Jim and Jake, the twins, in an effort to compel the surrender of a buttered buckwheat cake, toppled over on Merrill, the second son, who in turn flung them against Ernest. That wily youngster was more than equal to such occasions; he dodged out of his chair and when the struggling twins tumbled across his seat he twisted the corner of the tablecloth about the neck of one, quickly wrecking things, as the wrestlers fell to the floor. Don made a wide grab at several things at once, but finding his attempt futile he turned, tore the tusslers apart and sent them sprawling to opposite corners; then he gave Ernest a crack with open hand, which caused that youngster being the baby of the family, to bawl loudly. Just at that instant Dr. Richards hurriedly entered the room, for he had just been fixing his auto runabout and now came back for a bite to eat. The sight that confronted the busy man was enough to exasperate a saint. He saw Donald in the midst of the mêlée and jumped at a too hasty conclusion. A man usually of few words, often over-lenient and generally just, he now, let his temper run away with his judgment and his tongue. Grabbing two dried buckwheat cakes that had, by merest chance, remained on the edge of the table, he turned back toward the door. “You are setting your younger brothers anything but a good example, Donald! We have less of this sort of thing when you’re away. If you carry on this way at Brighton I should think you’d soon be in disgrace. You ought to be a little older and join the army; the discipline there would do you good. A nice breakfast this is!” he added as he began, moodily, to eat. Don was too proud and too loyal to the joint offenders to explain. It seemed enough for him to know that he was not to blame, that the scolding was not merited and his father would soon find this out. An idea had quickly entered his head. “I can manage to get into the war, Father, if you’ll sign an application paper.” “Well, I’ll see about it--haven’t time now.” “Yes, I think you have. Better sign before we wreck the house, or set fire to it. Here’s the document. Write on the last line, at the bottom.” Doctor Richards seized the paper that Don shoved at him, but hardly glanced at it. “I suppose you feel mightily independent since you got that five hundred dollars. Well, going will probably do you good.” With that the man of many duties drew forth his fountain pen, placed the paper against the door-jamb, and quickly wrote his name. “Let me know later just what you intend doing; I will help you all I can. But if you like school best, better go back, perhaps.” The doctor stepped out of the room, the front door slammed, there was the chug of a motor and the boys were again left to themselves. The twins and Ernest sneaked away; Merrill turned to Don, whom he really loved and admired. “Say, that was rotten! And for me and those kids to let you take that, too! You bet I’ll tell Dad all about it when he comes back.”