“Less talking there, Burr junior.”
This from Mr Rebble, and I went out, passing close to Burr major, who looked me up and down contemptuously, as he took out his watch, and said to the nearest boy,—
“Rank favouritism! if there’s much more of it, I shall leave the school.”
But I forgot all this directly, as I stepped out, where I found Lomax standing up as stiff as a ramrod, and with a walking cane thrust under his arms and behind his back, trussing him like a chicken, so as to throw out his chest.
He saluted me in military fashion.
“Mornin’, sir. Your trooper’s waiting. Looks a nice, clever little fellow.”
“Trooper?” I faltered in a disappointed tone. “What do you mean? I thought it was the horse come.”
“So it is.”
“But trooper?”
“Of course. Well, charger, then. Officers’ horses are chargers; men’s horses, troopers.”