“You know,” I said, “I am absolutely inexperienced as regards fowls.  I just know enough to help myself to bread sauce when I see one, but no more.”

“Excellent!  You’re just the man.  You will bring to the work a mind unclouded by theories.  You will act solely by the light of your intelligence.  And you’ve got lots of that.  That novel of yours showed the most extraordinary intelligence—­at least as far as that blighter at the bookstall would let me read.  I wouldn’t have a professional chicken farmer about the place if he paid to come.  If he applied to me, I should simply send him away.  Natural intelligence is what we want.  Then we can rely on you?”

“Very well,” I said slowly.  “It’s very kind of you to ask me.”

“Business, laddie, pure business.  Very well, then.  We shall catch the eleven-twenty at Waterloo.  Don’t miss it.  Look out for me on the platform.  If I see you first, I’ll shout.”

CHAPTER III

WATERLOO STATION, SOME FELLOW-TRAVELLERS, AND A GIRL WITH BROWN HAIR

The austerity of Waterloo Station was lightened on the following morning at ten minutes to eleven, when I arrived to catch the train to Combe Regis, by several gleams of sunshine and a great deal of bustle and activity on the various platforms.  A porter took my suitcase and golf-clubs, and arranged an assignation on Number 6 platform.  I bought my ticket, and made my way to the bookstall, where, in the interests of trade, I inquired in a loud and penetrating voice if they had got Jeremy Garnet’s “Manoeuvres of Arthur.”  Being informed that they had not, I clicked my tongue reproachfully, advised them to order in a supply, as the demand was likely to be large, and spent a couple of shillings on a magazine and some weekly papers.  Then, with ten minutes to spare, I went off in search of Ukridge.

I found him on platform six.  The eleven-twenty was already alongside, and presently I observed my porter cleaving a path towards me with the suit-case and golf-bag.

“Here you are!” shouted Ukridge vigorously.  “Good for you.  Thought you were going to miss it.”

I shook hands with the smiling Mrs. Ukridge.

“I’ve got a carriage and collared two corner seats.  Millie goes down in another.  She doesn’t like the smell of smoke when she’s travelling.  Hope we get the carriage to ourselves.  Devil of a lot of people here this morning.  Still, the more people there are in the world, the more eggs we shall sell.  I can see with half an eye that all these blighters are confirmed egg-eaters.  Get in, sonnie.  I’ll just see the missis into her carriage, and come back to you.”