were reckoned unusually fortunate. When a box of good things came in for anybody, the others would gather around, hoping for a share.
One day a small box came in for the second lieutenant, and was carried to his tent, to be opened in private.
"We won't get any of that," said one of the privates, a young man from Poland. "Mac's an officer now."
"Yes, but he's not the one to go back on his old friends," answered another. "You ought to know that as well as I."
"Ordinarily, yes; but we haven't had anything but bacon and hardtack for a week now, and I reckon he's as crazy for some good things as any of us," returned the first speaker.
By this time a little group had formed around those who were talking. They were all men from Poland, Niles, and the vicinity, who had known McKinley for years. Would he keep all his good things to himself, or would he "divide up," as had been his habit when in the ranks?
Presently one of the soldiers saw him come to the door of his tent and beckon
