"That person!" snorts mother. "I shall have nothing to do with him whatever. I mean to get you out of this, Wilfred. I am going straight to the general." "Now, mother!" protests Wilfred. "Don't make a scene." When she was properly stirred up, though, that was mother's long suit. And she starts right in. Course, I tried to head her off, but it's no use. As there wasn't a general handy, she had to be satisfied with a major. Seemed like a mighty busy major, too; but when he heard his orderly tryin' to shunt the ladies, he gives the signal to let 'em in. You can bet I didn't follow. Didn't have to, for Mrs. Bliss wasn't doin' any whisperin' about then. And she sure made it plain to the major how little she thought of the U. S. Army, and specially that part of it located at Allentown, Pa. Havin' got that off her chest, and been listened to patient, she demands that Wilfred be excused from all his disgustin' duties, and be allowed to go home with her at once and for good. The major shakes his head. "Impossible!" says he. "Then," says Mrs. Stanton Bliss, tossin' her head, "I shall appeal to the Secretary of War; to the President, if necessary." The major smiles weary. "You'd best talk to his sergeant," says he. "If he recommends your son's discharge it may go through." "That person!" exclaims Mrs. Bliss. "Never! I--I might talk to his captain." "Useless, madam," says the major. "See his sergeant; he's the one." And he signifies polite that the interview is over. When mother tells sonny the result of this visit to headquarters, he shrugs his shoulders. "I knew it would be that way," says he. "They've got me, and I've got to stand for it. No use askin' Quigley. You might as well go home." "But at least you can get away long enough to have dinner with us," says mother. "Nothing doin'," says Wilfred. "Can't get out unless Quigley signs a pass, and he won't." "Oh, come!" says I. "He don't look so bad as all that. Let me see what I can do with him." Well, after I'd chased the ladies back to the hotel with instructions to wait hopeful, I hunts up Top Sergeant Quigley. Had quite a revealin' chat with him, too. Come to look at him close after he'd washed up, he's rather decent appearin'. Face seems sort of familiar, too. "Didn't you play first base for the Fordhams?" I asks. "Oh, that was back in '14," says he. "As I remember," says I, "you was some star on the bag, though. Now, about young Bliss. Case of mommer's pet, you know." "He had that tag all over him," says Quigley. "But we're knockin' a lot of that out of him. He's comin' on." "Good!" says I. "Would it stop the process to let him off for an evenin' with the folks--dinner and so on?" "Why, no; I guess not," says Quigley. "Might do him good. But he must apply himself. Send him along." So a half hour later I sat on a cot in the cow-barn and watched Wilfred, fresh from the shower bath, get into his army uniform.