the agents, and send a few advertisements to the papers. My first
editions must go. Farewell Shelley, Tennyson, Keats, uncut Waverleys,
Byron, _The Waltz_, early Kiplings (at a vast reduction on account of the
overflooded state of the market). Farewell Kilmarnock edition of Burns,
and Colonel Lovelace, his _Lucasta_, and _Tamerlane_ by Mr. Poe, and the
rest. The money must be raised.' Merton looked resigned.

'I have nothing to sell,' said Logan, 'but an entire set of clubs by
Philp. Guaranteed unique, and in exquisite condition.'

'You must part with them,' said Merton. 'We are like Palissy the potter,
feeding his furnace with the drawing-room furniture.'

'But how about the recruiting?' Logan asked. 'It's like one of these
novels where you begin by collecting desperados from all quarters, and
then the shooting commences.'

'Well, we need not ransack the Colonies,' Merton replied. 'Patronise
British industries. We know some fellows already and some young women.'

'I say,' Logan interrupted, 'what a dab at disentangling Lumley would
have been if he had not got that Professorship of Toxicology at
Edinburgh, and been able to marry Miss Wingan at last!'

'Yes, and Miss Wingan would have been useful. What a lively girl, ready
for everything,' Merton replied.

'But these we can still get at,' Logan asked: 'how are you to be sure
that they are--vaccinated?'