Again Mr. Naylor showed interest, and learned that the water pressure was not all that it should be in the neighbourhood, and it was thought that some foreign substance had got into the pipes. Just as the watermen were preparing to pack up and take a leisurely departure, two men, their overalls smeared and spotted with red-lead, arrived at the end of the street with a hand-barrow. In due course a cutting of some fifteen or twenty feet was made in the roadway, and the reek of stale gas assailed the nostrils of the passer-by. Obviously some shadow of misfortune brooded over Apthorpe Road, for no sooner were these men beginning to pack up their tools, than the road-men arrived, with a full-blooded steam-roller, bent upon ploughing up and crushing down Apthorpe Road to a new and proper symmetry. In short the thoroughfare in which Mr. Montagu Naylor lived seemed never to be without workmen by day, and by night watchmen to protect municipal property from depredation. "I'm not so sure," remarked Malcolm Sage to Thompson who had entered his room soon after Colonel Walton had gone to pay his call at 110, Downing Street, "that the menage Naylor isn't a subject for investigation by the Food Controller." Thompson grinned. "Eighty pounds of potatoes seems to be a generous week's supply for three people." "And other things to match, sir," said Thompson with another grin. "Haricot beans, cabbage, they're nuts on cabbage, salad and all sorts of things that are not rationed. I think it must be diabetes," he added with another grin. "Possibly, Thompson, possibly," said Malcolm Sage; "but in the meantime we will assume other explanations. Some people eat more than others. For instance, the German is a very big eater." "And a dirty one, too, sir," added Thompson with disgust. "I've been at hotels with 'em." "Seven meals a day is one of the articles of faith of the good German, Thompson," continued Malcolm Sage. "And what's the result, sir?" remarked Thompson. "I suppose," remarked Sage meditatively, "it's the same as with a bean-fed horse. They go out looking for trouble." "And they're going to get it," was the grim rejoinder. "Well, carry on, Thompson," said Sage by way of dismissal. "You'll learn a great deal about the green-grocery trade in the process." "And waterworks--and gas and things, sir," grinned Thompson. As Thompson opened the door of Malcolm Sage's room, he stepped aside to allow Colonel Walton to enter, and then quietly closed the door behind him. "Bad time?" enquired Sage as Colonel Walton dropped into a chair and, taking off his cap, mopped his forehead. "On this occasion I resigned for both of us." For once in his life Malcolm Sage was surprised. He looked incredulously across at his chief, who gazed back with a comical expression in his eyes. "I thought I was left at home for fear I might resign," said Malcolm Sage drily when Colonel Walton had finished telling him of the interview.