The chariot
ponies and hero of the British army had gone crashing into the side lines.
* * * * *
"When they brought him to the hospital in the ambulance," explained the
captain's friend, "they had taken the toga off him, of course, and the old
boy was in his dress clothes. This kind o' knocked their eyes out, so what
do they do but give him the most expensive suite in the place and the
prettiest nurse and the star surgeon. And they mend and feed him up for
two weeks. We all called on him and brought him a few flowers. The lad was
surely in clover.
"The hospital authorities had nothing to go on but this dress suit as
evidence. And when the nurse asked him what he wanted done with the suit,
saying it was a bit torn from the accident, MacVeagh waves his hand and
answers, 'Oh, throw the blasted thing out of the window or give it to the
janitor.' And she did. I always thought it quite a story."
"But how did it end? What became of the captain when they found out he
couldn't pay his bill and all that? And where's he now?"
"You'll have to end the thing to suit yourself," said the captain's
friend. "All I know is that after almost forgetting about MacVeagh I got a
letter from him from London yesterday.
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