"Don't apologise, Sir," interrupted Baffin. "I am delighted to see a young man like you working in such a cause. Every loyal Englishman, unless blindly ignorant or filled with Radical spite, will be delighted to sign it."
Grabbing the fountain-pen he scribbled the imposing signature, "James Baffin, Hughenden, Tulse Hill."
"It doesn't involve any financial responsibility?" enquired Macdougal with a touch of national caution.
"Not in the least. You just sign," replied Ralston.
Down went the name of Luke Macdougal.
Wilcox had to have his attention drawn to the petition because he pretended to be absorbed in The Times—reading it with the attachment of an old subscriber, though we all knew he had only taken it for two days.
"Of course," said Wilcox, "at the present moment I could not think of taking any active part in military operations myself, but I am sure my son-in-law——"
"You are not supposed to do anything but sign," said Ralston.
"Certainly, certainly, I'll be very pleased to sign. My son-in-law is a most determined young fellow and feels most strongly on this point."
And Mr. Wilcox amiably offered up his son-in-law as a vicarious sacrifice.