where.

The big sergeant, whose name they learned was Martin, brought the
entire eighteen together immediately after the meal, and they joined a
score of others who had arrived a few days before. All were then marched
to another building, where their instructions began, and they were
informed that before night they would be uniformed.

This was welcome information, indeed. To get into the uniform of Uncle
Sam! Every young man in the group breathed a little deeper and drew
himself up a little straighter at the thought.

We will not trace Joe, Jerry and Slim through their initial instruction,
for it had lasted less than an hour, when an orderly hastily entered the
room, saluted the officer who was acting as instructor, and then talked
to him for a moment in an undertone.

The officer's countenance underwent a curious change. Finally he turned
toward the youths before him.

"Are there any men here who are already telegraphers?" he asked.

Instantly Joe, Jerry, and two others arose, while Slim tried to, but had
great difficulty getting himself out of the small, school-child's sort
of desk at which he was seated. Finally he managed it by sliding out
sidewise, the way he had entered, instead of attempting a direct upward
rise.

"How many of you can use the international code?" the officer continued.

Thanks to good old Burton, Joe, Jerry and Slim were as familiar with
that as they were with the Morse American code. The other two men
resumed their seats. Sergeant Martin had entered the room. Apparently he
was not at all displeased to find the three polite young men whom he had
addressed earlier in the day, now able to show greater capabilities than
the other men in the detachment.

"You are excused from further instruction here at this time," the
officer announced to the trio. "You will accompany Sergeant Martin for
further orders."

And they hurried from the room with the non-com., who they instinctively
knew was their friend.

What was this new experience that lay before them? They were not long in
learning, and the information almost carried them beyond the restraints
of good discipline and to the indulgence in three ripping good cheers.

Sergeant Martin could be a hard taskmaster when it was necessary to be
so, but, like the headmaster of Brighton, he did not believe in needless
red tape, nor did he delude himself that the stripes upon his sleeve
made him a better man--except in official authority--than the o