“You mustn’t mind Wyatt. He’s a queer fellow, but he means well.”
“Here, I say—gently!” cried the gentleman named: but the captain went on as if no one had spoken:
“He’s big and old, but he’s a mere boy—not a bit older in brains than you are: but if you keep him in his place, I dare say you two will be able to get on together.”
“I say, I’m not going to stand this!” cried Wyatt.
He took his friend’s bantering remarks so seriously that Dick burst out laughing, making the lieutenant look annoyed for the moment; but by degrees a smile began to dawn upon his face.
“He sees the joke at last,” cried Captain Hulton. Then gravely: “Look here Wyatt; I want to talk to you about that ugly business.—It will not interest you, Darrell. It is something which occurred before you joined—court-martial.”
Dick took this as a hint that the matter was private, and he turned to converse with the next officer at the table—a sub-lieutenant in the detachment of foot artillery, very little older than himself.
Chapter X.
His Monkey Up.
The preliminaries were soon settled, and Dick was seizing every opportunity to, as he said, “go round to the stables and have a look at my horse.”