about in the streets in armour now, 'cause these times is different.
She said so. Anyway she said we could still be knights an' help
people, di'n't she? Anyway, I'll get my bugle. That'll be
_something_."

William's bugle had just returned to public life after one of its
periodic terms of retirement into his father's keeping.

William took his bugle proudly in one hand and his pistol (the
glorious result of a dip in the bran tub at a school party) in the
other, and, sternly denying themselves the pleasures of afternoon
school, off the two set upon the road of romance and adventure.

"I'll carry the bugle," said Ginger, "'cause I'm squire."

William was loth to give up his treasure.

"Well, I'll carry it now," he said, "but when I begin' fightin' folks,
I'll give it you to hold."

They walked along for about a mile without meeting anyone. William
began to be aware of a sinking feeling in the region of his waist.

"I wonder wot they _eat_," he said at last. "I'm gettin' so's I
wouldn't mind sumthin' to eat."

"We di'n't ought to have set off before dinner," said the squire with
after-the-event wisdom. "We ought to have waited till _after_ dinner."

"You ought to have _brought_ sumthin'," said William severely. "You're