"Don't be a bally ass!"
"All right, cocky; hand me that sword."
As Bill's bayonet looked rather unpleasant, the officer complied. Then Bill sat down. Pulling a black stump of a pencil out of his pocket, he proceed to write a dispatch. It was as follows:
"DEAR CURNEL,—Paddy Doolan an' I, with twenty boys, just captured enemy's position. Enemy running like blazes. The officer bloke refuses to be dead. I'm sending him to you. We're just goin' off to try an' capture a general.—Yours,
"BILL BUSTER."
"P.S.—Did you get that mad fellow wot thinks we're playin' cricket? Pore chap!"
This letter and the prisoner were dispatched under escort to Colonel Killem in rear. Bill again proceeded to join the long line of scouts which now faced the outposts of the enemy. This was the second stage of the attack. The "screen" now came up and thickened the Australian line. Many officers came with it, so Bill, without protest, vacated the post of "general."
"Bang, bang, bang!" went the rifles. "Z-r-r-p-rip-rip!" went the machine-guns, while the sullen boom of the field artillery in rear indicated that matters were becoming interesting.
"Advance by rushes," ordered the senior Australian officer in the front line.
"Why don't you let us give 'em the bayonet?" muttered Bill, disagreeing with the tactics of his superior.
"Shut up," ordered an old sergeant.