‘He ain’t had any rations drawn for him, anyhow. If he wants any grub let him get it in the sergeants’ mess with his pals,’ he concluded spitefully, evidently alluding to Jack’s friendliness with Barrymore.
‘Here, I say, that’s all rot,’ said Hodson. ‘He’s hungry.’
‘Then let him gnaw that,’ grinned Napper, pointing to the bone which remained in the tin.
‘Never mind, chummy; share with me,’ said Hodson, proceeding to put some of his dinner on Jack’s plate.
‘Certainly not,’ replied Jack. ‘I’m not very hungry, and in any case Mr Napper says I can have the bone. I’ll take him at his word, for I’m particularly fond of picking a bone.’
The ‘Mr’ tickled the fancy of the youngsters, one or two of whom grinned gleefully, perceiving which, Napper scowled round upon them.
‘Look here, you young tramp,’ he said savagely to Jack, ‘don’t you give me any of your cheek or I’ll cuff your head for you. And you can take off those elegant manners too. If your “superior education” fits you for the orficers’ mess you’d better get there; they want waiters anyway. But while you’re here you’ll knock under, d’ye hear?’
‘Perfectly, you speak loudly enough.’
Another titter ran round, which made Napper redder than ever.
Hodson had put the bone on Jack’s plate, and was adding some potatoes when Napper cried out, ‘Drop those; we don’t mind giving dogs bones, but we don’t give ’em spuds.’