Lavender had identified himself completely with the writer; and if
anyone had told him that he had not uttered these sentiments, he would
have given him the lie direct. Working from heat to heat the article
finished in a glorious outburst with a passionate appeal to the country
to starve all German prisoners.
Mr. Lavender put it down in a glow of exultation. "I shall translate
words into action," he thought; "I shall at once visit a rural district
where German prisoners are working on the land, and see that the farmers
do their duty." And, forgetting in his excitement to eat his breakfast,
he put the journal in his pocket, wrapped himself in his dust-coat and
broad-brimmed hat, and went out to his car, which was drawn up, with
Blink, who had not forgotten her last experience, inside.
"We will go to a rural district, Joe," he said, getting in.
"Very good, sir," answered Joe; and, unnoticed by the population, they
glided into the hazy heat of the June morning.
"Well, what abaht it, sir?" said Joe, after they had proceeded for some
three hours. "Here we are."
Mr. Lavender, who had been lost in the beauty of the scenes through
which he was passing, awoke from reverie, and said:
"I am looking for German prisoners, Joe; if you see a farmer, you might
stop.
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