"But at least, my dear," suggested Hal's father, "you will be visiting your son at his post one of these days, and he may also urge you to bring some of your women friends." "I certainly shall," Hal agreed. "And Mrs. Redding may feel that she would like to be one of the invited," continued the elder Overton. "So, my dear, you see that you will become of social consequence. Others than Mrs. Redding, who have never even bowed to you before, will now be calling on you." "I don't want new friends of that sort," remarked Hal's mother quietly. "My dear, you'll have to be very agile if you expect to dodge all such new friends," laughed Hal's father. Since Hal had given the order the orchestra had played several numbers. All of the little dining party were now becoming rather impatient for dinner. "I guess our waiter doesn't like us very well," half-grumbled Lieutenant Hal. "Very likely," nodded his father. "Of course you recognized the waiter." "I can't say, sir, that I did." "The waiter is Bunny Hepburn, more than three years older than when you last saw him," replied Mr. Overton. "Bunny Hepburn? The son of that anarchist who spouts about man's rights in beer-gardens?" questioned Hal. "Hepburn the man who is always trying to start strikes and labor riots?" "That's the man, and Bunny is a half-worthy son of the sire, I hear," replied Mr. Overton. "Here comes Bunny now," announced Mr. Terry. Bunny appeared, setting bread and butter on the table, distributing knives, forks and spoons at the places and filling the water glasses. "Will you bring the first course of our dinner right along now, waiter?" Hal asked pleasantly. "When I can," came the half surly reply. "You'll have to wait your turn with the other customers." "We expect to do that," Hal agreed, without resentment. "But we've been waiting about forty minutes now, and many others have been served who came in since we did." "You needn't think you're running this restaurant," sneered the waiter. "By no means," Hal agreed. "But we are at least paying for our food, for attendance and civility." "You'll get all the attendance you're entitled to," grumbled the waiter. "Don't think you own the earth. Soldiers are no good." "A lot of people entertain that opinion," Hal answered quietly, turning his back on the impudent waiter. All might still have gone well, had Bunny been content to drop it there. But, as readers of the first volume in this series, "UNCLE SAM'S BOYS IN THE RANKS," are aware, Bunny had been bred in contempt of the military and of everything connected with it. "You soldiers are nothing but just a lot of cheap skates," Bunny muttered on bitterly. "You wear a uniform that is nothing but the cheap livery of slavery to the wealthy, and march under a flag that stands for nothing but tyranny to the poor and down-trodden of humanity." This was almost word for word a copy from the anarchistic speeches of Bunny's father.