Ted Baldwin, who sprawled now in the seat of honour beside the Bodymaster, had been chief of the party.

His flushed face and glazed, bloodshot eyes told of sleeplessness and drink.

He and his two comrades had spent the night before among the mountains.

They were unkempt and weather-stained.

But no heroes, returning from a forlorn hope, could have had a warmer welcome from their comrades.
The story was told and retold amid cries of delight and shouts of laughter.