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Formal intimation was to hand that Dumble, Judd, Bob Pottinger, young Beale, Stenson, and Tincler had been awarded the Military Cross, and Major Veasey the D.S.O. Drysdale was happy because, after many times of asking, he had got back from headquarters, Patrick, the black charger that he had ridden early in 1916. The tide of success rolled on.
"I am very sorry, Dumble, that you got hit, I am really, but well, you did get the apples and some nice sandwiches too, you know; and when you aim at Dan it is never with anything nicer than hot water, and you know you did really scald him once but he never told how it was done." Dumble looked rather foolish. "Didn't 'ee now?" he said, but his tone was less indignant.
And so it came to pass. Presently, we saw the horseman turn off at right angles; the jaded colts hesitated, trotted a few yards, and stood still. A faint neigh floated down wind. "Doggone it!" exclaimed old man Dumble, "his horse is fresh. He's got friends in the hills." We had left the trail, and were pounding over the sage-brush desert.
"If all colonels were as competent and knowledgeable as our colonel, we should have won the war by now," said Dumble as he and I walked away. "What a beautiful day." "Yes. Oh to be in England, now that April's here," I chimed in. "Oh to be in England, any bally old time of the year," Dumble corrected me.
The larger share of it Dan received in his own shoes amidst the derisive laughter of his two intended victims on the engine; and so completely mortified was he that Dumble, for a wonder, refrained from his usual revenge, that of squirting hot water from the engine over him.
"I couldn't get to the Battery, sir the enemy are round it, between it and our infantry," began Dumble in cut-up tones. "The nearest I got was in a trench held by the 7th Westshires. An officer told me that an advanced party of the enemy came over the crest about 12.30. They fired Very lights in response to a Hun contact plane that flew towards the switch-trench leading N.E. towards the battery.
Sorry we were too late for the mackerel, but we had some grand sport, all the same. You'll have a day or two's rest ashore now." "Aye, aye, sir!" Dumble replied. "We got in just in time. There's something more than a squall coming up nor'ards." Sir Henry listened for a moment. The French windows shook, the rain beat against the panes, and a dull booming of wind was clearly audible from outside.
But," growing very serious and dignified again, "I consider Dumble the most dishonourable man I ever met, and I'll never speak to him again never; and I'll have to leave Gorlay 'cause I can't never meet him again, for he ackshally took me up in his arms when the 'Rover' stopped at the wharf, and well, I was rather sleepy and I didn't see where I was going, but of course I trusted him, and when I opened my eyes why, I was home!
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