"
"Yes," said the Major, "we must just go on killing Germans and collaring
every bit of their property we can."
Mr. Lavender sat a little further forward on his chair, and the trouble
in his eyes grew.
"After all's said and done," continued the Major; "it's a simple war--us
or them! And in the long run it's bound to be us. We've got the cards."
Mr. Lavender started, and said in a weak and wavering voice:
"We shall never sheathe the sword until----"
"The whole bag of tricks is in our hands. Might isn't Right, but Right's
Might, Mr. Lavender; ha, ha!"
Mr. Lavender's eyes lighted on his glass, and he emptied it in his
confusion. When he looked up again he could not see the Major very well,
but could distinctly hear the truculent bonhomie of his voice.
"Every German ought to be interned; all their property ought to be
confiscated; all their submarines' and Zeppelins' crews ought to be
hung; all German prisoners ought to be treated as they treat our men.
We ought to give 'em no quarter. We ought to bomb their towns out of
existence. I draw the line at their women. Short of that there's nothing
too bad for them. I'd treat 'em like rabbits. Vermin they were, and
vermin they remain."
During this speech the most astounding experience befell Mr.
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