Walton's last remarks brought the conversation back to where it had been before the mention of Kennedy switched it off on to new lines. Perry had been complaining that he thought camp a fraud, that it was all drilling and getting up at unearthly hours. He reminded Walton that he had only come on the strength of the latter's statement that it would be a rag. Where did the rag come in? That was what Perry wanted to know.
"When it's not a ghastly sweat," he concluded, "it's slow. Like it is now. Can't we do something for a change?"
"As a matter of fact," said Walton, "nearly all the best rags are played out. A chap at a crammer's told me last holidays that when he was at camp he and some other fellows loosed the ropes of the guard-tent. He said it was grand sport."
Perry sat up.
"That's the thing," he said, excitedly. "Let's do that. Why not?"
"It's beastly risky," objected Walton.
"What's that matter? They can't do anything, even if they spot us."
"That's all you know. We should get beans."
"Still, it's worth risking. It would be the biggest rag going. Did the chap tell you how they did it?"
"Yes," said Walton, becoming animated as he recalled the stirring tale, "they bagged the sentry. Chucked a cloth or something over his head, you know. Then they shoved him into the ditch, and one of them sat on him while the others loosed the ropes. It took the chaps inside no end of a time getting out."