“Here, Pete, what were you grinning at? At me?”
“No, sir. That I warn’t, sir. I never grin at you. I only do that at the Sergeant when he aren’t looking.”
“You were certainly grinning, Pete.”
“No, sir; only felt comfy-like.”
“Oh, that’s right,” said the young officer; and then to himself, “It is seven o’clock, and it is to get up his appetite, I suppose. Sharpen it on me.—Well, Pete, what have you been up to now?”
“I d’know, sir.”
“Nonsense! You must know.”
“S’elp me, sir, I don’t. The patient one has got his knife into me as usual. I expected it was to be pack-drill, but I come off with a two bucket job—water for the cook.”
“Now, look here, Pete; tell the truth for once in a way. The Sergeant wouldn’t have come down upon you for nothing.”
“What, sir! Oh, I say, Mr Archie, you can go it! Old tipsy Job not come down upon a fellow for nothing! Why, I have heerd him go on at you about your drill—”