Retaliate!"
"Verra good, sirr."
The telephone orderly disappears, to return in five minutes.
"Major Cavanagh's compliments, sirr, and he is coming up himself for
tae observe from the firing trench."
"Good egg!" observes Captain Blaikie. "Now we shall see some shooting,
Bobby!"
Presently the Gunner major arrives, accompanied by an orderly, who
pays out wire as he goes. The major adjusts his periscope, while the
orderly thrusts a metal peg into the ground and fits a telephone
receiver to his head.
"Number one gun!" chants the major, peering into his periscope;
"three-five-one-nothing--lyddite--fourth charge!"
These mystic observations are repeated into the telephone by the
Cockney orderly, in a confidential undertone.
"Report when ready!" continues the major.
"Report when ready!" echoes the orderly. Then--"Number one gun ready,
sir!"
"Fire!"
"Fire!" Then, politely--"Number one has fired, sir."
The major stiffens to his periscope, and Bobby Little, deeply
interested, wonders what has become of the report of the gun. He
forgets that sound does not travel much faster than a thousand feet
a second, and that the guns are a mile and a half back. Presently,
however, there is a distant boom. Almost simultaneously the lyddite
shell passes overhead with a scream. Bobby, having no periscope,
cannot see the actual result of the shot, though he tempts Providence
(and Zacchaeus) by peering over the top of the parapet.
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