Uncle Sam's Boys as Lieutenants: or, Serving Old Glory as Line Officers

"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.

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.

"You may wait a long time," sneered Bunny.

"No, I won't. If you're not out of here in a hurry I'll help you through the back door."

Not until then did Bunny Hepburn realize that he was actually discharged.

"Get out now," ordered the head waiter, looking as if he would be glad of an opportunity to help the discharged one through the back door.

"Oh, all right. I'll git," snarled Bunny Hepburn, thrusting on his hat and slouching out through the door. "But I'll get even with that cheap Army officer in short order!"