“Torp’s in abeyance just now. He’s off love-making somewhere, I suppose,” said the Nilghai.
“He said he was going to stay at home,” said the Keneu.
“Is he?” said Dick, with an oath. “He won’t. I’m not much good now, but if you and the Nilghai hold him down I’ll engage to trample on him till he sees reason. He’ll stay behind, indeed! He’s the best of you all. There’ll be some tough work by Omdurman. We shall come there to stay, this time.
But I forgot. I wish I were going with you.”
“So do we all, Dickie,” said the Keneu.
“And I most of all,” said the new artist of the Central Southern Syndicate.
“Could you tell me——”
“I’ll give you one piece of advice,” Dick answered, moving towards the door. “If you happen to be cut over the head in a scrimmage, don’t guard.
Tell the man to go on cutting. You’ll find it cheapest in the end. Thanks for letting me look in.”
“There’s grit in Dick,” said the Nilghai, an hour later, when the room was emptied of all save the Keneu.