clerk, an assistant clerk, a stenographer, and two ordnance sergeants
looked after the red tape. An overseer with four subordinates and a
gang of negro stevedores attended to loading and unloading boxes,
storing them, counting out articles for issue or receipt, and such
other duties as they were called on to perform. There was an old
janitor named McGee, a veteran of the Civil War, whose business it was
to look after the sweeping and keep the floors clean.

Four guns in their original boxes were issued to the detachment on the
27th of May. They were new, and apparently had never been assembled.
On assembling them it was found that the parts had been constructed
with such "scientific" accuracy that the use of a mallet was
necessary. The binder-box on the pointing lever was so tight that in
attempting to depress the muzzle of the gun it was possible to lift
the trail off the ground before the binder-box would slide on the
lever. The axis-pin had to be driven in and out with an axe, using a
block of wood, of course, to prevent battering. A truly pretty state
of affairs for a gun the value of which depends on the ease with which
it can be pointed in any direction.

Inquiry after the war at the factory where the guns are made disclosed
the fact that these parts are rigidly tested by a gauge by the
Government inspectors, and that looseness is regarded as a fatal
defect. Even play of half a hundredth of an inch is enough to insure
the rejection of a piece. The very first thing done by the Gatling Gun
Detachment, upon assembling these guns, was to obtain a set of
armorers' tools and to file away these parts by hand until the aim of
the piece could be changed by the touch of a feather. The detachment
was ordered to rely upon the friction clutches for steadiness of aim,
when necessary, and not upon the tight fit of the parts. It was