e that of the enlisted
men, save that officers' mess was provided with heavy crockery,
while in the company mess-rooms the men ate from aluminum mess-kits.

Most of the food was already in place on the table. The meal
began with a lively hum of conversation. Occasionally some merry
officer called out jokingly to some officer at another table;
there was no special effort at dignified silence.

"The K.O. has our number!" exclaimed an irrepressible lieutenant.

"How so?" demanded Noll Terry, Prescott's first lieutenant.

"He knows us for a bunch of shirkers, and so he gave us the 'pep'
talk this morning."

"Is the 'pep' going to work with you?" asked Noll laughingly.

"Surely! I wouldn't dare be slow, even in drawing my breath,
after hearing the K.O. talk in that fashion."

"Same here," Noll nodded.

"I've been working sixteen hours a day ever since I hit camp," chimed
in another lieutenant. "What's the new system going to be? Eighteen
hours a day?"

"Twenty, perhaps," said Greg's first lieutenant cheerfully.

The meal had been under way for fifteen minutes when Captain Cartwright
entered leisurely.

"I suppose you fellows have eaten all the best stuff," he called,
as he looked about and found a vacant seat, though he paused as
if in no great haste to occupy it.

"Same old Cartwright," observed Greg, in an undertone to Dick.
"He's late, even at mess formation."

But Cartwright heard, and wheeled about, looking half-angrily
at young Captain Holmes.

"Say, Holmes, you're as free as ever with your tongue."

"Yes," Greg answered unconcernedly. "Using it to taste my food,
and I've been finding the taste uncommonly pleasant."

"You use your tongue in more ways than that," snapped Captain
Cartwright. "I happened to hear what you said about me in Prescott's
room a few minutes ago."

"Eavesdropping?" queried Greg calmly.

"What's that?" snapped Cartwright, and his flush deepened. "See
here, Holmes, I don't want any trouble with you."

"That shows a lively sense of discretion," smiled Greg, turning
to face the other.

"But I want you to stop picking on me. Talk about somebody else
for a change!"

"With pleasure," nodded Greg, as he shrugged his shoulders and
turned to drop a spoonful of sugar in his second cup of coffee.
"There are lots of agreeable subjects for conversation in Camp
Berry."

"Meaning---?" demanded Cartwright, still standing, and scowling,
for, out of the corners of his eyes, h