During drill Landsberg generally stood at the end of the parade-ground, looking utterly bored and staring at his boots, which he had had made in the style of Reimers'. It was only if Wegstetten was in sight that he troubled himself about the recruits. Then he would run to Corporal Wiegandt's division, and always began to abuse Klitzing, the "careless fellow," the "lazy-bones." He was constantly threatening the poor devil with extra drill; but he never enforced the punishment, as that would have meant that he himself must put in an appearance at the same time. At last Reimers, who was commanding the battery during a brief absence of the captain, put an end to this little game. "Tell me, Landsberg, have you ever consulted Corporal Wiegandt about that wretched Klitzing?" "No, sir," answered Landsberg. Reimers called Wiegandt to him. "What's the matter with Klitzing?" he inquired. The corporal replied: "Beg pardon, sir; the man means thoroughly well and takes great pains; but I think he is far too delicate." "Very good, Wiegandt," said Reimers, and dismissed him. Then he turned seriously and officially to Landsberg. "I think, Landsberg, you had better leave the man in peace." Landsberg murmured: "Yes, sir," and looked out for another victim. During the week the recruits in Room IX. had got to know each other better. The band of comradeship had wound itself imperceptibly around them, and within it some closer, more cordial friendships had sprung up. The most varied types of men found themselves thrown together. If, in the evening, the fat brewer happened for once not to be resting his tired body in sleep after the fatigues of the day, he would squat down near Listing, who had been a wanderer and a vagabond. He would listen with many a shake of the head to the stories Listing related of his life on the roads, especially of the nights the fine ones, in which one lay on the dry grass beneath the twinkling stars, or in the forest under a beech in the branches of which the screech-owl was calling; and of the wretched, rainy, cold nights of late autumn. Then one would pull a few trusses of straw out of a stack and creep shivering into the hole, which would gradually become wet through from the dripping rain, and through the opening of which the east wind would blow in icily. Then the brewer would clap his comrade on the knee with his broad, fat hand, and say: "Well, friend, it must feel first-class to you now when you roll into a good bed?" But Listing replied: "Well, no. Not exactly. But perhaps I shall get used to it. I have often slept better out of doors; but worse too." Vogt soon formed his own opinions about his comrades. The best of them all, the one who put the whole lot into the shade, was without doubt Klitzing. The courage with which the weakly clerk performed his duties filled him with an almost reverential admiration, and the honest fellow was ready to stand by the poor, harassed lad whenever it was possible.