"Off to the war?"
They both laughed, which Harry rather resented.
"We're under orders, sir," he said, politely. "But, of course, they won't
let us Scouts go to the war."
"Don't rag them, Cecil," said the other officer. "They're just the sort we
need. Going to Ealing, boys?"
Harry checked Dick's impulsive answer with a quick snatch at his elbow. He
looked his questioner straight in the eye.
"We weren't told to answer any questions, sir," he said.
Both the officers roared with laughter, but they sobered quickly, and the
one who had asked the question flushed a little.
"I beg your pardon, my boy," he said. "The question is withdrawn. You're
perfectly right--and you're setting us an example by taking things
seriously. This war isn't going to be a lark. But you can tell me a few
things. You're scouts, I see. I was myself, once--before I went to
Sandhurst. What troop and patrol?"
Dick told him, and the officer nodded.
"Good work!" he said. "The scouts are going to turn out and help, eh?
That's splendid! There'll be work enough to go all around, never you
fear."
"If, by any chance, you should be going to Ealing Barracks," said the first
officer, rather slyly, "and we should get off the train when you do,
there's no reason why you shouldn't let us drive you out, is there? We're
going there, and I don't mind telling you that we've just finished a two
hour leave to go and say good-bye--to--to--"
His voice broke a little at that.
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