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As they halted thus the lieutenant again be- gan to bellow profanely. Regardless of the vin- dictive threats of the bullets, he went about coaxing, berating, and bedamning. His lips, that were habitually in a soft and childlike curve, were now writhed into unholy contortions. He swore by all possible deities. Once he grabbed the youth by the arm. "Come on, yeh lunkhead!" he roared. "Come on! We'll all git killed if we stay here. We've on'y got t' go across that lot. An' then"--the remainder of his idea disappeared in a blue haze of curses. The youth stretched forth his arm. "Cross there?" His mouth was puckered in doubt and awe. "Certainly. Jest 'cross th' lot! We can't stay here," screamed the lieutenant. He poked his face close to the youth and waved his ban- daged hand. "Come on!" Presently he grap- pled with him as if for a wrestling bout. It was as if he planned to drag the youth by the ear on to the assault. The private felt a sudden unspeakable indig- nation against his officer. He wrenched fiercely and shook him off. "Come on herself, then," he yelled. There was a bitter challenge in his voice. They galloped together down the regimental front. The friend scrambled after them. In front of the colors the three men began to bawl: "Come on! come on!" They danced and gy- rated like tortured savages. The flag, obedient to these appeals, bended its glittering form and swept toward them. The men wavered in indecision for a moment, and then with a long, wailful cry the dilapidated regiment |