“Well, that wasn’t my gun at all. It was some one else’s Krag.” “Then some one else took yours?” questioned Sam, with rising color. “Yes, but I think perhaps that was a mistake.” “It wasn’t any mistake at all,” snapped Sam, “and I’m going to keep my eyes open. I’ll get even with the fellow who is trying to get us into trouble—I’ll get even with him before we leave the station, if I lose my job doing it.” That afternoon there was to be a battalion drill, and, after the morning’s work, all hands hurried to quarters to get into their bright, clean white uniforms. It was the one time in the week when the apprentices were given an opportunity to show themselves at their best. Many people came out from town for this regular Thursday afternoon drill, when every apprentice at the station appeared on parade, with flags waving, bands playing, the sunlight glistening on polished weapons. “This will be our last drill here, I hope,” glowed Dan, as all preparations having been made, the lads hurried out and falling in, started for the drill ground, marching by fours. All went well until the company in which the two boys were marching had swung into line. Then there came a sudden command: “Halt!” The petty officers in command ran their eyes over the line in some surprise. They did not understand what it meant. They knew, however, that something had gone wrong. The executive officer was standing to the rear of the line, at some distance, while the battalion was going through its evolutions. His observant eyes had suddenly caught sight of something that filled him with amazement and indignation. Quickly striding down to the line, the men facing away from him, he called the chief quartermaster to him. “Take those men out of line.” “Which ones, sir?” The executive officer, pointed, and then the petty officer saw that which also amazed him. A moment more and he had tapped both Dan and Sam on the shoulder. “Fall out!” he commanded. They obeyed promptly, but wonderingly. “Report to your quarters, and remain there in detention.” The boys saluted and moved away. “Now, will you tell me what this means?” demanded Dan. “That’s what I was trying to find out. We haven’t done anything.” They had reached their quarters when, all at once, Dan uttered an exclamation. “What is it?” demanded Sam. “Look at yourself.” “What’s wrong with me?” growled the freckle-faced boy. “Take off your jacket and you’ll see.” “You had better take off your own while you are about it,” replied Sam, opening his eyes wide as he gazed at his companion. With one accord they stripped off their jackets, uttering exclamations of anger as they did so. The backs of the jackets were streaked with bright red until they resembled the bars of the American Flag, which they no doubt had been intended by the perpetrator of the outrage to represent. Sam examined his jacket critically; then, glancing up, he met the eyes of his companion.