‘You clumsy beast!’ cried Napper savagely, ‘I tell you every night to mind my corn.’ With these words he kicked out his foot savagely, the spur catching Callon on the chin, which it badly pricked, and the heel striking him on the mouth and cutting his lips. Callon uttered a cry and reeled backwards, on which one or two of the trumpeters who had seen what had happened cried ‘Shame!’ and ‘Coward!’ ‘Here, draw it mild, Napper,’ said one of the older trumpeters, named Brittain; ‘you don’t want to kick a fellow’s teeth down his throat.’ ‘The little ass should mind what he’s doing then,’ muttered Napper rather shamefacedly, and he proceeded to pull off the boot himself and then to get into bed. There were some angry mutterings from the boys till Napper cried out sharply, ‘Shut up!’ Callon, who slept in the next bed to Jack, undressed and got in, and Jack fancied, after lights were out, he once or twice heard a sound like a stifled sob come from the bed. He ground his teeth with rage at the sound, and he made a stern resolve. Napper should be stopped, either one way or another, and Jack crept quietly out of bed, and on bended knees prayed for strength and guidance when the decisive moment should arrive. CHAPTER VII. SERGEANT LINHAM INSTRUCTS. The next morning Jack was aroused early by the trumpeters turning out to sound reveille. He immediately got up, folded his sheets and blankets, and rolled and strapped up his bed as shown by Hodson. He then assisted Brown in sweeping and cleaning up generally, getting the plates and basins ready for breakfast, and when the trumpet sounded mess in going and drawing the rations. At breakfast-time Napper said nothing, but he looked exceedingly disagreeable, as though his previous evening’s amusement had not agreed with him. Jack noticed that Callon’s mouth was swollen and discoloured, while there was a long, jagged scratch on his chin. The meal over, Sergeant Linham suddenly appeared, well shaven and faultlessly dressed, as he always was. ‘Ha, hum!’ he snorted--he had a way of blowing down his nose--‘Trumpeter Blair will parade at eight-thirty A.M. for recruits’ extension drill.’ And he proceeded to detail other orders for the trumpeters. Hodson took Jack in hand, who polished up his old, well-worn boots, brushed his clothes and cap, and then proceeded to the parade-ground, where he fell in on the extreme left of some four or five recruits who had just joined. Under the instruction of a corporal he was soon busily engaged in extension motions, and after an hour of that there was not one muscle in his body which did not ache. Still, his blood seemed to circulate more briskly, and he felt an unwonted lightness and elasticity. The extension-drill over, Jack was just in time to get his instruments and go off with the other trumpeters to the band-room for practice. The trumpeters fell in in line, Sergeant Linham taking the practice.