Part 56 (1/2)

”Dear Sir,” wrote the editor of _The Evening Surprise_, ”will you come round and see me as soon as convenient?”

Harold lost no time. Explaining that he would finish his innings later, he put his coat on, took his hat and stick, and dashed out.

”How do you do?” said the editor. ”I wanted to talk to you about your work. We all liked your little poem very much. It will be coming out to-morrow.”

”Thursday,” said Harold helpfully.

”I was wondering whether we couldn't get you to join our staff. Does the idea of doing Aunt Miriam's Cosy Corner in our afternoon edition appeal to you at all?”

”No,” said Harold. ”Not a bit.”

”Ah, that's a pity.” He tapped his desk thoughtfully. ”Well, then, how would you like to be a war correspondent?”

”Very much,” said Harold. ”I was considered to write rather good letters home from school.”

”Splendid! There's this little war in Mexico. When can you start? All expenses and fifty pounds a week. You're not very busy at the office just now, I suppose?”

”I could get sick leave easily enough,” said Harold, ”if it wasn't for more than eight or nine months.”

”Do; that will be excellent. Here's a blank cheque for your outfit. Can you get off to-morrow? But I suppose you'll have one or two things to finish up at the office first?”

”Well,” said Harold cautiously, ”I _was_ in, and I'd made ninety-six.

But if I go back and finish my innings now, and then have to-morrow for buying things, I could get off on Friday.”

”Good,” said the editor. ”Well, here's luck. Come back alive if you can, and if you do we shan't forget you.”

Harold spent the next day buying a war correspondent's outfit: the camel, the travelling bath, the putties, the pith helmet, the quinine, the sleeping-bag, and the thousand-and-one other necessities of active service. On the Friday his colleagues at the office came down in a body to Southampton to see him off. Little did they think that nearly a year would elapse before he again set foot upon England.

I shall not describe all his famous _coups_ at Mexico. Sufficient to say that experience taught him quickly all that he had need to learn; and that whereas he was more than a week late with his cabled account of the first engagement of the war he was frequently more than a week early afterwards. Indeed the battle of Parson's Nose, so realistically described in his last telegram, is still waiting to be fought. It is to be hoped that it will be in time for his aptly-named book, _With the Mexicans in Mexico_, which is coming out next month.

On his return to England Harold found that time had wrought many changes. To begin with, the editor of _The Evening Surprise_ had pa.s.sed on to _The Morning Exclamation_.

”You had better take his place,” said the ducal proprietor to Harold.

”Right,” said Harold. ”I suppose I shall have to resign my post at the office?”

”Just as you like. I don't see why you should.”

”I should miss the cricket,” said Harold wistfully, ”and the salary.

I'll go round see what I can arrange.”

But there were also changes at the office. Harold had been rising steadily in salary and seniority during his absence, and he found to his delight that he was now a Princ.i.p.al Clerk. He found too that he had acquired quite a reputation in the office for quickness and efficiency in his new work.

The first thing to arrange about was his holiday. He had had no holiday for more than a year, and there were some eight weeks owing to him.

”Hullo,” said the a.s.sistant Secretary as Harold came in, ”you're looking well. I suppose you can manage to get away for the weekends?”

”I've been away on sick leave for some time,” said Harold pathetically.