etails of his martial career.

For the big war gave Hartley his chance, and he grabbed it as eager as a
park squirrel nabbin' a peanut. He'd been hangin' on here in the bond
room for five or six years, edgin' up step by step until he got to be
assistant chief, but at that he wasn't much more'n an office drudge.
Everybody ordered him around, from Old Hickory down to Mr. Piddie. He
was one of the kind that you naturally would, being sort of meek and
spineless. He'd been brought up that way, I understand, for his old man
was a chronic grouch--thirty years at a railroad ticket office
window--and I expect he lugged his ticket sellin' disposition home with
him.

Anyway, Hartley had that cheap, hang-dog look, like he was always
listenin' for somebody to hand him something rough and would be
disappointed if they didn't. And yet he was quick enough to resent
anything if he thought it was safe. You'd see him scowlin' over his
books and he carried a constant flush under his eyes, as if he'd been
slapped recent across the face, or expected to be. Not what you'd call a
happy disposition, Hartley; nor was he just the type you'd pick out to
handle a bunch of men.

All he had to start with was a couple of years' trainin' as a private in
one of the National Guard regiments. I suppose he knew "guide right"
from "left oblique" and how to ground arms without mashin' somebody's
pet corn. But I don't think anybody suspected he had any wild military
ambitions concealed under that 2x4 dome of his. Yet while most of us was
still pattin' Wilson on the back for keepin' us out of war Hartley had
already severed diplomatic relations and was wearin' a flag in his
buttonhole.

When the first Plattsburg camp was organized Hartley was among the first
to get a month's leave of absence and report. He didn't make it, being a
little shy on the book stuff, besides lacking ten pounds or more for his
height. But that didn't discourage him. He begun taking correspondence
courses, eating corn meal mush twice a day, and cutting out the smokes.
And after a four weeks' whirl at the second officers' training camp he
squeezed through, coming out as a near lieutenant. Old Hickory Ellins
gasped some when Hartley showed up with the bar on his shoulders, but he
gave him the husky grip and notified him that his leave was extended for
the duration of the war with half pay.

And the next we heard from Hartley he was located at Camp Mills drillin'
recruit companies. T