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 By this time the three brothers were helpless with laughter. The combat ceased, and they sat upon the floor to survey the damage.

"You can't handle the old man yet, boys," said the colonel. His left eye was closed, and his new uniform looked like the ribbons hung on a May-pole.

Hamilton was bleeding at the nose. Hannibal's lip was split. The three looked at each other and shook with laughter.

"I'm inclined to think we've had a healthy bringing-up," said Hamilton between gasps.

"Better move, colonel," said Hannibal; "you're sitting in a pool of ink."

"So I am," said the colonel, as the cold struck through his new trousers.

The laughter broke out afresh.

Beau Larch, in the uniform of a private, appeared at the door.

"Hallo, Beau!"

"Come in."

"Take a hand?"