“Me? Do me a favor?” He spoke in a voice and manner of infinite scorn.
“Yes. He was entirely right when he said it was improper and against the rules to use emery paper on your rifle barrel. A little oil, a piece of soft wood, and a woolen rag will remove a spot of rust effectually and save the finish on your barrel.”
If Hal had thought to appease his comrade’s wrath by this explanation, he soon discovered his error. Barriscale was more violently angry than before.
“Who set you up,” he shouted, “as an instructor in the care of arms?”
McCormack was still calm.
“No one,” he replied. “I’ve simply studied my regulations, and Chick taught me, a week ago, how to remove rust.”
“Oh, Chick taught you, did he? Major-General Chick! No wonder you’ve made a bosom friend of him! It seems to be the height of your ambition to make boon companions of anarchists and fools!”
This was his parting shot. He put his rifle in its place in the rack with a bang, flung his cleaning appliances into his locker and snapped the door shut, and then, white with unreasonable rage, he left the room.