The colonel stood up, and his eyes beamed. He came over to old Sam and shook his hand.
“Mr. Gates,” he said, “you are an old brick. You will probably hear more of this. You have probably been the means of delivering something very useful into our hands. Your own honor is vindicated. A loving government will probably award you five shillings or a Victoria Cross, or something of that sort. In the meantime, what can I do for you?”
Old Sam scratched his chin.
“Oi want to get back ’ome,” he said.
“Well, even that might be arranged.”
“Oi want to get back ’ome in toime for tea.”
“What time do you have tea?”
“Foive o’clock or thereabouts.”
“I see.”
A kindly smile came into the eyes of the colonel. He turned to another officer standing by the table, and said: