"Say, that kid corporal downstairs knows all his rights," declared the house policeman admiringly to the lieutenant, after the messenger had departed unmolested. "He'll forget a large part of what he knows, after he's been before the judge in the morning," replied the lieutenant, lighting a cigar. "Soldiers, as well as citizens, can be punished, and Johnson has a clear case against that pair of soldier kids." For the next two hours Hal and Noll took turns pacing back and forth within the narrow confines of the cell in which they had been thrust. "I guess we're not going to hear anything to-night," muttered Hal disappointedly at last. "Noll, we may as well get some of the sleep that's coming to us." Young soldiers accustomed to sleeping on the ground did not find it extremely hard to get to sleep on the hard wooden benches. More than that, they contrived to get a pretty fair rest before they were awakened in the morning by a station-house trusty who thrust two chunks of bread and two tin cups of coffee into the cell. "Get that down and be ready to go to court," called the trusty as he passed along. Breakfast eaten, the two young corporals had a lot more time on their hands before a squad of policemen came downstairs and began to busy themselves with marshaling the prisoners and driving them toward a basement door. Here, mingled with the scum of the city, in the persons of other prisoners, two unoffending young soldiers of the United States Army were forced to enter the dark interior of a covered wagon. A steel door was slammed into place and locked and the ride began. In a few minutes they were let out, superintended by a guard of other policemen, and driven into another basement. Here, in a dark, dingy, foul-smelling room, this batch of prisoners was herded with those from other police stations. A lot of time passed. Occasionally court policemen came into the room, selected more prisoners and drove them out toward a stairway. At last it came the turn of Corporals Hal and Noll. They were taken from the room, up an iron staircase, and then pushed into the pen of a police court. "Henry Overton and Oliver Terry!" called a clerk. "There's yer cue," announced a gruff court policeman, pointing to the two young soldiers. He conducted them to the front of the pen where they stood facing a police magistrate. The clerk announced the charge against them, then ordered wearily: "Prisoners, hold up your right hands. You do solemnly swear----" The two young corporals had been duly sworn to tell the truth. "Where's the arresting officer?" demanded Judge Guffey. Policeman Johnson came forward, held up his hand and was sworn.