They were still in the dressing tent when the secretary thrust his cheery face under the flap.
“I say, boys! Are you ready? Cameron, we want you on the pipes.”
“Harp!” said Mack. “I am going home. I am quite useless.”
“And me, too,” said Cameron. “I shall go with you, Mack.”
“What?” cried Fatty in consternation. “Look here, boys! Is this a square deal? God knows I am nearly all in myself. I've had enough to keep this thing from going to pieces. Don't you go back on me now!”
“That is so!” said Mack slowly. “Cameron, you must stay. You are needed. I will spoil things more by staying than by going. I would be forever seeing that hammer crushing down—” He covered his face with his hands and shuddered.
“All right, Mack! I will stay,” said Cameron. “But what about you?”
“Oh,” said Black Duncan, “Mack and I will walk about and have a smoke for a little.”
“Thanks, boys, you are the stuff!” said Fatty fervently. “Once more you have saved the day. Come then, Cameron! Get your pipes. Old Sutherland is waiting for you.”
But before he set off Mack called Cameron to him.