IN THE SHADOW OF DISMISSAL.
The rest of that day passed without incident. Mark managed after a good
deal of trouble to postpone Texas' hunting trip; and the two struggled
on through the day's drills disconsolately, waiting to see what would
happen next.
Evening came, and the plebes being lined up in barracks area the roll
was called, the "orders" read, and then the reports of the day. The
cadet who did the reading rattled down the list in his usual hurried,
breathless style. But when he came to M he paused suddenly; he gazed at
the list incredulously, then cleared his throat, took a long foreboding
breath and began:
"Mallory--Late at roll call.
"Same--Laughing loud in ranks.
"Same--Bedding improperly arranged at A. M. inspection.
"Same--Broom out of place at A. M. inspection.
"Same--Remonstrating with superior officer at A. M. inspection."
And so the cadet officer went on, the whole plebe class listening with
open-eyed amazement while one charge after another was rattled off, and
gazing out of the corners of their eyes at the object of the attack, who
stood and listened with a look of calm indifference upon his face.
The list was finished at last, when the listeners had about concluded
that it was eternal; the rest of the reports were quickly disposed of,
and then: "Break ranks, march!" and the line melted into groups of
excited and eagerly talking cadets, discussing but one subject--the ruin
of Mallory.
Of course it was known to every one that this was simply one more effort
of the yearlings to subdue him; and loud were the threats and
expressions of disapproval. Mark's bravery in making a fight for his
honor had won him the admiration of his class, and the class felt that
with his downfall came a return of the old state of affairs and the
complete subjection of the "beasts" once more.
There were jealous ones who rejoiced secretly, and there were timid ones
who declared that they had always said that Mallory was too B. J. to
last. But in the main there was nothing but genuine anger at the upper
classmen's "rank injustice," and wild talk of appealing to the
superintendent to bring it to a stop.
The utter consternation of the seven allies is left to the reader's
imagination. After the first shock of horror had passed the crowd had
sat down and made a calculation; they found fifty-five demerits due that
day, which, together with ten previously given, left thirty-five to go,
and then--why it made them sick to think of what would happen!
Having striven to realize this for half an hour, they got together and
swore a solemn oath, first, that if Mark were dismissed, a joint
statement of the reasons thereof, incidentally mentioning each and every
act of hazing done by the yearlings, naming principals, witnesses, time
and place, should be forwarded to the superintendent, signed by the six;
and second, that every yearling who gave a demerit should be "licked
until he couldn't stand up."
Texas also swore incidentally that he'd resign if Mark were "fired," and
take him down to Texas to make a cowboy of him. And after that there was
nothing to do but wait and pray--and clean up for next day's
inspection, a task at which the whole seven labored up to the very last
minute before tattoo.
* * * * *
It was the afternoon of the following day; the rays of a scorching July
sun beat down upon the post, and West Point seemed asleep. Up by Camp
McPherson the cadets were lounging about in idleness, and it was only
down at barracks that there was anything moving at all. Inside the area
the hot and shimmering pavement echoed to the tread of the plebe company
at drill; outside the street was deserted except for one solitary figure
with whom our story has to do. The figure was a cadet officer in
uniform, Captain Fischer, of the first class, resplendent in his
chevrons and sash.
He was marching down the street with the firm, quick step that is second
nature to a West Pointer; he passed the barracks without looking in and
went on down to the hospital building; and there he turned and started
to enter. The door opened just as he reached it, however, and another
cadet came out. The officer sprang forward instantly and grasped him by
the hand.
"Williams!" he cried. "Just the fellow I was coming to see. And what a
beautiful object you are!"
Williams smiled a melancholy smile; he was beautiful and he knew it. His
face was covered in spots with Greek crosses of court-plaster, and
elsewhere by startling red lumps. And he walked with a shy, retiring
gait that told of sundry other damages. Such were the remains of
handsome "Billy," all-round athlete and favorite of his class, defeated
hero.
Williams had waited scarcely long enough for this thought to flash over
the young officer before he spoke again, this time with some anxiety.
"Tell me! Tell me about Mallory! I hear they're skinning him on
demerits."
"Yes, they are," returned Fischer, "and they've soaked him twenty more
this morning!"
"Twenty more! Then how many has he?"
"Eighty-five."
"What!" cried Williams. "You don't mean it! Why, he'll be out in a week.
Say, Fischer, that's outrageous!"
"Perfectly outrageous!" vowed the officer.
And Williams brought his hand down on his knee with a bang.
"By George!" he cried, "I'm going around to see him about it!"
With which words he sprang down the stairs and, leaving the cadet
officer to gaze at him in surprise, hurried up the street to barracks.
Squad drill was just that moment over; without wasting any time about
it, Williams hurried into the building and made his way to Mallory's
room. He found the plebe, and got right to work to say what he had to
say.
"Mr. Mallory," he began, "I've come up in the first place to shake hands
with you, and to say there's no hard feeling."
"Thank you," said Mark, and his heart went with the grip of his hand.
"You made a good fight, splendid!" continued the yearling. "And some day
I'll be proud to be your friend."
"I'm afraid," returned Mark, with a sad smile, "that I'll not be here
that long."
"That's the second thing I've come to see you about," vowed Williams.
"Mr. Mallory, I want you to understand that the decent men of this
class don't approve of the work that Mur--er, I suppose you know who's
back of it. And I tell you right now that I'm going to stop it if it's
the last act I ever do on this earth!"
"I'm afraid it won't do much good," responded the other, shaking his
head. "I could never pass six months without getting fifteen demerits."
"It's a shame!" cried the other. "And you have worked for your
appointment, too."
"I have worked," exclaimed Mark, something choking his voice that
sounded suspiciously near a sob, "worked for it as I have never worked
for anything in my life. It has been the darling ambition of my heart to
come here. And I came--and now--and now----"
He stopped, for he could think of no more to say. Williams stood and
regarded him in silence for some moments, and then he took him by the
hand again.
"Mr. Mallory," said he, "just as sure as I'm alive this thing shall
stop! Keep up heart now, and we'll make a fight for it! While there's
life there's hope, they say--and, by Heaven, you shan't be expelled!"
The following evening, when the reports were read, Mark's list of
demerits had reached a total of ninety-five.
The excitement among plebes and cadets alike was intense, and it was
known far and wide that Mark Mallory, the "B. J." plebe, stood at last
"in the shadow of dismissal."