They were saluting, preliminary to departure, when the major added:
"You will report to General Young, division commander, at ten o'clock."
A little bewildered by the salutes of those privates who knew of their promotions, even though they did not yet wear upon their sleeves the two stripes indicating their advance to corporals, Jerry and Slim hurried toward the wash spigots, preliminary to an assault upon the mess tent.
There they met Joe, who had just come off duty as night wireless operator at headquarters. They shook hands, and then Slim demanded to know about that letter from Brighton.
"It was from our old friend, the telegrapher, Philip Burton," said Joe, "and it was written about three weeks ago."
"That's pretty quick delivery," said Slim. "What did he have to say?"
"Well, it seems they've had reports there of some of our experiences coming over, and Mr. Burton says some of the finest things."
"Good old Burton!" mused Jerry. "He always did credit us with being a lot better and brighter and more capable than we really were."
"Yes, and we owe him a lot," added Slim, "for he was really responsible in the first place for our getting here. If it hadn't been for what he taught us about telegraphy we'd never be sergeants now."
"That's right," said Joe. "Fellows, Mr. Burton's getting pretty well along now. He'll be an old man before very long. I wish we three could do something to really show him our appreciation of what he's been to us."