Off he went, swinging his cane in a brainless manner, and leaving behind him a well of hate and scorn. This man had in ten minutes smashed our happy home, and given us a prospect of h—— for the next two months.
‘Old Army!’ said Ginger ironically, as the door banged.
‘No, Ginger; he’s the fag-end of the system, but he isn’t a patch on the other good fellows,’ I answered.
‘He’s a prize prig, anyway. He’s out for trouble; but I fancy we can do him in.’
‘Sure thing,’ grunted Tosher.
‘He’s only a boy—a foolish boy,’ commented Billy, who was indeed a most tolerant man.
‘I’ll tell you what he is,’ remarked Beefy. ‘He’s a ruddy inefficient swine, chucked out of some crack battalion.’
And that was about right!
II.
Next day Blase-Bones had us all up for a lecture.