“Why, you ingrate,” he shouted, “the protection you get from that flag was what brought you to this free country, and you know it!” And the defiant one answered: “The only flag which gives the protection to all men alike is the red flag of the common brotherhood. I honor no capitalist banner.” He spoke distinctly, decisively, with an accent that marked him as a student if not a master of English. Still his hat remained on his head. More people, attracted by the speakers, began to crowd closer, eager to hear, at short range, what was an interesting if not a heated controversy. In the meantime, at the foot of the flagstaff, there was confusion and delay. The band was still playing, but the colors were not moving upward. Something had gone wrong with the apparatus by which the flag was to be hoisted. A portion of the blue field and some of the milk-white stars had been drawn up above the heads of the audience, but had refused to go higher. Apparently the halyards had caught in the pulley at the top of the staff, and all the efforts of the young girls robed in white, and all the efforts of the chairman of the flag committee, mingled freely with perspiration and ejaculations, failed to release them. But, even in the face of this attractively awkward situation, people were turning and pressing in ever increasing numbers toward the man who had refused to uncover his head either at the sound of the music or the sight of the folds of The Star-Spangled Banner. An impetuous young fellow, pushing his way in from the outskirts of the crowd, cried: “Oh, don’t fool with him! If he won’t take his hat off, knock it off!” The suggestion was no sooner made than it was acted upon. A near-by hand shot out, and the next moment the offensive head-gear went flying out into the crowd. The face of the defiant one flushed and paled, his dark eyes blazed with indignation, his lips twitched; but he did not speak. No one appeared to sympathize with him; no one put forth any effort to protect him. On the contrary, all those who witnessed the overt act made noisy manifestation of their approval; all but Halpert McCormack. He was silent and doubtful. He would have resented any imputation of disloyalty on his part either in thought or deed. But the thing that had just been done did not appeal to him. It offended his sense of justice. His sympathy, which had always been for the under dog in any fight, was aroused in behalf of the man who was standing alone in the midst of a hostile crowd. But he said nothing; it would have been useless to protest. Nor was he quite sure that the man had not, partly at least, deserved the treatment he had received. Doubtless the incident would have been closed then and there had not the red-faced man who had originally protested desired further to express his abhorrence of acts savoring of disloyalty to the flag.