Page:Harris Dickson--Old Reliable in Africa.djvu/99

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THE YELLOW FLAG
85

and ducked. Fright got in his legs—his knees wabbled backwards and forwards, outwards and inwards; but he succeeded in dodging past the Colonel, without breaking into a run. Having tumbled down the main staircase, he doubled a corner, and there was nothing to hold him until he reached the open space amidships. He tried to saunter carelessly across the lower deck; at the hatchway he dropped out of sight, like a bucket into a well.

The sergeant went on counting and shoving, and swearing and waiting. His barges filled with an indiscriminate mass. "One fifteen," he counted; "should be one nineteen."

"One sixteen," corrected Guinea Ryan; "check me off, Danny; but I won't take your barge to-day." Guinea smiled and produced his health certificate.

"Hello, Guinea," laughed the Sergeant Danny; "couldn't stay out of Egypt? Haven't been gone a week. Get along into the barge; all third-class health certificates canceled."

"What's the bloody row?" Guinea demanded.

"Orders changed; cholera everywhere. Promenade along, down the steps, you know the way."

Guinea had seen too much of the Far East to argue with a British sergeant about his orders. "Hard luck, Guinea," laughed Danny; "now we've got to smoke out the hide-aways—only