XII. ALF RECEIVES 167 XIII. P. C. JOBLING INVESTIGATES 191 XIV. MR. FARR'S MISGUIDED ZEAL 206 XV. THE CAPTURE OF MASTER BOBBY 229 XVI. MRS. GRANT'S DIPLOMACY 246 XVII. THE FATE OF THE BUTTON 263 Copyright 1919 by Frederick A. Stokes Company ALF'S BUTTON CHAPTER I ALF HIGGINS, RUNNER "Very well, sergeant-major, I think that's the lot. As far as we know, we'll take over the front line from the 4th Battalion in two days' time. I want you to warn all the men who aren't coming up with us that they are to go to the Transport lines to-morrow." Captain Richards, commanding "C" Company of the 5th Battalion, Middlesex Fusiliers, rose to his feet, snapped shut his company roll-book and stretched himself. Sergeant-Major French, slipping a similar though less immaculate roll-book into his breast pocket, also rose to his feet (nearly bumping his tin-hatted head against the roof of the dug-out as he did so) and saluted. "Very good, sir. Good night." "Good night, French. Oh--one moment. I'd forgotten. I want one extra runner for Company Headquarters. Can you give me an intelligent man?" The C.S.M. considered. "There's only 'Iggins, sir," he said, in rather a dubious tone. "You know the man, sir--in Mr. Allen's platoon." Captain Richards laughed. "You can't call him intelligent, can you?" "No, sir. But nearly every man in the company's fixed with a job, sir. 'Iggins ain't very bright, an' 'e won't do no more than you tell 'im. But 'e won't do no less, neither. 'E's a good soldier, and what 'e's told to do, 'e does. I don't think we can spare anybody better, sir." "All right. Send him down to see me." Richards was left to his thoughts, though he was not alone. From somewhere in the dim recesses of the dug-out came the sound of deep regular breathing, showing where Lieutenant Donaldson was making the most of an opportunity for rest. The remaining two officers of "C" Company had been out all day reconnoitering the piece of front line in which they were to relieve the 4th Battalion, and had not yet returned. Richards found himself wishing that they would appear. For one thing, he wanted his dinner; and for another, he was just a shade anxious, though he would not for worlds have admitted it. Of course, reconnoitering was always a long job, and there had not been much shelling going on during the day. Besides, Denis Allen--senior subaltern of the battalion and next on the list for command of a company--was far too old a hand to run into unnecessary danger. On the other hand, little Shaw had only just come out from England; this was his first time in the line, and he was just the type of keen young thing to do something foolish out of ignorance or bravado.