"I'll run these soldier-loafers in, Bill," agreed the policeman. "We've got too many of these soldier-loafers in the country. It's time for some of 'em to learn something." For Bill and his friend were a pair of amateur thugs who were most useful to the ward's ruling political machine. Bill and his friend were often extremely useful in cleaning out hostile primaries, and in other dirty work incidental to city politics. "Officer!" protested Corporal Hal. "Shut up, ye loafer!" ordered the policeman. "But this is----" "Will ye shut up, now?" The policeman gave the soldier boy a vigorous shaking. "The soldiers were in the right of it, Johnson," protested a voice in the crowd. "Now, can yer gab, or I'll run you in, too," warned Johnson hoarsely. At that dread warning opposition died out in the weak-kneed crowd. "Now, come along, ye young loafers in brass buttons," commanded the policeman. "Bill, you and your friend be in court in the morning." "Sure we will," chuckled Bill. "Officer, will you let me explain?" insisted Hal, as the two young corporals started down the street on either side of the policeman, who kept a rough grip on the arm of either. "Pickle it, and tell it all to the judge in the morning," retorted the policeman gruffly. Some of the crowd--Bill's friends, evidently--followed, hooting and abusing all soldiers in general. Four blocks away Hal and Noll were lined up before the officer in charge at a station house. "Assaulting Bill Dabner and his friend and insulting Bill's girl," announced Policeman Johnson gruffly. "I hope now, sir, we can have a chance to explain," protested Hal, looking squarely at the officer behind the desk. "Did you see all this business, Johnson?" asked the officer at the desk. "Yes," lied the policeman glibly. "I caught 'em at it." "You men can save your explanations for the judge in the morning," wound up the officer at the desk. "Cell number twelve, Johnson." Down below the cell door clanged on two white-faced, angry young soldier boys. It was a serious thing, they knew, for ambitious soldiers to have a clash with the civil authorities. "We'll lose our corporal's chevrons through this," Noll predicted. "Yes," assented Corporal Hal Overton, his eyes flashing. "But I can't help it if we do. It's worth that price to be a man!" CHAPTER XXII TWO YOUNG CORPORALS SEND OUT THE "C. Q. D." When the two young corporals had had time to cool down somewhat, Hal made a racket on his cell door until a house policeman came to see what was wanted. "Will you bring me paper and an envelope?" Hal asked. "Want to make your will, I suppose," jeered the policeman. "No; I intend to write a note to my company commander." "Is he out at camp?" "Yes." "Who do you think is going to take the note out there?" "Call a messenger boy, and I will pay him for going out there," Corporal Hal replied. "I don't believe the lieutenant at the desk will do it," returned the policeman.