"That’s true," said Randall. "I’ve applied. But----" "Hold on, sir. There you are! Just what I thought. Well, I ain’t got no personal objection to having a smack at the Germans; never seen a German yet but what I’d give him one on the boko, and if Lord Kitchener’d make me a lootenant or a capting in the Coldstream Guards, with a sword and eppylets and ten bob a day--well, I don’t say I wouldn’t consider it." ("Bravo, Ginger!") "But as it is, to be a private on one bob a day, and dock threepence or more, they tell me, for the missus and kids--I’m not having any." When the cheers that hailed his assertion had fallen away, Kenneth said quietly: "You forget that thousands of men have thrown up good jobs and sacrificed big incomes to join the ranks." "Not in these parts, governor. Down here they give their subscriptions to this, that, and the other, and reduce their men’s wages, if they don’t sack ’em. And if it comes to that, what have _you_ done?" A breathless silence settled upon the crowd. All eyes were fixed on the young governor’s friend, awaiting his reply to this poser. Kenneth had an inspiration. "It doesn’t matter what I’ve done," he said, quietly, but in a tone that carried his words to the corners of the yard. "But I’ll tell you what I’ll do, and if I know my friend Mr. Randall, he’ll do the same. If you men will enlist, we’ll enlist with you, and share and share alike." The man was taken aback. He looked from Kenneth to Randall: his mates watched him curiously. "One for you, Ginger!" cried the irrepressible boy. "D’you mean that, sir?" asked the man. "Certainly," said Kenneth. "It’s a firm offer, Ginger," added Randall. "Privates--no kid?" "A bob a day," said Kenneth. For a half-minute or so Ginger had the air of one who is caught out. He looked round among his mates, grinning awkwardly, avoiding their eyes. They were silent, watching him. All at once he burst into a guffaw, wiped his mouth, and with frank good-humour cried: "Well, hanged if you ain’t good sports. Come on, mates. Who’s for Kitchener’s army and a smack at the Germans? I’m number one." The crowd was captured by the sporting spirit. Striking while the iron was hot, Randall and Kenneth headed a procession to the recruiting office. Mr. Randall, called to his window by the tramp of many feet and the strains of "It’s a long long way to Tipperary," was amazed to see hundreds of his young workmen marching with linked arms behind the two young fellows. He rang for Griggs. "What does this mean, Griggs?" he asked. "Gone to enlist, sir. We shall be very short-handed." CHAPTER III STONEWAY ENLISTS Mr. Randall pulled a wry face when he heard of Kenneth’s impulsive action. At the dinner-table he spoke his mind.