"No one has complained of
'em yet. They expand a bit when they arrive.... Empty your bottle, please,
and show your rations."
The man poured out his water-bottle and showed the two-inch emergency tin.
Harrison passed on to the next, but I was fascinated by the way in which
the man re-established himself amid his straps and buckles, asking no help
from either side.
"How long does it take you to prepare for inspection?" I asked him.
"Well, I got ready this afternoon in twelve minutes," he smiled. "I didn't
see the storm-cone till half-past three. I was at the Club."
"Weren't a good many of you out of town?"
"Not _this_ Saturday. We knew what was coming. You see, if we pull through
the inspection we may move up one place on the roster for foreign
service.... You'd better stand back. We're going to pillow-fight."
The companies stooped to the stuffed kit-bags, doubled with them
variously, piled them in squares and mounds, passed them from shoulder to
shoulder like buckets at a fire, and repeated the evolution.
"What's the idea?" I asked of Verschoyle, who, arms folded behind him, was
controlling the display. Many women had descended from the carriages, and
were pressing in about us admiringly.
"For one thing, it's a fair test of wind and muscle, and for another it
saves time at the docks. We'll suppose this first company to be drawn up
on the dock-head and those five others still in the troop-train.
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