arms on his desk and went direct to his subject:
"Major, you were here on the Rock seven years ago, you say?"
"Here ten years, General. Regular rock scorpion—old-timer."
"Do you happen to recall this chap Woodhouse whom I sent to you to report for duty in the signal tower to-day? Has transfer papers from Wady Halfa."
"Haven't met him yet, though Captain Carson tells me he reported at my office a little more than an hour ago—see him after parade. Woodhouse—Woodhouse" The major propped his chin on his fingers in thought.
"His papers—army record and all that—say he was here on the Rock for three months in the spring of nineteen-seven," General Crandall urged, to refresh the other's memory.
Major Bishop stroked his round cheeks, tugged at one ear, but found recollection difficult.
"When I see the chap—so many coming and going, you know. Three months—bless me! That's a thin slice out of ten years."
"Major, I'm going to take you into my confidence," the senior officer began; then he re-
