AN ACCESSARY AFTER THE FACT:

Timaru Herald, Volume CXXV, Issue 18552, 26 April 1930, Page 9 (Supplement)

AN ACCESSARY AFTER THE FACT:

Poof! how the sun baked down on the little court-house! The county magistrate looked round at the closed windows, and shrugged his shoulders, as it was obvious to him that none of them were made to open. The object that caused the magistrate to be sitting rather beyond his time and much against his inclination, was a small boy of some ten years of age, with flaming red hair, white eyelashes, many freckles on a fair skin, and bright, penetrating, humorous brown eyes. He had been taken up for attempting to pick the pocket of an officer in his Majesty’s army. At least, so Police Constable XX. 24 said in his evidence; but the officer, w r ho stood there lazily staring through his eyeglass at the small culprit, seemed to have his doubts about the matter. He argued, for instance, how could a boy with any sense think for a moment that an officer in his Majesty’s army in war-time would have anything worth stealing on him? And. by Jove! the boy looked as if he had plenty of sense; and he polished up his eyeglass afresh as he glanced at the little ugly face. The heat did not seem to affect the culprit, who looked round the stuffy room with a fearless eye; he did not seem to have any qualms as to his not being let off. The magistrate was a kindly old man, who was known to come down with a thunder of disapproval on wife-beaters only, or such like. “But you say, constable, that you did not find anything on the boy that dio not belong to him?” “No, yer Honour. ’E was standin just lookin’ at the captain, idle like, who seemed to be waitin’ for some one> as I ’ad seen ’im there for some minutes.. Then, yer Honour, I saw the boy. as plain as possible, snatch tht ’andkerchief from the captain's sleeve. The captain was standin’ like this.” Police Cons;,able XX. 24 did a little personal imitation, much to the amuse ment of the court. ”’E was standin’ strokin’ ’is moustache with ’is right ’and, an’ is left was swung careless like across ’is ’ip, an’ just peepin’ out from the left sleeve was a khaki silk ’andkerchief.” It was then that Police Constable XX. 24 collared the culprit and ac cused him of stealing the handkerchiel telling him to “come along quiet”; and had dragged the captain into the affair. much against his will. The captain had murmured with surprise. “By Jove! how awfully ener getic the local police are, and on this hot day. too! Handkerchief! No, 1 don’t seem to miss it. But if you say I do I suppose I must, as of course

3 r ou know best, my man.” Then Police Constable XX. 24 began to feel an inward uncertainty as he marched the two off. The magistrate dismissed the case with a warning to the boy to avoid tht danger of mixing in bad company. “Thank ye, yer Honour ” and the boy was gone, but not before both the magistrate and the captain had real ised that he had glanced from "one to the other with an amused look that spoke volumes. Captain Mowbray stood a few moments on the court-house steps stroking his moustache, deep in thought. He hailed a waiting taxi-cab, and by a mere movement of his eyebrow ushered a small, red-haired boy therein, who had presumably been awaiting some such result. When they had driven out of the town about a mile the captain addresshis companion, “I say. my son, it w'as neatly done, that trick of yours. How did you do it?” The captain turned the light of his eyeglass on the ugly little face. The boy grinned with fervency into the single eyeglass. “Which sleeve is it up now, sir?” “Couldn’t say at all, my son; you’ve fairly flabbergasted me. But don’t do it again, sonny; it doesn’t pay, I promise you. You’ll be sorry for it some day.” The brown eyes sought the floor of the cab for a moment, and the captain became engrossed with the passing scenery. “Sir, you’re a real sportsman for not speakin’; an’ I didn’t want to steal the ’andkerchief; but ye looked so mighty lazy or bored or somethin’ that I thought I would like to see what ye would look like when ye weren't bored.” “Perhaps you’re right, somiy. and it would be better to show a little more feeling, and then I shouldn’t rouse the spirit of mischief in the breasts of such as you. And as for not speaking, sonny, why should I when speaking only means further trouble without really mending matters? But think better of it, my son. Anyway, I'd be really glad to learn that trick from you. | But where did you learn it, by the | way?” “My father learned me a lot of tricks like that; only ’e’s in—‘Click!’’’the boy made a clicking sound with his teeth and lips, and a movement with his right hand as if turning a key in a lock. Then he continued, ‘‘An’ ’e's not likely to come out yet, an' mother an’ I are mighty glad. A father like that doesn’t do much good to one in life! Now, sir, which sleeve is the ’andkerchief up?” “Neither, my boy;” and Captain

, Mowbray drew the khaki handkerchief I from the breast of his tunic. “When did yer put it there, sir?” | “Directly I felt you put it up my i other sleeve.” | The boy gasped for a moment, but j soon recovered his equanimity. “Ye j felt me put it there?” 1 Captain Mowbray nodded, an stifled a yawn. | “Who was the beautiful lady, sir, who drove by? ’Course, if she ’adn’t an' you ’adn’t saluted, I shouldn’t 'ave got the ’andkerchief back without the copper seein’.” Captain Mowbray remembered every i single little incident of the afternoon, I but the culprit failed to get an answer jto his last question. "Where are you takin' me to .sir?” J “Taking you, my son? Oh, just for I a little outing. Thought you might like some lunch.” “Golly!” ejaculated the culprit, and then he gave a long, low whistle. “Ever thought of going into the army, my son?” “Yes. sir. Ido play the drum in the Boys’ Brigade.” Captain Mowbray’s eyeglass fell with a faint flop against his tunic. He then opened his mouth as if to speak, but thought better of it. "Ah. well! here we are. Out you pop.” The culprit popped out accordingly. It was at an old-fashioned inn where they lunched sumptuously on things that well pleased the heart of the culprit. Captain Mowbray lit a cigarette, tilted back his chair, and watched the boy, who was engrossed with the de-

lightful process of eating gooseberrytart. and cream. “Then I take it from you, sonny, that you have thought of the army?” "Yes, sir. Got anything goin’ that might suit me? Lancers, ain’t you?” And he eyed the captain’s badges and the ribbons on his breast with a certain amount of awe. “How old are you, sonny?” “Eleven goin' on twelve. I'm small for me age, they say; but I guess I ain’t wantin’ in the upper story.” “No, I guess not.” There was a world of meaning in the captain's reply, and he smiled behind a strong brown hand. “Well, sonny, we want a drummer-boy the last one went out before I came home on furlough.” “Do you mean dead, sir?” “Yes. I’m afraid I do. Do you mind risking it? Don't do it if you think by any chance it will bore you, for to be bored is the very worst evil that can happen to you.” "Bored! Lor' lummy! it’s the very thing I should like, sir; you just gi’ me the chance." B.v-and-by “the culprit” had his chance, and he took it like a plucked un. “Halt! Who goes these?” “A friend. And take me to the colonel at once.” So spoke a breathless and dusty soldier. What has been a family mansion was now a mass of tumbled bricks and charred timbers, all except the kitchens and some lean-to out-houses. These were used for the officers’ quarters, and the few men that they left to them

were billeted in the cellars beneath the wreck of what once had been a beautiful French chateau. They were supposed to be taking a well-earned rest, but had come in contact with several stray scouting companies of the enemy, and had lost a number of good men; and now they were awaiting fresh orders. They thought they would be required to escort some long-delayed transports, but the orders had not come yet. “Yes; what is it?” “He’s missing, sir!” It was the breathless, dusty soldier who spoke; he was a sergeant, and had come back with his three men from doing scouting duty. “Who's ’he,' might I ask?" snapped the colonel. “Our drummer, sir; Sunny Jim.” "Want some men and an order to go back to look for him, eh?” “Yes, sir.” “Well, off with you. He's the most amusing monkey I’ve ever come across, and I'd be very sorry if he got into the enemy’s hands. Yes, Captain Mowbray, what can I do for you?” “Will you order me to go with the party, sir? You know that he is my protege.” “Oh, very well, if you must I suppose you must, but( mind, great care. No lives must be lost, and our position must on no account be given away.” They went, that small band of men. They hunted about for the better part of the scorching afternoon, and at last they found him in a small copse not far away from the chateau. He lay there quite still and frightfully wounded, beneath a silver birch-tree, the white bark of which was bespattered with his young blood. Captain Mowbray stooped over him and felt the lad’s heart, which was still faintly beating; then he lifted the light body in his strong arms. As the small band passed the sentry, and he challenged them with the old words of “Who goes these 7“ as if in answer the eyelids fluttered and lifted themselves off the brown eyes, and they looked straight into Captain Mowbray’s lazy gray ones, as he put the little figure gently on the ground out of the sun, in the shelter of a pile of bricks. "I kept ’em away, sir, an’ I’m goin’ out like the other chap did.". The eyes closed once more, and Captain Mowbray supported the young head on his knee. Then the voice uttered a few unintelligible words, and again was silent; he was evidently going fast. Suddenly be again opened his eyes as the surgeon stooped over him. “Hopeless?” The captain formed the

one word with his lips, and the surgeon answered. “Quite!” “Captain, stoop lower. I—l —want to whisper something. Sir ” The captain stooped lower, and took one of the little, dirty, blood-stained hands in his. “Yes, my son, I can hear. Is is anything that you want?” The brown eyes opened wider, and a weak laugh came from the poor, drawn lips. “Thank ye, sir, for once more callin' me that. What was it—that—the magistrate said ye would—have men—if—if he had found out —that you had helped—me—out of that scrape?” “An accessory after the fact.” “Yes —that was it. An’ if ye ever told any lies—in court —what would he have said then?” “That I had committed perjury.” The smile still lingered on the lips. Captain Mowbray and the surgeon thought that he was gone, and had not heard the captain’s last answer; but they were mistaken, for as the surgeon put out his hand to sign to the other man to put the boy down he suddenly half-raised himself, and the weak voice seemed quite strong again. “We’re quits now, sir. I told ’em that I had run away miles —an’ did not know where I was—an’ the more they hurt me an’ the more they made me talk the more lies I told. Put me down now, sir; I’m afraid I’ve dirtied your clothes. I'm a long while goin’ sir. I’m sure you’re really bored this time. Captain Mowbray’s eyeglass fell with a suddent tinkle against the boy’s breast; but he did not notice it. The captain took it carefully up, and polished it with a dirty handkerchief, before fixing it in his eye again. Again the boy raised himself, and the badly mangled hand went up to the flaming red hair with his last salute, and again he laughed, but this time with almost his natural strength, and fell back against the captain's knee for the last time. For he had gone on his last long journey. “Yes, quits, my son! But I’m on the right side this time.” Then the captain laid the little body gently down, and took from his breast a khaki silk handkerchief, with which he covered the small ugly face. . Yes, quits! And the men who were standing there bareheaded saw that the captain's eyeglass wanted a deal of polishing. Again the hot sun beat down as they dug the grave of Sunny Jim, and there was not a dry eye there, from the colonel downward, as the solemn words were read over him: “Dust to dust!” And afterwards, when they were relieved, not a man forgot to salute the tiny grave as they went away.