reel film entitled
"The Man Behind the Gun."

With it the Navy Department plotted to advertise the navy and encourage
recruiting. In moving pictures, in the form of a story, with love
interest, villain, comic relief, and thrills, it would show the life of
American bluejackets afloat and ashore, at home and abroad. They would
be seen at Yokohama playing baseball with Tokio University; in the
courtyard of the Vatican receiving the blessing of the Pope; at Waikiki
riding the breakers on a scrubbing-board; in the Philippines eating
cocoanuts in the shade of the sheltering palm, and in Brooklyn in the
Y.M.C.A. club, in the shadow of the New York sky-scrapers, playing
billiards and reading the sporting extras.

As it would be illustrated on the film the life of "The Man Behind the
Gun" was one of luxurious ease. In it coal-passing, standing watch in a
blizzard, and washing down decks, cold and unsympathetic, held no part.
But to prove that the life of Jack was not all play he would be seen
fighting for the flag. That was where, as "Lieutenant Hardy, U.S.A.,"
the King of the Movies entered.

"Our company arrived in Santo Domingo last week," he explained. "And
they're waiting for me now. I'm to lead the attack on the fortress. We
land in shore boats under the guns of the ship and I take the fortress.
First, we show the ship clearing for action and the men lowering the
boats and pulling for shore. Then we cut back to show the gun-crews
serving the guns. Then we jump to the landing-party wading through the
breakers. I lead them. The man who is carrying the flag gets shot and
drops in the surf. I pick him up, put him on my shoulder, and carry him
_and_ the flag to the beach, where I--"

Billy suddenly awoke. His tone was one of excited interest.

"You got a uniform?" he demanded.

"Three," said St. Clair impressively, "made to order according to
regulations on file in the Quartermaster's Department. Each absolutely
correct." Without too great a show of eagerness he inquired: "Like to
see them?"

Without too great a show of eagerness Billy assured him that he would.

"I got to telephone first," he added, "but by the time you get your
trunk open I'll join you in your room."

In the cafe, over the telephone, Billy addressed himself to the
field-marshal in charge of the cable office. When Billy gave his name,
the voice of that dignitary became violently agitated.

"Monsieur Barlow," he demanded, "do you know that the warsh