to decide who should have the reversion of the storeman's leave, it
would be better to go and see if there really was a vacancy. Fifteen
boxes of melinite delayed him but a moment. With melinite you know
the worst at once; it doesn't hang round like boxes of ammunition,
for instance. He called a clerk and together they raced over to the
storeman's dug-out.

"Jock!" cried the clerk. "Are ye there, Jock?"

"Is he quite dead?" said the B.M., making up his mind to use his leave
warrant for himself.

"No, Sir, he's very deaf, that's why he's a storeman. Jo-ock!!"

"Hello!" came from the ground.

"Are ye all right, Jock?"

"Na. There's an awfu' to-do here."

"What's wrong then?"

"Ma candle keeps going oot."

"Are ye all right, though, Jock?"

"Na."

"Well, what's up with ye?"