"Or police a camp?"
"Surely you don't think I was ever a police man?"
"Don't you remember what policing a camp is?" asked George Granbury.
"Upon my honor, I do not."
"It means to clean up the streets, burn up the rubbish, and all that."
"Thank you, but I do not—ah—care to become a street cleaner," returned Tubbs, with great dignity.
"Sorry, but I'm afraid you are not cut out for a corporalship," came from Tom.
"I didn't say a corporalship, Tom, I said"
"Excuse me, I meant a sergeantship."
"No, I said"
"Make it a second lieutenantship, then, Tubby. Anything to be friends, you know."
"I said"
"Oh, bother, if you want to be a major-general, go ahead. Nobody will stop you."
"Hurrah, Major-General Tubbs!" cried Sam. "That sounds well, doesn't it, fellows?"
"We'll have to present him with a tin-plated sword," came from one of the crowd.
"And a pair of yellow worsted epaulets," added another.
And then Songbird Powell began to sing softly:
