‘You were real good on that stunt to-day. Good-night, sir.’
‘Good-night, Johnson.’
When Tosher got to the hut, he looked at the book. It was entitled Deeds that Won the Empire.
CHAPTER XXII.
THE SPIRIT OF GOD.
The extraordinary thing in our hut was that the quietest and most decent member of our little society was, in reality, the most powerful. This was Billy Greens, generally known as ‘The Padre.’ In controversy Ginger or Tosher could simply bowl him out, but for all that there was a sweetness and a kindness about him that made him a very dear pal. He was always so broad, ever willing to understand us, but quietly and effectively he was pitting his moral weight against our immoral and careless code. Billy had no physical strength to speak of. It was really a shame to see him in khaki, for temperamentally he was unfitted for the awful strain. But he was there of his own choosing. As he always said, ‘It is a holy war.’ This gave him a great standing. He was fighting for a moral cause, and we did think him a cut above the ordinary parson.
Billy Greens was a ‘white man.’
His strength lay in his private conduct, which was above suspicion. A fair sportsman, in a ‘rag’ he took his punishment. We never heard him speaking about ‘the Cross’ or ‘salvation,’ but in his own charming way he would lug one or more of us out for a walk, and land us in the Y.M.C.A., where he regaled us with refreshments and kept us to hear the entertainments. And the most amusing thing was that he and Ginger (the so-called Rationalist) were the best of pals. Ginger, however, was no Rationalist; he was just an argumentative beggar, so brilliant that he could flatten every one of us out. At all hours of the day and the night Billy and Ginger were going it, but it was quite evident that the padre was coming out top-dog, and taking the sting out of Ginger’s oratory. As a matter of fact, after they had lived three months together, Ginger ceased to batter the Church, and often helped his clerical chum to get up concerts for the Y.M.C.A.