"You're wanted at the orderly-room at three p.m.," continued the sergeant. "An' don't you forget it."
"Say, sergeant——"
"Well?"
"Do you know what I'm wanted for?"
"Dunno, me lad; you'll find out when you are told an not a minute before."
Ralph received the message with certain misgivings. The word "orderly-room" had an unpleasant significance. Vainly he racked his brains to try to remember if he had done anything for which he might be "crimed." Then, perhaps, it might be that he was to be detailed for clerical work. Perish the suggestion! He had had enough of that at the bank. He hadn't come out to the Front to follow the irksome routine of doing orderly-room correspondence.
At the hour Ralph reported himself and was brought before the colonel of the Wheatshires.
The C.O. lost no time in coming to the point,
"I've had a report concerning you," he began. "I understand that you were in charge of a small squad, that you rushed a machine-gun emplacement, and that you rendered material assistance under heavy fire to a disabled Tank. The officer making the report states that you behaved with admirable bravery, intelligence, and discretion under highly dangerous circumstances."
The colonel placed the paper on his desk and searched amongst a pile of documents for another. Setley, in the meanwhile, stood rigidly at attention, inwardly ill at ease. He had merely done his duty. The subsequent eulogy from his C.O., although highly gratifying, quite bewildered him.