lk round to the canteen and get in the scales again.
I try 'em every day, hoping to find 'em moving the wrong way, but I
never can.  I was seventeen stone thirteen yesterday; next week I shall
be eighteen stone, and they can't keep a man like that in the army."

"Stop!  Look here!" cried Dick, so earnestly that the sergeant plumped
down again into his seat, gazing wildly into the young man's face, ready
to grasp at any straw to save himself from being drowned in his misery.

"Yes, yes," he panted; and he began to wipe his big, smooth face.  "Got
an idea?"

"I think I could cure you, Mr Brumpton."

"Could you?  How?  I'll take anything.  I don't mind how nasty."

"I've got an idea that I think will work, and, if it doesn't take down
your fat, it would keep you from having to leave the regiment."

The sergeant made a grab at Dick's hand.

"What is it?  What is it?" he panted.

"Learn the bombardon!"

The sergeant loosened his grasp, and sank back again.

"You're laughing at me," he said, reproachfully; "and it comes hard from
you, Dick Smithson."

"I'm not laughing at you, sergeant," cried Dick, earnestly.  "Look here!
it's a thing I have often noticed; but I never thought of applying it to
you.  Who are the two thinnest men in the band?"

"Those two young chaps who play the trombones."

"Exactly, and nearly all the fellows are thin.  You learn to play the
bombardon, and I'll be bound to say that it will pull you down."

"Think so?" said the sergeant, with a sigh.

"I feel sure!"

"But how can I?"

"Oh, you could manage that.  Tell Mr Wilkins you've taken a fancy to
learn the instrument.  I'll help you."

The sergeant looked doubtful.

"Then, if it doesn't get your fat down, you could come in the band.
You'd look splendid, marching along with that great brass instrument!"

"Not chaffing me, are you?" said the sergeant, suspiciously.

"Chaffing?  No, man.  There, I'll speak out frankly to show you how
sincere I am.  It does look absurd to see you puffing and panting along
at the double with your company.  Don't be o