“Any news? Ain’t come back, I s’pose?” said Jerry.
“No; he won’t come back till he’s brought,” said Brumpton rather sternly. Then, suddenly, “I told you about my bit of a row with Wilkins?”
Jerry nodded.
“There’s a fine upset about that. Can’t tell yet what’s to be the end of it. I don’t want to lose my stripes.”
“Oh, they ought to let you off,” said Jerry.
Sergeant Brumpton shook his head.
“Discipline,” he said, “discipline. I oughtn’t to have let my temper get the better of me.”
“But the officers won’t be able to help laughing. He must have looked like a periwinkle stuck in his shell. Go and tell him you’re very sorry, and shake hands.”
“Ah! you don’t understand our ways here, Brigley. He wouldn’t take the apology. He don’t like me going there to practice, because it was all through young Smithson, for he hates him like poison.”
“Yes, or he wouldn’t have said what he did,” cried Jerry. “It was too bad.”