"Oh, hallo, Brammle. Yes, come in."
"Is it peace, Jehu?" asked Brammle.
"War. We'll be the first to go. No, no route yet--likely to get it
any minute."
"I'll bet, then. Bet you it's Bombay--a P. and O.--Red Sea and
Marseilles! Oh, who wouldn't be light cavalry? First-class all the
way, first aboard, and first crack at 'em! Any orders, sir?"
"Yes. Take charge. I'm going out, and Warrington's going with me.
Don't know how long we'll be gone. If anybody asks for me, tell him
I'll be back soon. Tell the men."
"Somebody's told 'em--listen!"
"Tell 'em that whoever misbehaves from now forward will be left
behind. Give 'em my definite promise on that point!"
"Anything else, sir?"
"No."
"Then see you later."
"See you later."
The major went away, and Kirby turned to his adjutant.
"Go and order the closed shay, Warrington. Pick a driver who won't
talk. Have some grub sent in here to me, and join me at it in half an
hour; say fifteen minutes later. I've some things to see to."
Kirby wanted very much to be alone. The less actual contact a
colonel has with his men, and the more he has with his officers, the
better--as a rule; but it does not pay to think in the presence of
either. Officers and men alike should know him as a man-who-has-
thought, a man in whose voice is neither doubt nor hesitation.
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