"Noo, Beefy, you've got tae step intae the officers' mess for your prize-money—jist as ye are. The colonel'll gie ye the money at the table." Unsuspecting, Beefy glibly complied, while Spud and his friends took post in the darkest corners to watch the affair.
The officers were having dinner at the time, in fact they had just arrived at that part where the band plays the National [pg 61] Anthem, and the subaltern of the day proposes the toast of—
"Gentlemen—The King!"
when in burst Beefy M'Fadyen all perspiring and somewhat bruised—a perfect nightmare in his boxing attire. All the young officers burst out laughing, but the colonel roared, "Silence, gentlemen!" Then, turning to Beefy, he said—"How dare you enter the officers' mess? What do you mean, sir?"
"I waant my prize-money."
"What money—you fool?"
"Ma thirty bob for knockin' oot Curly Broon."
"Who sent you here?"
"Spud Tamson."
"Well—get out."