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So he trudged off, refusing a lift. Oh, no, I don't think we need to worry about the returned soldier. Only let him return, that's all. When he does, he's a better man than we are, Gunga Dinn. The War Sacrifices of Mr. Spugg Although we had been members of the same club for years, I only knew Mr.
I hate to do it, but this is no time to stick at anything." A little later William and Henry were reported both back in France. This was at the very moment of the great offensive. But Spugg went about his daily business unmoved. Then came the worst news of all. "William and Henry," he said to me, "are both missing. I don't know where the devil they are." "Missing?" I repeated. "Both of them.
Spugg to bear the burden of the war. I found him in the lounge room of the club one afternoon among a group of men, exhibiting two medals that were being passed from hand to hand. "Sent to me by the French government," he explained proudly. "They're for William and Henry. "I shall keep one and let Alfred keep the other till they come back."
Spugg's chauffeur, Henry, went overseas. He was reported first as in England. Next he was right at the front, at the very firing itself. We knew then, everybody in the club knew that Mr. Spugg's chauffeur might be killed at any moment. But great as the strain must have been, Spugg went up and down to his office and in and out of the club without a tremor.
I'm going to see Henry clear through on this." It was at this point that at my own urgent request I was introduced to Mr. Spugg, so that I might add my congratulations to those of the others. I told him that I felt, as all the other members of the club did, that he was doing a big thing, and he answered again, in his modest way, that he didn't see what else a man could do.
We've both telegraphed him to stick it out." The news was the chief topic in the club that day. "Spugg's gardener has been torpedoed," they said, "but Spugg refuses to have him quit and come home." "Well done, Spugg," said everybody. After that we had news from time to time about both William and Henry. "Henry's out of the hospital," said Spugg. "I hope to have him back in France in a few days.
"What do you do if Henry's mutilated?" asked Mr. Spugg, turning his quiet eyes on the insurance man and facing the brutal facts of things without flinching. "What do you pay? Suppose I lose the use of Henry's legs, what then?" "It's all right," said his friend. "Leave it to us. Whatever he loses, we make it good." "All right," said Spugg, "send me round a policy.
"He's sending over Meadows, HIS OWN MAN!" There was no need to comment on it. The cool courage of the thing spoke for itself. Meadows, Spugg's own man, his house valet, without whom he never travelled twenty miles! "What else was there to do?" said Mr. Spugg when I asked him if it was true that Meadows was going.
I told Henry that it's a showdown and that he's to get ready and start right away." "Well, Spugg," said one of the members "you're certainly setting us a fine example." "What else can a man do?" said Mr. Spugg. "When does your chauffeur leave?" asked another man. "Right away. I want him in the firing line just as quick as I can get him there."
"It's a fine thing you're doing, Spugg," said a third member, "but do you realise that your chauffeur may be killed?" "I must take my chance on that," answered Mr. Spugg, firmly. "I've thought this thing out and made up my mind: If my chauffeur is killed, I mean to pay for him, full and adequate compensation. The loss must fall on me, not on him.
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