ld make him likely to go?"

Jerry nodded his head over and over again.

"I'm sorry--very sorry; but perhaps we are making a stir about nothing,
and he'll be back soon."

"Yes, sir, perhaps he will."

"But you don't expect to see him, eh?"

Jerry shook his head--this time violently--and no more was said, for the
lieutenant had to finish dressing and go on parade.

A couple of hours later the young bandsman's disappearance was the talk
of the barracks, and numerous were the reasons assigned for it; while
the customary notification was given, to the annoyance of Dick's friends
and the gratification of his enemies, these consisting of the men who
wished to be on good terms with the bandmaster.

But Jerry had his business to attend to; for, though Lieutenant Lacey
was annoyed, he had invited friends for that evening, and the orders
given had to be attended to. So the man went off into the town and
bought the playing-cards, shaking his head as he walked back. "Don't
seem much now for a pack of cards," he muttered, "but I'll be bound to
say they'll cost the guv'nor a pretty penny. Wonder what he'd say to me
if I told him the best thing he could do would be never to make another
bet and never to touch a card again. I know--he'd kick me."

"Who would?" said someone at his elbow.

"Hallo! You! Mr Brumpton? Was I talking aloud?"

"Yes, quite aloud."

"Then it's a bad habit, sir. I say, has young Smithson come back?"

"No; I'm afraid he's gone, Brigley. There always was a bit of mystery
about that young fellow. You had no idea that he was going off?"

"Not I, or I should have let out at him. I say, they won't call it
desertion, will they, Mr Brumpton?"

"That's what they do call it; and, the worst of it is, he'll be
punished."

"Won't the colonel let him off easy as--as he's a musician?"

"How can they let him off easy? Why, if they did, half the roughs of
the regiment would be off at once."

"Ah! I didn't think of that," said Jerry, sadly. "But s'pose he comes
back of himself?"

"He'll be punished, but not so severely."

"And s'pose he don't come back?"

"Don't suppose any confounded nonsense," said the fat sergeant, wiping
his moist forehead. "I'd have given anything--sooner than it should
have happened. There's that twopenny-fife of a man, Wilkins, squeaking
about it all over the place. Hang him! I should like to punch his
miserable little head, only my hands are so fat they'd feel like