Of course much of his anger and resentment were directed toward his late opponent. His threat on the night of the election had been no idle one, and Hal and his friends knew it. They waited, therefore, not without some apprehension, to see what steps he might now take to prevent the first lieutenant-elect from ever having the benefit of his shoulder-straps. CHAPTER XIII It is true that First Sergeant Barriscale took into serious consideration the question of an attempt to block the confirmation of his rival’s election to the first lieutenancy. But when he consulted with his father about the matter, the elder Barriscale advised against such action. Not that he had any love for McCormack. He was against him as bitterly as was his son. But he had a longer head than had his boy, and he felt that the time was not yet ripe in which to inaugurate a movement that would do the young officer the most injury. Hal had not renounced his socialistic leanings, nor had he forsaken his radical associates. Of that fact the Barriscales had assured themselves, and with that fact, and what it promised for the future, they were at present content. “Give him rope enough, and he’ll hang himself,” was the sententious comment of the elder Barriscale. So, in due time, Lieutenant McCormack received his commission and took the oath required of commissioned officers. It was an oath the obligation of which stared him in the face many times in the days that were to come. “I do solemnly swear that to the best of my knowledge and ability I will support and defend the Constitution of the United States, and of the State of Pennsylvania, against all enemies foreign and domestic; and that I will well and faithfully discharge the duties of the office on which I am about to enter. So help me God. “HALPERT MCCORMACK, _First Lieutenant Company E, ----th Regiment, N. G. P., Fairweather, Pa._” “Sworn to and subscribed before me this 21st day of October, A. D. 1915. “ELON A. CONYBEARE, _Major, Staff of_ BRIG.-GEN’L. SAML. A. FINLETTER.” So, at last, Hal had his shoulder-straps, his officer’s uniform, and his equipment. Much against his inclination he had been obliged to accept these things as a gift from his Aunt Sarah Halpert. Not to have done so would, as she herself declared, have completely broken her heart. “I can’t go and fight,” she said to him; “not but what I’d be perfectly willing to, but they wouldn’t let me. So the next best thing for me to do was to furnish you with your fighting togs. And you’ll have a chance to use ’em; take my word for it. Uncle Sam’s soldiers are going to have some fighting to do before things get settled.” “I hope not, Aunt Sarah.” “You hope not! Why, you weak-kneed pacifist! If this government doesn’t jump in and help France and England smash the Kaiser, I’ll be ashamed of my flag.” “It’s not our quarrel.”