cried Duff, sweeping his hand toward the deck. "You
would think this stuff was shot out of the blower of a threshing
machine--soldier's baggage, kits, quartermaster's stores--and this is a
military organisation. Good Lord!"

"Lieutenant Duff! Is Lieutenant Duff here?" It was the O. C.'s voice.

"Yes, sir," said Duff, going forward and saluting.

"Mr. Duff, I wish you to take charge of the Transport for the present.
Lieutenant Bonner is quite useless--helpless, I mean. You will find
Sergeant Mackay a reliable man. Sorry I couldn't give you longer notice.
I think, however, you are the man for the job."

"I'll do my best, sir," said Duff, saluting, as the O. C. turned away.

"What did I tell you, Duff?" said Barry. "You certainly are in for it,
and you have my sympathy."

"Sympathy! Don't you worry about me," said Duff. "This is just the kind
of thing I like. I haven't run a gang of navvies in the Crow's Nest Pass
for nothing. You watch my smoke. But, one word, Pilot! When you see me
bearing down, full steam ahead, give me room! I'll make this go or bust
something." Then in a burst of confidence, he took Barry by the arm, and
added in a low voice: "And if I live, Pilot, I'll be running something
in this war bigger than the Transport of a battalion before I'm done."

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,