Uncle Sam’s Boys as Lieutenants: Serving Old Glory as Line Officers E-Book

H. Irving Hancock

• Herausgeber: Bauer Books
• Kategorie: Für Kinder und Jugendliche
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2018

Beschreibung

Uncle Sam’s Boys as Lieutenants: Serving Old Glory as Line Officers

By H. IRVING HANCOCK

Leseprobe

Harrie

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Table of contents

CHAPTER I THE LETTER FROM THE WAR DEPARTMENT “WHEW, but it’s hot here!” grumbled Sergeant Noll Terry, of the United States Army.

“That’s an odd complaint to hear from a young man who served so actively for two years in the tropics,” laughed Mrs. Overton, a short, plump, middle-aged matron.

“Well, Mother, it is a hot day,” put in Sergeant Hal Overton quietly.

“Yes, it is,” agreed Hal’s mother, “though you two, who came from the Philippines the very picture of health can’t feel the weather today much. New Jersey isn’t in the tropics.”

Hal’s mother said that with an air of finality. Her son and his chum had been through the most strenuous forms of active army service in Uncle Sam’s colonial possessions, the Philippine Islands. If they could endure the heat in that tropical belt, even that day’s broiling weather at home must seem cool by comparison.

“I suppose you have an idea, Mother, that the nearer you go to the equator the hotter the weather gets.” “Well, isn’t it so?” challenged Mrs. Overton.

“It may be, as far as actual degrees of heat are marked off on the thermometer,” explained Sergeant Hal. “But I’ll stick to it, Mother, that the average of weather that we struck in the Philippines was not nearly so disagreeable as the weather is here to-day.”

“That’s so,” nodded youthful Sergeant Terry, with emphasis. “I don’t understand that,” replied Mrs. Overton, looking a good deal puzzled.

“I don’t pretend to understand it, either, Mother,” Hal continued. “But it’s a fact that there are very few spots in the actual tropics that seem so disagreeable as are New York City and some places in New Jersey in the heated terms of July and August.”

“That astonishes me,” declared Mrs. Overton. “I have always supposed that, the further south one goes in summer, the hotter one finds it. So New York City is hotter in summer than the tropics?”

“It seems hotter,” Sergeant Hal affirmed.

The boys were more or less inclined to joke Mrs. Overton, because, while there are many pleasant days in the tropics, particularly near the coast, the weather is for the most part undeniably hot and oppressive.

“Anyhow,” remarked Noll, philosophically, “the hardest thing we have to do here is to walk a short distance down the street and buy another ice cream.”

“I’d rather be working,” retorted Hal quickly. “I’d rather be doing anything than lying idly around like this!”

“Henry!” cried his mother reproachfully. She was sure to be hurt or angry when she addressed him so formally. “Don’t you care anything about being at home, after you’ve been away from us for more than three years?”

“Of course I care about being home, Mother,” Sergeant Hal made haste to rejoin, as he rose, went over and kissed her. “But I don’t believe you can gain a hundredth of an idea as to the suspense Noll and I are under at present. When we get our orders from the War Department we’ll know—one way or the other.”

“Oh, you’re safe enough for your commission as second lieutenant, Hal,” Noll broke in. “I only wish I felt half as safe for myself as I do for you.”

“It doesn’t seem fair that you shouldn’t both get your commissions as second lieutenants,” murmured Mrs. Overton. “You’re both certain that you passed your final examinations at Fort Leavenworth.” “We’d both get our commissions, Mother, if there were vacancies enough. However, this year fifty-nine young soldiers passed their final examinations, and there are only forty-two vacancies to be filled from the ranks. Consequently, seventeen of us——”

“It isn’t fair,” broke in Mrs. Overton, with all a mother’s logic where her son is concerned. “All of you who passed ought to be appointed officers in the Army.”

“Seventeen of us won’t be,” sighed Hal.

Ever since their first enlistment Hal and Noll had been imbued with the ambition to rise from the ranks, and become officers. This promotion from the ranks is not as simple a matter as young people might gain from reading the stories of some misinformed authors who know nothing of actual military service. The enlisted man who would rise from the ranks must first of all be sure that his military record is fine and clean, and that his reputation for coolness and bravery is firmly established. But this is only the beginning for the ambitious soldier in the ranks. He must study almost incessantly, for, when his turn comes to be promoted to a second lieutenancy, he must be fitted to take a stiff academic examination and pass it with credit. That examination, in Sergeant Noll’s grim description, “is enough to make a college professor’s hair turn gray.” There is no easy way of rising from the ranks to become an officer.

Hal and Noll, following the method provided by law, had gone up for their preliminary examinations in the Philippines. Both had succeeded in passing, though Noll was much nearer the bottom of the list than his chum. Then, a good many months later, both young sergeants had been ordered home from the Philippines, that they might undergo their final examination for commissions. As they were “up” for commissions in the infantry arm of the service, these two youthful soldiers were sent before a board of Army officers at Fort Leavenworth. In the interval between the examinations both young soldiers had studied harder than ever. They believed that they had passed these final examinations in July. They had then been ordered to their homes to await the action of the War Department. It was now well along in August. “You haven’t either one of you appeared on the street in your Army uniforms since you returned home,” remarked Mrs. Overton, presently. “Noll, why don’t you put on your uniform to-night and bring your mother over here? Then Hal can put on his uniform and you can both take your mothers out this evening. Don’t you suppose that, when American women give their sons up to the Army, these same women like once in a while to be seen in public with their sons in uniform?”

“Why, yes, we can do that, of course, Mrs. Overton,” Noll agreed readily. “But wouldn’t you rather wait a few days and see if we don’t obtain the right to wear officers’ uniforms?”

“That won’t happen in ages,” declared Hal’s mother warmly. “Every one over in Washington is sound asleep during these hot days. Mrs. Terry and I will have to wait until winter if we must wait to see you both put on lieutenants’ uniforms.”

“I’m horribly afraid that my mother will have to wait even longer than that,” sighed Noll. Tr-r-r-r-rill! sounded a shrill whistle up the street. “I wonder if he’s coming here?” murmured Mrs. Overton nervously. Tr-r-r-rill! “Overton!” sounded the postman’s voice. “Oh—young Overton!” Hal fairly bounded out of the little parlor, through the short hallway, and pulled the front door open.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Colton,” was Hal’s almost shaky greeting. Hal had known this postman ever since the young soldier had been a boy in his first trousers.

“Good afternoon, Hal,” rejoined the postman. “One letter—for you. I’ll be back to ask you about it to-morrow morning.”

Hal stood in the doorway, almost dazed. It was a long, officiallooking envelope that he held in his hand. Up in one corner he made out the words, “War Department—Official Business.” Then, still clutching the envelope, Hal walked unsteadily back into the little parlor.

“By George—he’s got it!” almost shouted Noll. “What’s—what’s the real word, Hal?” Noll was now standing on his feet, actually trembling. Mrs. Overton fairly flew to her son. “What is it, Hal? What’s the answer?” she demanded, in a shaking voice that was but little above a whisper.

“It’s—it’s addressed, ‘Lieutenant Henry Overton, U. S. A.,’“ replied Hal, turning the envelope so that his mother might read. But a sudden rush of mist to her eyes made the letters blur.

“Whoop!” let out Sergeant Noll. “Hal, you’ve won out!” “Why don’t you open the envelope?” asked Mrs. Overton tremulously. “I’m afraid I’m almost too dizzy to think of anything,” answered Hal in a strained voice.

For answer his eager mother snatched the envelope from his hands, caught up her sewing scissors from a table, and held the envelope up to the light.

“Now, take out your letter, Hal, as quickly as you can, and let us know what it says,” commanded Mrs. Overton.

Hal withdrew the letter from the envelope. It was from the adjutant general of the Army, stating that Hal had passed the examinations and that the President had just appointed him, ad interim, a second lieutenant of infantry in the United States Army.

“Now, what’s the meaning of that awful ‘ ad interim’?” demanded Mrs. Overton. “Why, you see, Mother, Congress isn’t in session just now——” “I don’t see what that has to do with——” “Why, Mother, officers are appointed by the President, and——” “And it’s none of Congress’s business!” “All appointments to commissions in the Army and Navy, Mother, are made by the President, subject to the approval of the Senate——” “I just knew there was some string to it all,” cried Mrs. Overton.

“As a matter of form the Senate has to approve. But the Senate rarely ever refuses to confirm the President’s full list of appointments for the Army and Navy.”

“Tell me this, Hal: Is there a bootblack at the Capitol in Washington?” “I—I think it very likely that there is at least one, Mother.” “Then we’ll find out that the bootblack has to be consulted, too, my boy, before we’re at all sure that you’re really an Army officer.” “Oh, no, Mother,” laughed Hal. “I feel just as sure, at this moment, that I’m a second lieutenant in the Army as I shall ever feel.” “I—I hope so,” sighed his mother. “But I—well, I’m afraid I don’t trust any one in Washington any too thoroughly.” Hal laughed heartily. He had got over the first electric shock of the news, and was happy enough now to laugh at anything.

“Noll, I hope you——” began Mrs. Overton, overflowing with generosity. “Why—where is—what has become of that boy? He was here a moment ago!”

It was certain enough now that Noll Terry was nowhere about. “Mother,” said Hal wisely, “you needn’t look for Noll. He’s beating a nine-second sprint to his own house.” “He didn’t need——”

“Don’t you understand? Noll is traveling hot-foot to his own roof to see if the postman on that route has left a long envelope for him.” “Poor boy! I hope he has won his commission, too,” sighed Mrs. Overton, wistfully.

“Oh, I think he has.” “He’s a nice boy.” “Mother, he’s one of the very best fellows in the world.” “I suppose Mr. Ad Interim will have a lot to say about Noll’s commission, too,” said Hal’s mother. “ Ad interim is Latin, Mother. It means ‘in the time between,’ or something like that.” “Oh,” smiled Mrs. Overton. “I didn’t know but Ad was the bootblack at the Capitol.” “I feel like running right after Noll,” murmured Hal.

“Don’t you dare do it, my son. Don’t you feel that I’ve any right to my boy’s company in the first moments that such good news has come to him? Hal, I’m thinking how you’ll look in your new uniforms— ad interim. Will you order a uniform at once?”

“No; I rather think I won’t.” “Why!” demanded Mrs. Overton, eagerly. “Mother, you may think me reckless, and over-confident. But the fact is, I’ve already been measured for my new uniforms.” “When? And when will they be here?” “Do you remember the big mahogany chest that I brought with me from the Philippines, Mother?” “Yes.” “Well, the whole outfit of uniforms is packed in that chest.”

“Henry Overton—you take me right upstairs and unlock that chest—this instant!” “Come on, Mother!” Hal called back, gayly, as he darted out of the parlor and up the front stairs.

“And they’ve been here all this time,” panted the mother, as her officer-son brought out his key-ring and fumbled at the lock of the mahogany chest. “And you—you—you told me the chest held clothes of yours.”

“Well, that wasn’t a lie was it, Mother?” Hal threw up the lid and lifted out a tray. “Now, wade into ‘em. Look ‘em over to your heart’s content. Here’s the dress sword. Isn’t it a beauty?”

Gripping the scabbard with his left hand, Hal drew out the handsome blade with a flourish.

“Ugh! I don’t like it, except to look at,” shuddered his mother. “I hope my son will never have any need to cut up a fellow-being with that sword.”

“Hardly likely,” chuckled Hal. “An officer carries only a cane or a stick of some sort just in order that he may point out the location of the enemy, or to indicate some tree on the other side that he thinks has a sharp-shooter up among the foliage, and, of course, he wears his heavy service revolver.”

“And an officer never leads a charge, flourishing his sword?” “Hardly. The officer would be in too much danger from the bullets of his own men if he got in front of them.”

“Then an officer isn’t in so very much danger, after all,” guessed Mrs. Overton, speaking in a tone of relief. “Some one in front of him will stop the bullets.”

“No one man can stop a bullet that’s going under full steam, Mother. At two or three hundred yards’ range, to-day, a bullet will pass through six or eight men in succession, if there are that many men in its path.”

“I—I guess I don’t want to hear any more of that kind of stuff,” shivered the little woman. “It all sounds—awfully dangerous!” But Hal’s mother was not idle. With the deft fingers of a woman she was lifting and laying out the handsome uniforms one by one.

“Here’s the one I want you to wear when you go out with your father and me this evening,” she said, holding up the full-dress uniform.

Hal laid down the sword he had been examining, stepped over and placed an arm around his mother’s waist.

“Mother, dear, I’m afraid you don’t understand. An officer, when away from troops and duty, rarely wears his uniform in public. It would be looked upon as a foolish piece of vanity on his part.”

“But you wore your sergeant’s uniform when you first came home.”

“All I can say, Mother, is that the two cases are different. One of these days you’ll understand just why an enlisted man goes off post in uniform, and an officer, when away from his duties, ordinarily wears citizen’s dress. But here’s one uniform, Mother, that I can wear at home in hot weather.”

He lifted two garments from near the bottom of the box. “Why, that’s only a set of tennis flannels,” objected his mother. “It’s part of an officer’s prescribed uniform, just the same,” Hal assured her. “But there’s no gold lace, no braid, no shoulder-straps—nothing.” Mrs. Overton’s voice quivered with disappointment.

“Here’s the red sash that goes with the trousers,” smiled Hal, bringing to light the article he had named. “That gives the suit quite a gay and military appearance, as you’ll soon see.”

“It doesn’t look like much more than any clerk might wear,” remarked Mrs. Overton, doubtfully.

“It isn’t meant to. This flannel undress is intended for an officer to wear when he doesn’t want to look conspicuous among civilians. I’ll go to my room and put it on presently, and then I think you’ll like it a whole lot better.”

“Maybe,” said Mrs. Overton doubtfully.

“All this time,” pursued Lieutenant Hal, “I’m wondering whether Noll had found a letter waiting for him at his home, and whether his news was as fine as mine.”

“You up there, Hal?” called a voice from below—Noll’s. “Charge!” yelled back the young lieutenant.

Up the stairs very sedately came Noll Terry. His appearance proclaimed the story. He was wearing the tennis flannel undress, red sash and all. CHAPTER II

BUNNY HEPBURN UP TO OLD TRICKS “CONGRATULATIONS, old chum!” cried Hal Overton, striding across the room and holding out his hand. The two friends joined hands in a fervent clasp. “Yes; I got my letter, and the news was satisfactory,” said Noll, in a queer, half-choking voice. “A letter from Mr. Ad Interim?” asked Mrs. Overton, making a little face.

“Why, that’s the only sort of an appointment that a fellow can get in summer, when there’s no Senate in session, Mrs. Overton,” Noll replied. “But it’s all right. The Senate never heard of either of us, and so the Senators won’t have anything against us. We’ll get our commissions, all right, soon after the next Congress convenes. Our commissions are safe enough.”

“Quite,” agreed Hal. “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell Mother.” “A new second lieutenant is only a shave-tail, at best,” smiled Noll. “What does that mean?” demanded Mrs. Overton quickly. “I don’t know,” Noll replied. “It’s just an Army term of derision for a very new young officer, I guess.” “And a second lieutenant soon becomes a ‘goat,’“ Hal added. “That isn’t a nice word,” retorted Mrs. Overton. “It’s slang!”

“It’s worse than slang in the Army,” laughed Hal. “The army ‘goat’ is the very new officer who has a lot of extra duties thrust upon him that the older officers don’t want. Those duties of the ‘goat’ are generally both very trifling and very annoying.” “Then it isn’t right,” declared Hal’s mother, with an air of conviction. “No one ought to annoy a young man who has been smart enough to make an officer of himself. What are a second lieutenant’s duties?”

“Well,” replied Noll quizzically, “for one thing he must see that every one of his colonel’s eight pairs of boots are kept polished.” “Oliver Terry!” remonstrated Mrs. Overton. “And see to it that the grass is kept mowed on the colonel’s lawn,” added Hal.

“A new second lieutenant is expected to relieve the colonel’s wife’s nurse-girl in taking care of headquarters’ kids on Wednesday and Saturday afternoons——” continued Noll.

“Also groom the colonel’s horses,” added Hal. “I don’t believe a word of that,” declared Mrs. Overton, whereat both very new young officers laughed heartily.

“And you’re starting in badly, too,” continued Hal’s mother accusingly. “I happen to know this much—that an officer must have too much honor to stoop to telling lies. And that he’s court-martialed and driven out of the service if he does. So be careful.”

Hal soon excused himself, going to his own room, leaving Noll to entertain his mother. When Lieutenant Overton came back he was in his flannel undress, red sash and all.

“That doesn’t look so very bad, after all,” declared Mrs. Overton, viewing her erect, stalwart young son with an approval which she made no effort to hide.

Then they talked on until at last Lieutenant Noll glanced at his watch.

“I must be going,” he said, rising. “I’ve overstayed my leave. Mother allowed me to leave her only long enough to run over and tell Hal the news. I’ve violated my parole already.”

“What time is it?” inquired Mrs. Overton. “A quarter to six!”

“And, good gracious!” cried the little woman, jumping up from her chair. “Hal, in a few minutes more your father will be home, and not a blessed move has been made toward supper. There’s no time to get anything ready now. Hal, I shall have to send you around the corner to the delicatessen shop, although I hate such ready-made meals.”

“Mother,” demanded Hal, with a pretense at mild astonishment, “would you think of sending a commissioned officer in the United States Army around on errands, with packages to bring home?”

“I—I guess that wouldn’t be just right, would it?” agreed Mrs. Overton. “Never mind, my boy. I’ll run right around myself. It will take me some time to get used to all the dignity that goes with your new position.”

“You needn’t bother to go, Mother,” laughed Hal. “An officer who would let his mother run errands to save his own dignity would be sure to come to a bad end in the Army. I was only joking, of course. This is a day to celebrate, so I propose to ask you and father to dine out this evening. There are several good places in town.”

“Which one do you prefer?” broke in Lieutenant Noll quickly. “Ralston’s,” Hal replied. “There’s music there, and the food and service are fine.” “Then I’ll hurry home now and bring my folks up there, too, if I can,” proposed Noll. “Good!” agreed Hal. “What hour, Mrs. Overton?” asked Noll, turning to that good woman. “Ask Hal.” “In the Army it is customary to ask the ladies, Mother,” Hal explained.

“Seven o’clock, then,” said Mrs. Overton. “Seven it shall be,” nodded Noll. “That is, if I don’t fail in coaxing Father and Mother out to dine.”

“You won’t fail,” Mrs. Overton assured him. “They’ll be proud enough to go out with you to-night.”

Hal’s father came home soon after. For years a clerk in one of the local stores, Mr. Overton had lately been promoted to be manager of the store. He was a quiet, thoughtful, studious man, and would probably have gone much higher in the world had not years of ill health interfered with his ambitions.

“I don’t need to tell you how glad I am, young man,” said the elder Overton quietly, when he had heard the afternoon’s news. “Nor am I going to offer you any parental advice. Your record in the Army, so far, makes me feel sure that you will go on in the way you have begun, and that your record, at any point, will have been an honorable one. And now I must leave you and go upstairs to put on my best clothes in honor of the distinction that has come upon my son.”

Just before seven the Overtons were seated at a table in Ralston’s locally famous restaurant. Noll and his parents arrived at about the same moment. But the news had flown ahead of the young men. Just as the party was seating itself the orchestra crashed out into the strains of “See, the conquering hero comes!”

“I suppose that’s meant for a joke on us,” grinned Lieutenant Noll, in an undertone.

“Then try to look unconscious,” returned Hal, in an equally low voice, and immediately engaged Noll’s father and mother in conversation.

There was some whispering between waiters and patrons of the place, and presently a light sound of applause rippled out. It soon became a steady salvo.

Still the two young lieutenants went on with their chatting. But the leader of the orchestra had a further surprise. Giving his men only a moment for rest, he once more waved his violin bow, and the musicians started in with “The Star-Spangled Banner.”

No soldier may ignore that splendid air; no citizen has a right to. As the strain died out the young soldiers and their party re-seated themselves, going on with their chat again. A waiter dropped two menu cards on the table, then stood waiting for the order. “Won’t the ladies select the dinner?” asked Hal. “We’d prefer that our sons do that,” smiled Mrs. Terry. “You do it, then, Hal,” directed Noll Terry. “I left my spectacles at home.” “What about officers and their duty to tell the truth?” chided Mrs. Terry, whose heart was full of joy and pride to-night.

“I’ll amend my statement,” replied Noll meekly. “I didn’t bring my spectacles with me. But Hal ought to do the ordering, anyway. He always did. He was my ranking sergeant, and now he’s my ranking lieutenant.”

“We don’t know that yet,” objected Hal quickly. “We don’t yet know anything about the order in which we passed.” “In the meantime,” hinted Mr. Overton, “the cook’s fire is running low.” So Hal turned his attention to the menu card, ordering with a free hand. “Gracious! How many do you think there are at this table, young man?” demanded his mother.

“There are six of us,” Hal answered. “But we can take hours in which to finish the meal, if we want to. Ralston’s doesn’t close until midnight.” The waiter, having received the order in silence, shuffled off without a word.

Hal and Noll had risen promptly, though gravely and without haste. They bowed their acknowledgment of the congratulations. “We don’t know, madam,” Hal replied courteously. “We are still in ignorance as to our orders.” Hal glanced at his mother, who offered no reply, but glanced back at her son. “Then you will accept for yourself and friends, won’t you, my dear Mrs. Overton?” asked Mrs. Redding, again turning to Hal’s mother. “I—I am very much afraid that we can’t go to-morrow afternoon,” replied Mrs. Overton slowly. “But that doesn’t give me any more social consequence. I’m just the same woman that I always was,” objected Mrs. Overton sensibly. “I don’t want new friends of that sort,” remarked Hal’s mother quietly. “My dear, you’ll have to be very agile if you expect to dodge all such new friends,” laughed Hal’s father. “I guess our waiter doesn’t like us very well,” half-grumbled Lieutenant Hal. “Very likely,” nodded his father. “Of course you recognized the waiter.” “I can’t say, sir, that I did.” “The waiter is Bunny Hepburn, more than three years older than when you last saw him,” replied Mr. Overton. “That’s the man, and Bunny is a half-worthy son of the sire, I hear,” replied Mr. Overton. “Here comes Bunny now,” announced Mr. Terry. Bunny appeared, setting bread and butter on the table, distributing knives, forks and spoons at the places and filling the water glasses. “You needn’t think you’re running this restaurant,” sneered the waiter. “By no means,” Hal agreed. “But we are at least paying for our food, for attendance and civility.” “You’ll get all the attendance you’re entitled to,” grumbled the waiter. “Don’t think you own the earth. Soldiers are no good.” “A lot of people entertain that opinion,” Hal answered quietly, turning his back on the impudent waiter. This was almost word for word a copy from the anarchistic speeches of Bunny’s father. Lieutenant Hal’s face went white as he wheeled once more in his chair and rose quickly. “Are you being properly served?” inquired Mr. Ralston, who had learned who this young guest was. “Thank you very much. Will you tell me what the waiter said?” Hal repeated the words accurately. “Yes, sir,” replied Peterson, an older waiter. “Hepburn, I am told that you grossly insulted the Flag and the Army uniform.” “I didn’t,” retorted Bunny, “but I won’t allow any of them tin-soldier dudes to put it over me.” “I’ll tell you, right now, I hain’t got any respect for them tinsoldiers,” retorted Bunny defiantly. “That will be all, Hepburn. Get out of here!” No effort did young Hepburn make to get his street clothes until the head waiter brought him back an envelope containing his wages. “I’ll remain here until I see you get out,” remarked the head waiter coldly. “You may wait a long time,” sneered Bunny. “No, I won’t. If you’re not out of here in a hurry I’ll help you through the back door.” Not until then did Bunny Hepburn realize that he was actually discharged. Like some other inconsequential fellows of his class, Bunny was usually a man of his word in matters of revenge. CHAPTER III ROWDY VERSUS REGULAR AFTER a pleasant evening Hal and Noll escorted their parents homeward at somewhere around half-past ten o’clock. “Where shall we go?” asked Hal, as the chums met. “I don’t care,” Noll answered. “One set of streets will do as well as another.” “Tell you what we’ll do then,” offered Noll. “We’ll get a policeman to walk around with us and protect us from harm.” “Now let us have done with fooling for a little while, Noll. I remember something that Prescott was telling me once.” “ Prescott,” Terry interrupted quietly. “Prescott was telling me,” went on Hal, “of a great friend he and Lieutenant Noll Terry looked almost startled. “By Jove, I hadn’t thought of that,” he muttered. “To whom should such a request go?” “To the adjutant general of the Army, I imagine, since neither of us as yet belongs to any regiment or department.” “Won’t the adjutant general put us down as the two original, very cheeky shave-tails?” wondered Noll. “If you get up the paper I’ll sign it with you,” agreed Noll, without a moment’s further hesitation. “Imagine Bunny working!” jeered one of the crowd. “Here comes that soldier-loafer, Overton, now. And his friend with him.” “Now’s your chance to take it out, Bunny!” prodded one of the gang. By that designation Bunny referred to rioters. “Twelve,” replied another, “not counting Skinny Carroll.” “Skinny can work at his old game of lookout,” muttered Bunny. “Get busy, Skinny.” With a chuckle Skinny promptly turned and fled to the next corner, where he could watch four ways at once. Bunny’s companions found themselves committed to a new deed before they quite realized it. “Yah! yah!” he snarled. “Get me thrown out of me job, will you, you soldier-loafer!” “Hullo, it’s Bunny!” cried Hal, recognizing the speaker. “Yep! It’s me—Bunny Hepburn!” jeered the ex-waiter. “But you won’t know what your name is when I get through with you!” “Bosh!” rejoined Hal, rather impatiently. “Step aside. Don’t block the sidewalk. It’s broad enough for us all!” “You don’t sneak out of it that easy!” jeered Bunny. “Behave yourself, and let me by,” requested Hal Overton sternly. In self-defense Hal Overton was obliged to fend off the blow. But Bunny came back at him again. “Sail into the soldier-loafers!” called Bunny. In the crowd there were some hard-hitters, and the odds were tremendous. Hal Overton’s blood was up now, and he was dangerous. Watching his chance he let fly a blow that caught Bunny forcefully on the nose. “Get up, you cur!” ordered Hal. For a moment the members of the gang on Overton’s side of the fight seemed paralyzed. Gripping Bunny Hepburn by the collar, Hal dragged the fellow to his feet and instantly planted a blow that closed the other eye. “Now, you’ll stay put,” panted Hal breathlessly. “Come on, the rest of you hyenas, and we’ll walk through the whole crowd of you!” Down the street came a pair of flying feet. “Cop! cop!” yelled Skinny Carroll. “Duck and run!” “You seem to look just right to me,” grinned the policeman. “Hold your tongue,” commanded the policeman. Then, turning to Hal, he asked: “What’s the rights of this affair?” “If you’ll keep quiet long enough I’ll soon find out,” retorted the policeman. “Officer,” demanded the elder Hepburn, “do you know who I am?” “Yes; that’s why I want you to keep quiet,” retorted the policeman, with no great show of awe or respect. “But——” “Get back and keep quiet until I’ve had time to look into this thing!” blazed the policeman ominously. “Minion of the hireling law,” began the elder Hepburn, running his fingers through his hair and striking an attitude. “What’s this?” asked the chief. “We don’t care about pressing any charge, chief,” Hal added. “This crowd got punished enough as it was.” “One of them certainly did,” grinned Chief Blake, taking in the extent of damage done to Bunny’s countenance. “Chief, I insist that you arrest these two soldier-loafers!” cried Bunny hoarsely. “And I back up that demand!” added the elder Hepburn, with what he considered impressive dignity. There was trouble ahead, as the two Army boys discovered on awakening in the morning. CHAPTER IV A COURT OF INQUIRY ORDERED THERE were two morning newspapers published in the town; or, as some people put it, “one and a quarter.” As was to be expected, the attacked the two young officers, giving wholly the Hepburn version of the affair. “What talented liars there are in this world!” uttered Noll Terry, in high disgust. “Is anybody going to believe this rot?” insisted Noll. “Some one in the War Department might, not knowing the local reputation of the Hepburns.” “Well, the War Department will know, if it takes any action on these trumped-up, lying charges,” declared Lieutenant Noll hotly. “Of course we won’t lie down and tamely submit to such false charges,” agreed Lieutenant Overton. “Going out for a walk this morning?” Noll wanted to know. “I feel much more inclined to sit here and think this whole thing over,” Hal answered, pointing to the lying sheet. “Hal, if we stay indoors to-day the will have it to-morrow that we are overwhelmed with shame and fear, and have kept in hiding.” “Then we’ll take our choice and do as we please,” remarked young Terry. “Come along out.” Hal got his hat, and the chums went forth, again in their tennis flannel undress. “Three,” corrected Hal. “How do you make that out?” “One crowd believes the charges against us, and another doesn’t. The third crowd isn’t sure, or doesn’t care.” “One fellow I’m after, anyway,” muttered Noll grimly. “Who’s that?” “Sayles.” “Who’s he?” “Don’t you know?” “I’m afraid I can’t recall a party named Sayles,” Hal answered thoughtfully. “Why, he’s the pen-hoister who gets out the !” “Oh, well, what are you going to do to him, Noll?” “I’m going to make him prove all he printed in his lying sheet.” “He can—with the aid of the kind of witnesses that he has back of him,” Hal reminded his chum. “Well, we shall have to see if the testimony of such witnesses will ‘go’ in court,” Noll contended grimly. “Are you going to prosecute the fellow?” “I’m going to sue Sayles for libel,” Noll retorted. “Is the fellow worth the trouble?” Hal inquired doubtfully. “Noll, I’m inclined to think you’re right.” “I know I am. Come along, down this street.” “Where now?” “I’m headed for the office of Lawyer Kimball. He’s the best man in town to handle our case.” “Good afternoon,” said Mrs. Redding, in a low voice. Hal lifted his hat gravely as the society woman hastened on. “She wasn’t as cordial as she was the other evening,” remarked Mrs. Overton dryly. “Old friends are always believed to be the best,” murmured Hal. “You see, Noll, the Hepburns are going right through with their ‘case,’“ observed Lieutenant Overton. “So are we,” retorted Noll, pursing his lips. “And the best crowd will win.” The mayor offered the court the use of one of the council chambers at the city hall, and the offer was accepted. “We shall soon know,” remarked the , “what the national government’s idea of justice is. The culprits face their ordeal to-day!” At nine o’clock that morning, in fact, Major Elbert, president of the court, rapped for order. CHAPTER V THE WAR DEPARTMENT SAYS ITS SAY Bunny and all his friends, under the coaching of a local lawyer, had proved themselves expert perjurers. The elder Hepburn was on hand. He tried hard to palm off one of his pet orations on the court, but Major Elbert shut him off sternly. Not one of Bunny’s crew told the truth. That wasn’t what they were there for. Chief Blake followed. “Do you know anything of the affray itself?” questioned Major Elbert. “Nothing,” admitted the chief. The Hepburn lawyer settled back in his chair with a dark look of satisfaction. “In what way, Chief,” queried the major, “do you feel that you can aid this court in arriving at a proper decision?” “I am here, sir, to testify, if desired, to the characters borne by the complainants and by the defendants.” “What do you know regarding any of the complaining witnesses?” inquired Major Elbert. “I object!” shouted the Hepburn lawyer, rising. “We object, may it please the court, on the ground that the chief of police is not qualified to express a competent opinion.” “We will hear what Chief Blake has to say,” decided the president of the court, “and we will pass on the value of his evidence later on.” “‘Bject!” snapped the lawyer. “Be good enough, sir, to sit down!” Chief Blake began his statement by explaining that the elder Hepburn had been for years a notorious local character—— “‘Bject!” shouted the lawyer. “Sit down, sir”—from the president of the court. “‘Bject!” Major Elbert’s manner was not that of the bully, or of one abusing brief authority. His voice was mild and soft, but he meant business. “Chief,” inquired the major softly, “what do you feel at liberty to say regarding the truthfulness of any of the complaining witnesses?” “To that question, sir, I have no hesitation whatever in saying ‘yes.’“ “Have you any more evidence to offer, Chief?” “I have two witnesses outside, sir, whom I think you would like to hear.” “Will you send for them?” “Then, on that night, and at the time of the fight, you did act as lookout for young Hepburn and his friends?” asked Major Elbert. “Sure,” agreed Skinny readily. “Who told you to act as lookout?” “Bun Hepburn himself!” “‘Bject!” shouted the Hepburn lawyer. The sergeant moved over and laid a hand on the attorney’s shoulder. “Just before de gang closed in,” declared Skinny. “Closed in—for what?” “T’ soak Overton and Terry.” “Then the gang did deliberately combine to waylay and attack Lieutenant Overton and Terry?” “Surest pipe you ever lit,” affirmed Skinny Carroll, in the only style of speech of which he was master. The next morning the published the letters and congratulated the Army boys. “But you can attack public officers in the press,” retorted Sayles. “Five thousand dollars is a nice little pile,” remarked Noll, when the Army boys had been summoned to their attorney’s office. “Too bad you can’t send the donations in Sayles’s own name,” laughed Lieutenant Hal. A SEND-OFF FROM THE “SPHERE” HAL OVERTON came into the parlor, a few days later, to find his mother studying a pair of visiting cards. “Mr. and Mrs. Redding,” Hal read from the pasteboards. “Shall you return their call, Mother?” “I don’t believe I shall. But you have something there to show me?” “Yes; I met the postman on the street, and he handed me a letter— from the War Department.” “Your orders?” “Yes, Mother.” “What regiment? Where are you to be stationed?” asked Mrs. Overton eagerly. “Which question shall I answer first, Mother?” the Army boy queried, half-teasingly. “Your station!” “Fort Butler.” “Where on earth is that?” “In Texas, on the border.” “And some of my first savings as an officer will go to pay your fare, Mother. But you don’t seem interested in the regiment, after all.” “Well, which regiment is it?” “The Thirty-seventh Infantry, Colonel Wheatman.” “Would you rather have gone to the Thirty-fourth?” “For many reasons, much rather. But I’m contented to go wherever Uncle Sam sends me. That’s the only right way for a soldier to feel.” “And the last bit of my news, Mother, is that I am to report for duty with my new regiment on September fifteenth.” “All in the soldier’s game. But it won’t be long before you’ll be coming out to visit me.” “You don’t have to with married women, I hope?” “Is the whole regiment stationed at Fort Cutler?” “You’re going around to Noll’s?” “Does Mr. Ad Interim have anything to with ?” demanded Mrs. Overton. “I believe not,” laughed Hal, then vanished through the doorway. Noll had received his orders just before Hal arrived. Lieutenant Terry was also ordered to Fort Butler. “We’ve got several visits to make, and very little time in which to do it,” decided Noll. It is difficult, indeed, to keep the press from learning all that is happening. The next morning the contained this paragraph: AN OLD FRIEND IN A NEW GUISE “What can I do for you, gentlemen?” he asked. “Is Major Tipton at headquarters?” queried Hal. “Yes, sir.” “Will you take our cards in to the major if he is not too busily engaged to receive them?” The sergeant glanced at the uppermost card, on which was printed, from engraved script, in the regular form for officers’ cards: “Henry Overton, U. S. Army.” “At once, gentlemen,” replied the sergeant. “Will you be seated!” “Major Tipton wishes you to step inside, gentlemen.” Hal and Noll presented themselves by name. “We have looked up everything we could find about Fort Butler, sir,” Noll answered. “You are both bachelors, I understand.” “Yes, sir,” assented Hal. “We are wholly free from engagements in that line, sir,” Noll laughed. “We are wholly at your orders, sir,” responded Hal. Calling up the quarters of Captain Goodale, Major Tipton said: Major Tipton then called up Captain Foster, informing him that Mr. Overton would call upon him at two o’clock that afternoon. “Now, where is your baggage, gentlemen? At the station, I suppose.” “Yes, sir.” “I will send for one of the battalion quartermaster sergeant’s men to take your checks and have your baggage up here without delay.” A private soon entered, received the baggage checks of the young officers and departed. “Now, come along, gentlemen,” invited the major, reaching for his uniform cap. “I will take you over to your quarters at once.” “There’s room enough here, sir, to start married life in,” smiled Lieutenant Overton. “Have you that bee buzzing about you?” asked the major, giving him a keen glance. “Not in the least, sir.” Both young officers saluted as their commander withdrew. “Now we’ve got to hustle,” admonished Hal. “We’ll have a lot to do.” “I’m busy,” affirmed Noll, rising and making for the door to go to his own quarters. Hardly had the door closed when a knock came. Another knock could be heard at Noll’s door. “Come in,” called Hal, and a young private entered, saluting. “Major Tipton arranged with me to serve as your striker, sir, until you make some other arrangement,” reported the soldier. “You’ve come at just the right moment, then,” answered Hal. “Your name?” “Ellis, sir.” “Very good, Ellis. Unpack my trunk and bags in the bedroom. I’m going into my bath.” “Very good, sir.” Private Ellis arose, standing at attention. “Lieutenant Terry is nearly ready, sir,” reported Noll’s striker. Noll soon came out, presenting a striking sight in his brand-new, finely fitting uniform. “I can’t rid myself of the notion that I’m liable to arrest by the guard,” laughed Noll as the chums made their way down the stairs. “Why?” asked Hal. “For daring to masquerade in an officer’s uniform,” grinned Noll. “You’ll get used to it soon,” replied Hal. “You haven’t been an enlisted man all your life, you know.” “I was nearly caught that time,” admitted Terry, in an undertone. “Watch, out, chum. It’s a grave matter, as you well enough know, for an officer to overlook a soldier’s salute.” Three more soldiers passed them, but Noll was looking now, and fully alert to bring his own hand up to his cap. Major Tipton was waiting for them inside. There were two other officers present—First Lieutenants Johnson and Sears. Soon there were sounds of others entering the hallway. Then a voice was heard, declaring firmly: Now three more officers stepped into the room. “——is duty, and it should always be spelled with a capital ‘D,’“ finished the speaker earnestly. Noll got a glimpse of that speaker. It startled him so that he drew back, muttering: “For the love of Mike! It’s our old Algy.” “Er—ah—yes,” agreed Mr. Ferrers, but it was plain that his memory had deserted him as to Hal’s face. “Terry and I were sergeants at Fort Clowdry, Mr. Ferrers,” Hal continued. “Oh, I remember you now, of course,” cried Algy heartily, but a slight flush mounted his cheeks at mention of Fort Clowdry. Then Noll was presented to his brother officers. Major Tipton withdrew, going to his own quarters just as luncheon was announced. CHAPTER VIII AT THE OFFICERS’ CLUB “WELL, it seems good to see old faces once more,” said Algy, turning to the two new “youngsters,” as younger officers are termed. “Then you’ve seen real service?” asked Algy Ferrers enviously. “Yes; as much as the Moros could give us,” nodded Noll. “Truth to tell, it was hard enough fighting to suit amateurs like us.” “We didn’t see you there in July,” said Hal. “No; in June I was ordered to this regiment.” Algy spoke so plaintively that all the officers at table laughed. A somewhat incredulous laugh from trained officers greeted this assertion. A shout of genuine laughter greeted this reminiscence. “Did Colonel North let you get away with that?” demanded Lieutenant Johnson. “It’s tough at Leavenworth,” assented Brisbane. “I put in a year there once.” “Leavenworth certainly made a good soldier of you, Ferrers,” put in Sears. “I don’t know a harder-working officer than you are to-day.” “Thank you,” came from Algy. “But that seems hard for you to believe, doesn’t it, Overton?” “From the past, Ferrers, yes; but not from what I see of you now, or from what I heard you saying as you came into the club.” “You can’t keep many automobiles on that,” smiled Noll. “I don’t have to,” retorted Algy. “I haven’t been in an auto, except under orders, since I left Clowdry for Leavenworth.” “Why?” Noll wanted to know. By this time the meal was over. Some of the officers had begun to smoke, those who did not use tobacco, lingered over their coffee. Lieutenant Pratt drew a pasteboard box from an inside pocket, took from it a cigarette, lighted it and lay the box beside his plate. “You might be good,” put in Hapgood, “and pass me a cigarette.” “I don’t see that I smoke, then, as there’s no waiter in the room,” sighed Hapgood, with an air of comic discontent. “Why, you used——” began Hal. Algy halted suddenly in his speech. “ ” chorused half a dozen others. “Tell us, do,” coaxed Pratt. “We don’t hold you responsible, Ferrers. We’ll charge the jolt up to the old officer you mentioned.” “What did you say to him?” “You two used to be clean young fellows, with no cigarettes in your pockets,” continued Ferrers, turning to Hal and Noll. “We don’t smoke yet,” answered Terry. Brisbane, the ranking officer present, arose, and the others followed. “Thank you; I’m ready.” “What’s all that nonsense Ferrers gives us about the old days when he was such a rookie from civil life?” inquired Lieutenant Sears. “It’s all true enough,” Hal answered. “Ferrers was a mighty goodhearted fellow——” “He is now,” interposed Sears. “And Captain Foster’s is the next beyond,” stated Lieutenant Sears. CHAPTER IX ORDERED TO FRONTIER DUTY “Yes, sir.” “Very good, sir.” “That is all I have in the way of instructions. Wait, and I’ll see if I can find Mrs. Foster. I want you to meet her.” “When that time comes, Mrs. Foster,” the young officer answered, “you will be giving me the greatest happiness that can come to me.” “You forget one thing, my dear,” interposed the captain. “And what is that?” questioned Mrs. Foster. “You forget the Mexican rebels.” “Those barefooted, half-starved ragamuffins!” cried Mrs. Foster. “ can have nothing to do with our plans here at the post.” “What do you think, Overton, about the chances of that rebellion?” “By the use of the troops, I suppose,” replied Mrs. Foster. “No!” Hal’s eyes gleamed. “You seem to like the prospect, my boy.” “I do, sir. Active service always appeals to me.” Hal took his leave, returning, light-footed, to bachelor quarters. There he found Noll, returned before him. “Nothing but parade for me to-day, Noll,” Hal called to his chum. “Same here,” rejoined young Terry, opening his door. “May I come across into your house a little while?” “Fine,” nodded Noll. “Major Tipton appears to be just the right sort of commanding officer.” “Mr. Sears,” asked Hal, going over to his first lieutenant, “can you spare me a little time after dinner?” “Easily, Overton. You want to ask me about the routine duties, I imagine.” “Yes. Captain Foster has ordered me to full duty beginning with tomorrow.” “Then we’ll find seats in the reading room after dinner. It won’t take very long to give you the schedule and the inside ropes.” “Just before we started west we read that their transport had arrived at San Francisco,” answered Noll. “Mexican border troubles?” asked Lieutenant Hapgood. “Yes.” “Except,” remarked Sears dryly, “that it is the province of the United States, not of a single state, to preserve neutrality at the border.” “I don’t suppose Terry or myself will have the luck to be picked for this sort of border patrol work, if it comes,” suggested Hal. “Probably you’ll be kept on post until you’re more accustomed to your men,” nodded Lieutenant Hapgood. “Either way will suit me,” said Noll. “I don’t expect to have my pick of anything until I’ve served a few years more.” “You won’t have it then either,” laughed Sears. “Thank you,” acknowledged Hal. “We don’t have to go to bed, since we added swords to our equipment,” laughed Noll. “No; but we had better turn in. We have as much work to do as any of the enlisted men.” “Who is it?” called Hal, throwing on a bathrobe and going toward the hall door. Then, as Hal and Noll both opened their doors, the soldier added: ON THE SCENE OF BORDER TROUBLE THE speed with which a soldier can dress, and do it tidily, would astonish the average civilian. “Come right in, gentlemen,” called Major Tipton, from the rear office. Lieutenant Brandon, battalion adjutant, was already with his chief. Then the orders were made clear. “Very good, Major.” “Very good, sir.” “Sergeant Klein, you will also look up your missing ones,” directed Captain Foster soon returned, having satisfied himself that work with the escort wagons was progressing rapidly. “All the men of my platoon are out, sir, and ready to move,” Hal reported, saluting. “All my men ready, too, sir,” Noll added. A few minutes later three escort wagons, each well laden and hauled by a team of mules, came out on to the road. “Let your men fall in. Hold separate roll calls. Report as soon as ready,” directed Captain Foster. The two platoons, drawn up in one rank with a slight interval between, were soon in readiness. “March your platoons,” called Captain Foster. “F company, fours left, march,” ordered Noll. “H company, fours left, march,” followed Hal. “Give the men the route step, now,” murmured Captain Foster, going past Hal up to the head of the line. “Route step, march,” ordered Lieutenant Hal. In another moment the men of the leading platoon had also fallen into the route step. “We’ll march four miles to the first halt,” said Captain Foster, falling in beside Noll. “It seems a pity, doesn’t it, sir, for us to have to interfere in such matters?” asked Lieutenant Hal. “But the case never is reversed,” smiled Hal. “What did the people of Texas think of that, sir?” Captain Foster laughed. “But you’ll find a lot of long, shallow boxes stored in Pedro Guarez’s stable, if what I’ve heard is right,” added one of the truckmen. “Look like rifle cases, do they?” inquired Captain Foster. “That’s what I judge from what I’ve heard. Mexican teamsters have been bringing in the cases for the last three nights.” “Where is the barn of this fellow, Guarez?” LIEUTENANT HAL’S SWORD GUARDS THE DOOR “I know a little of the kind that I learned in the Philippines,” Hal answered. “You may be able to understand the Mexican patter, then. But don’t let them know that you understand it.” “You g’way!” snarled one of them in a surly tone. “Where’s your master, Pedro Guarez?” demanded Captain Foster. “Dunno. He far away. G’way. I wanta close this door.” “Here,” he cried, in good English, though he panted as he reached the barn, “you must leave. You have no right here!” “Only Pedro Guarez can tell me that,” retorted the captain. “But I am Pedro Guarez.” “I shall not answer, if you do. Get out! You have no right here!” “Then get a policeman, and get him here to arrest me,” smiled the captain. “I cannot say that it will be safe,” retorted Guarez, with an expressive shrug of his shoulders. “Safe?” echoed Captain Foster sternly. “That’s a question that an “And you’d better stop all that talk of fighting, too,” warned the captain. “Come, if you want to go through with me.” Just then about a score more of excited Mexicans poured into the yard. “You see,” cautioned Guarez. “You will stir up a lot of trouble, Señor Capitain.” The Mexican hesitated, for an instant. But he saw Captain Foster walk toward the haymow. “Come on, my friends!” cried Guarez. “You, too, shall see what this too-officious soldier dares to do here!” But the Mexicans pressed against him, scowling and shaking their heads as though to imply that they did not understand. “Get back, every one of you,” insisted Lieutenant Hal. “You know well enough what I am telling you.” “Now, your distance,” warned the Army boy, coolly returning his sword to its scabbard. Again Hal Overton comprehended, but he glanced, in cool inquiry, at the speaker as that fellow stepped forward. “I won’t argue that with you,” the young lieutenant answered steadily. “Will you stop?” howled the Mexican, advancing upon the man in uniform. “No,” returned Foster briefly. “I’m here on business.” “Come in, my friends!” howled Pedro Guarez. “Never mind the young tailor’s model at the door.” The Mexicans outside heard, and the appeal frenzied them. Four or five started toward the barn-door, the rest closing in behind them. Swish! Lieutenant Hal’s sword was again in the air. “Who wants to come first?” demanded the Army boy dryly. Captain Foster tossed and threw hay with a will until he had uncovered a compact pile of small packing cases. “There are no rifles there, nothing with which to make war,” snarled the fellow. “I accept your statement, with reservations,” replied Foster dryly. “Even though they were rifles, the United States law does not forbid one to buy or sell guns,” insisted the Mexican. “No; but it does forbid your shipping them over the border,” rejoined the captain. “But I have not attempted to ship anything over the border.” Captain Foster turned and left the mow, followed by the owner of the place. “Sure,” nodded the cowboy. “Will you do me the very great favor of taking a note to the officer in command at the camp?” “Sure,” nodded the cowboy, with the same brevity. Captain Foster hastily wrote the note, handing it to the man in saddle. “Yes.” “Then look out, or some of the Greasers will play jack-knife with you. They’re just aching for trouble, Cap.” “Very good, sir.” “They have guns enough there, Mr. Overton, but we’ve spiked ‘em.” “But I suppose, sir, that the Mexicans may have other rifles at other points not so far from here.” “That we shall learn, Mr. Overton, as soon as we can. We shall also watch the river.” There was, however, as Foster guessed, other and grimmer work yet ahead of the military. CHAPTER XII THE STEP OF THE STEALTHY ONE BY noon the soldiers at camp found themselves well rested. Nearly all of them had had some hours of sleep. “When will you sleep, sir?” Noll ventured to ask. At the evening meal, just before dark, Captain Foster remarked: “Are there any steam craft at this point, sir?” inquired Lieutenant Hal. “Nothing of the sort, Mr. Overton.” “That’s worth thinking of,” muttered the captain, looking thoughtful. “A boat engaged in such secret work would probably also take the risk of running without lights.” “That, sir, will depend on how far apart our guards are to-night, or on such other night as the Mexicans may make the attempt.” “Now that our troops are here they may make no attempt,” hinted Noll. After some thought Captain Foster wrote a telegram, entrusting it to a corporal to take over to the village. “I shall keep every sense on the alert, sir.” “The fish can get through the net without the least trouble,” thought the young officer. It was still, dark and quiet out here on the river front. There were no lights, and seemingly none astir except the soldiers. “Very good, sir,” replied Corporal Dent.