"Ha! ha! ha!" laughed the crowd in a rollicking way, for Paddy Doolan was the champion liar in the corps. But his story was sufficient to drag another drink out of the green-eyed Spud, and that was the main point so far as Doolan and his pals were concerned.
"It's your turn now, 'Dominie,'" said the captain to a grizzled old red-nosed warrior, who had seen better days.
"What do you want?"
"Tell us about Algy—some of them haven't heard that yarn."
"Well," said the Dominie, lighting up his [pg 48] old cutty-pipe, "Algy was a gent who listed in my first 'crush'—the Perthshire Kilties. He arrived one night at Fort George with a cabful of luggage, a bicycle, a box of sardines and prunes, and a big printed roll showing how he descended from Willie the Conqueror—that's the chap who led the Normans."
"D'ye mean the Mormons?" interjected Spud.
"No, you fathead. However, Algy rang the bell. When the sergeant opened the gate he saluted, for he thought this was some new officer.
"'I'm a recruit, sergeant,' said Algy.
"'What's yer name?' asked the sergeant.
"'Algy de Verepot—I've been "plucked" at Sandhurst, and I want to get a commission through the ranks.'"