"Beg pardon, sir; Dick Smithson made me swear as I'd keep my mouth shut about him, and I give him my word; and, all respeck to you, sir, I'm going to keep it; but I can't contradict what you said, sir, all the same." "Well, it would be confoundedly ungentlemanly of me to be prying into anyone's affairs, Brigley, and I won't ask questions about him. I hope, though, he hasn't done anything so foolish as to desert, because, even if he is in the band, he is a soldier, and--I have heard nothing. Has it been reported?" "Yes, sir; and Mr Wilkins is making a big stir about it. Never had a civil word for him, and used to sneer at his playing; but, now Dick's gone, he's going on as if he couldn't spare him at no price." "How do you know--who told you?" "The bombardon, sir." "The what? Why don't you say the big drum?" "Beg pardon, sir, I meant Sergeant Brumpton, the fa--stout musician, sir, as is practising for the band." "Then they must be sending out notices to the police all over the place. Tut--tut--tut! This is a great pity. I must ask you one thing, Brigley: has there anything happened that would make him likely to go?" Jerry nodded his head over and over again. "I'm sorry--very sorry; but perhaps we are making a stir about nothing, and he'll be back soon." "Yes, sir, perhaps he will." "But you don't expect to see him, eh?" Jerry shook his head--this time violently--and no more was said, for the lieutenant had to finish dressing and go on parade. A couple of hours later the young bandsman's disappearance was the talk of the barracks, and numerous were the reasons assigned for it; while the customary notification was given, to the annoyance of Dick's friends and the gratification of his enemies, these consisting of the men who wished to be on good terms with the bandmaster. But Jerry had his business to attend to; for, though Lieutenant Lacey was annoyed, he had invited friends for that evening, and the orders given had to be attended to. So the man went off into the town and bought the playing-cards, shaking his head as he walked back. "Don't seem much now for a pack of cards," he muttered, "but I'll be bound to say they'll cost the guv'nor a pretty penny. Wonder what he'd say to me if I told him the best thing he could do would be never to make another bet and never to touch a card again. I know--he'd kick me." "Who would?" said someone at his elbow. "Hallo! You! Mr Brumpton? Was I talking aloud?" "Yes, quite aloud." "Then it's a bad habit, sir. I say, has young Smithson come back?" "No; I'm afraid he's gone, Brigley. There always was a bit of mystery about that young fellow. You had no idea that he was going off?" "Not I, or I should have let out at him. I say, they won't call it desertion, will they, Mr Brumpton?" "That's what they do call it; and, the worst of it is, he'll be punished." "Won't the colonel let him off easy as--as he's a musician?"