Barry let his eyes run over the powerful figure, the rugged, passionate face, lit up now with gleaming eyes, and said:
“I believe you, Duff. Meantime, I'll watch your smoke.”
“Do!” replied Duff with superb self-confidence. And it was worth while during the next hour to watch Duff evolve order out of chaos. First of all he put into his men and into his sergeant the fear of death. But he did more than that. He breathed into them something of his own spirit of invincible determination. He had them springing at his snappy orders with an eagerness that was in itself the larger half of obedience, and as they obeyed they became conscious that they were working under the direction of a brain that had a perfected plan of action, and that held its details firmly in its grasp.
Not only did Duff show himself a master of organisation and control, but in a critical moment he himself leaped into the breach, and did the thing that balked his men. Did a heavy transport wagon jamb at the gangway, holding up the traffic, with a spring, Duff was at the wheel. A heave of his mighty shoulders, and the wagon went roaring down the gangway. Did a horse, stupid with terror, from its unusual surroundings, balk, Duff had a “twitch” on its upper lip, and before it knew what awful thing had gripped it, the horse was lifted clear out of its tracks, and was on its way to the dock.
Before he had cleared the ship, Duff had a circle of admirers about him, gazing as if at a circus.
“An energetic officer you have there,” said the brass hat standing beside the colonel.
“A new man. This is his first time on the transport,” replied the colonel.
“Quite remarkable! Quite remarkable!” exclaimed the brass hat. “That unloading must have been done in record time, and in spite of quite unusual conditions.”
The boat being clear and the loads made up, Duff approached the Commanding Officer.
“All ready, sir,” he announced. “Shall we move off? I should like to get a start. The roads will be almost impassable, I'm afraid.”