in
restrained and carefully chosen speech addressed him.

"Look here, Fatty, I'm askin' you, don't you ever say things like that
outside of these lines, for the sake of the regiment, you know. I'd
really hate the other battalions to know we had got such--" He halted
himself abruptly and then proceeded more quietly, "A man as you in this
battalion. My God, Fatty, they'd think your brains had run down into
your pants. I know they haven't, because I know you haven't any." He
took a fresh breath, and continued his address in a tone of patient
remonstrance. "Why, man, don't you know that wherever the British Army
has gone, its Highland regiments have cleared the way; and that when the
pipes get playin' the devil himself couldn't hold them back?"

"I don't wonder," said Fatty innocently. "They make a man feel like
fightin' all right."

Sergeant Mackay scanned his face narrowly, uncertain as to whether
he should credit the pioneer sergeant with intelligence sufficient to
produce a sarcasm.

"What I mean is," exclaimed Fatty, seeking to appease the wrathful
transport sergeant, "when you hear them pipes, you get so stirred up,
you know, that you just feel like kullin' somebody."

This apparently did not improve matters with Sergeant Mackay.

"Oh, darn it, you know what I mean!"

"No, Fatty," said the sergeant solemnly. "I don't know what you mean,
but I'll suggest this to you, Fatty. You go down to that Pete mule, down
there at the end of the line and talk to him. I guess he'll understand
you. I'm busy just now."

"I don't see what you're so hot about," said the pioneer sergeant in an
aggravated voice, "but I'm going to see the boys come in anyway."

When the distant sound of the pipes coming from the direction of the
front line was heard in camp, men of the various transport lines and
base units lined up to watch the battalion come in. For the rumour had
run that they had had a bad go, that they had beaten back no less than
three rather formidable raids of the enemy and had been badly cut up.
More than that, by reason of the lack of reinforcements, they had had
to do a double tour, so that they were returning from an experience of
thirteen days, in what was indeed the veritable mouth of hell.

"I guess they are all pretty well all in," said Sergeant Matthews, who,
standing with his pioneers, had been carefully avoided by his friend
Sergeant Mackay. That enthusiastic Scot had for the time being abandoned
his transpo