IN THE MOBILIZATION CAMP
“Well, this sure pleases me!” exclaimed Bud, as he stopped the car on
the summit of the ridge, so that they could feast their eyes on the
remarkable spectacle of all camp fires burning in the near distance.
“It is wonderful,” breathed Blake, “and well worth all the trouble it’s
cost us to get here. I reckon that we must be close to the border of the
camp, and can expect to be held up by a sentry any minute.”
“I’m going to start up my headlights going down this decline,” admitted
the pilot. “The more we drop into the valley the darker it’ll be; and we
can’t afford to meet with a smash-up at this stage of the game, when
we’ve about won out.”
He took especial pains in going down the slope, and finally the bottom
was reached in safety. Here they were suddenly greeted with a gruff
command to halt, and discovered a soldier in khaki bearing a gun
standing alongside the road.
“Say, this does look like war-times, doesn’t it?” said Blake, in a low
tone, “when you get hauled up by a vidette post. Hugh, please fix it so
we can go on.”
Some conversation followed between Hugh and the guard. Then a
non-commissioned officer was called, and more talk ensued. Hugh had laid
out his plan in advance, and so sagaciously that in the end he was given
permission to move on, although a soldier was placed upon the footboard
of the car to accompany the scouts to the quarters of Battery K.
Possibly the fact that they too wore the khaki had something to do with
their being allowed to enter the camp at this late hour, so long after
the time when soldiers were given a chance to see relatives and friends.
No matter what the reason, all of the boys felt as though they had won
fresh laurels in making that run from the home town in such a rack of a
car, and also being obliged to overcome baneful opposition of an
unscrupulous enemy.
They followed the road and were soon amidst some of the glowing fires.
Here they found guardsmen sitting around, and eating their supper, which
had evidently been prepared by the company cooks according to the rules
that govern the summer training camps.
So far as Hugh and his chums could see, they were a jolly crowd,
laughing and carrying on as though they did not have a care in the wide
world. Once the bitterness of parting from their loved ones had been
passed over, these healthy-minded young soldiers could play their part
like men, and meet every situation that was likely to arise.
“I tell you I’m nearly tickled to death because I came,” Bud was saying
as they rolled along the road between two rows of fires that crackled
and sent up myriads of sparks. “Talk about camping out, this has got all
our experiences knocked to flinders. Why, there must be millions of
soldiers here in this big valley.”
“Better say thousands, and be nearer the truth, Bud,” cautioned Blake.
“But it is a great sight, and one we’ll never forget, either. If a
fellow needed to have his patriotism stirred to the bone, he’d get it
done here. See how Old Glory is fastened up over that big tent yonder.
Now I wouldn’t be surprised if that was the colonel’s tent; or it might
even be Headquarters for the general in charge of all these forces of
the State.”
“We’ve got to pass through the whole camp before we come to where
Battery K is located, so the sergeant said,” Hugh remarked, as they
moved slowly on.
Numbers of the soldiers came forward to have a look at those in the car.
Possibly some of them may have entertained vague hopes that the
newcomers might turn out to be friends or relatives, urged to make the
trip by a desire to glimpse a dear face once more before the guardsmen
were ordered South. Hugh believed there was a wistful expression on many
of the faces he saw turned their way.
As for Blake, he could hardly restrain his impatience. The fact that
inside of a comparatively few minutes more he was to see his cousin, and
that there was still plenty of time for accomplishing his mission before
another day dawned, filled him with ecstacy.
“Don’t you think we must be nearly there, Hugh?” he would say,
pleadingly. “There couldn’t be any mistake now, could there, so that
we’re going the wrong way to strike our boys of Battery K? Are you sure
it’s directly along this road, Bud, we ought to keep on going?”
“That’s what the _non-com._ told us,” replied the driver of the car,
“and we must abide by orders when we’re in a military camp. Besides,
we’ve got some one along with us to show us the way; so ease up, Blake,
or you’ll crack sure.”
“Guess you’re right, Bud,” admitted the other, “and I’ll try to hold
myself in; but somehow I can’t feel dead sure till I’m shaking hands
with Felix, and know it’s going to be all right.”
The fact of the matter was, as Hugh suspected, Blake was now beginning
to fear that his impulsive cousin might prove obdurate, after all, and
absolutely decline to humble himself so as to write a letter of apology
to his uncle and guardian. Of course this would settle the matter just
as positively as though that agent of Luther Gregory had succeeded in
holding them up by having them arrested and kept for twenty-four hours
in some village jail.
“Look yonder, will you?” suddenly exclaimed Bud, nodding his head, and
using one hand to point to the left with, “there’s a battery of
field-pieces, but it isn’t the one from Oakland. Just beyond must be the
camp of the Engineers, because you can see a heap of picks and shovels
and such tools lying there. You know the Engineer Corps have to make
roads, build cook-houses, lay tent-floors for the officers’ quarters,
and do heaps of things like that. A fellow told me about it who used to
belong, and quit because he said it was such hard work.”
“Look over on this side, Bud, and you’ll see something that tickles
you,” called out Blake.
“The Signal Corps’ headquarters, I’ll be bound!” ejaculated the other in
sudden admiration. “See the wires they’ve run out. I warrant you every
command in the whole camp has a telephone in its headquarters, with a
Central station to boot. Now, if only I could run across the aviation
field, and see a few hangers for aeroplanes in evidence, I’d be happy.”
“Oh! they’re further away, over to the right,” explained the soldier who
stood on the footboard of the car. “We have three ’planes working every
day now, and more coming along. My brother is one of the air pilots, you
know, so what I’m giving you is straight goods, boys.”
They were by this time gradually approaching the other end of the great
camp, as could be told from the fact that the fires were becoming less
numerous beyond them.
“Your battery lies just ahead of us now,” announced the soldier, who
seemed to be thoroughly acquainted with the lay of the camp, and able to
direct any one to the location of each and every unit composing the
entire mobilization centre.
Yes, they could already begin to see guns posted in a clump, or
“parked,” to use a military term. These seemed to have a familiar look
to the Oakvale scouts, because they had many times handled the
dull-finished modern field-pieces, doubtless envious of the luck of
those whom they chanced to know as members of the company.
Leaving the car alongside the road, the boys followed after their guide,
who led them directly over to where the battery had its tents,
Immediately Hugh and his two chums began to recognize familiar faces. A
number of the men jumped to their feet and hurried toward the newcomers.
Hugh noticed that in some cases it was a look of sudden concern that
came upon the reddened faces of the young artillerymen; and he could
give a pretty good guess why this should be so. They were assailed with
sudden fears lest something terrible might have happened to those left
behind in the home town, and that the scouts had been dispatched to
carry the sad news.
“Hello! Hugh. Hello, boys. What fetches you away off here?” called out
one of the Battery K members; and his question must have voiced what was
on the minds of several others, since they all waited anxiously to hear
what Hugh might say in reply.
“We’ve come to have a little chat with Blake Merton’s cousin, Felix
Gregory, that’s all,” the patrol leader answered, at which something
like a look of relief passed over several faces.
“Well, it must be something pretty important to fetch the three of you
forty and more miles in a car?” suggested one fellow.
“Just what it is,” jauntily admitted Blake. “Now, can any of you direct
us to where we’ll find my cousin Felix?”
“I was talking with him about half an hour back, but haven’t seen him
since, now you mention it!” one called out.
“I’d advise you boys to look up Captain Barclay, and he’ll put you in
touch with Felix, who must be around somewhere, because we have orders
not to wander beyond bounds. There’s the captain’s tent over yonder,
Hugh.”
The speaker was big Hank Partridge, a cousin of Lige Corbley, and quite
well known to Hugh. As the advice seemed sound, the scout master
immediately turned his face toward the tent thus pointed out.
“Come along, boys, and we’ll see what the captain can do for us,” he
told his two mates, at the same time starting forward.
Blake was by now beginning to have that worried expression steal back
upon his face. His old fears had awakened again, as was evidenced by the
remark he made almost immediately after they started toward the
captain’s tent.
“It’s mighty queer, I think, how not a single one of all those fellows
could remember seeing my cousin inside of half an hour. Things have been
happening so contrary lately I’m beginning to be afraid that something
may have come along to whisk Felix out of the old camp here so I never
will find him.”
“Oh! how silly to let yourself borrow trouble in that way, Blake,” Bud
told him, scornfully. “What could carry him off but an aeroplane, and
I’m pretty sure they haven’t yet got to ducking down in the heart of a
camp, and snatching a fellow up bodily. Just hold your horses, and we’ll
run on him pretty soon now.”
They reached the tent of the commanding officer, where a sentry always
stood on guard. Hugh, knowing the rules that applied, asked to see
Captain Barclay, with whom he was, of course, well acquainted. In
another minute the captain himself came forth.
He shook hands with Hugh and the other two scouts. Then the story was
briefly told, particular emphasis being laid on the numerous attempts
that had been made to keep them from meeting Felix Gregory. The officer
was, of course, deeply interested. To lose such a fortune as Uncle
Reuben owned would, he felt sure, be a calamity for any young fellow.
“You deserve every encouragement, boys, after what you’ve done to save
Felix from the folly of his quick temper,” he told them at the close of
the recital. “I’m sure he must have been sorry long before. I know his
generous nature well. I’ll send out and have him come here to you. Then
Blake can talk with him aside, and, if my influence is worth anything,
you can depend on it I’ll only too gladly say a good word.”
So he gave an order, and the soldier to whom it was delivered hastened
away. While he was gone the boys continued their chat with the captain.
Finally the messenger returned, made his salute to his superior officer,
and said something. Hugh was watching and saw the other look grave.
Blake clutched the arm of his chum when the captain of Battery K,
advancing slowly toward them, went on to explain.
“Strange to say, boys, so far no one can be found who has seen Private
Gregory inside of half an hour. He seems to have mysteriously
disappeared; but, of course, he can be found, and if you will wait for
me here I’ll go the rounds myself and rout him out. Don’t worry while
I’m gone, for it’ll be all right.”