Jack made no reply, for he saw at once that Napper was a bully, misusing the little authority he had, and that the majority of the trumpeters found it paid them to toady a little to one much older and stronger than themselves. On his part Jack determined to feel his feet before he tackled Bandsman Napper, for he felt assured before long they would come to grips. Seeing Jack stood without speaking, Napper said, ‘You’ll help Brown to wash up and tidy the room. You’ve got to work here, and the sooner you begin the better.’ Jack helped to wash up the plates, knives, and forks, the hot water being got from the cook-house. Then the table was washed down and the floor swept. By that time all the trumpeters, except one who was cleaning up his kit for guard the next day, had gone off to practice. Jack looked across at him, and saw he was busy burnishing a pair of spurs. This trumpeter, whose name was Parkes, was a stolid-looking lad, who took no notice of Jack till the latter went up to him and in a cheery voice said, ‘I say, can I help you?’ Parkes looked up from his work. ‘No good trying to borrow off me, chummy. I’m broke,’ he said. ‘I don’t want to borrow anything. Sooner or later I’ve got to learn to do what you’re doing. I hate doing nothing. Show me how, and I’ll help you.’ ‘Now you’re talking!’ said Parkes. ‘You’re the man I want to meet every time I’m for guard. Can you black boots?’ ‘Yes.’ ‘Clean them, then,’ and he pointed to his Wellingtons. ‘You’ll find the blacking and brushes in my valise.’ Jack set to work, whistling gaily, and soon produced a polish that made Parkes smile. ‘Old Jimmy’ll reckon I’ve turned over a new leaf,’ he said. He showed Jack how to polish the plate on the front of his lance-cap, and the chin-chain, and when he had done this Jack could not resist the temptation of putting the cap on and surveying himself in the bit of looking-glass, four inches square, fastened on the wall at the head of Parkes’ bed. ‘Feel big, eh?’ queried the trumpeter. ‘Not very,’ said Jack; ‘but it’s a handsome headdress.’ ‘Wait till you’ve worn one six hours at a stretch on a broiling-hot day, then tell me how you like it,’ grinned Parkes. The whole of his accoutrements being cleaned, that youth jerked out a brief ‘Thanks!’ then put down his bed, and throwing himself on it composed himself for a nap. Before he sank quite into the land of dreams he suddenly started up and said, ‘Didn’t I hear your name was Blair?’ ‘You did,’ replied Jack. ‘Right. You ain’t a bad sort; I’ll give you a tip. Don’t you make an enemy of Snapper.’ ‘Napper, do you mean?’ ‘Same man. Name’s Sam Napper; S. Napper--see? We call him Snapper; you can guess why. Give him a wide berth, and don’t try hitting back at him unless you’re sure of getting your blow in, else, as sure as I’m Billy Parkes, you’ll curse the day you ever made the Queen’s bad bargain.’