"What's the new system going to be?
Eighteen hours a day ?" "Twenty, perhaps," said Greg's first lieutenant cheerfully.
The meal had been under way for fifteen minutes when Captain Cartwright entered leisurely.
"I suppose you fellows have eaten all the best stuff," he called, as he looked about and found a vacant seat, though he paused as if in no great haste to occupy it.
"Same old Cartwright," observed Greg, in an undertone to Dick.
"He's late, even at mess formation." But Cartwright heard, and wheeled about, looking half-angrily at young Captain Holmes.
"Say, Holmes, you're as free as ever with your tongue." "Yes," Greg answered unconcernedly.

"Using it to taste my food, and I've been finding the taste uncommonly pleasant." "You use your tongue in more ways than that," snapped Captain Cartwright.

"I happened to hear what you said about me in Prescott's room a few minutes ago." "Eavesdropping ?" queried Greg calmly.
"What's that ?" snapped Cartwright, and his flush deepened.

"See here, Holmes, I don't want any trouble with you." "That shows a lively sense of discretion," smiled Greg, turning to face the other.
"But I want you to stop picking on me.

Talk about somebody else for a change!" "With pleasure," nodded Greg, as he shrugged his shoulders and turned to drop a spoonful of sugar in his second cup of coffee.
"There are lots of agreeable subjects for conversation in Camp Berry." "Meaning--- ?" demanded Cartwright, still standing, and scowling, for, out of the corners of his eyes, he saw that several of his brother officers were smiling.
"Meaning almost anything that you wish," continued Captain Holmes, serenely, as he stirred his coffee.
"Sit down, Cartwright," urged a low voice.