Half an hour later, Kennedy, who had been ruminating over the incident
in his usual painstaking way, reopened the debate.

"Who's Wren?" he asked.

"Wha'?" murmured Silver, sleepily.

"Who's Wren?" repeated Kennedy.

"I d'know.... Oh.... Li'l' beast.... Kay's.... Red hair.... G'-ni'."

And sleep reigned in Blackburn's tent.




VI

THE RAID ON THE GUARD-TENT


Wren and Billy Silver had fallen out over a question of space. It was
Silver's opinion that Wren's nest ought to have been built a foot or
two further to the left. He stated baldly that he had not room to
breathe, and requested the red-headed one to ease off a point or so in
the direction of his next-door neighbour. Wren had refused, and, after
a few moments' chatty conversation, smote William earnestly in the
wind. Trouble had begun upon the instant. It had ceased almost as
rapidly owing to interruptions from without, but the truce had been