"Why didn't you give him a bit more?" asked Brock.
"Because I know Clancy," said Riley, whispering. "If we had said more
now, he might have suspected a plant. As it is, he's got enough to
tickle his curiosity, and you can be sure it won't be long before a
gentle pumping performance is in operation."
Sergeant Clancy came in sight round the traverse again, moving briskly,
but obviously slowing down as he passed them, and very obviously
straining to hear anything they were saying. But they both kept silent,
and when he had disappeared round the next traverse, Riley grinned and
winked at his companion.
"He's hooked, Brockie," he said exultantly.
"Now you wait and--" He stopped as a rifle-man moved round the corner
and took up a position on the firing step near them.
"I'll bet," said Riley delightedly, "Clancy has put him there to listen
to anything he can catch us saying."
He turned to the man, who was clipping a tiny mirror on to his bayonet
and hoisting it to use as a periscope.
"Are you on the look-out?" he asked. "And who posted you there?"
"It was Sergeant Clancy, sir," answered the man. "He said I could hear
better--I mean, see better," he corrected himself, "from here."
Riley abruptly turned to their own periscope and apparently resumed the
conversation.
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