Edgar Wallace
Smithy
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Table of contents
I. — THE ADJUTANT'S MADNESS
II. — MILITARY MOTORING
III. — ADVERTISING THE ARMY
IV. — ARMY MANNERS
V. — THE UMPIRE
VI. — ERUDITION
VII. — BERTIE
VIII. — NOBBY'S PART
IX. — THE CLAIRVOYANT
X. — BOOTS
XI. — JU-JITSU
XII. — THE NEW OFFICER
XIII. — THE AGITATOR
XIV. — MISSING WORDS
XV. — THE NEW RULES
XVI. — THE CHEF
XVII. — THE JOURNALIST
XVIII. — THE PHOTOGRAPHER
XIX. — THE BOOKMAKER
XX. — BACK TO CIVIL LIFE
XXI. — BROTHERS
XXII. — THE GHOST OF HEILBRON KOPJE
XXIII. — SACRIFICE
I. — THE ADJUTANT'S MADNESS
MILITARY "crime"
is not crime at all, as we law-abiding citizens recognize it.
The outbreak in the
Anchester Regiment was not a very serious affair; from what I can
gather, it mostly took the form of breaking out of barracks after
"lights out."
But, explained Smithy, it
got a bit too thick, and one of the consequences was that the guard
was doubled, pickets were strengthened, and the ranks of the
regimental military police were, as a temporary measure, considerably
augmented. I explain this for the benefit of my military readers, who
may wonder how it was that both Smithy and Nobby Clark happened to be
together on Number One post on the night of The Adjutant's Madness.
"I was tellin' the
troops only the other night," said Smithy, "what would
'appen if they didn't give over actin' the billy goat.
"'Some of you
bloomin' recruits,' I sez, 'think you're doin' somethin' very
wonderful, climbin' over the wall, an' goin' into town when you ought
to be in bed asleep; but it's the likes of me, an' Nobby, and 'Appy
Johnson, chaps with twelve years' service, who's got to suffer. I'll
bet you old Uncle Bill will start doublin' the guard to-morrer.'
"'Don't be down
'arted; Nobby sez; 'take a brighter view of life, Smithy.'
"Sure enough, next
day it came out in orders that the guard was to be doubled, an' me
an' Nobby was for it.
"When we mounted
guard, the Adjutant, old Umferville, came over an' inspected us.
"'Who's first relief
on Number One post?' 'e sez.
"'Clark an' Smith,
sir,' sez the sergeant.
"'I don't want you
chaps to make too much noise walkin' about, or shoutin',' sez the
Adjutant, an' I'm blowed if 'is face wasn't as red as a piller-box.
"'What's the matter
with Uncle Bill?' sez Nobby, as we was marchin' off.
"'I believe 'e's
frightened about somethin',' I sez, puzzled.
"Number One post is
between the back of the Adjutant's 'ouse and the wall where the chaps
nip over. It used to be the Colonel's 'ouse; but when Uncle Bill got
married a couple of years ago, the Colonel generously 'anded it over,
an' took an 'ouse in town that wasn't so damp.
"It was the most
excitin' guard me an' Nobby ever did, an' it was all through Uncle
Bill. You never saw such goin's on in your life. 'E dodged in an' out
of 'is 'ouse all day long. 'E'd start to walk across the square, then
stop, as if 'e'd forgot something, then walk back to the 'ouse, then
walk out again, then stop an' bite 'is nails an' stare more ghastly
at nothin'.
"Once as 'e was
passin', me an' Nobby shouldered arms to 'im, an' e stopped dead an'
looked at us. 'E didn't move, but stood stock still for about five
minutes starin' at me an' Nobby, sayin' nothin', an' me and Nobby
felt quite uncomfortable.
"'Everything all
right, sentry?' 'e sez at last.
"'Yes, sir,' sez me
an' Nobby.
"'Sentry—' 'e sez,
then stopped.
"'Which one, sir?'
sez Nobby, an' the officer stared.
"'Are there two of
you?' 'e sez.
"'Yes, sir,' sez me
an' Nobby, an' e got very red an' muttered somethin' an' walked off.
"We was talkin' about
it in the guardroom that night when we was drinkin' our guard
allowance—one pint a man, accordin' to regulations. All the other
chaps 'ad noticed Uncle Bill's strangeness, too.
"'It's drink,' sez
Nobby, shakin' 'is 'ead. 'Wot a pity to see a pore young chap go
wrong, all for the sake of the cursed liquor—after you with that
pot, Smithy.'
"'You've 'ad your
whack, Nobby,' I sez; 'don't come it on a pal.'
"'Did I?' sez Nobby.
'I must 'ave been thinkin' of the Adjutant.'
"'I think 'es
'aunted,' sez a chap from 'D'—a young chap.
"''Aunted!' sez
Nobby, scornful. 'Why, there ain't no ghosts after Christmas,
fat'ead!'
"'Never mind about
Christmas,' sez the young chap; 'it's my belief 'es 'aunted, there's
a spirit or somethin' follerin' 'im about.'
'Dry up,' sez Nobby,
shudderin', for me an' im was on the worst relief, ten to midnight,
an' four to six.
"When we mounted at
'last post' Nobby sez to me:—
"'Do you think
there's anythin' in that ghost idea, Smith?'
"'No,' I sez.
'Still,' I sez, 'you never know.'
"'What's that?' sez
Nobby, pointin' to a shadder movin' along the wall. So I shouts
"''Alt!—who goes
there? '
"It turned out to be
little Bobby Burns tryin' to break out of barracks, an' me an' Nobby
captured 'im an' shoved 'im in the clink.
"Just before twelve
me an' Nobby was standin' at ease, when we 'eard a most 'orrid groan.
We jumps round with our 'arts in our mouths, an' there was the
Adjutant in is overcoat an' slippers.
"'What the dickens
are you starin' at?' 'e sez.
"'Beg pardon, sir,'
stammers Nobby, 'I thought you was a ghost!'
"But the Adjutant
didn't seem to 'ear what we said. 'E just walks up an' down mutterin'
to hisself. Bimeby 'e sez, 'Keep a sharp look-out, an' don't make too
much noise—d'ye hear, you Clark ; d'ye 'ear, you Smith?' 'e sez
fiercely.
"'Yes, sir,' sez me
an' Nobby; an' then the Adjutant went indoors.
"'Drink,' sez Nobby
solemnly. 'Let this be a warnin' to you, Smithy.'
"When we come on duty
again at four in the mornin', the two chaps we relieved looked scared
out of their lives. 'I shall be bloomin' glad when its daylight,' sez
one of 'em; 'we've 'ad an 'orrid time.'
"'Ow so?' sez Nobby.
"'The Adjutant's gone
orf 'is napper: mad, that's wot 'e is,' sez the chap. ' 'E's bin
walkin' up an' down talkin' to 'isself an' moanin' an' chuckin' 'is
arms about.'
"'Nice thing, ain't
it?' sez Nobby, after we was posted; 'if you ask me—why, 'ere the
beggar comes again.'
"'What shall we do?'
I sez.
"'Wait till 'e gets
violent, then bang 'im with the butt of your rifle.'
"'You do it,' I sez.
"'No, you'd better do
it, Smithy; you're the oldest soldier!'
"Up comes Umferville,
and I'll take my oath there was tears in 'is eyes.
"'Sentry' 'e sez in a
chokin' voice, 'challenge all persons approachin' your post.'
"'Yes, sir,' sez me
an' Nobby.
"'Don't allow nobody
to pass without challengin', ' 'e sez wildly, an' then run back to
'is 'ouse like mad.
"'Balmy,' sez Nobby;
'let's go an' tell the sergeant.'
"'Better wait,' I
sez. So we waited.
"'The beggar 'ain't
bin to bed,' sez Nobby after a bit, 'there's lights in all the
rooms.'
"'I wonder what 'is
missus thinks,' I sez, an' I felt sorry for Mrs. Umferville, who's a
lady bred an' born.
"It wanted about an
hour to daybreak when out rushes the Adjutant again an' makes
straight for us.
"''Ere 'e comes,' I
sez, liftin' up the butt of my rifle. 'Nobby, you're evidence that I
only 'it 'im to save your life,' I sez.
"'Your life!' sez
Nobby hastily.
"Up comes Umferville,
sort of laughin' an' cryin'.
"'Sentry,' e sez,
'wot about your orders?'
"'Wot orders, sir?' I
sez.
"'Some one's come
into barracks,' 'e sez excitedly, an' you 'aven't challenged 'im.'
"''E ain't passed
'ere,' sez me an' Nobby together.
"'Yes, 'e 'as,' sez
the Adjutant. 'Listen'
"We listens.
"''Ear anythin'?' sez
the Adjutant.
Suddenly Nobby lets out a
yell.
"'Guard, turn out,'
'e shouts, an' out come the guard with a run.
"'Wot's up?' sez the
sergeant of the guard.
"'Present arms!' sez
Nobby, 'to the Adjutant's new baby,' 'e sez."
II. — MILITARY MOTORING
"WHAT'LL be the badge
for that?" asked Smithy
We were talking of the new
course of military motoring that is contemplated.
"Cross' guns for
marksman, cross' flags for signaller, cross' swords for instructor,
cross' choppers for pioneer." mused Smithy.
"Cross pedestrians
for military chauffeur," said I humorously.
"Cross corpses, if I
know anything about it," said Smithy pessimistically. "Some
of the chaps I know who are goin' in for motorin' I wouldn't trust
with a clock-work p'rambulator."
"As you say," I
began. "There—"
"Let alone
motor-cars," interrupted Smithy gloomily.
"Of course there
are—"
"Let alone bloomin'
motor-cars," repeated Smithy, with a knowing nod of his head.
"I suppose," he
went on, "you don't happen to know Spud Murphy, of 'B'—he's
doin' duty now, but he used to be groom-of-the-chambers to Major
What's-his-name?"
I know hundreds of Spud
Murphys; but I could not recall this particular one.
"You wouldn't think,"
said Smithy, impressively, "that a tin-eyed rooster with four
years' service, a low-down cellar-flapper from Islington that joined
the Army to get away from the police, would 'ave the neck to apply
for a job as shover to a choof-choof?"
"I should imagine,"
I remarked gently, "that the position of chauffeur requires—"
"Well," went on
the indignant Smithy, "this unmentionable person did. You know
Uncle Bill?"
I owned up to an
acquaintance with that very kindly young officer, Captain Umfreville,
of Smithy's battalion.
"Uncle Bill,"
said the irreverent soldier, "is one of the widest chaps in the
regiment. There was a man in town who was agent for all kinds of
motor-cars, but the one he was most fond of was a little thing he
invented hisself. A four-'orse-power machine with bicycle wheels. He
called it the 'Ravin' Jupiter,' and it was one of them
run-away-and-play-whilst-papa- mends-the-carburator sort of machines.
"Well, Uncle Bill
turns up in barrack one day as large as life, sittin' in a sort of
bassinette and steam roller combined. He'd bought a 'Ravin' Jupiter,'
and, what's more, he'd got it cheap.
"People used to larf,
especially when it hurt somebody; but Uncle Bill knew a thing or two.
"A week afterwards he
turned up with a ninety-'orse-power Little Nipper, or Nipper Minor,
or something of the sort.
"His 'Ravin' Jupiter'
had gone wrong, and while it was bein' righted the maker had lent him
this car.
"I can tell you,"
said Smithy, with a reminiscent grin, "that old Uncle Bill
didn't use that 'Ravin' Jupiter' three times a year; mostly he was
cuttin' round the country in the Nipper, or a Damyer, or a Poosher,
wot was lent him while the 'Ravin' ' car was gettin' a new inside.
The artfulness of Captain
Umfreville caused Smithy a few minutes' amusement.
Then he returned with a
scowl to the enormities of the miserable Spud Murphy.
"Spud comes to me one
day an' sez, 'I'm goin' to be Bill's shover.'
"'Bill's how much?' I
sez.
"'Bill's choofer,' he
sez.
"'Wot do you know
about motor-cars?' I sez.
"'E larfs. 'Never you
mind,' e sez; 'I've driv' an ingin before now,' 'e sez.
"'Beer ingin?' I sez.
"'No,' e sez, 'a real
ingin at a sawmills.'
"So Spud got his
job," Smithy went on, "an' for a week he was messin' about
the parade ground doin' fancy work, with Uncle Bill sittin' by his
side givin' instructions.
"We used to sit
outside the canteen and watch him and the officer.
"'E used to play on
the thing with his 'ands and feet, and the tunes 'e got out of it was
extr'ord'nary. Bill was a wonderful instructor.
"'Mark time on that
blanky clutch,' he'd yell, and Spud would put his foot on the
brake-pedal.
"'The other foot, you
soor,' Bill'd shout, he 'avin' been in India with the other
battalion.
"''Arf right!' And
Spud would give the steerin'-wheel a yank to the left, an' the
language of the captain was a disgrace to his company.
"I tell you Spud
perspired, but he persevered, too, and used to work in little bits he
learnt at the sawmill, and one day he comes up to me as pleased as
Punch, an' waves a bit o' blue paper.
"'I've got me
licence,' he sez.
"'O,' sez Nobby
Clark—a caution, he is—'I suppose they'll let you out without a
chain now,' 'e sez.
"'Don't you be
funny,' sez Spud; 'I'm a licensed shover.'
"'What's that?' I
sez. 'French for beer-can boy at a sawmills? '
"Well, right enough,
about a week after, me and a couple of chaps was walkin' out in the
country—it was a Sunday—when we 'eard a motor- car comin' up
behind.
"'Hoomp ! Hoomp !
Hoomp!'
"Then, like a flash
of dirty lightnin', somethin' dashed past in a cloud of dust, and
there was me and the other chaps covered all over with muck, and a
smell in the air like a paraffin stove.
"Bimeby,"
resumed Smithy, "we comes up with a motor-car pulled up at the
side of a road with somebody crawlin' underneath.
"'There's only one
man in the world that takes fourteen boots,' sez Nobby, 'and that's
Spud Murphy;' so we pulls 'im out.
"'Now, then, you
men,' sez Spud, doin' the haughty act, 'just leave me alone, will
yer?'
"What's up, Spud?' I
sez.
"'The off 'ind
cylinder 'as come into contact with the sparkin' plug,' sez Spud, as
bold as brass.
"'Sawmills,' sez
Nobby Clark softly.
"'Wot are you goin'
to do?' I sez, and the other chaps started lookin' underneath too.
"'I shall petrolize
the trembler, and throw back the clutch into the ignition coil,' sez
Spud, shuttin' 'is eyes and thinkin'.
"'Sawmills,' sez
Nobby Clark quite plainly.
"Spud give him a
look, then dives underneath the car with a spanner, while me an'
Nobby tried to see what made the fog'orn work.
"'Oomph!'
"''Ere,' sez Spud
Murphy, underneath the car, 'just you leave that 'orn alone.'
"'Oomph!'
"Spud wriggled out
from under the car with a spanner in one 'and and a oilcan in the
other.
"'E was red in the
face, an' as wild as anything.
"'Didn't I tell you
to leave it alone?' 'e sez to Nobby.
"'Sawmills!' sez
Nobby; and that's why Spud 'it 'im."
Smithy heaved a sigh.
"Take my tip, don't
you ever try to separate two chaps when one chap has a spanner in his
'and," he said, and continued:—
"Well, Spud lost 'is
job, for a couple of red-caps* came up an' pinched 'im, an' the car
'ad to be dragged home by a fatigue party, and Uncle Bill drives his
own car now; he's fed up with military shovers, and won't 'ave
another."*
Military Police
"How do you know?"
I asked curiously.
"I offered to drive
for 'im," said Smithy modestly.
III. — ADVERTISING THE ARMY
"IT's a great thing, getting a staff billet," remarked Private
Smithy, resplendent in mufti of the hand-me-down pepper-and-salt
variety. Smithy wore mufti consequent upon his recent appointment
as groom to Major Somebody-or-Other,
Deputy-Assistant-Adjutant-General (a) to Goodness-
Knows-What-District.
"It's a relief to get out of regimentals," he sighed,
self-consciously thrusting fingers into unaccustomed
pockets. I ventured to murmur that he looked ever
so much better in a scarlet coat and white belt, but Smithy
demurred.
"Red tunics is all right in a way," he remarked philosophically,
"but give me a smart civilian suit, turn-down collar, and a pair of
brown boots for a change." At Smithy's request I "waited a bit "
whilst he explored a small tobacconist's in the High Street.
He returned after a short absence, red in the face, but
triumphant.
"Seven for a shilling—and an imitation crocodile leather case
thrown in," he explained. "Have one?" Smithy added, with the air of
a connoisseur, that it was "almost unpossible to buy a good cigar
under tuppence."
Two draws convinced me that it was quite as impossible to get the
genuine article at the rate of a shilling for seven.
"The red coat attracts a few, I'll admit," resumed Smithy. "I've
known two silly jossers in my time who've joined the Army for the
sake of the scarlet. One got his ticket three months after."
"Ticket," I may say in parenthesis, is the terse barrack-room
formula for certificate of discharge.
"Colour blind, 'e was," Smithy went on, with an amused smile. "No,
red coats don't bring recruits, nor," added Smithy emphatically,
"nothing that the War Office ever did brings recruits." We were
passing a hoarding as he spoke, and suddenly clutching my arm, he
stopped dead and pointed to a placard. It was neatly printed in red
and blue, and was about the size of a newspaper contents bill. It
ran :
RECRUITS WANTED
FOR EVERY BRANCH OF
THE ARMY
GOD SAVE THE KING!
I nodded, and we resumed our walk.
"God save the King!" repeated Smithy flippantly. "God save the Kin
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