his face turning red. The lad of pure Celtic stock felt his own blood boil and his ready tongue found release.

"Now, ain't ye got the ignorant nerve to stand right out here in America and talk like a fat tomat? De ye know that might not be quite safe everywhere?"

"Safe? Safe? Ach, I see noddings onsafe! I don't see no metals on nobotty roundt here vat iss going to make id onsafe for me. Und vat I tinks I says, heh? Und nobotty can stop me, needer!"

"Better not think too much, then, Dutchy," advised Roy.

"Say, young feller, you vas oldt enough to know bedder den to call me Dutch. I vas Cherman. Und chust you remember dot; see?"

"That's so, Germany. I guess it's an insult to the honest Dutch to call you that. By the way you fellows have been carrying on over there in Belgium, burning, looting, murdering women and children——"

"Dot vas a lie! All a lie! Newspapers, newspapers! Der American newspapers iss chust like der beeble, all liars! Und you belief 'em, py gollies, effrybotties. Efen Vilson, he ain'dt got no better——"

"Hold on, there! You're going much too far! Speak with respect of the President of the United States, or don't speak of him at all!" This came, like a shot, from Herb, and the boy's eyes flashed into the little pig's peepers of the big foreigner. A cheer went up from the crowd and Roy slapped his chum on the back.

"That's the stuff! Give him some more of that!"

The German took a few steps forward facing Herb, the crowd giving way. The man's arm was raised.

"Vat you got to say aboudt it, heh? I say chust vat I bleese. Who vas you? Purdy soon I ketch you py der neck und twist id like a chicken gets der axe, heh?"

"You really couldn't mean to be so unkind, could you? Now, honest." Herb was sarcastic. "Now, I'll tell you what we'll do to fix you. You come along down town and we'll just turn you over to the cops. They'll want to investigate you. How about it, fellows? Hadn't we better take him right now?"

One senior, scenting trouble, began to edge away, but the others responded by general acclamation. It might mean a serious scrimmage, but they were ready for it; all that had been needed to call them into action was a leader.

But the big German proved to be the actual aggressor. Permitting his anger to get the better of his judgment and quicker on his feet than his girth would indicate, he made a rush straight at Herbert. No doubt he meant to end matters by a sudden defeat of the leader and thus intimidate the others. But like many German plans this one did not fully work out.

Herb merely side-stepped. As a most promising pupil he had long received special training in boxing from the capable athletic instructor. He was instantly out of the man's reach as the big arms and fat hands reached to seize him; he was just a mite too far away also when the ponderous fist, swung round in the air, aimed at his head. But the German was not out of Roy's reach.

The foreigner's artillery may have been heavier, but that of the American youth was handier and reached farther. The man's blow, that surely would have done damage had it landed, by its momentum had carried him half off his feet when Herb just stepped forward, shot out his arm and stepped back again.

The German got it precisely in the right place on the jaw and he collapsed like a clothes-horse with the props knocked from under it.

It was a good deal like a fat pig doing the wallow act, for the man did not remain long quiescent. He rolled over to his hands and knees, then got to his feet and letting out a roar like a mad bull, commenced swinging his arms windmill fashion. Then there was another rush at Herb.

The incident was repeated, precisely and accurately, except that the blow on the jaw was this time harder and that the German lay prone somewhat longer. He arose this time to a sitting posture and through his little eyes regarded Herb with something akin to wonder. The boy, never hard-hearted, turned away. But Roy stood before the undignified foe.

"Now, you see, Dutchy, what is bound to happen to you if you get gay. Pretty much the same thing is going to happen to the German Army before long. If you don't stop shooting off your big mouth this'll happen to you." And the lad drew his fingers around his neck to indicate a strangling rope.

The growing crowd, many others having now joined it, set up a laugh and then a decided cheer at this; the German blinked at his opponents, felt his jaw, made a horrible grimace and finally, getting to his feet, made off slowly across the street. The crowd jeered after him, then turned with appreciation toward Herbert. But that worthy, hating laudation, beckoned to Roy, and the two walked quickly on their way.

"One battle won, b'gorry!" Roy could not refrain from some comment. "Say, Herb, they were sure nice ones that you handed him and right where he needed them most, too—in his talker. Reckon that was about the first victory over the Germans, but guess it won't be the last."

"I'm going to try to help that it isn't, Roy."

"What you mean, lad?"

"That chump's words set me to thinking," Herb said. "It's up to just such as I am to take a hand; a bigger hand. I'm going right now to the recruiting office and enlist."

"You are? By cracky! Enlist, is it? That's the stuff! Well, you know what I told you about you and me. I'm going to enlist, too, if you do! I'll have to write for me old man's consent, of course, but he'll give it. Come on! Let's go see what we gotta do." And the youth raised his voice in impromptu song:

CHAPTER II

Joining Hands with Uncle Sam

Captain Pratt, recruiting officer, glanced up to see two young fellows approaching, evidently with some intention of engaging his services. And for the big and important cause he was appointed to aid he was more than willing that his services should be engaged, heavily engaged, at any and all times.

The world was at war; his beloved country was mixed up in this contest, hopefully for the right and as humanely as it is possible to be when fighting. It required soldiers to fight and men and more men and still more men out of which to make these soldiers which were to win in a glorious cause for liberty and honor.

And so, because of the position of his office and the considerable number of students coming to him there, he may have been a little less careful about sticking to the precise regulations concerning very young applicants. The captain had a weakness for youngsters, being something of an overgrown boy himself at times, and this may have had much to do with his leniency.

The upshot of it was that, a little while later, after some information had been exchanged, questions had been asked mostly on the part of the captain, and oaths had been taken, the military gentleman dismissed the two young fellows with this parting injunction:

"Now you understand. Both of you report to the commanding officer at Camp Wheeler as soon as you can arrange matters. Come to me for cards to him. I need hear nothing more from you, Whitcomb, as you say your guardian will be willing and anxious for you to enlist. I'll want a letter of consent from your father, Flynn. Flynn? That