giment."

The sergeant made a grab at Dick's hand.

"What is it? What is it?" he panted.

"Learn the bombardon!"

The sergeant loosened his grasp, and sank back again.

"You're laughing at me," he said, reproachfully; "and it comes hard from
you, Dick Smithson."

"I'm not laughing at you, sergeant," cried Dick, earnestly. "Look here!
it's a thing I have often noticed; but I never thought of applying it to
you. Who are the two thinnest men in the band?"

"Those two young chaps who play the trombones."

"Exactly, and nearly all the fellows are thin. You learn to play the
bombardon, and I'll be bound to say that it will pull you down."

"Think so?" said the sergeant, with a sigh.

"I feel sure!"

"But how can I?"

"Oh, you could manage that. Tell Mr Wilkins you've taken a fancy to
learn the instrument. I'll help you."

The sergeant looked doubtful.

"Then, if it doesn't get your fat down, you could come in the band.
You'd look splendid, marching along with that great brass instrument!"

"Not chaffing me, are you?" said the sergeant, suspiciously.

"Chaffing? No, man. There, I'll speak out frankly to show you how
sincere I am. It does look absurd to see you puffing and panting along
at the double with your company. Don't be offended."

"No, my lad--no. It does look very stupid. Nobody knows it better than
I do."

"But, marching with the band, your size would not be noticed, especially
as you would be carrying that great brass bass instrument with its huge
bell-mouth."

"Well, do you know, I'm beginning to like that idea, Smithson. But I'm
not very clever over music. Big drum seems more in my way."

"Oh, no. You could soon get on with a bass instrument. Have you ever
learnt anything?"

"Tin whistle, when I was a boy."

"Oh, that would not help you much. You say you'll try, and I'll help
you."

"Try," cried the sergeant. "I'd try bugling;" and he soon after left
the room with the understanding that, Mr Wilkins being willing, he was
to begin his practice the very next day.

CHAPTER TWENTY TWO.

DICK SMITHSON SEES A GHOST.

A bright, brisk, early spring morning, with bugles sounding, the tramp
of feet, an occasional hoarse shout, and, out in the sunshine, gleams of
light flashing in all directions from well-burnished brass ornament or
rifle-stock; while the generally dismal-looking barrack yard was gay as
a garden-bed newly planted with scarlet geraniums in full bloom.