I will say this for the major, though, he's a good sport. He comes right
to the front and takes all the blame.

"I'm responsible," he tells the manager. "It's perfectly all right, too.
Military necessity, sir. Well, perhaps you don't like it, but I'll have
you understand, sir, I could block off your whole street if I wished. So
clear out, all of you."

"Why, Horace!" puts in one of the ladies, grabbin' him by the arm.

"Yes, yes, my dear," says the major. "I know. No scene. Certainly not.
Only these hotel persons must be put in their place. And if you will
excuse me for a moment I'll see what can be done. Come, lieutenant. I
want to get a look at those spools myself."

Well, he did. "But--but I understood," says he, "that they were stuck in
concrete or something of the kind."

"Yes, sir," says I. "We had to unstick 'em. Pneumatic drills and a steam
roller. Very simple."

"Great Scott!" says he. "Why didn't that fool captain think of---- But,
see here, I don't want 'em here. Now, if we could only get them to Pier
14----"

"That would be a long way to roll 'em, sir," says I, "but it could be
done. Loadin' 'em on a couple of army trucks would be easier, though.
There's a Quartermaster's depot at the foot of Fifty-seventh Street, you
know."

"So there is," says he. "I'll call them up. Come in, will you,
lieutenant and--and join us at tea? You've earned it, I think."

Three minutes more and the major announces that the trucks are on the
way.

"Which means, Ellins," he adds, "that you win your twenty-five. Here you
are."

"If you don't mind," says Old Hickory, "I'll keep this and pass on my
hundred to Torchy here. He might like to entertain his volunteer squad
with it."

Did I? Say, when I got through showin' that bunch of far West artillery
husks how to put in a real pleasant evening along Broadway there wasn't
enough change left to buy a sportin' extra. But they'd had chow in the
giddiest lobster palace under the white lights, they'd occupied two
boxes at the zippiest girl show in town and they was loaded down with
cigarettes and chocolate enough to last 'em clear to France.

The next mornin', when Old Hickory comes paddin' into the general
offices, he stops to pat me friendly on the shoulder.

"I think we have succeeded in revising the major's opinion," he remarks,
"as to the general utility of bomb-proofers in certain instances."

I grins up at him. "Then," says I, "do I get a recommend for active du