On his way back to his billet he encountered Private Anderson looking smarter than he had ever been known before. Ginger's boots shone brightly, despite the "dubbin" under the polish. His buttons, a few hours previously dull and tarnished by the clammy air of the trenches and the chemical effect of the bursting shells, now glittered resplendent in the sunshine. His reddish moustache had been brushed and coaxed into a certain state of subservience, although subduing the stubbly bristles had taken the private almost an hour of hard work. His cap was tilted on the back of his head revealing a well-oiled and studiously arranged "quiff" of fiery-tinted hair. "Wot cheer, mate!" exclaimed George. "Where 'ave you been?" "Orderly-room," replied Ralph. "Blimey, that's where I'm off to," rejoined Anderson. "Your pal the hacter bloke is warned too. It's abart that bloomin' Tank business. Ain't this yere child correct?" "It is," assented Setley. "I knowed it," declared Ginger with conviction. "Wot did yer get?" "The colonel complimented me," replied Ralph tactfully. "That all? Blow me tight! I was reckonin' on 'aving seven days' special leave an' a free ticket to Blighty an' back." Ginger walked away, his step a little less jaunty than before. At tea-time the three comrades met. Ginger was radiant. "The old man 'e told me I was a bloomin' corporal, and that I was to 'ave the bloomin' D.C.M.," he reported. "'Any chance of getting back to Blighty on leave just ter show me medal off, sir?' I asked; an' blow me if 'e didn't get the orderly-room sergeant to make me a pass straight away. I'm off to-night, an' chance me arm over them U-boats. 'E's a toff is the colonel." "And he thought fit to bestow a sergeant's chevrons on your humble," announced Alderhame. "The distinction of the D.C.M. is also thrown in as a makeweight." "Congratulations, both of you," said Ralph heartily. "Thanks; and what did you get?" asked Alderhame pointedly. "'E swears 'e only got complimented," interjected Ginger. "All my bloomin eye, eh, wot?" Alderhame winked solemnly. "Give every man thine ear, but few thy voice," he quoted. "I can guess--you lucky young dog!" CHAPTER XII "THE BEST OF LUCK" A WEEK later Ralph Setley was given his commission and appointed to the Tank Service. He shrewdly suspected that the colonel of the Wheatshires had put in a strong recommendation on his behalf, and in this surmise he was not mistaken. With the commission ten days' leave was granted to enable the newly fledged subaltern to obtain his kit, and in high spirits Ralph set out for England.