"Why, Ferrers is called one of the worst grinds in the service," laughed Lieutenant Hapgood. "Overton, I know it to be a fact that Algy Ferrers, for the last year, has been returning all the remittances that his father sent him. Algy simply wrote back that, by the time he had his day's work done, he was too tired to go out and spend money." "Well, why not?" challenged Algy. "A second lieutenant is paid seventeen hundred dollars a year. To my way of thinking that's all an honest, hard-working young fellow ought to be allowed to have." "You can't keep many automobiles on that," smiled Noll. "I don't have to," retorted Algy. "I haven't been in an auto, except under orders, since I left Clowdry for Leavenworth." A wonderful change had come about in the case of Algy Ferrers. Hal and Noll felt like pinching themselves to see if they would wake up. "Every younger officer, nowadays, has to put in two or three spells of study at the Service Schools," continued Algy, turning to the two newest members of the club. "It does 'em a lot of good, too. You'll run up against it one of these days, without a doubt. If you've any angles the Service School will rub 'em off. They try to be kind to you at Leavenworth, Terry. One of their plans, there, is to give you time for eight hours' sleep, but you can't always connect. All the rest of the time is working day. Why, I've gone to my quarters at Leavenworth so tired out at night that I've sat down in a chair for a moment, to try to rest a bit before undressing. Then my eyes would close, and the next thing I'd know it would be daylight--and I'd slept all night in my chair with my clothes on. That's no fanciful picture either." Algy finished plaintively. "A married man is in huge luck at Leavenworth, if he has a good wife." "Why?" Noll wanted to know. "Because the poor student officer can usually depend upon his wife to wake him in time to shave before the next day's grind begins. You will know all about it when your turn comes to be detailed at Leavenworth." By this time the meal was over. Some of the officers had begun to smoke, those who did not use tobacco, lingered over their coffee. Lieutenant Pratt drew a pasteboard box from an inside pocket, took from it a cigarette, lighted it and lay the box beside his plate. "You might be good," put in Hapgood, "and pass me a cigarette." "Had I known that you wanted one, Hapgood, you'd have had this one," explained Lieutenant Pratt apologetically. "It was the last one in the box." "I don't see that I smoke, then, as there's no waiter in the room," sighed Hapgood, with an air of comic discontent. "Try Ferrers," advised Hal. "He never moves anywhere with less than a hundred cigarettes about him." "I?" demanded Algy, wheeling, a flush mounting to his cheeks and temples. "Not guilty, I'm glad to say." "Why, you used----" began Hal.