The most interested onlooker was Chick Dalloway. Chick was a hanger-on of Company E. He had a decided leaning toward the military life, and hoped some day to be a member of the company. But poor Chick was under-sized, hump-backed, lop-shouldered, and hollow-chested. Moreover he had not that degree of mental alertness and stability necessary in an efficient soldier. So, although no one had ever had the heart, or heartlessness, to tell him so, every one but Chick knew that there was no possibility of his ever becoming an enlisted man in Company E. In the meantime, however, the company profited by his devotion to its interests. He was always present on drill nights, he always accompanied the troops to the summer encampment, he ran errands, he carried water, he cleaned equipment, he performed all kinds of humble service for the officers and enlisted men; and while he was not on the company’s pay-roll, he received regularly a small gratuity from those whom he served. And as the weeks and months and years went by, he never ceased to dream of the day when he too should wear khaki, and carry a rifle, and march with the best of them. At the end of an hour the two new recruits were dismissed with commendation from the drill-master and compliments from Chick. “I ain’t never seen no two rookies,” said the boy, “since I been in the company, what got into the game quicker’n easier’n them fellers.” It was three weeks later that McCormack, on his way to the armory on a drill night, ran squarely into Hugo Donatello at the river bridge on Main Street. It was the first time that the two young men had seen each other since the Fourth of July, but the recognition was mutual. McCormack would have passed on with a nod, but Donatello stopped and held out his hand. “I have not before had the opportunity,” he said, “to thank you for your attitude toward me on your Independence Day. I wish that I do so now.” Hal took the man’s hand; he could do no less. “Oh,” he replied, “that was nothing. I thought they weren’t giving you a square deal, and I said so, that was all.” “I know; but it demanded the courage to say so. You were very brave. Me, I shall not soon forget it.” “Well,” replied Hal, smiling, “I always did sympathize with the under dog in a fight, and you were the under dog that day all right.” “Yes. The--the under dog.” He was a little doubtful about the meaning of the phrase. The simile was not familiar to him. But he continued: “They thought to punish me. It is the--what you call--boomerang. The incident is known and deprecated by workers everywhere. It has roused their resentment. They do not like that a capitalist flag be made one excuse for abuse and oppression of a member of the proletariat. The ruling class, they are to suffer for that outrage.” His voice rose at the finish, and his eyes flashed. It was plain that the resentment he harbored was deep and bitter.