"Glad to see you looking so well, Major," he said, "It's your
friend we want..."
"What? Strangwise? Here, Maurice, come meet my friend Tommy
Spencer of the "Daily Record," whom I haven't seen since we went
on manoeuvres together down at Aldershot! Captain Strangwise,
Tommy Spencer! Now, then, fire away; Spencer!"
Strangwise smiled and shook his head.
"I'm very pleased to know your friend, Desmond," he said, "but,
you know, I can't talk! I had the strictest orders from the War
Office... It's on account of the other fellows, you know..."
Desmond looked blankly at him. Then he--turned to Spencer.
"You must let me into this, Spencer," he said, "what's old
Maurice been up to? Has he been cashiered for wearing shoes or
what?"
Spencer's manner became a trifle formal.
"Captain Strangwise has escaped from a prisoners' of war camp in
Germany, Major," he said, "we've been trying to get hold of him
for days! He's the talk of London!"
Desmond turned like a shot.
"Maurice!" he cried, "'pon my soul, I'm going to have an
interesting evening... why, of course, you are just the sort of
fellow to do a thing like that. But, Spencer, you know, it won't
do... fellows are never allowed to talk to the newspaper men
about matters of this kind.
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