"Keep your wool on; I'm only going to shut the door," said Ginger.
"What's in the wind, you fellows?" said Kenneth. "Why are you hanging about the door? Come round the fire and light up: we'll have a smoking concert or something."
There were mutterings among the group. Some words reached the ears of the two men at the fire-place.
"It's your job: you're a sergeant."
"No fear; you don't catch me..."
"Ginger's the man..."
"Spouts like a M.P...."
At last Ginger was pushed through to the front. He grinned, half turned to protest, was swung round again; then he drew his hand across his mouth.
"Mr. Harry, and Mr. Amory," he began.
"Oh, come now, no misters here," Harry broke in.