The Iron Stallions Read Online Free

said.
    ‘I’ll write them a letter,’ Josh said. ‘I’ll say I threatened to assault you.’
    The porter pulled a face. ‘No need to go that far, sir. That would mean expulsion.’
    ‘It already means that,’ Josh said as he headed through the gates into the darkness. ‘I’m not sure I’m very worried.’
     
    He spent the night in a small hotel where he was asked no questions but received a lot of strange looks. They knew where he had come from, all right.
    The following morning, he slipped into a newsagents’ down the street and bought writing paper and envelopes and sat on the bed to write to his mother, telling her not to worry. Leaving the hotel early, he avoided the town because half the staff and probably half the local police force, too, would be looking for him now, and, setting off walking, caught a train to Ripon at the next stop. Remembering the two hundred and fifty pounds in his pocket, in Ripon he bought nine registered envelopes and addressed them to Reeves, Grayson, Powell and the others. Into each, he put a note saying that, despite winning the raffle, he considered he should share the money.
    He was just wondering what to do next, when he realised he was outside the recruiting office. The walls were splashed with posters recommending the army as a life for adventurous young men. Inside, was a middle-aged sergeant, with a bottle nose, medals, ribbons on his cap and a red sash across his chest. He looked up at Josh.
    ‘Now, young feller,’ he said. ‘Want to join up, do you?’
    Josh hadn’t been considering anything at all but he found himself replying in a strong, clear voice devoid of doubt.
    ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘I’ve decided.’
    The sergeant beamed. ‘Well,’ he said, ‘we’ve got some nice vacancies in the West Yorkshires. Good regiment, that. They could do with a fine upstanding lad like yourself. How old are you?’
    ‘Seventeen.’
    The sergeant poked his ear. ‘I don’t ’ear so well these days,’ he said. ‘Them barrages on the Somme in ’Sixteen did for me. Did you say eighteen?’
    Josh recognised the ploy because he’d heard of it often from his grandfather. ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘Eighteen. That’s what I said.’
    ‘Thought you did.’ The sergeant looked at Josh’s black jacket and striped trousers and made a shrewd guess where he’d come from. ‘You ain’t been up to anything you shouldn’t, ’ave you?’ he asked. ‘The army don’t go for young fellers dodgin’ the police, you know.’
    ‘I’m not in trouble with the police.’
    ‘A girl?’
    Josh grinned. ‘No. Not a girl.’
    The sergeant eyed him warily. ‘All right then,’ he said. ‘Why are you wantin’ to get into khaki? You got family connections with the army?’
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘’Ow about the King’s Own Yorkshire Light Infantry then? One of the Unsurpassable Six. Helped to rout eighty-three squadrons of French ’orse in 1759. Advanced against ’em with drums beatin’ and chased ’em off the field. They’re a good regiment for a feller who’s proud to be a soldier, and you look fit and athletic. You ’ave to be, to keep up with that lot. ’Undred and forty paces to the minute they goes.’
    ‘I want the cavalry,’ Josh said.
    ‘There ain’t no vacancies in the cavalry.’
    ‘If I can’t join the cavalry,’ Josh said, ‘I think I’ll join the Navy.’
    As he pretended to turn away, the sergeant called him back. There was a trace of anxiety in his voice. ‘’Ere, ’old on,’ he said. ‘Take it easy. We might just be able to squeeze you in somewhere. What’s your fancy?’
    ‘The Clutchers. Nineteenth Lancers. They’ve always done their recruiting in this part of the world.’
    The sergeant gave him a shrewd look. ‘Somebody ’ere knows ’is way about,’ he said. ‘Ain’t many knows nicknames and recruiting areas afore they puts uniforms on. You got someone in the Clutchers?’
    ‘Not now. I had.’
    ‘Killed in the war, was