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Pfeiffer
included, through the window. They were not hurt, and within two
hours they were drinking more beer together and swearing at one
another endearingly. I concluded that I had better go on, though
Mr. Pfeiffer regretted that he never paid his hands in the middle
of the month. It appeared afterward that he objected likewise to
paying them at the end of the month, or at the beginning of the
next. He owes me two days' wages yet.


CHAPTER III
I GO TO WAR AT LAST AND SOW THE SEED OF FUTURE CAMPAIGNS

At sunset on the second day after my desertion of Pfeiffer I walked
across a footbridge into a city with many spires, in one of which
a chime of bells rang out a familiar tune. The city was New Brunswick.
I turned down a side street where two stone churches stood side by
side. A gate in the picket fence had been left open, and I went in
looking for a place to sleep. Back in the churchyard I found what
I sought in the brownstone slab covering the tomb of, I know now,
an old pastor of the Dutch Reformed Church, who died full of wisdom
and grace.


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