"When it's not a ghastly sweat," he concluded, "it's slow. Like it is
now. Can't we do something for a change?"
"As a matter of fact," said Walton, "nearly all the best rags are
played out. A chap at a crammer's told me last holidays that when he
was at camp he and some other fellows loosed the ropes of the
guard-tent. He said it was grand sport."
Perry sat up.
"That's the thing," he said, excitedly. "Let's do that. Why not?"
"It's beastly risky," objected Walton.
"What's that matter? They can't do anything, even if they spot us."
"That's all you know. We should get beans."
"Still, it's worth risking. It would be the biggest rag going. Did the
chap tell you how they did it?"
"Yes," said Walton, becoming animated as he recalled the stirring
tale, "they bagged the sentry. Chucked a cloth or something over his
head, you know. Then they shoved him into the ditch, and one of them
sat on him while the others loosed the ropes. It took the chaps inside
no end of a time getting out."
"That's the thing. We'll do it. We only need one other chap. Leveson
would come if we asked him. Let's get back to the lines. It's almost
tea-time. Tell him after tea."
Leveson proved agreeable. Indeed, he jumped at it. His life, his
attitude suggested, had been a hollow mockery until he heard the plan,
but now he could begin to enjoy himself once more.
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