Twenty-Three and a Half Hours' Leave

The subtlety of this passed over Sergeant Gray's head. He was carefully adding a small ear to his drawing, an ear which resembled an interrogation point. But a seed had been dropped on the fertile soil of his mind. He finished, yawned again and grinned. All right, he said. C'est la guerre, as the old boy says. I'll lay you two dollars to one I eat breakfast with him within a month. His imagination grew with the thought. Wait I'll eat bran muffins with him at breakfast within a month. How's that? -- A bran muffin with the Old Man he chuckled. A bran muffin A --