Sergeant Keyser went into each room and superintended the counting over of the separate articles. Then he threw them over the arm of a gunner who was to carry them to the kit-room. He had intentionally left Wolf's room to the last, and had despatched all the other reservists before him. For he meant to pay out the socialist fellow who had let him in for six weeks' arrest; Wolf should have to wait about as long as possible before being finally released from military discipline. At last, however, his turn came. He counted out just the right number of articles; the buttons of the jacket shone again, and not a rent was to be found anywhere. He folded the trousers and beat them with his hand--not a particle of dust rose from them. The leather things also were unimpeachable, and the boots were in the exact regulation condition--not brightly polished, but merely rubbed over with grease to prevent the leather from drying up. Keyser muttered a surly "all right," and turning away threw the things over Findeisen's arm and put the boots into his hand. But the gunner, who was already holding four pairs by the tags, let them fall to the ground. Sergeant Keyser picked them up, scolding furiously. The dust from the floor had stuck in thick streaks on the greasy leather. Then a bright idea occurred to the sergeant. He held the boots up before Findeisen's face and bellowed at him, "Lick that off, you swine!" It was not really meant literally, that was plain; but an ungovernable fury began to glow in his eyes. Findeisen had drawn back. He ground his teeth and looked defiance straight into the sergeant's eyes. This maddened Keyser. His face became purple with passion, and again he hissed out, "Dog, lick it at once!" Suddenly the resolute spirit of opposition died out of Findeisen's eyes. The strong, broad-shouldered man bowed as if under the lash; he became pale as death, and actually touched the boot with his tongue. The sergeant rubbed the leather roughly over his face, leaving patches of dirt and grease on the skin. Then he turned and looked Wolf straight in the eyes. "Do you see that, fellow?" the triumphant challenging look seemed to say: "Your comrade must abase himself to the level of the beasts, if we so will it,--we, who have the power!" Wolf hit him full in the face with his clenched fist. The sergeant staggered. He uttered a gurgling cry and tried to throw himself upon the reservist. Then something unexpected happened, taking place so suddenly and so quickly that afterwards Wolf was hardly able to picture it. Findeisen had thrown to the ground all that he carried--the boots and the outfit. In a flash he seized the sergeant, held him raised for an instant in his powerful arms, and then flung him head forwards against the wall. The skull struck the wall with a dull thud, and the body fell heavily to the ground.