"You're not married then?" said the Colonel, throwing a glance round the well-appointed room. "Yes, A am though," the engineer answered, his black-brown eyes twinkling. "A'm married to Democracy. She's ma first loov and like to be ma last." "What you doing down South?" asked the Colonel, tossing one leg over the other as he sat down to smoke. "Coom to make trouble," replied the other. "Good for you!" said the Colonel. "Hotting things up for our friend Stan. Well, he wants it. All the politicians do." His first visit to Seagate Lane was by no means his last: for the engineer's courage, his integrity, his aggressive tactics, delighted and amused the scholarly old soldier; but when he came to tackle his man seriously on the business of the National Service League he found he could not move him an inch from the position he invariably took up: The Army would be used by the Government in the only war that matters--the Industrial war; and therefore the Army must not be strengthened. "If the Army was used for the only purpose it ought to be used for--defence--A'd be with you. So'd the boolk of the workers. But it's not. They use it to croosh strikes!" And he brought his fist down on the table with a characteristic thump. "That's to croosh us!--For the strike's our only weapon, Colonel." The power, the earnestness, even the savagery he displayed, amazed the other. Here was a reality, an elemental force of which he had scarcely been aware. This was Democracy incarnate. And whatever else he might think he could not but admire the sincerity and strength of it. But he always brought his opponent back to what was for him the only issue. "Germany!" he said. "That's blooff!" replied the other. "They'll get the machine-guns for use against Germany, and when they've got em they'll use them against us. That's the capitalists' game.--Then there's the officers." "What about em?" said the Colonel cheerfully. "They're harmless enough, poor devils." "Tories to a man. Coom from the capitalist class." "What if they do?" "The Army does what the capitalist officer tells it. And he knows where his interest lies aw reet." "Well, of course you know the British officer better than I do, Burt," replied the Colonel, nettled for once. His opponent was grimly pleased to have drawn blood. "In the next few years if things go as they look like goin we shall see," was his comment. "Wait till we get a Labour Government in power!" The Colonel knocked out his pipe. "Well, Burt, I'll say this," he remarked. "If we could get half the passion into our cause you do into yours, we should do." "We're fighting a reality, Colonel," the other answered. "You're fighting a shadow, that's the difference." "I hope to God it may prove so!" said the Colonel, as they shook hands.