While Lefty worked alongside of Steve, washing his first plane, he bent over to dip his brush in the pail of water and as he did so, the leather wallet carried in his back pocket slipped to the ground, the owner being unawares of its loss.
Steve bent over and, unnoticed by Lefty, picked up the wallet, taking from the inside a newspaper clipping. Opening the almost faded paper, his eyes beamed upon the telltale headline: “Lefty Phelps reminds us of Lindbergh—he’s so different!”
Instantly, Steve recognized the caption and Lefty’s forgotten identity as his face became illuminated with malicious glee. Brandishing the clipping in the air, he called to the other recruits working near by: “Hey, fellows! Look who’s here!”
Lefty looked quickly in Steve’s direction, discovering his lost wallet in the man’s hand but, before he could act, the others had formed a circle around them.
“Look who we have with us,” Steve continued, pointing to Lefty. “The guy that ran——”
He got no further than that. In a flash, Lefty made a lunge at the man, shrieking: “Give me that paper—it’s mine—give it to me, hear!”
A short distance off, Panama and Elinor, strolling by, talking idly, were interrupted by the scuffle and cries of men’s voices over by the plane.
Panama became infuriated with rage as he gazed upon his raw recruits already engaged in a brawl that was attracting the attention of every other Marine on the field.
In a flash, the sergeant became galvanized into action and turning to Elinor, begged leave of her society. She smiled sympathetically and in a moment, Panama was on his toes, running in the direction of the young riot.
Refused his own property, Lefty made a mad rush at Steve, knocking the weaker man to the ground and pouncing upon him.