"That was Strang"s doing. The good chap sent a wireless asking them to look out for us."
"Jove, that was smart of him," Ken said smilingly. "But Roy, dad? Is Roy all right?"
"Quite right. He has rejoined his regiment."
Ken"s face fell.
"What about me, dad? Don"t say I shan"t be able to do the same."
"There is no need to say anything of the sort, my boy," replied his father quickly. "The only trouble with you is that you lost more blood than was good for you. The splinter cut a small artery. I have no doubt whatever that you will be able to rejoin in a month or so."
"A month! It may be all over by then."
"It won"t," said the other gravely. "It will take more than a month to open the Dardanelles. You"ll get your fill of fighting before this business is over. Those who know best say that it will take three months at least to beat the Turks."
"That"s all right," said Ken, with reckless disregard for the hopes of the British Empire. "I want a chance of doing my bit in the trenches alongside Dave and Roy."
For a moment or two Captain Carrington watched his son in silence.
"You"ll be doing your bit under rather different conditions in future," he said quietly.
Ken stared. "What do you mean, dad?"
For answer his father picked up the khaki tunic which hung over the end of the bed, and showed Ken the sleeve.
On it was the star indicating the rank of Second-Lieutenant in His Majesty"s Army.