"I only wish we could hurry it up.... Hullo, here's Ginger! I didn't expect to see you, old man."
"I'm going home, boys!" cried Ginger, with a smiling face. His arm was in a sling. "Doctor says I'll be no good for three months. Shoulder dislocated! My word! he did give me beans when he jerked it into place. But I'm going home, home! Fancy how the missus and kids will jump! Not but what I'm sorry to leave you."
"I don't grudge you a rest, old chap," said Harry, "but we shall want you back again. Listen to this."
He read parts of the newspaper paragraphs. Ginger swore.
"I tell you what," he cried. "I'm not going home to do nothing. I'm going recruiting. That's what I am. I've spouted a lot of rot in my time; they'll hear some hard sense now. By George! and if I don't have at least a score of recruities to my name, call me a Dutchman. But I've got some news for you--better than those horrible things in the paper."
"What's that?" asked Kenneth.
"Well, you see, Colonel sent for me, and we had a talk, man to man; Colonel's a white man, that's what he is. As a matter of fact, I've done a bit of spouting this evening. But the chaps didn't want much talking to; they're all right. Verdict unanimous this time. To cut it short, that promise of yours is off. The chaps say they're quite satisfied with their job. Not one of 'em wants to go back to the works until they've seen the Kaiser get his deserts. And Colonel is writing home to say he wants commissions for you in the Rutlands."
"You mean it, Ginger?"
"That's just what I do mean. When I come back, you'll be officers. There's just one thing. If I should happen at first to forget to salute----"
"Oh, rot, man!" cried Harry. "You're a good sort."