"I'll tell you, right now, I hain't got any respect for them tin-soldiers," retorted Bunny defiantly.
"That will be all, Hepburn. Get out of here!"
With that the proprietor turned on his heel, leaving the cook's domain. Bunny was white with wrath. He tried to talk to some of the other employes present, but none of them paid any attention to him.
No effort did young Hepburn make to get his street clothes until the head waiter brought him back an envelope containing his wages.
"I'll remain here until I see you get out," remarked the head waiter coldly.
"You may wait a long time," sneered Bunny.
"No, I won't. If you're not out of here in a hurry I'll help you through the back door."
Not until then did Bunny Hepburn realize that he was actually discharged.
"Get out now," ordered the head waiter, looking as if he would be glad of an opportunity to help the discharged one through the back door.
"Oh, all right. I'll git," snarled Bunny Hepburn, thrusting on his hat and slouching out through the door. "But I'll get even with that cheap Army officer in short order!"