“If they’ll take me.” The Corporal spoke slowly and softly. “And I daresay they will—if I ask ’em polite.”
Josiah’s keen face was full of queer emotion. “Not for me to say anything.” But he had been charged with a mission by the urgent Melia. No matter what his private feelings let him not betray it! “Seems to me, my boy, although it’s not for me to say anything, that no one’ll blame you, after what you’ve been through, if you stand aside and make room for others.”
The Corporal extended both legs towards the fire. He gazed into it solemnly without speaking.
“Well, think it over, Bill.” The voice of the tempter. “No one can blame you, if you stick to your present billet, which suits you so well—or even if you go into munitions at a good salary. You’ll have earned anything they give you. And in a manner o’ speaking you’ll still be doing your bit. But as I say ... it’s not for me....”
Strangling a groan, the Corporal rose suddenly from his chair, “I must think it over.” He threw the stump of his cigar into the fire. “You see, I don’t like leaving the Chaps.” The voice of the Corporal sank almost to a whisper.
The Mayor gave his guest a second cigar and chose another for himself. But he didn’t say anything.
“You see—as you might say—I’ve had Experience.”
The Mayor looked a little queerly at the Corporal. Then he took a penknife out of the pocket of a rather ornate knitted waistcoat and dexterously removed the tip from his cigar.
“I’ve had Experience.” The Corporal sighed and sat down heavily in his cushioned chair. He fixed his eyes again on the fire.