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 fail to report to Sergeant Gray for hospital permission," Corporal Hal Overton called after the fellow. "If you do, you'll be up against disobedience of orders."
Private Hinkey, moving away, made a derisive gesture behind his back, but the boyish young corporal turned on his heel, stepping off in another direction.
"If that kid thinks he can lord it over me," snarled Private Hinkey under his breath, "he's due to wake up before long."
Nevertheless Private Hinkey had already learned enough of Army life to feel certain that he was obliged to go to Sergeant Gray.
"Sure thing! Go over to hospital and have that head dressed at once," ordered the first sergeant. "How did it happen?"
"The fellow who did it said it was an accident," replied Hinkey, with an ugly leer.
"Then report him," urged the first sergeant of B Company. "I can take care of the offender if it was done on purpose."
"That's all right," snapped Private Hinkey. "So can I."
"If Hinkey is telling the truth, then there's the start of a nice little row in that sore head," thought Gray, glancing after the man headed for hospital.
And, indeed, Sergeant Gray was wholly right.
CHAPTER III
THE FIRST BREATH AGAINST A SOLDIER'S HONOR
THE night was so quiet, the air so still, that the single, distant stroke of the town clock bell over in the town of Clowdry was distinctly audible.
Dong! boomed the bell, the vibration reaching the ears of two or three of the lighter sleepers, and causing them to stir lightly in their sleep in Sergeant Hupner's squad room.
Out on the post, not far away, a dog chose to bark at that town-clock bell.
Some one gliding swiftly through the squad room upset a stool with a loud crash. Yet few of the soundly sleeping soldiers bothered their heads about such a series of trivial noises.
Now, a series of hails began, starting down at the guard house and running rapidly around the sentry posts until the sentry pacing near barracks caught it up and called lustily:
"Post number six. One o'clock, and all's well!"
One man in especial had been stirring on his cot as though trying to throw off some phantom of dread. Now instantly after the sentry's hail this stirring sleeper emitted an excited yell.
"Wow! Turn
