y anything, please!'
Well, then, I kept my mouth shut, and at noon the following day there
was a 'blue rag'[13] in my overcoat pocket."

[13] "Blue rag," German slang term for bank notes of large
amount.--TR.

"The deuce you say! What luck! But supposing these fellows afterwards
give you away, especially if they don't get their promotions?"

"Oh, they won't say anything; they are glad enough if they can stay
away from the army. As to promotions, most of them were not the kind
to think about such a thing."

"Well, I in your place should be afraid there might be trouble some
time, and then think what a rumpus there would be!"

"Leave me alone for that. Just now there are a couple more of these
rich, stupid fellows; there is the son of a butcher in Brunswick whose
father must be worth a million or so, and the others, too, have lots
of money to burn. What do you suppose I'll make out of them before
they leave the squadron? They are worth at least a couple of hundred
apiece to me. Well, _Prosit!_" They clinked glasses.

The glasses rang out harmoniously, and the next instant they were
emptied of the last drops.

"How do you like this stuff? Costs six marks the bottle! Of course,
_I_ didn't pay for it,"--with another wink.

"Horribly expensive; where did you get it?"

"Last year, you remember, that one year's volunteer, Hoch? When he
wanted to become sergeant, I did my best for him with the Chief, and
so he got the chevrons. And he was not ungrateful. A whole box of
wine--two dozen of these bottles. Pretty decent, wasn't it?"

"You're lucky, sure enough!"

"You see, my friend, how these things must be done. Always practical:
that's my motto. Last year, for instance, I had charge of the mess
provisions. The butcher put in a good many bones now and then, and I
don't think that he ever gave over-weight. Naturally, I was after
him, and the result was a 'blue rag' every week from him, and my
family meat didn't cost me a red, either."

Roth broke into a hearty laughter. He slapped his pocket jocularly,
and the jingling sound of gold and silver met their ears. Then he
gulped down another glassful of the delicious wine.

"Why don't you drink, Schmitz? I suppose you are full."

"As to that, no; that takes longer. _Prosit!_"

In this style the conversation proceeded, and when they had emptied
their third bottle it was very evident that they had drunk about as
much as was good for them. Their eyes had assumed