
Lord Ramelton swallowed, with some difficulty, the language which gathered on his tongue’s tip.
“Where’s your superior officer?” he said.
Willie Thornton believed that all his superior officers were at least ten miles away. He had not noticed—nor had anyone else—that a grey military motor had driven into the village. In the grey motor was a General, with two Staff Officers, all decorated with red cap-bands and red tabs on their coats.
The military authorities were very much in earnest over the business of searching motor-cars and guarding roads. Only at times of serious danger do Generals, accompanied by Staff Officers, go out in the wet to visit outpost detachments commanded by subalterns.