Evening star., 1921-05-09
Bulldog Drummond
BY CYRIL McNEllE (''Sapper")
A Novel of Mystery, Love and Adventure.
L, GeorxeH H. DoranC Col
BY CYRIL McNEILE ("Sapper"'

d minimum In each case the staff
vas small. the work largely that OF
organization. But in each district
tiyre appeared ten or a dozen names
of men who We're cuphcm lstica lt%
Described as lecturers. while al ,i.~,
End Of the book there appeared EcA?-
) fifty nameS--bOth of men and
vrmen-wh" We're proudly denoted
~ tirsi-clasS general lecturers. And
t Drumhiond had ruDned his ~
at some Of th- names on the organic
ing staffs. the ti.st-ctass general lee
urt;S deprived him of speech.
''Why.' he spiutteled after q mo-
ncIIt. q lot % these peoples name.
are absolute hous hold words in tho
by are. Thank God. I've very
rarely met any. but they amt Grim
mas"
NO more is Peterson" srinned the
American; "a; Least no. on that book.
See here, captain. it's pretty clear
\ hats happening. in any country
'odaT you've got all sorts and con-
ditions of people with NOR" wind
nan brain. They 'ust cant stop
Ia liking. and as yet it $ not a Grim
'nai oTense. some Of EN- believe
what they say. like Spindleshanks
upstairs: some Of EN- don't. And If
hey don't it makes EN- wors~: tn~l,
start writing as well. You've got
clever men. intellectual n>en---iook at
some # those guys IN the hrSt-ciasS
general icctureS-ard thryr. thu
yynrs, Of the :ct Then you've got
another class-the men Win th,.
business brain. who thinl: they're
getting the sticky end OF it. and use
the takers to pull the chestnuts out
OF the fire for them. And the chest
nuts. vino are the poor blamed de-
cent working men. are promptly
dropped in the ash-pit to keep EN-
quiet They all want something for
not hing. and guess it can't be done.
They all think they're foolng one
another. and what's really going at
the moment is that Peterson is fool
ing the whole bunch He wants all
.he strings in his hands. and il looks
20 me as if he'd got en- there. He's
go, the money-and We know where
he got it from: he's got the orsanl-
zation-ail either red-hot revoiu-
t;onaries. or intellectual windstorms.
or calculating knaves. He's anna
gamated 'em. captain. and the whole
blamed lot. whatever they may think.
are really working for him
Drummond thoughtfully lit cigar
cite.
"Working toward revolution in
this country" he remarked. quietly.
Sure thing" answered the Amer
lean. And when he brings it off
guess you won't catch Peterson for
dust: Hen pocket the Doodle and
Juice. M I guessed it in Paris: that
hook makes It a certainty.
But it amt criminal. In a court OF
law he could swear it was an organ
:zation for selling bird seed"
For while Drummond smoked in
silence. while the two sleepers shift
ed uneas4y in their chairs. 1t all
seemed so simple. in spite of the i'm
mensity Of the scheme. Like most
oh nn1jficS and labor
disputes had left him cold in the
past: but no one who ever GLANCED at
=, newspaper could be ignorant of the
Volcano that had been simmering just
Not one in a hundred"-the Ameri-
cans voice broke into his train of
thought-"of the so-called revolution
airy leaders in this country are dis
interested. CAPITA in. They're out for
Number One. and when they've talked
the boys into bloody murder. and
your existing social system is down
and out, they'll be the leaders in the
new one. That's what they're play
ing for-power: and when they've got
EN-"
- Drummond nodded. and lit another
cigarette: Odd things he had read
required to him; trade unions refus-
ing to. allow discharged soldiers to
join them; the reiterated threats of
direct action. And to what end?
A passage in a part of the ledger
evidently devoted to extracts from
the speeches of the tirst-class general
lectures. caught his eye:
ITO me. the big fact of modern life
is the war between classes. i
People declare that the method of di-
rect action inside a country will pro-
duce a revolution. agree -. it
Involves the creation Of an army. ~
And beside the cutting was a note
by Peterson in red ink: "
An excellent man. Send for pro-
traeted tour"
The note of exclamation appealed to
Hugh: he could see the writer's
tongue in his cheek as he put it in.
CONTINUED in Tomorrow's Starr