Ralph Stock

“ The German leant back in his chair.
There followed a rather strained silence.
"War is a return to barbarism," announced Cobb. "It's out of date, like duelling."
"But it remains the final argument of men—and nations," added Chisholm. "Come, you'll agree with me there, Zwarg."
"I agree, absolutely," admitted the German.
"So there you are, Cobb, old man." Chisholm turned triumphantly on the American. "You can come off your perch and talk battle, murder, and sudden death with the rest of us. What do you think of the chances?" ”

“ Suppose Zwarg gives his parole not to——"
"He won't," snapped Chisholm.
"How do you know that?"
"Ask him."
Cobb turned, but the German was already on his feet, standing at rigid attention.
"Mr. Chisholm iss right," he said, with tremendous dignity. "I gif no parole votever."
"There you are," cried Chisholm, "and small blame to him! What's more, I wouldn't take a German parole."
The veins at Zwarg's temples swelled visibly. His hands were clenched.
"You ——" he began, in a guttural growl.
"See how we love one another at bottom!" grinned Chisholm gleefully. "You're up against it, Cobb." ”

“ Zwarg went to the rail and looked over at the damage, then retraced his steps up the beach. He looked neither to right nor left, but passed straight on up the bush track to his bungalow, took his rifle from the wall and loaded it. Chisholm was still sitting under the palm, watching the cutter list to starboard. From the edge of the beach Zwarg took careful aim, shot Roko through the head, and returned to his bungalow.
For a moment Chisholm sat numbed, staring down at the dead body of his friend.
"Poor old man!" he muttered. "Poor old devil!" ”

“ They passed up the beach in a strange silence, and stood round a wicker table on Cobb's verandah while he sorted the mail. It was mostly newspapers, and they gave letters preference, tearing them open and devouring their contents with an avidity only possible to those cut off from the outside world for months on end.
For perhaps five minutes there was no sound on Cobb's verandah but the rending and crackling of paper. Mynah birds strutted about the men's feet unnoticed ”

“ The German inclined his head.
"No, here's the position, and we may as well face it. Zwarg's just as determined to go to the Front as I am that he shan't, and we'll leave it at that, if you don't mind. We don't want to argue about it; we want to fight, so you can look upon your peace efforts as a frost." Chisholm rose and held out his hand. "Thanks all the same, old man. Good night."
"And what do you propose to do now?" Cobb demanded plaintively.
"That's our business," said Chisholm. "So long!" ”

“ Let me introduce you, then. 'Can't' is an abbreviation of 'cannot,' and in this instance means that you cannot join your regiment because you're on British soil after hostilities have begun. You'll be held in Suva, I expect. ”