"Yes, it is, too! Jove! If I only had his chance," sighed the little subaltern, twirling around distractedly on one heel.
"There! There! That'll do, Baby," said Bennett, patting him on the head. The little subaltern squirmed, but he kept listening to what Bennett was saying.
"He's a rum comrade, but I imagine he can do it," said Bennett looking toward the barracks, thoughtfully, "He knows the fine points of surveying from A to Z, and—"
"—He's got more nerve than any chap I ever knew," put in Mackenzie.
"Is the old man going to send an escort with him? I bet if he does, it'll be Sandy McCann," said Pearson.
"What's this? What's this I hear about Robert being sent off to-night?"
Young Stewart of the Engineers joined the group hastily. His uniform was covered with dust and he held his helmet under his arm, wiping the moisture from his face.
"Why, it's almost certain death. I—"
"That's why we're here—to face death, if we have to," said the little subaltern, with an odd new gravity, and Bennett suddenly stopped short in patting his head.
Stewart turned.