"Why not shake the brute out?" suggested Danvers.
"You try it," suggested Laxdale, whose enthusiasm was decidedly on the wane. "Wilmshurst here has turned mouldy. He refuses point blank to let me use his raiment of neutral colour as a door-mat. I might add that if you've ever had the experience of a particularly active member of the rodent family scampering down your back you wouldn't be quite so keen."
"How about turning out the machine-gun section?" asked Spofforth. "Look here, if you fellows want to be ready for tiffen you'd better get a move on. Suppose——"
"Still they come!" exclaimed Laxdale, as a knock sounded on the jalousie of the cabin door. "Come in."
It was Tari Barl in search of his master.
"Tarry Barrel, you old sinner," said Wilmshurst, "can you catch a rat?"
"Me lib for find Mutton Chop, sah," replied the Haussa saluting. "Find him one time and come quick."
Dudley looked enquiringly at his cabin-mate, knowing that Mutton Chop was Laxdale's servant.
"Oh, so that rascal's the culprit," declared Laxdale. "Didn't I say I thought so?"
"Bring Mutton Chop here," ordered Wilmshurst, addressing the broadly smiling Tari Barl.