"For the duration of the what?" exclaimed the astonished Hughes. "Dash it all, what's the war to do with you? They haven't put you in the ballot by mistake?"
"No," replied the lad. "It's like this. But perhaps I'd better show you the governor's letter."
Mr. Hughes read the proffered document.
"I see," he said gravely. "And you wish to avenge your brother?"
"Not avenge--it's duty," corrected Malcolm. "I can't exactly explain---- Now Peter's gone----"
"You have no positive information on that point, Malcolm."
"Wounded and missing--that means that there is no longer a member of our family in the firing-line. I'm seventeen, I'm a sergeant in the cadet corps, physically fit, and all that sort of thing. And I don't suppose they'll be too particular as to my age if I forget to say that I was born somewhere about the year 1900."
The Boss considered for some moments.
"I won't stand in your way, my boy," he said kindly. "After all, the actual work here won't start until after the war. The preliminary surveys can still go on. All right, Malcolm! jolly good luck and all that sort of thing, you know. Come and lunch with me before you start."
The morning passed ever so slowly. Contrary to his usual manner, Malcolm found his thoughts wandering from his work. The desire to be up and doing, to push on with his share in the great adventure, gripped his mind to the exclusion of all other topics. In the ranks of the Dominion lads there was one of many gaps waiting specially for him to fill, and he meant to fill it worthily.