'I say, commander,' one of the firm's bigwigs had said to Wooten as they steamed down the river, 'is it true that the Germans have been laying mines off the coast?'
'M'yes,' said the lieutenant-commander; 'I believe it is.'
'Is there any chance of our being blown up?'
'No-o,' said Wooten slowly; 'I don't really think there is, though of course this bad weather we've been having lately will have broken many of 'em adrift.'
'And what'll happen if we hit one?' his companion wanted to know.
'Happen!' said the naval officer. 'The bloomin' thing'll probably go off, and we shall take single tickets to heaven in a puff of smoke. We're chock-full of lyddite and gun-cotton, and'----
The civilian seemed rather perturbed. 'Of course, I'm not really nervous,' he hastened to explain, looking rather white about the gills as he fidgeted with an inflatable rubber life-belt round his middle; 'but I do hope you'll keep a careful eye on the pilot.'
'Of course I will. I'm not going to let him bump one of the bally things unless I can't help it. She's still your ship, though,' added Wooten, 'and I'm not really responsible.'
'No, I quite understand that,' said the other; 'but, you see, I'm not used to--er--risks of this kind. I'm not paid for it, and I've a wife and five children.'
'You're insured, I suppose?' asked Wooten, smiling to himself.
'Yes; but my policy doesn't cover war risks.'
'H'm! that's bad; but I shouldn't worry about it if I were you. If we do go sky-high'---- Wooten paused.
'What were you going to say?' the bigwig asked apprehensively.
'I was thinking,' Wooten went on with a malicious twinkle in his eye--'well, I was thinking that if we are blown up there will be quite a merry little lot of us--nearly a couple of hundred--what? I can almost see myself as a nice fat little cherub sitting on a damp cloud twanging a harp--eh? They'll probably serve you out with a trombone. Can you play one?' He laughed, for somehow his companion reminded him of the man who had played that instrument in the orchestra of the Portsmouth Hippodrome in pre-war days.
'I do wish you'd be serious,' the contractors' representative observed sadly. 'This is no joking matter.'
'I am serious,' Wooten protested, trying hard to control his face.