Expecting trouble, Bertram was surprised to find that the American was apparently amused, merely murmured “Shucks,” and, in the midst of a violent political dissertation from Bill, ably supported by Piggy, went to sleep with a long thin cigar in the corner of his long thin mouth. He had heard it all before.
Bertram found his Devil’s Own cocktail an exceedingly potent and unpleasant concoction. He decided that his first meeting with this beverage of the Evil One should be his last, and when Piggy, suddenly sitting up, remarked: “What’s wrong with the drinks?” and tinkled the bell, he arose, said a hurried farewell in some confusion, and fled.
“’Tain’t right to send a half-baked lad like that to fight the Colonial German,” observed Bill, idly watching his retreating form.
“Nope,” agreed the American, waking up. “I was going to say it’s adding insult to injury—but you ain’t injured Fritz any, yet, I guess,” and went to sleep again before either of the glaring Englishmen could think of a retort.
Ere Bertram left the Club, he heard two pieces of “inside” military information divulged quite openly, and by the Staff itself. As he reached the porch, a lady of fluffy appearance and kittenish demeanour was delaying a red-tabbed captain who appeared to be endeavouring to escape.
“And, oh, Captain, do tell me what ‘A.S.C.’ and ‘C.C.’ mean,” said the lady. “I saw a man with ‘A.S.C.’ on his shoulders, and there are two officers with ‘C.C.,’ in the Club. . . . Do you know what it means? I am so interested in military matters. Or is it a secret?”
“Oh, no!” replied the staff-officer, as he turned to flee. “‘A.S.C.’ stands for Ally Sloper’s Cavalry, of course, and ‘C.C.’ for Coolie Catchers. . . . They are slave-traders, really, with a Government contract for the supply of porters. They get twenty rupees for each slave caught and delivered alive, and ten for a dead one, or one who dies within a week.”
“What do they want the dead ones for?” she whispered.
“That I dare not tell you,” replied the officer darkly, and with a rapid salute, departed.
Emerging from the Club garden on to the white road, Bertram gazed around for his trolley-boys and beheld them not.