Now that the exciting part of the race was apparently over, he had become alive to business.  Twelve o’clock was the hour named for the lodging of tenders with the camp commandant; "and with the likes of the Army," he said, "you might be done if so be you was half a wink late. It’s not that I’ve a word to say in favour of any matter of punctuality in the Army; but they’re the way of making a mighty fuss over trifles. It was told me the name they put to it is red tape."