“Humph! I know all about that. Those who are in favor with the fellows higher up get all the plums, and the rest of the poor dubs can whistle.”
“I don’t believe that at all, Nat. I’ve been over here now since the middle of last summer, and so far as I can see, promotions have been only according to merit. Of course, here and there a person who doesn’t particularly deserve it may get ahead, but that is the exception to the rule. Most of the men who have gotten honors have well deserved them.”
“Humph! you’ll never make me believe that, Dave Porter. I know too much about such things. I know that money talks, for one thing. I think I might have had a lieutenancy if my old man would only have shelled out enough money. But you know how tight he is—just as tight as the bark on a tree.”
“What did he say when you were drafted, Nat?” questioned Dave, with pardonable curiosity.
“What did he say? What could he say? I was drafted, and that was all there was to it. You knew my sentiments when you were in Crumville. Didn’t you break up one of my peace meetings—a meeting I had a perfect right to hold?”
“I deny that you had a right to hold that meeting, Nat. However, all of that is now past and gone. You’re in the army, and it is your duty to do the best you can for Uncle Sam.”
“Oh, I’ll do my duty—don’t you fear about that, Dave Porter. I’m just as patriotic as anybody. But, at the same time, I claim I have a right to be patriotic in my own way.”
“Well, you let me give you a little advice, Nat,” was Dave’s earnest comment. “The fellows over here in France are rather serious-minded, and they won’t stand for any nonsense. If they get the least intimation that you are any kind of a slacker, they’ll come down on you like a ton of bricks.”
“I don’t need your advice!”
“Very well then, Nat; I won’t say another word.”