He hadn't said much, but his look, his tone and manner told the men that he was in command in that room, and that he intended to keep the command fully in his own hands.
There was no further trouble that night, though the young sergeant could not escape the knowledge that he was generally disliked here.
When guard-mounting assembly sounded at nine the next morning Sergeant Hal Overton marched the new guard on to the field.
Battalion Adjutant Wright was on hand, but Lieutenant Algy Ferrers, the new officer of the day, was absent.
The adjutant turned, scanning the ground between there and officers' row. There was no sign of Lieutenant Ferrers, and in the Army lack of punctuality, even to the fraction of a minute, is a grave offense.
"Orderly," directed Adjutant Wright, turning to a man, "go to Lieutenant Ferrers' quarters and direct him, with my compliments, to come here as quickly as he possibly can."
The orderly departed on a run. But he soon came back, alone.
"Sir, Lieutenant Ferrers is not in his quarters?"
"Not in quarters? Did you look in at the officers' club, too?"
"Yes, sir. Lieutenant Ferrers' bed was not slept in last night, so his striker told me."