The Man Who Knew Too Much - I

Here is a short story by Alexander Baron. This is one of the funniest stories I have read. I will post in three parts so that it may not look too long to read. Enjoy!

The Man Who Knew Too Much

I first met Private Quelch at the training depot. A man is liable to acquire in his first week of Army life-- together with his uniform, rifle and equipment -- a nickname. Anyone who saw Private Quelch, lanky, stooping, frowning through horn-rimmed spectacles, understood why he was known as the Professor. Those who had any doubts on the subject lost them after five minutes' conversation with him.

I remember the first lesson we had in musketry. We stood in an attentive circle while a sergeant, a man as dark and sun-dried as raisins, wearing North-West Frontier ribbons, described the mechanism of a Service rifle.

'The muzzle velocity, or speed at which the bullet leaves the rifle', he told us, 'is well over two thousand feet per second.'

A voice interrupted. 'Two thousand, four hundred and forty feet per second.' It was the Professor.

'That's right', the sergeant said without enthusiasm, and went on lecturing. When he had finished, he put questions to us; and, perhaps in the hope of revenge, he turned with his questions again and again to the Professor. The only result was to enhance the Professor's glory. Technical definitions, the parts of the rifle, its use and care, he had them all by heart.

The sergeant asked, 'You had any training before?'

The Professor answered with a phrase that was to become familiar to all of us. 'No, Sergeant. It's all a matter of intelligent reading.'

That was our introduction to him. We soon learned more about him. He saw to that. He meant to get on, he told us. He had brains. He was sure to get a commission, before long. As a first step, he meant to get a stripe.

to be contd.....