"It is like this. I am Corporal of the Guard." James looked impressed. "Corporal of the Guard," I repeated; "a responsible position. Practically the whole safety of the camp depends upon me. In the interests of that safety I found it necessary to give some orders just now. The reply I received was, 'Go and boil your head.' What ought I to do?" James was thoughtful for a little. "It depends," he said at last. "How depends?" I asked indignantly. "He told me to go and boil my----" "Exactly. So that it depends on who told you. If it was the Sergeant of the Guard whom you accidentally addressed----" "Help!" I murmured, struck by a horrible fear. "In that case," went on James, "it would be your duty to obey orders. Obtaining a large saucepan of fresh water, you would heat it to, approximately, 212 degrees Fahrenheit, at which point bubbles would begin to appear upon the surface of the pan. Then, immersing the head until the countenance assumed a ripe beetroot colour, you would return it to the Sergeant of the Guard, salute, and ask him if he had any further instructions to give you ... No," added James, "I think I am wrong there. It would not be necessary for you to salute. Only commissioned officers are saluted in the British Army." I had been thinking furiously while James was speaking. "It _wasn't_ the sergeant," I said eagerly. "I'm sure it wasn't. I noticed him particularly when we were forming up. No, James, it was an ordinary private." "In that case the position is more complicated. On the whole I think it would be your duty to convene a court-martial and have the fellow shot." I looked at my watch. "How long does it take to convene a court martial?" I asked. "I've never convened one before." "What matter the time!" said James grandly. "The mills may grind slowly, but they grind exceeding small." "Quite so. But in about an hour and a quarter the guard is changed; and if, as is probable, the man who insulted me is then on guard himself, _he_ will have the rifle. And if he has the rifle, I don't quite see how we are going to shoot him." "You mean he mightn't give it up?" "Yes. It would be rank insubordination, I admit, but in the circumstances one would not be surprised at his attitude." "That is a good point," said James. "It had escaped me." He was silent again. "There's another thing, too, I was forgetting," he added. "If he were shot, his wife might possibly object and make a fuss. The affair would very likely get into the papers--you know what the Press is. It might give the Corps a bad name." We were both silent for a little. "Suppose," I said, "the death penalty were not enforced, and he were merely given three days in cells?" "But he has to get back to his work on Monday."