About This Book
WELL, we've seen something of the fun, exclaimed Hugh Frazer, as the last of the 89th Regiment of Infantry filed through the jealously-guarded gateway of the Naval Yard at Naples. Come on, let's get back to the front, and we may see the transports leave the bay.HughHugh Frazer and his stanch companion, Gerald Kit-by, were staying with the former's parents at the Hôtel des Etrangers. Both lads had been spending their summer holidays in Italy, and were leaving for England at the end of the week. They ought to have been already at school, but a slight attack of malaria, which with the utmost impartiality had affected both boys, had prevented them from returning to Rossall at the commencement of the term.Hugh, more generally known to his companion as Rags, a nickname bestowed upon him by reason of his hot-headed impulsiveness, was fifteen years of age, tall, well-proportioned, and dark-featured. Gerald, on the other hand, was three inches shorter, slightly inclined to stoutness, and of a fresh, ruddy complexion. His face almost invariably wore a smile, with the result that his schoolfellows promptly dubbed him Sunny Jim, a nickname that eventually was fined down to Jim. He was six months younger than Hugh, and so even-tempered that he seemed eminently suited to his companion's impulsive and masterful nature.Threading their way through the dense crowd of enthusiastic Neapolitans who still pressed round the now fast-closed gates, the two lads set off at a quick pace, in spite of the sweltering heat of that October afternoon.Look out, Rags! shouted Gerald, pulling his chum backwards just in time to escape being run down by a motor car that, packed with officers of the Bersaglieri, was pelting down the Strada Marina at a break-neck pace. The lads drew back, and found themselves under the noses of a couple of mules, which a fluent-voiced Neapolitan cabby was urging in the opposite direction. Lustily tugging at the ropes that did duty for reins, the man succeeded in pulling up, to the accompaniment of a volley of abuse directed towards the cause of the obstruction. The sudden halt caused the sole occupant of the ramshackle cab to thrust his head through the open window in order to ascertain the reason for the delay, and to Hugh Frazer's surprise he recognized an old friend of his family, Arthur Reeves.Whoever would have thought of meeting you in Naples, Hugh? exclaimed Mr. Reeves genially. Jump in—your friend too, of course—and tell me as much as you can in less than a minute. My time's precious just now.The two lads were not slow in availing themselves of the invitation, and the lumbering vehicle resumed its way.When Arthur Reeves was in England, he lived in a bungalow not far from the Frazers' home at Shoreham, where he was a frequent and welcome guest. He was six feet in height, of fairly light build, long-limbed and thin-featured. He was partially blind in his left eye and nearly deaf in his left ear, but in spite of these defects he succeeded in passing the doctor in an examination for the Accountant Branch of the Navy. How he did it could never be satisfactorily explained, though he strongly asserted that it was sheer bluff. But he was ploughed in the educational examination, and took to journalism. By another supreme piece of bluff he succeeded in getting a post as war correspondent in one of our petty border wars. This was his bent. He did so well getting his copy through a good two hours before his rivals that his success was assured. In the Boer War he made the circulation of his paper increase by leaps and bounds, succeeding by more bluff in gaining exclusive information and adding to his fame. He came home with a splendid reputation, a touch of enteric, and a Mauser bullet wound in his left leg; but in spite of the fact that the left part of his anatomy was seriously crippled, his energy, resource, and marvellous descriptive powers made him in great request as a special correspondent. In this capacity he had been dispatched to the ends of the earth, often at a few hours' notice, always adding to his laurels; and, being a born linguist, he had a thorough knowledge of French, German, and Italian, and more than a smattering of Turkish, Arabic, Hindustani, and Swahili. Ten days previously he had been enjoying a brief but well-earned rest at Shoreham, after an exciting time in a revolution in Central America; then, like a bolt from the blue, came the news of Italy's high-handed declaration of war against Turkey.Reeves was ready within an hour of receiving a telegram from his chief. Wearing a worn yet serviceable suit of khaki, and light, strong boots and puttees, and carrying a small portmanteau containing his trusty Mauser pistol, fifty rounds of ammunition, writing materials, and a change of linen—the old war correspondent knew the importance of carrying but little impedimenta—
