A sharp, resonant cry brought him suddenly back to Camp Hard and duty. From the post in front of the camp the sentinel gave the hour. "Number One! Half-past ten o'clock and all's--well!" Then it came to Magnus. Now the guard had been admonished, that very day, not to mumble the words, but to give each its full value, clear and strong. But this first man was sleepy, or lazy, and gave small heed to the order. His "All's well!" was loud enough, but seemed rather a matter of hope than of certainty. I am not sure that Magnus even supposed that he himself was working out the spirit of the order, but he was homesick and disheartened, as well as ignorant of military affairs; and with that a little bit reckless, and ready to do anything for a change. What did it matter, anyhow? And so, as it came to his turn, he shouted forth the call at the top of his voice, and to the closing notes of the retreat bugle call at parade. [Music: Num-ber two: Half-past ten o'-clock, and all is ... well!] And half the camp heard it. Of course there was a stir, and Magnus was reported for "calling the hour in an improper manner." But he went scot-free, after all, by reason, doubtless, of his short acquaintance with guard duty. XII _OFF_ GUARD Are you shining for Jesus loyally, Shining just anywhere; Not only in easy places, Not only just here and there? --F. R. HAVERGAL. In such fashion days and weeks rolled by; as time-wheels will, over the roughest ground, and through the most uninteresting country. For without doubt, drills can become monotonous; and if the body yielded itself more and more easily to regulations, as the time went on, so did not always the mind. At first, in the strangeness of everything, details went for less, but now that he no longer wore the grey bag, to have his toes still kicked out set his blood tingling. He was so well made by nature, that "this extra regulation ramrod style," as he spitefully termed it, seemed like persecution. For some of the drill masters by no means slackened their demands as the need of them grew less. "Get your shoulders back, Mr. Kindred!" "_Get_ them back, sir!" "_Get_ them _back_!" "He had better take a sledge hammer and pound them in," Magnus declared one day. "You'll be pounded for disrespect," Rig warned him. "All right; it's a true bill. I don't respect that man, and I never shall." "But officers, you know," suggested Rig. "Oh, officers!" said Magnus loftily. "What business has he to be an officer, with the manners of a boot-black?" However, as I said, time did wear on; with parades, drills, gymnastics, and the rest of it. And in the intervals, when upper classmen walked with the pretty girls, and went to teas and picnics, the plebs drew together and eyed them from a distance, making many comments, uttering many groans; but, most of all, knitting up firm and strong the class bond which no after-years could break.