Promotion for bringing in a prisoner! What in thunder--" He stopped for a moment in one of the cleared paths.

From the big low roofed drill enclosure a hundred yards away came the dull thud of galloping hoofs and the voice of Sergeant Moody thundering instructions to the rookies.

Moody had a heart like flint and would have faced blazing cannon to perform his duty.

He had grown old and ugly in the service and was as beauty-proof as an ogre of stone.

Why hadn't MacGregor sent him?
Beauty-proof! The words sent a swift rush of thought, of regret, of the old homesickness and longing through Philip as he returned to his quarters.