The General and his staff gathered around the Reverend President of the Peace Union with jovial faces. They were inclined to like him. He had contributed something new to the hilarity of nations. They put on their glasses, adjusted and removed them, adjusted them again, looked him up and down, turned him around and wagged their heads gravely. “Well, gentlemen,” the Commander laughed, “we’re all agreed that it’s a rare specimen--the real question is--what is it?” Each answer brought a roar of laughter. “It looks like a man--” “Can’t be!” “It might have been once!” “But not now!” “A new microbe?” “Sure--that’s it--the microbe Pacificus americanus!” The preacher fidgeted in a sorry effort to smile with his tormentors. “I suppose, of course, gentlemen,” Pike fluttered, “as I’m a tenderfoot you will have your little jokes--it’s all in the day’s work--so to speak--as it were!” The Commander turned to a sergeant. “Put an apron on this little man and make him a dishwasher--tin dishes--he might ruin my silver--” The officers roared. “If he’s any good I’ll make a butler out of him. I like his whiskers. They’re distinctly English--” With a loud guffaw the staff dispersed and the General turned to his tent. Pike danced a little jig in his effort to recall the judge and correct the error of his sentence. The sergeant gave him a resounding smack on the side of his head that spun him round like a top. Pike was livid with rage. He bristled like a bantam rooster for a minute to the amazement of his guard. “Don’t do that! Don’t do it--don’t do it again! Upon my soul, this surpasses human belief, sir! I shall denounce the whole proceeding in a series of resolutions that will resound over this nation--mark my word!” The soldier waited until Pike’s breath ran short and then kicked him three feet, lifting him clear of the ground. When the preacher struck he fell flat on his face. The blow took out of him what wind there was left. He scrambled to his feet and edged out of reach. “I--I--return--good for evil, sir--“ he stammered at last. “I bless them that despitefully use me--God bless you!” The soldier snorted with rage and gave him another kick, crying: “The same to you! And many of ’em!” When Pike scrambled to his feet again and wiped the dust out of his lips he shook his head in despair: “God bless my soul! God bless my soul!” The Sergeant grinned in his face. “Cheer up, Cuthbert, you’ll soon be dead!” Ten minutes later he thrust poor Pike into the kitchen inclosure and shouted to the cook: “The sooner you kill him the better--go as far as you like!” CHAPTER XXIX To Vassar sleep had been impossible for the past two nights. He dozed for an hour during the day from sheer exhaustion, but the nearer the hour came for the test of strength between the opposing armies on which hung the fate of a hundred million people, the deeper became his excitement.