"Go slow," said the Tommy, "'e's a proper bit of all right, 'e is, don't you make no mistake. That's 'is way. 'E's just the same under fire, never turns a 'air. 'E was drawlin' 'is orders this mornin' like 'e was on parade. An' it was a tight corner, too."
"Were you attacked this morning?" Horace asked, with sudden interest.
"We fair were! I was through the Boer War, an' the 'ottest fight we 'ad in that was frost-bitten aside o' this mornin'."
"I'm not surprised," the boy retorted. "I could have told that human icicle with the eye-glass—if he'd had the sense to listen—that there are five corps facing your two. Besides, they've reserves ready to jump you any minute."
The Tommy looked at him curiously.
"Not now they won't," he said.
"Why not?"
"They're in a blue funk."
"You mean—scared?"
The soldier nodded mysteriously.