He just glanced up and nodded.
“Sit down, Bracy,” he said, and he went on writing, his table being a couple of bullock-trunks, with a scarlet blanket by way of cover.
“Enemy are out pretty strong this morning.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Ha! yes.”
There was a pause, filled up by a good deal of scratching of the pen, before the stern-looking officer began again.
“You are quite strong now, Bracy?” he said at last, without looking up.
“Never felt better in my life, sir.”
“I said strong, Bracy.”
“Nor stronger, sir.”