“Oh, rot!” replied the M. O. “Open up the door!”
“Excuse me, sir,” said the corporal, “it is not safe. At present, he is clean crazy. He is off his nut entirely.”
The M. O. stood listening at the door. From within came moaning sounds as from a suffering beast.
“That man is suffering. Open the door!” ordered the M. O. peremptorily.
The corporal, with great reluctance, unlocked the padlock, shot back the bolt, and then stood away from the door.
“It is the medical officer, McCuaig,” said the doctor, opening the door slightly.
Bang! Crash! came the scantling upon the door jamb, shattering it to pieces. The whole guard flung themselves against the door, shoved it shut, and shot the bolt.
“I warned you, sir,” said the panting corporal. “Better leave him until morning. He's a regular devil!”
“He is no more a devil than you are, corporal,” said Barry, in a loud, clear voice. “He is one of the best men in the battalion. More than that, he is my friend, and if he spends the night there, I spend it with him.”
So saying, and before any one could stop him, Barry shot back the bolt, opened the door, and with his torchlight flashing before him, stepped inside.