“Not they,” said Bob. “This promising young officer, who had taken it into his head that he had been wounded by a poisoned kris, was buried under a palm tree, to the great relief of all who knew him, for they found him the most conceited—”

“Bob Roberts!”

“Consequential—”

“I tell you what it is—”

“Cocky—”

“I never heard—”

“Unpleasant fellow that ever wore Her Majesty’s uniform.”

“Just wait till I get well, Master Bob Roberts,” said Tom Long, excitedly, “and if I don’t make you pay for all this, my name’s not what it is.”

“Thought you had made up your mind to die,” said Bob, laughing. “There, it won’t do, young man; so now go to sleep. I’ve got another half-hour. . . Read More