But the provost interrupted to say, “You needn’t worry about that, Captain Winstead, if the sergeant is really a man.”
At that moment Sergeant Canwick stood up and turned to face the assembled inspectors.
The M.P. who had accompanied the Lieutenant to the Captain’s rooms was the first to laugh—for which the provost promptly rewarded him with a scowl.
Then the Captain began to chuckle.
And then the provost himself had to laugh—for the look on Jay-Jay’s face was enough to make even the General Staff burst into guffaws.
“You may go, Lieutenant,” suggested the provost.
Sergeant Canwick stood with his breeches in one hand and his shirt in the other, laughing so hard that he couldn’t begin to get into either.
It was fifteen minutes before he managed to get dressed and he and the Captain saluted the provost, thanked him, and returned to the Captain’s rooms.
When the door had shut, the sergeant began to remove the blouse with the sergeant’s chevrons on it, as he observed smilingly, “That’s the funniest thing I ever went through!... You sure are a brick, Captain.”
The Captain was still laughing when he went into the bedroom and opened the closet door to permit its occupant to come out.