'They came for you last night,' said Bob Shaftoe. 'I had them clapped into separate cells while I decided what to do with 'em. Talked to 'em separately, and all they gave me was a deal of hot talk. Now. Some men are entitled to talk that way, they have been ennobled, in a sense, by their deeds and the things they have lived through. I did not think that Bob Carver and Dick Gripp were men of that kind. Others may be suffered to talk that way simply because they entertain the rest of us. I once had a brother who was like that. But not Bob and Dick. Unfortunately I am not a magistrate and have no power to throw men in prison, compel them to answer questions, et cetera. On the other hand, I am a sergeant, and have the power to recruit men into the King's service. As Bob and Dick were clearly idle fellows, I recruited them into the King's Own Black Torrent Guards on the spot. In the next instant, I perceived that I'd made a mistake, for these two were discipline problems, and wanted chastisement. Using the oldest trick in the book, I had Dick – who struck me as the better man – whipped directly in front of Bob Carver's cell window. Now Dick is a strong bloke, he is unbowed, and I may keep him in the regiment. But Bob feels about his chastisement – which is scheduled for dawn – the same way you feel about being cut for the stone. So an hour ago he woke up his guards, and they woke me, and I went and had a chat with Mr. Carver.'