leaned forward and whispered behind his glove, "There's a Hay Pee Hem
under the portico watching your movements, Sir." The Babe needed no
further warning; he dived into his friends' Limousine and burrowed
under the rug.

* * * * *

Sometime later the door of the car was opened cautiously and the
moon-face of the Major-General inserted itself through the crack.
"Hall clear for the moment, Sir; the Hay Pee Hem 'as gorn orf dahn the
street, chasin' a young hofficer in low shoes. 'Ere, tyke this; I'm a
hold soldier meself." He thrust a damp banana in the Babe's hand and
closed the door softly.

Next morning the Babe dug up an old suit of 1914 "civies" and put
them on. A woman in the Tube called him "Cuthbert" and informed him
gratuitously that her husband, twice the Babe's age, had volunteered
the moment Conscription was declared and had been fighting bravely
in the Army Clothing Department ever since. Further she supposed
the Babe's father was in Parliament and that he was a Conscientious
Objector. In Hyde Park one urchin addressed him as "Daddy" and asked
him what he was doing in the Great War; another gambolled round and
round him making noises like a rabbit. In Knightsbridge a Military
Policeman wanted to arrest him as a deserter. The Babe hailed a taxi
and, cowering on the floor, fled back to his hotel and changed into
uniform again.

That night, strolling homewards in the dark immersed in thought, he
inadvertently took a pipe out of his pocket and lit it. An A.P.M. who
had been sleuthing him for half-a-mile leapt upon him, snatched the