Lieutenant Hal's face went white as he wheeled once more in his chair and rose quickly. Mrs. Overton had a momentary notion that her son was going to knock Bunny down, and she wouldn't have blamed him if he had. But Bunny quailed somewhat before the blazing light in the young Army officer's eyes. "Stand back, waiter," ordered Hal quietly. Then, looking very tall and dignified, Lieutenant Hal stepped across the restaurant, going over to the desk, where the proprietor stood chatting with the cashier. "Are you being properly served?" inquired Mr. Ralston, who had learned who this young guest was. "Not especially. I have no personal complaint to make against the waiter, but I shall feel greatly obliged if you can send us a different man to wait on us." "With pleasure," replied Mr. Ralston promptly. "But you will be doing me a genuine service, Mr. Overton, if you will tell me in what way the present waiter has offended you." "He didn't offend me personally," Hal replied quietly, "but he spoke disrespectfully of the Flag I serve, and the uniform I am proud to wear." "Thank you very much. Will you tell me what the waiter said?" Hal repeated the words accurately. "I will send you another waiter, Mr. Overton, and will see to it personally that you are not again annoyed. I thank you for having reported the matter to me." Hal returned to his seat. Bunny had already vanished behind the swinging doors at the rear. Mr. Ralston followed him out into the cook's domain. "Peterson, I want you to wait on Mr. Overton's party," called Mr. Ralston, whereat Bunny started slightly. "And, Peterson, I want you to serve and attend to their wants in your best style." "Yes, sir," replied Peterson, an older waiter. "Chef," continued the proprietor, "you will see to it that the delayed dinner for the Overton party is served ahead of anything else, and in your best style. Hepburn, come here!" Bunny approached, a defiant scowl on his sulky face. "Hepburn, I am told that you grossly insulted the Flag and the Army uniform." "I didn't," retorted Bunny, "but I won't allow any of them tin-soldier dudes to put it over me." "Your present language sufficiently justifies the charge made against you," replied Mr. Ralston quietly. "This restaurant is intended as a resort for ladies and gentlemen, and all right-minded persons respect our Army and Navy and those who serve their country." "I'll tell you, right now, I hain't got any respect for them tin-soldiers," retorted Bunny defiantly. "That will be all, Hepburn. Get out of here!" With that the proprietor turned on his heel, leaving the cook's domain. Bunny was white with wrath. He tried to talk to some of the other employes present, but none of them paid any attention to him. No effort did young Hepburn make to get his street clothes until the head waiter brought him back an envelope containing his wages. "I'll remain here until I see you get out," remarked the head waiter coldly.