"Are you a home guard?"
"I am not," I replied civilly, realizing my clothes warranted the question.
"The reason I asked," he said, "there has been a desertion in one of the companies lately, and the description of the deserter fits you. If you were to land there now and suddenly make off across the sands towards Georgetown—I had informed him of my intention—you would quite likely be overtaken and held three or four days for identification," he said.
Having never been a home guard, I did not know whether the man was playing a practical joke on me or was telling the truth, but I did not want to be detained there for several days, and I was inclined to believe what he said was the truth. However, I did not betray this fact.
Instead, I laughed and remarked that I was not afraid; but all three of the men stoutly maintained that they had tried to do me a favor, and seeing that I appeared to take it as a joke, one of the men finally got angry and wished me all sorts of bad things, and said he hoped I would be arrested as soon as the boat landed.
The cabin was filled with passengers, and soon it was the topic of conversation, and some thought I would be held, while others took the opposite side.
Sitting almost in front of me was a well dressed man, whom, I noticed, had taken no part in the conversation, and he, catching my eye for a moment, winked at me and arose and left the cabin.
Soon after I followed him to a deserted part of the boat.
"I am a Philadelphia drummer," he said, "and don't know which side to stand on, but if you will go to the engine room, I will follow soon with a sample grip of cheap clothing, and you may pick out a cheap suit free of charge, if you will cut the buttons off your khaki coat and give them to me," and I readily agreed and the change was soon effected.
Whether I was the victim of a practical joke or not, I have never learned, but if so, I was ahead of the game in the clothing by a long sight, for I had selected a good, warm suit.