“Humph!” growled the Major, frowning at the Doctor, who responded by raising his glass, nodding, and drinking to him.
It did not seem long before the bugle sounded, and the men fell in, every lad drawing himself well up, trying to look his best and as proud as a peacock, when the Colonel rode along the ranks, noting everything and ready to give boy after boy a look of recognition and a word of praise about something which had been improved; for Colonel Graves had one of those memories which seem never to forget, and it had long been borne in upon the lads in the ranks that their leader noted and remembered everything, ready for blame or praise.
In this case he drew rein opposite one very thin-looking fellow, making his sallow face turn red.
“Felt any more of that sprain, Smith?”
“No, sir; right as can be now. Ain’t felt it a bit.”
“That’s right. Fall out, my lad, if it turns weak in the least, and get a ride.”
“Yes, sir; thanky, sir. I will, sir.”
A little farther on there was another halt.
“Those boots right, Judkins?”
“Yes, sir; fit splendid, sir.”