“R-rather, sir. He recommended me for my first stripe. I—I’ll go and get my things on at once, sir.”
“If you young subalterns only knew a quarter as much as Charlie Straker,” remarked the Weasel, as the ex-ranker clattered upstairs, “there’d be second stars on a good many sleeves. . . .”
“Damn good chap, the C.O.,” said Hutchinson, when the four were alone again. “Pretty good seat on a horse too.”
The remainder agreed.
§ 3
“Who’s my best subaltern, Straker?” asked the Colonel as they strode through the darkness.
The other hesitated. “C-Conway’s very good, sir.”
“And what about Bromley? He’s seen service, you know. . . .” Stark stood still for a moment. . . . “I wish to goodness you’d learn to read a map, Straker. Can’t put you in for promotion till you can.”
“I—I know. I’m rotten at it, sir.”
They walked on.