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That coffee smells the whole camp."
"Bring 'em along, doc. The sick chaps first. By Jove, here's the
sergeant major himself."
"What's all this?" inquired the sergeant major in his gruffest voice.
"Who's responsible for this fire?"
"Coffee, sergeant major?" answered Barry, handing him a tin full.
"But what--?"
"Drink it first, sergeant major."
The sergeant major took the mess tin and tasted the coffee.
"Well, this IS fine," he declared, "and it's what the boys want. But
this fire is against orders, sir. I ought to have it put out."
"You will have it put out over my dead body, sergeant major," cried the
M. O.
"And mine," added Barry.
"By gad, we'll chance the zeps, sir," said the sergeant major. "This
freezin' rain will kill more men than a bomb. Bring in your men, sir,"
he added to the M. O. "But I must see the O. C."
The sergeant major's devotion to military discipline was struggling hard
with his humanity, which, under his rugged exterior, beat warm in his
heart.


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