“I don’t care; I——” Dan’s hand closed firmly over the arm of his companion. Sam twisted angrily, but gradually he regained control of himself. He did not look toward the scowling face of Flink, not daring to trust himself to do so. Dan’s grip relaxed. The two lads bent over their plates and resumed their interrupted meal. “Look out!” sang out a voice. Dan’s head was inclined slightly toward that of his companion, he being about to make some remark to Sam. Both lads glanced up quickly their ears caught the warning. “Duck it!” came the second warning. But the warning was too late. Smack! Something hit Dan Davis squarely in the face, filling mouth, eyes and nostrils. He could not see a thing. Sam Hickey started to his feet with an angry growl. Smack! Something smote him on the face with the same result. A piece of pie had been hurled at Sam, but the first piece had missed him, Dan catching the full force of it. The second shot had been delivered with better aim, and Sam that time got the pie that was intended for him. “Who did that?” demanded Dan, wiping the sticky stuff from his eyes and glaring about. About that time Sam had succeeded in freeing his own eyes. His face was pale and the patches of freckles stood out in bold relief. “You threw that pie, Flink.” “Yes; he threw the pie,” answered a chorus of voices. “Never mind; you need not tell me about it, fellows. I’ll take care of Mr. Flink. I’ll hand him back as good as he sent, and it will not be pie either.” Sam, whom Dan had pulled back into his chair, started to rise again. “Look out! Here comes an officer,” warned a boy sitting on the other side of him. Sam sank back into his chair and began mopping the remnants of the pie from his face, while Dan was doing the same for himself. “Not a word,” whispered Dan warningly. The quartermaster was standing in the doorway, eyeing the group of rookies sternly. “What is the meaning of this?” he demanded. No one answered. All hands bent over their plates. “Attention!” The lads, after an instant’s hesitation, straggled to their feet. That is, all did save Sam Hickey. Sam coolly helped himself to another chunk of hot corn bread, which he proceeded to eat. “Attention!” The eyes of the quartermaster were fixed upon him, but Sam did not move. The officer walked over and touched the lad on the shoulder. Sam looked up in well-feigned surprise. “Did you not hear my command?” “Oh, talking to me, were you?” questioned the boy innocently. “Do you understand the meaning of ‘Attention’?” “I suppose it means to pay attention.” “It means that you are to come to attention. If you are sitting, when the command is given, you are to rise instantly and come to attention.” “Yes, sir.” There was a broad grin on the faces of all the apprentices, save that of the dark-faced Louis Flink. His head was slouched forward and he was peering up at the officer, a resentful scowl on his face. “Attention!”