It was always the way with Philip to demand of his chum what movements might be expected, as if indeed, though attached to the Head-quarters, Geoff was likely to be in the confidence of his seniors. Yet he knew something of their intentions at times, and knew well enough that further movement was anticipated.
"You see, it's like this," he told Philip, there being no one else about. "The party we sent off along the Karun River and the pipe-line into Persia have seized Ahwaz, and have secured the oil-supply for our battleships. Just look at this map I am making in the mud! Rather a good place for drawing one, ain't it? Now, here's the Tigris and Kurnah, and there are the swamps that we went into with Commander Houston. By the way, glad to hear that he's doing well. He's on his way to India now, and good reports have been received about him. Well, there are the marshes."
"Where our good friend the Turk did us the honour of joining us, eh!" grinned Philip. "What an adventure that was, Geoff! Wish we could have more of 'em!"
It was Geoff's turn to tell his friend to "Shut up!"
"Don't interrupt!" he said irritably, thrusting the point of his stick deep into the mud, and pointing impatiently to the map which he had been outlining. "Let a fellow get on with his description. There's the Tigris."
"You've said that already," grumbled Philip.
"Well, I say it again! There it is!"
"Yes, the Tigris, we all know that! Put a T against it!"
That made Geoff laugh, and obediently he sketched a huge T in the sand and mud before him.
"Right oh!" he said. "Tigris."