William followed him to a small table in the little sunny porch, and his heart swelled with pride as he sat and quaffed his beverage with a manly air.  His friend, who said his name was Mr. Blank, showed a most flattering interest in him.  He elicited from him the whereabouts of his house and the number of his family, a description of the door and window fastenings, of the dining-room silver and his mother’s jewellery.

William, his eyes fixed with a fascinated stare upon Mr. Blank’s ears, gave the required information readily, glad to be able in any way to interest this intriguing and mysterious being.

“Tell me about the war,” said William at last.

“It were orl right while it larsted,” said Mr. Blank with a sigh.  “It were orl right, but I s’pose, like mos’ things in this ’ere world, it couldn’t larst fer ever.  See?”

William set down the empty glass of lemonade and leant across the table, almost dizzy with the romance of the moment.  Had Douglas, had Henry, had Ginger, had any of those boys who sat next him at school and joined in the feeble relaxations provided by the authorities out of school, ever done this—­ever sat at a real table outside a real public-house drinking lemonade and talking to a man with no ears who’d fought in the war and who looked as if he might have done anything?

Jumble, meanwhile, sat and snapped at flies, frankly bored.

“Did you”—­said William in a sibilant whisper—­“did you ever kill anyone?”

Mr. Blank laughed a laugh that made William’s blood curdle.

“Me kill anyone?  Me kill anyone? ’Ondreds!”

William breathed a sigh of satisfaction.  Here was romance and adventure incarnate.

“What do you do now the war’s over?”

Mr. Blank closed one eye.

“That ‘ud be tellin’, wudn’t it?”

[Illustration:  “DID YOU”—­SAID WILLIAM IN A SIBILANT WHISPER—­“DID YOU EVER KILL ANYONE?”]

“I’ll keep it awfully secret,” pleaded William.  “I’ll never tell anyone.”

Mr. Blank shook his head.

“What yer want ter know fer, anyway?” he said.

William answered eagerly, his eyes alight.

“‘Cause I’d like to do jus’ the same when I grow up.”

Mr. Blank flung back his head and emitted guffaw after guffaw of unaffected mirth.

“Oh ’ell,” he said, wiping his eyes.  “Oh, stroike me pink!  That’s good, that is.  You wait, young gent, you wait till you’ve growed up and see what yer pa says to it.  Oh ’ell!”

He rose and pulled his cap down over his eyes.

“Well, I’ll say good day to yer, young gent.”

William looked at him wistfully.

“I’d like to see you again, Mr. Blank, I would, honest.  Will you be here this afternoon?”

“Wot d’yer want to see me agine fer?” said Mr. Blank suspiciously.

“I like you,” said William fervently.  “I like the way you talk, and I like the things you say, and I want to know about what you do!”