"I don't think you will find me
in it. Somehow, when one's seen--seen the thing itself, you
know--blood and men screaming, one feels about having a little
house and a little hobby; in the Bible, you know, `There remaineth
a rest'."
Northover bowed. Then after a pause he said:
"Gentlemen, may I offer you my card. If any of the rest of you
desire, at any time, to communicate with me, despite Major Brown's
view of the matter--"
"I should be obliged for your card, sir," said the Major, in his
abrupt but courteous voice. "Pay for chair."
The agent of Romance and Adventure handed his card, laughing.
It ran, "P. G. Northover, B.A., C.Q.T., Adventure and Romance
Agency, 14 Tanner's Court, Fleet Street."
"What on earth is "C.QT."?" asked Rupert Grant, looking over the
Major's shoulder.
"Don't you know?" returned Northover. "Haven't you ever heard of
the Club of Queer Trades?"
"There seems to be a confounded lot of funny things we haven't
heard of," said the little Major reflectively. "What's this one?"
"The Club of Queer Trades is a society consisting exclusively of
people who have invented some new and curious way of making money.
I was one of the earliest members."
"You deserve to be," said Basil, taking up his great white hat,
with a smile, and speaking for the last time that evening.
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