'_Meet me Belbury Station 6.00 p.m. today. M.S._,' he read, _sotto voce_.
His face took on its fun-and-nonsense look.

'Who's M.S.?' he asked, looking shrewdly at Joe.

'You know as well as I do,' said Joe, non-committal.

'M.S.,' repeated Albert. 'Blamed if I know, boy. Is it a woman?'

The conversation was carried on in tiny voices, for fear of disturbing
the householders.

'I don't know,' said Joe, turning. He looked full at Albert, the two men
looked straight into each other's eyes. There was a lurking grin in each
of them.

'Well, I'm--_blamed_!' said Albert at last, throwing the telegram down
emphatically on the bed.

'Wha-at?' said Joe, grinning rather sheepishly, his eyes clouded none the
less.

Albert sat on the bed and proceeded to undress, nodding his head with
mock gravity all the while. Joe watched him foolishly.

'What?' he repeated faintly.

Albert looked up at him with a knowing look.