"
* * * * *
Armitage rose, dropped the paper into the fire, and, with his elbow
resting on the mantel-shelf, watched it burn. He laughed suddenly and
faced about, his back to the flames. Oscar stood at attention in the
middle of the room.
"Shall we unpack--yes?"
"It is a capital idea," said John Armitage.
"I was striker for my captain also, who had fourteen pairs of boots and a
bad disposition--and his uniforms--yes? He was very pretty to look at on
a horse."
"The ideal is high, Oscar, but I shall do my best. That one first,
please."
The contents of the two trunks were disposed of deftly by Oscar as
Armitage directed. One of the bedrooms was utilized as a closet, and
garments for every imaginable occasion were brought forth. There were
stout English tweeds for the heaviest weather, two dress suits, and
Norfolk jackets in corduroy. The owner's taste ran to grays and browns,
it seemed, and he whimsically ordered his raiment grouped by colors as he
lounged about with a pipe in his mouth.
"You may hang those scarfs on the string provided by my predecessor,
Sergeant.
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