The barracks was furnished with rows of army cots, and the boys
dropped their packs at the heads of those assigned to them. Then
began the task of unpacking, and by the time that was completed it
was almost time for mess.
"It's lucky we got our mess kits out before mess call blew,"
commented Tom. "It would be an awful thing to get caught without
them around meal time."
"Not much danger of that," said Billy, with a mischievous twinkle
in his eye. "We've been in the army quite some time now, Tom, and
yet I can't call to mind a single time when you weren't Johnny on
the spot when the bugle blew for eats."
"Say, don't you two fellows go to starting an argument along those
lines," interrupted Bart. "When it comes to being chow hounds, I
think we're all tarred with the same brush. None of us has ever
got a call from the mess sergeant for not being on time."
"Well, perhaps you're right," admitted Tom laughingly. "And when
you get right down to it, the whole of this man's army seems to be
about the same way, so that leaves nothing for us to argue about."
Mess kits in hand, they all trooped down to the kitchen and took
their places on the line that already was of sizable length.
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