VIII

A NIGHT ADVENTURE--THE DETHRONEMENT OF FENN


One of the things which make life on this planet more or less
agreeable is the speed with which alarums, excursions, excitement, and
rows generally, blow over. A nine-days' wonder has to be a big
business to last out its full time nowadays. As a rule the third day
sees the end of it, and the public rushes whooping after some other
hare that has been started for its benefit. The guard-tent row, as far
as the bulk of camp was concerned, lasted exactly two days; at the end
of which period it was generally agreed that all that could be said on
the subject had been said, and that it was now a back number. Nobody,
except possibly the authorities, wanted to find out the authors of the
raid, and even Private Jones had ceased to talk about it--this owing
to the unsympathetic attitude of his tent.

"Jones," the corporal had observed, as the ex-sentry's narrative of
his misfortunes reached a finish for the third time since
_reveille_ that morning, "if you can't manage to switch off that
infernal chestnut of yours, I'll make you wash up all day and sit on
your head all night."

So Jones had withdrawn his yarn from circulation. Kennedy's interest in
detective work waned after his interview with Walton. He was quite sure
that Walton had been one of the band, but it was not his business to