askew; his badges of staff distinction have obviously been sewn into position by some unskilled craftsman--probably his soldier servant. His tunic tells its own story of two years' campaigning in the rough; while the Mauser pistol strapped to the nut-brown belt which Wilkinson designed to carry a sword, speaks eloquently of the wearer's appreciation of the latter weapon as part of a general officer's service equipment. But as you look at the two--the one dandy and smart, the other rough and workmanlike--you can feel the personality of the junior, while the senior means no more to you than a clothier's model. This may not convey much to the average layman. But men--illiterate, uncultured, fighting men--see and appreciate all this, and it means much to them. Know, therefore, that there is no keener judge of human character and human mind than the cherub of the gutter. It is from these gutter-snipe, grown into men, that the fighting ranks of the great British army are filled. The generals were discussing the situation, as far as their respective staffs could discern from their speech and attitude, amicably enough, though the brigadier was pressing some point. In reality he had renewed his protest against his senior's decision of the morning, and was endeavouring to influence him into a change of policy and plan. But the stern usage of the service decrees that the public convenience should be ordered by the man whose name ranges first upon the Army List schedule, and that the junior should press his arguments in deferential rather than aggressive language. But by dint of argument, and some short reference to the senior members of the staff, a compromise was arrived at in order to meet the wishes of the brigadier. _General._ "I tell you that I don't like it; neither do I see any object in the move. After the handling which he has had from Plumer, Prieska can be the only line open to De Wet." _Brigadier._ "But all my information is in an opposite direction, sir. It distinctly----" _G._ "I don't think that your information is worth much. What can that boy know about it? He has been gulled by all the old wives' fables on the line of march." _B._ "Well, sir, leaving De Wet out of the question--I have been promised a convoy at Strydenburg, and I have yet to pick up my brigade. A squadron of the 21st Dragoon Guards and the whole of the Mount Nelson Light Horse, which Plumer has not assimilated, is now straining every nerve to catch me up." _G._ "When do you meet your convoy, and how far behind you are your details?" (Now the brigadier had invented the convoy on the spur of the moment. It was true that he had been promised a convoy, but that promise had not indicated Strydenburg as the rendezvous. But seeing that he had scored a point he turned at once to the Intelligence officer.) _B._ "When is our convoy due at Strydenburg?"