THE COLOR GUARD
Well, they certainly did. Spotless, unwrinkled, as if they, too, had been "boning" colours. Randolph marched out on higher heels than those prescribed in the regulations, and later on presented himself fearlessly as a candidate for honours. And the inspecting officer's face seemed to say he had reason; Randolph could see approval in every look and gesture. Gloves, buttons, gun were scrutinised; the trousers were dazzling and smooth. Then the officer passed round for a back view. Hair right length, collar right height above the grey, belt and buttons adjusted to a nicety.
"Mr. Randolph," said the cadet adjutant, as he came round in front, "I would have given you colours but for those trousers."
And when Randolph got in and scrutinised himself he found that the borrowed trousers were deeply frayed at the ankle! After which the young man professed himself blue and bored.
"Just my luck," he said. "But I'll get even with him, see if I don't. They were only fringed behind."
Two or three days after this, Randolph accosted Magnus.
"Say, Kin, want some fun? Like to see Coxy scared within an inch of his life?"
"No sort of objection on my part; rather B. J. in you to propose it."
"It's more than propose," said Randolph. "Just you hang round my tent about nine o'clock."