Ted shut up. He would have dearly liked to say something cutting, but could not think of any suitable retort on the spot. And by the time a brilliant repartee had come to him, he had perceived that his brother was at least as much upset as himself. Thereupon he remained discreetly silent.
“There’s Alec lying over there. He looks bad.”
“Well, Alec, old chap, not very bad, I hope?”
“Not dead yet! They’ve got the bullet out all right, and I’ll soon be about again. By Jove, Ted, you’re a wonder! It was a mad thing to do, but rather a good job for all of us.”
“What was that?” asked Jim in great surprise. He had not yet heard of Ted’s great feat.
“Nothing; it’s all bosh,” interrupted Ted, colouring and looking somewhat sheepish.
“What! Do you mean that you haven’t heard?” Paterson demanded, and proceeded to relate the story of their rescue by the Gurkhas. “It was one of the pluckiest things I’ve heard of,” he concluded, “to charge a couple of hundred with twenty. You’ve saved fifty lives, and ought to be sure of the V.C. now, in spite of Tynan.”
Jim rose from his seat, and solemnly shook hands with his brother. “Ted,” said he, “I’m sorry I was such a beast just now.”
Ted turned very red, and his hand remained limp as Jim shook it. His chum’s very evident admiration did not seem to give him any pleasure.
“I s’pose you’ve not heard anything of the other columns yet?” asked the invalid.