"What?" shouted Smith. "Do you mean to speak to me without being spoken to?"
"I know it's very wrong, sir," said Sam, "but there's something I want very much, and I don't know how else to get it."
"Well, I'll forgive you this time, because I'm an easy-going fellow. If it had been anybody else but me, you'd have got your first fight. What is it? Out with it."
"Please, sir, when I was haz—I mean exercised the other night, I saw somebody taking photographs of it. Do you think I could get copies of them?"
"What do you want them for?" asked Smith suspiciously.
"I'd like to have something to remember it by," said Sam. "I want to be able to show that I did just what Generals Gramp and German did."
Smith smiled. "All right," he replied. "I'll get them for you if I can, and I'll expect you to work all the better for me. Now go."
"Oh, thank you, sir—thank you!" cried Sam; and he went.
That night he and Cleary talked over the situation in whispers as they lay in their bunks.
"I don't like this business at all," said Cleary. "I didn't come to East Point to black boots and make beds. It's a fraud, that's what it is."