"Tu-whoo, tu-whoo then, bust yourself."
"What's it to be, sir?"
"We'll start with reveille."
Without a word, Sykes raised his trumpet and blew, the first notes evoking a faint "booing" from the closed tents. This ceased, however, as the call continued, and it dawned upon the hearers that it was the reveille sounding at three o'clock in the afternoon. Soon a few heads were thrust out to ascertain what the unusual departure portended.
"Again, William," and a second time the notes rang out. More heads appeared, followed by bodies, and then there was a general exodus from the tents. All faces were turned toward the quaint figure in the middle of the parade ground, and faint sounds of mirth arose.
"Laughing, that's something, anyway," muttered Graeme; "now the 'Assembly' quick, Bill."
The man obeyed. The figures hesitated for a moment, a buzz of conversation arose, and then a few came lounging forward. The remainder, a lead having once been given, followed, till a sea of sullen upturned faces surrounded the pair.
"Men of the 15th division," said Graeme, regarding them. "I'm the Commander-in-chief. 'Mad Jack' they call me. Allow me to introduce myself." He took off his hat and bowed all round.
There was a puzzled silence, broken by a voice:
"Go to 'ell! We don't want no bloody Commander-in-Chiefs 'ere."