uch over
forty, he was bald, and his collar would easily slip over his
head without being unbuttoned. His little twinkling eyes and
good-humoured face were without a particle of arrogance or
official dignity.

Years ago, when General Pershing, then a handsome young
Lieutenant with a slender waist and yellow moustaches, was
stationed as Commandant at the University of Nebraska, Walter
Scott was an officer in a company of cadets the Lieutenant took
about to military tournaments. The Pershing Rifles, they were
called, and they won prizes wherever they went. After his
graduation, Scott settled down to running a hardware business in
a thriving Nebraska town, and sold gas ranges and garden hose for
twenty years. About the time Pershing was sent to the Mexican
border, Scott began to think there might eventually be something
in the wind, and that he would better get into training. He went
down to Texas with the National Guard. He had come to France with
the First Division, and had won his promotions by solid,
soldierly qualities.

"I see you're an officer short, Captain Maxey," the Colonel
remarked at their conference. "I think I've got a man here to
take his place. Lieutenant Gerhardt is a New York man, came over
in the band and got transferred to infantry. He has lately been
given a commission for good service. He's had some experience and
is a capable fellow." The Colonel sent his orderly out to bring
in a young man whom he introduced to the officers as Lieutenant
David Gerhardt.

Claude had been ashamed of Tod Fanning, who was always showing
himself a sap-head, and who would never have got a commission if
his uncle hadn't been a Congressman. But the moment he met
Lieutenant Gerhardt's eye, something like jealousy flamed up in
him. He felt in a flash that he suffered by comparison with the
new officer; that he must be on his guard and must not let
himself be patronized.

As they were leaving the Colonel's office together, Gerhardt
asked him whether he had got his billet. Claude replied that
after the men were in their quarters, he would look out for
something for himself.

The young man smiled. "I'm afraid you may have difficulty. The
people about here have been overworked, keeping soldiers, and
they are not willing as they once were. I'm with a nice old
couple over in the village. I'm almost sure I can get you in
there. If you'll come along, we'll speak to them, before some one
else is put off on them."

Claude