roy
the Ninety-ninth.

No quiet days, however, were in store for the regiment.

CHAPTER VIII

WITH THE CONSCIENTIOUS OBJECTORS

"No other business, Sergeant?" asked Dick, one October morning,
as he looked up from the desk in company office at his "top."

"Among the nineteen National Army men drafted into this regiment,
sir, are three conscientious objectors who ask to be transferred
to some non-fighting branch of the service."

"Send for them," ordered Dick briefly, a frown settling on his brow.

Privates Ellis, Rindle and Pitson speedily reported in the office,
saluting, then standing at attention.

"You men are all conscientious objectors?" Prescott asked coldly.

"Yes, sir," said the three together.

"You all have conscientious objections to being hurt?" Prescott
went on.

"I have conscientious scruples against killing a human being, sir,"
replied Private Ellis.

"And you also have scruples against giving him a chance to kill
you," Dick went on mercilessly. "You believe in a police force
for preserving order in a community, do you?"

"Y-yes, sir."

"If you found a burglar in your home, and had an opportunity, you
would send for a policeman?"

"Yes, sir," Ellis admitted.

"Even though you knew the policeman might find it necessary to kill
the burglar in attempting to arrest him?" Prescott quizzed.

"Yes, sir."

"Then, while you presumably would not kill a burglar yourself you
would not object to calling a policeman who might do it?"

Private Ellis began to suspect the trap into which he was falling.

"I could not bear to kill the burglar myself, sir," he replied.

"And you would not want the burglar to kill you, so you would
summon a policeman to do whatever killing might be necessary.
In that case, are you a moral objector to killing, or are you
merely a coward who relies on another to do the killing for you?"

Private Ellis appeared much confused.

"Answer me," Dick commanded.

"The case doesn't seem the same to me, sir, as serving as a fighting
man in the war."

"The case is exactly the same, except in the matter of magnitude,"
Prescott retorted. "Germany is the burglar, trying to break into
the house of the world. You haven't time necessary courage to
fight a German yourself, but you will be glad to see a braver man
serve on the firing line in your stead. And you are a conscientious
objector, too, are you, Rindle?"

"I---I thought I was, sir," confessed the soldier.