Fantasy fiction; Humorous stories; Jinn -- Fiction; Soldiers -- Fiction; World War, 1914-1918 -- Fiction
Alf and Bill smelt the contents with grave suspicion, which changed at
once to a happy foaming smile apiece.
"That's the goods!" said Alf.
"Ah!" said Bill, smacking his lips with deep satisfaction. "Ole Aladdin
knew a thing or two, 'e did. Let's 'ave another o' the same an' drink
'is 'ealth."
"No, Bill. It'll 'urt ole Eustace' feelings. If you was a spook what
could build palaces an' sich in 'arf a tick, would _you_ like to 'ave
to go all the way to 'ell for two bloomin' pints? Besides we've kept
'im on the go pretty fair as it is."
"Make it 'ogs'eds, then."
But Alf was adamant.
"Very well, don't then," said Grant with sudden asperity. "But if yer
won't oblige a pal in a little thing like that, w'y don't yer get on
with it an' _do_ something? Fat lot o' good you done so far with yer
pet devil! W'y, yer mighter stopped the 'ole war by now."
"Might I? 'Ow?"
"Easy enough. All you gotter do is to send ole Eustace over to fetch
the Kaiser 'ere, an' there yer are! Can't yer see it in all the
papers--'Private Alf 'Iggins, V.C.--The 'ero as captured the Kaiser'?"
"Yes, I see meself gettin' it in the neck. I 'ope I knows my place
better'n to go monkeyin' with kings.... Look out, the orficers!"
It was too late for them to gain the sanctuary of their dug-out, and
they rose awkwardly to their feet as Shaw and Donaldson came along the
trench. They had been out on an exploring expedition. Bill and Alf,
seeing that neither Richards nor Allen was present, had hopes that
they would not attract attention; but Donaldson, for all his sleepy
appearance, was quick of eye.
"What's that in your hand, Grant?" he asked.
Bill, cursing inwardly the prying spirit to which he considered the
commissioned ranks much too prone, reluctantly drew from behind him the
tankard from which he had been drinking. Higgins did likewise, and the
officers took one each.
"How awfully interesting," said Shaw. "Where did you find these, Grant?"
"In one of these 'ere dug-outs, sir."
"By Jove, Don!" Shaw turned to his companion. "Fritz does love to do
himself well!"
He broke off in surprise. Donaldson had suddenly thrown off his air of
boredom and was examining his tankard with an alert eye.
"Must be looted stuff," he said. "I'm a bit of an expert in these
things. That's ancient oriental work, worth quite a bit."
"Excuse me, sir," put in Bill suavely. "But if this 'ere is any good to
you as a souvenir, I don't set no partickler store by it."
"Nor me, sir," agreed Alf.
"Want to sell?"
"If you like, sir."
"Can't afford it. I'm not going to do you in. These mugs are probably
worth a good bit."
"That's all right, sir. We'd much rather 'ave ten francs apiece now,
sir. We didn't neither of us get much last time we 'ad a pay."
"Whose fault was that?" asked Shaw.
"I'll give you," Donaldson said, "twenty francs each--all I can manage."
"Thank you, sir."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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