"I thought we got them all," said the barber's son.
"Must have missed one that was buried by a shell and another shell must have dug him up!" muttered Pilzer, glaring at the barber's son. "It's not nice on people with ladylike nostrils. James, get the eau de cologne and draw his bath for our plutocrat!"
"You see, something had to be done about the dead between the redoubts," explained the barber's son, "though the officers on both sides were against it."
"Naturally. It afforded opportunities for observation," put in Peterkin, repeating the colonel's words.
"But finally it was agreed to let a dozen from either side go out without arms," the barber's son concluded.
"I heard there was great complaint from the women," went on the judge's son. "Women aren't like what they were in the last war. They want to know what has become of their men-folk. They have been gathering in crowds and making trouble for the police. One of the old reservists was telling me of talk of an army of women marching to the front to learn the truth of the situation."
"If you don't stop leaning on me I'll give you a punch you'll remember!" exclaimed Pilzer as he rammed his elbow into the old reservist's ribs.
"I beg pardon! It was because I am tired and sort of blank-minded," the old reservist explained.
"You brute!" snapped the banker's son to Pilzer.
"Mallin thrashed you once and I've done it once. On my word, I've a mind to again!"