eer crowd."

"Humph! A fellow who can jump like that would jump right out of the
service at the first breath of trouble," broke in another soldier.

"He'd desert," agreed a third.

"Walk on your hands?" queried Hyman.

Hal proved that he could do so by throwing his heels up into the air and
taking a dozen steps on his hands before he again came to an erect
attitude.

"Brains are all in your heels," remarked Private Hyman thoughtfully.
"Can you pick that man up and carry him around on your back?"

The soldier indicated weighed at least a hundred and sixty pounds.

"I'll try," nodded Hal. Backing up to the soldier, he locked elbows,
back to back, lifted the heavy one to his back and carried him twenty
feet down the squad room.

"Any fellow with all that strength in his back would get his back up at
trouble, and back out of any fight that came his way," declared Private
Hyman. "But see here, can you place your head on one chair and your feet
on another, stiffen your body and lie there without touching the floor
in any way."

"Let's see," proposed Hal. Two chairs were quickly swung forward. Hal,
who had good muscular control, took the attitude named, stiffened his
body, and lay between the chairs for some moments.

"He lies well and easily," observed one of the onlookers.

"Yes," agreed Private Hyman. "He's easily the champion liar of the
company."

At that Hal sprang to his feet again.

As he did so he accidentally pushed one of the chairs over backward. It
was close to the door, which, at that instant, opened. The flying chair
struck the incomer across his shins, bringing an angry exclamation from
the man.

"Don't you know anything, rook?" demanded the man, Private Bill Hooper.
Hooper stood five feet ten in his socks. He was just under thirty, a man
who was not popular in the company because of his unruly temper.

"I'm sorry," apologized Hal. "I didn't know you were there."

"You'll be sorrier, now," cried Hooper fiercely. Striding up to young
Overton, Hooper landed a sound box on one of the boy's ears.

Hal flushed crimson in an instant.

CHAPTER XV

PRIVATE BILL HOOPER LEARNS

"HOLD on, Hooper!"

"Don't act like a dog!"

"He's only a kid--can't you see?"

Then something happened like lightning.

Private Hal Overton had meant to take all his hazing good-humoredly. But
a blow struck in anger, and without just cause, was more than he was
prepared to brook.

"Sergeant Gray told me I