slightest trace of a foreign pronunciation in his sentences.  

"That is where submarines score," continued the man. "So long as they retain their reserve of buoyancy they are practically safe. They can return to the surface and remain motionless. Of course I am alluding to peace conditions. A helpless submarine lying awash would stand a very poor chance in action if exposed to the fire of a hostile vessel. I presume, sir, that you are a naval officer?"  

"Your surmise is at fault," replied Dacres. "I have no connexion with the——" he was about to say "service," but checking himself in time substituted "navy."  

A shade of disappointment flitted across the stranger's face.  

"Thought perhaps you were," he said apologetically. "The subject of the navy interests me. By the by, does this train stop at Southampton Docks?"  

"No," replied Dacres. "Only at Southampton West. It's quite a short distance thence to the Docks."  

"Ah, that is good. You see, I am a cold storage contractor, and this is my first visit to Southampton. My duties hitherto have been confined to Liverpool and Manchester. Thanks for the information, sir."  

Then, drawing a notebook from his breast-pocket, the stranger broke off the conversation as abruptly as he had started.  

"That's strange," thought Dacres. "He seemed very much inclined to yarn till I told him I had no connexion with the service—worse luck. He shut up like a hedgehog after that. Cold storage contractor, eh? With a red-hot temper, I'll be bound. Pity the poor bounders under him."  

Shortly afterwards Dacres happened to glance in the direction of the livery-looking individual. He was still deep in his notebook. On the cover, partially concealed by the man's flabby hands, was the title in gilt letters. Enough was left uncovered for Dacres to read the words "Telegrafos y——"  

"H'm! My yellow-skinned fellow-traveller understands Spanish after all," he soliloquized. "Perhaps my original summing-up is not so much at fault after all."  

The man made no further attempt to enter into conversation, but just as the train was rushing through Winchester station he stood up, took his handbag from the rack, and went out into the corridor.  

The express pulled 

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