NIGHT OPERATIONS.
"Storm or no storm," said Charles, "as a medical man I can't stick this fug any longer."
He disappeared behind the heavy anti-Zepp curtains and opened the window. A piercing draught caught the back of Bill's neck and he sat up.
"Look here," he said crossly, "this is no night for a poor Special to go out in. Can't I send a medical certificate instead?"
"You cannot," replied Charles. "I will not be a party to such evasions."
"It's pouring with rain and blowing a gale. No Zepp ever hatched would come over to-night."
"That's not the point, Bill." Kit unexpectedly opened one eye. "How are Charles and I to sleep soundly in our warm beds unless we know you're outside, guarding us?"
"That's right," growled Bill. "Hub it in. Your turn to-morrow, anyway."
The other two sang the praises of bed in fervent antistrophe till at last Bill rose with a groan and assumed his overcoat, badge and truncheon. He stopped at the door.