LITMIR.BIZ

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Prescott. Hello, is that you, Mr. Prescott? The regimental commander is speaking. My compliments, Mr. Prescott, and can you come over to headquarters? Thank you."

      Ringing off the colonel turned to his very new young lieutenant, saying:

      "Mr. Prescott is a last year's graduate of the Military Academy at West Point, and one of the most capable younger officers I have ever met. I can think of no man so well qualified to coach you in the start of your new life, Mr. Ferrers. You have some baggage with you?"

      "Oh, yes, sir. Two trunks on the car."

      "Then you have uniforms with you?"

      "Yes."

      "Say 'sir' when answering a superior officer."

      "Yes, sir."

      "You have your two regulation swords?"

      "Yes, sir. And say!" Ferrers beamed forth, with enthusiasm, while his eyes lit up. "The regulation swords are not such a much, so, while I got them, I also had four other swords made that are a whole lot handsomer. Wait until you see me, sir, with the beauty that Tiffany made to my order – my own design, sir."

      "Doubtless your extra swords will do very well as ornaments in your quarters, Mr. Ferrers," replied the colonel, trying very hard to keep a straight face. "But you will not appear with any other than the regulation swords."

      "Oh, I say, now – " broke forth Ferrers anxiously, but the door opened, and Lieutenant Dick Prescott strode in, looking the perfection of handsome soldiery.

      "You sent for me, sir?" Prescott asked, coming to a very formal salute.

      "Yes, Mr. Prescott. This young gentleman is Lieutenant Algernon Ferrers, lately appointed from civil life. As Mr. Ferrers will presently be glad to admit that he knows less than nothing about Army life, I can think of no one better qualified than you, Mr. Prescott, to explain to him the nature of military life."

      "Thank you, Colonel," replied Prescott gravely.

      "Kindly take Mr. Ferrers over to the officers' mess and see that he is made to feel at home among you youngsters. And advise him, in all necessary respects, as to what is expected of him in this regiment."

      "But my rooms, sir? My little dog-kennel?" urged Ferrers.

      "Mr. Prescott will take you to Lieutenant Pope, the battalion quartermaster, who will assign you to quarters. And, Mr. Prescott, make it a point to introduce Mr. Ferrers to Major Silsbee and also Captain Ruggles of A company, for Mr. Ferrers is assigned to that company."

      Prescott saluted smartly in leaving his colonel. Ferrers also endeavored to salute, and imitated badly – with the wrong hand.

      As soon as the door had closed Colonel North rose, sighed and muttered:

      "With a seeming idiot like that on officers' row I can see our old and happy life here passing."

      Lieutenant Ferrers, after an infinite amount of coaching by Mr. Prescott, turned out at afternoon parade. Ferrers did not take his post with his company, but stood at one side, out of the way, watching the work with a rather bored look.

      By the time that the men were dismissed from parade every enlisted man in barracks appeared to have heard a lot about Lieutenant Ferrers. Every man was either telling or listening to some anecdote about the new young officer, and roars of laughter rang on all sides, for Algy Ferrers, during the brief afternoon, had managed, in spite of Prescott, to make a whole lot of ridiculous breaks.

      "That young shave-tail won't last two weeks in the service," predicted Corporal Hyman, who, though he now belonged in another squad room, was just now visiting with Sergeant Hupner's men.

      "Oh, I don't know," Noll answered thoughtfully. "I've seen a lot of worse enlisted men licked into shape and become good soldiers. I don't know why the rule shouldn't work as well with a new officer."

      Corporal Hal, at this moment, was down at the further end of the squad room, close to an open window. Here, where he had plenty of space for manœuvring, he was practising some moves with the signal flag, while Sergeant Hupner stood by criticising.

      "Of all the dizzy young rookies with the waving shirt I consider you the worst," jeered Corporal Hyman, stepping over. "Here, I'm going to take that thing away from you. What you need, Overton, is rest."

      Hyman made a dive for the signal flag. Corporal Hal resisted the effort to take it away from him, and a good-natured scuffle followed. While it was going on Hal was forced into the open window.

      Hyman seized the staff, giving it a twist. Then Hal started to recover it.

      Thus the staff dropped and fell below, just as young Corporal Overton sprang inward.

      Instantly, however, the boy remembered that it might drop on some one's head. He wheeled like a flash, bending out of the window, just as a howl floated upward.

      "Hey, you idiot!" followed the howl, and the young corporal saw Hinkey, a new recruit in the regiment and company, take off his hat and rub a rising lump on the top of his head.

      "Look out below, there!" called Corporal Hal.

      "What else are you going to throw out at me?" glared Private Hinkey.

      For answer, Corporal Hal sprang over the window sill, landing lightly on the ground below.

      "Hinkey, I'm mighty sorry," began Overton. "It was an accident, and – "

      "An accident?" flared Hinkey sulkily. "I suppose you expect me to believe that you slammed that flagstaff down and hit me on the top of the head, and that it was all an accident?"

      "I certainly do expect you to believe it," replied Corporal Hal, his face flushing.

      "Well, I don't," came the ugly response, accompanied by another scowl. "It's a lie, and – "

      "Be careful, Hinkey!" warned Corporal Overton, his fine young face paling slightly. "Passing the lie, you know, don't go in the Army!"

      "I don't care a hang what goes in the Army," snarled the private, who was a man some twenty-eight years of age, dark of complexion and forbidding of feature. "You've had it in for me all along, Corporal Overton. Only yesterday morning you scorched me at drill."

      "You needed it," was the quiet reply. "And I used no abusive language."

      "Good thing you didn't," flashed Hinkey. "And the day before – "

      "Stop your whining and let me look at your head," advised Corporal Overton. "Whew, what a bump! Hinkey, I'm truly sor – "

      "Get away from me, and never mind my head," snapped the other.

      "But man, the flesh is cut, and the bump is already the size of a hen's egg, and growing. You must have that attended to at hospital."

      "I'll do what I please about that," retorted Hinkey.

      "No; you'll do as you're told. You will report to First Sergeant Gray at once, and ask his permission to report at hospital without delay."

      "Perhaps you think I will," came the disagreeable retort.

      "I know you will," said Corporal Overton more sternly, "for it's a military order and you have no choice but to obey. And, if you think I did that purposely – "

      "I don't think, Overton. I know you did."

      "Then I'll post you as to your rights in the matter, Private Hinkey. When you report to Sergeant Gray for hospital permission, which you will do at once, you can also state that you believe I assaulted you purposely. Then Sergeant Gray will arrange for you to go to Captain Cortland and make regular complaint against me."

      "You think I'm a fool, don't you?" jeered Hinkey.

      "On that point I decline to commit myself."

      "Fine to go and complain against an officers' pet and boot-lick," laughed Hinkey sullenly. "No, sir! I'll go to no officer with a charge against a favored boot-lick!"

      "That's the only way in which you can get redress."

      "Is it?" demanded Private Hinkey, with a sudden, intense scowl that made his ill-featured face look satanic. "Well, you wait and see, my fine young buck doughboy!"

      "Don't

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