THE LAST ORDER.

Golden Bay Argus, Volume XIII, Issue 1, 2 June 1910, Page 2

THE LAST ORDER.

,By JOHN DOUGALL R'EID.f

One rule among the many regulating Thomas Atkins, Esq.,—and it is cne admitting of no exception whatever—is that in any given difficulty arising from conflicting orders, he must obey the one last given. If a general of division tells him to do something, and a Lance Jack, ten minutes afterwards, tells him to do the very opposite, then the very opposite it is, if he would keep clear of trouble. True, the general and the lance are likely to get on shouting terms about it, but that need not affect Thomas. He can stand afar oil and marvel that men of flight and leading should use such ilanguage, blimy. And thereby, as |the poet hath it, hangs a tale. It began over an overlooked rajtion indent that had somehow failled to find its accustomed place among I those sent up to headquarters ; and in its absence one of the detachjment companies—o., it was —was cerJtain to be beeiiess on the morrow, jthe orderly room corporal despatch'ed the first man he got hands on '■with the missing form. ; “You’ll have t 0 hurry, or there’ll 'be a row,” he said, and with a nod the improvised orderly, who happened to be at once one of the stupid • sst and pluckiest men in the battalion, started off. “Hi, there, Hinch ! where on earth ve you going ? That isn’t the way to headquarters.” i “Know that,” said Hinch, stoppingt and shouting back. “Going for my 1 sidearms.’’

, "You won’t want them for all the distance. It’s only four miles, and you are not likely to meet anybody. Hurry up.” j Accepting this, —which, by the way was the second mistake of the morn ing—Hinch turned his stolid face headquarterward. But in grudging the time needed to obtain the side arms, the row-apprehending corporal had made it emphatically a case of “more hurry, less speed.” \" aring belt and bayonet, and so proclaimed an orderly, Hinch would have been safe, but as it was, at the mercy of any wandering authority on the look out for ready-made servants. Nor had he long to wait for the first of them, for,, turning a corner among some bushes, he fell foul of The Crab. The gentleman .thus disrespectfully designated was an officer in his own regiment, a captain named Griswold. He was mostly made up of legs and irritability, and was an exceptionally good man to avoid arguing with. “Hey, you there.” You thero stopped and saluted, “Where y* going V” “Headquarters, sir.” 4 “Head—. - Well, that can w tern Take this note up to my bungalowknow it ?” “Yes, sir ; but ’’ '•'Give it to Mrs. Grimswold, and ask her to attend to it. at once. Understand ?”

"Yes, sit ; but ” "Silence, sir. You ought to know better than argue with your superiors. Now —go —and not another word." There was no help for it, and Hj*bh set out at once. But as he went, the reflection that this unexpected trip was likely to take twice the time enabling him to have received his sidearms, set him grinning i little. Few natures can resist the charm of "I told you so." He had gone quite two miles, and the Griswold bungalow was well in Eight, when a megaphone of a voice was heat'd, ordering to halt. In some bewilderment he stared about him, and presently discovered that the shouted was a man with a furiously red face, glowering over a near-by hedge. There was no sign of a uniform that Hinch could see, and this, with the other’s peremptory tone, nettled him a little. ■ife 1 What d’ye want ?" he asked, roughly. " What do I—. You infernal scoundrel, how dare you talk to me like that ? Don’t you know that this road is private ?’’ "Well, an’ ain’t I private, too?" juoth Hinch, rising to the occasion. •"Don’t bandy words with me, sir, or I’ll make you sorry for it," came the bellowing retort. "You take yourself back by the way you came, and don't let me catch you here again, d’ye hear ?’’ By this time Hinch had concluded that he was deal ng with a civilian crank —of which class, by the way, .India has rather more than its share —and his only answer was to irwing round and resume his advance towards the Griswold bungalow again. This calm defiance drew from the hedge-glowerer a positive roar.

"Halt, you inf Halt !" "See you hung first." The face disappeared ; on the other Bide of the hedge was heard the pound as of an elephant running, and then through a gate a little way ahead there burst into the road a stout, hatless man in a brown linen suit and blazing red silk Gash. With a rush this apparition came at. the unsuspecting Hinch, and landed him sucli a oner on the jaw as to send him flat on his back on the road. " See me hung first, will you ?’’ queried he of the red sash, dancing excitedly behind a pair of rapidly revolving fists. "See me hung first, hey ?”'

As it happened, it was; though not at all in the way he meant. Sam Hinch was about the last man on earth to take hard blows without return, and no sooner had lie got over the surprise of the thing than he was on his feet, had tossed his , helmet into the hedge, and was advancing on his antagonist with the balanced step and wary eye of the trained boxer. It was a lovely little mill that enBued, and the generous way in which

tne pair served out damages to each other showed that meanness or parsimony was quite foreign to their natures. But at length a terrific hit under the jaw from Hinch ended it by sending him of tb® red sash to earth with, so far m movement went, no Immediate intention of rising. -

“Name o’ daylight ! What’s this? D’ye want to get hung, or what ?” The speaker was an artillery picket corporal. He was breathless with running, and behind him were two privates, in much the same state. Hinch, who had been eyeing his prostrate foe, at once gave an account of what had happened. The story seemed to add not a little to the corporal’s already sufficient irritation, for he swore once or twice in a meaningless way, and then sent one of his two men to hurry the approach of half a dozen native servants, who had suddenly appeared from behind the hedge. These carried their fallen but by now reviving master to his bungalow, and as they did so the corporal turned savagely on Hinch.

“Why aren’t you wearing sidearms, seein’ you’re an actin’ orderly,” he demanded. “Was told by the corporal to go without them.”

“'Yes , to your headquarters, but not up here.”

“No, but Captain Griswold sent me up here. Last order, you know. •" Captain Griswold couldn’t send you up here. This is a private road; the public one runs t’other side of that hill.”

“‘Then if it’s private, why isn’t it fenced or gated ?”

“The gate hasn't been put up yet, and—hang it all—we three seat here to keep folk out I” Hinch understood then why the three men looked so perturbed. They had kept together, instead of dividing the road, sentry fashion, as they should have done, and the recent unpleasantness had been the result. Nevertheless the orderly was puzzled somewhat by the depth of their concern. "He must be a big bug, that civi,” he said with a touch of sarcasm . The three men stared at him. “Civi !“ ejaculated the corporal, at length. “That’s no civi ; that’s the district, commander, Major-General Clint.” “Good Lord !’’ said Hinch —and he sat down on the road. For a moment the vision of an early breakfast and a firing party rose before him, turning him sick. Then the recollection that, he had been on duty, and that in attacking him the general had also put his foot in It badly, came to his aid, and his naLiral courage did the rest. “Awell, if I’m in it, so is bean' it was more his fault than mina, blimy,’’ he said. ,

“1 think,” said the corporal, who had also recovered his wits, •“ that the best thing you can do is to hook it out of this, and chance the rest. I’ll try to square the native servants -and, besides, he may not remember anything about it.”

"Not remember !’’ " you know ? He’s been off his head for a week ; sunstroke and fever. He was just about getting right again when you— But yonder’s the doctor coming ! Hook it, and don’t come back this way.”

Hindi wasted no more time, but with a glance at the approaching buggy, went up the road as if he had wings, his mind filled with a chaos of sidearms, Crab, various court-martials, and C Company’s bei i.

If he had thought to make the delivery of the captain’s letter an easy job, he was in error, for Mrs. Griswold, an acidulated lady with a very long nose, eyed him severely as he came up the verandah steps. "You’ve been lighting," quoth she. " Yes, mum,” replied Hinch, promptly. He did not feel equal to denying the thing, with the marks of the general's iron fists all over his face.

How dare you come here in that state ? You are a disgrace to the regiment.’’ "Yes, mum," said the obliging Hinch. If cordial agreement would expedite business, why, then he would see that it was forthcoming.

"The captain told me to ask you to attend to it at once,” said Hinch, as she finished reading the letter.

"I shall do so—but I’ll attend to you first," she said, meaningly. For a moment the rejoicing soul of Hinch had visions of the khitmutgar coming with iced drinks, but when he saw her scribbling in a notebook, he returned to dust and thirst again. "You will give that to Captain Griswold," she said, tearing out the leaf and folding it up. "It may teach you what it costs to approach a lady in such a state.’’ "Can’t take it, mum ; on duty." "‘Explain yourself."

"Well, it was on duty as orderly when I met the captain, an’ was going to headquarters. 'Course I had to obey his order to come here, but now as that’s done the first order comes in again." "It does not. The last >rder still holds—and that is the order 1 give you now."

"Horry, mum, but you can't give orders, an’ 1 couldn't take them if you did. I’m a soldier, not a house servant.”

With which he wheeled and left her to wrestle with tfie question of how it came that while she could boss the men’s boss she was unable to boss the men themselves. It was a thing unheard of. outrageous, monstrous.

When at length the persevering—and eke perspiring—Hinch reached the headquarters Corn Store,, he found a fat sergeant, loaded up with abuse, waiting for him. Ilis attempts to explain only made matters worse, and when he was finally told to "set out o’ that or he made

a prisoner,' ’ Be got out o’ that wim- | out delay. “I’m about fed up with last orders, blimy,” quoth he as he look!ed about for a drink. “ Nothing but ructions all the mornin’—and another ahead as soon’s that corporal sees me ! Think I’ll take the river road back, it’s cooler.” He took the river road, and all his life afterwards' he was thankful for having done so. For as he was plodding along at less than a mile’s distance from the station, the hot afternoon hush was disturbed by far off, but rapidly approaching shouts, and looking ahead, Hinch saw a stout highly clad man running like the wind. He was heading straight for the river, and a long way behind him panted a cluster of soldiers and natives. It was the general, and he looked to have , gone stark mad. How Hinch got over the intervening ground he never knew, but the thought of the grand old war-dog, with whom he had been fighting only an hour before, ending up among the muggars in the river seemed to give him wings. Yet it was a near thing, for when he closed with the I madman the latter was barely five feet from the top of the bank, and 1 but for the opportune arrival of the artillery picket, together with the doctor, and some A.H.C. men, the waiting muggars would nave got them both, so steadily was their fierce fighting taking them towards the water. “Remember it ?” said Hinch, afterwards. “Of course, he remembered it. He sent for me soon’s he was fairly well again, and gave me ten rupees an’ shook hands. Said it did him good to meet a man as could stand up to him.”—“Weekly Telegraph.”