THE CADET HOSPITAL
Cadet Prescott lay on one of the operating tables at cadet hospital.
Without a murmur he submitted to the examination. At times the
work of the medical officer's hurt a good deal, but this was evidenced
only by a firmer pressing together of the young soldiers lips.
At last they paused.
"Are you through, gentlemen?" Dick asked, looking steadily at the
two medical officers.
"Yes," answered Captain Goodwin, the senior surgeon.
"May I properly ask what you find?"
"We are not yet quite sure," replied the senior surgeon. "None
of the bones of the spine are broken. There has, of course, been
a severe wrenching there. Whether your injury is going to continue
into a serious or permanent injury we cannot yet say. A good deal
will depend upon the grit with which you face things."
"I am a soldier," replied Dick doggedly. "Even if I am not much
longer to be one."
"We will now have you removed to your cot. We are not going to
place you in a cast as yet, anyway. It is possible that, after
a few days, you may be able to walk fairly well."
"In that case, captain, is it then likely that I shall be able to
return to duty?"
"Yes; the quicker things mend, and the sooner you are able to
walk without help, the greater will be your chance of pulling
through this injury and remaining in the service."
"Then I'd like to try walking back to barracks right now," smiled
Cadet Prescott, wistfully.
"You are not to think of it, Mr. Prescott! You must not even
attempt to put a foot out of bed until we give you permission.
If you take the slightest risk of further injury to your back
you are likely to settle your case for good and all, so far as
the Army is concerned."
"I told you I was a soldier, sir," Dick replied promptly. "For
that reason I shall obey orders."
"Good! That's the way to talk, Mr. Prescott," replied the senior
medical officer heartily. "The better soldier you are, the better
your chances are of remaining in the Army."
"There won't be any need, will there, captain, to send word to my
father and mother of this accident until it is better known how
serious it is?" coaxed Dick.
"If you wish the news withheld for the present, I will direct
the adjutant to respect your wishes."
"If you will be so good, sir," begged the hapless cadet.
Hospital men were summoned and Dick was skillfully, tenderly transferred
to a cot in another room. The steward stood by and took his orders
silently from Captain Goodwin.
Hardly had this much been accomplished when a hospital service man
entered, passing a card to Captain Goodwin.
"Admit him," nodded the surgeon.
In another minute Captain Albutt stepped into the room, going over to
the cot and resting one of his hands over the cadet's right hand.
"How are you feeling?" asked Captain Albutt.
"Fine, sir, thank you," replied Dick cheerily.
"I'm glad your pluck is up. And I hear that you have a good chance."
"I hope so, sir, with all my heart. The Army means everything
in life to me, sir. And Captain Albutt, I want to thank you for
your splendid conduct in risking your own life to save me."
"Surely, Prescott," replied the captain quietly, "you know the
spirit of the service better than to thank a soldier for doing
his duty."
Captain Albutt had called him simply "Prescott," dropping the
"mister," which officers are usually so careful to prefix to a
cadet's name when addressing him. This little circumstance, slight
as it was, cheered the cadet's heart. It was a tactful way of
dropping all difference in rank, and of admitting Prescott to
full-fledged fraternity in the Army.
"I shall inquire after you every day, Prescott, and be delighted
when you can be admitted to the riding work again;" said the captain
in leaving. "And I think you need have no fear of seeing Satan
on the tan-bark again. If I have any influence, that beast will
never be assigned to a cadet's use after this."
When Captain Albutt had gone Greg came in, on tiptoe.
"Out the soft pedal, old chap," smiled Dick cheerily, as their
hands met. "I'm not a badly hurt man. The worst of this is that
it keeps me from recitations for a few days. If it weren't for that,
I'd enjoy lying here at my ease, with no need to bother about
reveille or taps."
Greg's manner was light-hearted and easy. He had come to cheer up
his chum, but found there was no need for it.
Then the superintendent's adjutant dropped in on his way home
from the day in the office at headquarters. Having talked with
Captain Goodwin, the adjutant agreed that there was no need, for
a few days, to notify Prescott's parents and cause them uneasiness.
"We'll hope, Mr. Prescott," smiled the adjutant, "that you'll
be well able to sit up and send them the first word of the affair
in your own hand, coupled with the information that you're out of
all danger."
Had it not been for his natural courage, Cadet Prescott would
have been a very restless and "blue" young man. He knew, as well
as did anyone else, that the chances of his complete recovery
to sound enough condition for future Army service were wholly
in the balance. But Captain Goodwin had impressed upon him that
good spirits would have a lot to do with his chances. So strong
was his will that Prescott was actually almost light-hearted when
it came around time to eat his evening meal of "thin slops."
Over in cadet barracks interest ran at full height. Greg had to
receive scores of cadets who dropped in to inquire for the best word.
One of the last of these to come was Cadet Haynes.
Greg received him rather frigidly, though with no open breach of
courtesy.
"It's too bad," began Haynes.
"Of course it is," nodded Holmes.
"Prescott has very little chance of remaining in the corps, I suppose?"
"The surgeons don't quite say that," rejoined Greg.
"Oh, the rainmakers (doctors) are always cagey about giving real
information until a man's dead," declared the turnback sagely.
"They seem to believe that Prescott has an excellent chance,"
insisted Greg.
"No bones broken?"
"Not a one."
"What is the trouble, then?"
"The rainmakers can't say exactly. They're waiting and watching."
"Humph! That sounds pretty bad for their patient."
"They say that if Prescott is able to walk soon, then his return
to duty ought to be rather speedy."
"I'd like to believe the rainmakers," grunted Haynes.
"Would you?" inquired Greg very coolly.
"Of course."
"What is your particular interest in my roommate?" demanded Cadet
Holmes.
He looked straight into the other's eyes. "Why, Prescott is one
of the best and most popular fellows in the class. I've always
liked him immensely, and-----"
"Humph!" broke in Cadet Holmes, using the turnback's own favorite
word.
To just what this scene might have led it is impossible to say,
but just at that instant Anstey and two other second classmen came
into the room, and the turnback seized the opportunity to get away.
Though Cadet Prescott was so cheerful over his injury he was in
a good deal of pain as the evening wore on.
Every hour or so Goodwin or the other surgeon came in to see him.
Though Prescott could hardly be expected to understand it, the
surgeons were pleased, on the whole, with the pain. Had there
been numbness, instead, the surgeons would have looked for paralysis.
Later in the night Dick asked Captain Goodwin if he could not
administer some light opiate.
"You are willing to be a soldier, I know, Mr. Prescott," replied
the surgeon.
"Be sure of that, sir," replied the young man, Wincing.
"Then try to bear the pain. It is the best indication with which
we have to deal. It is one of the most hopeful symptoms for which
we could look. Besides, your descriptions of the pain, and of
its locality, if you are accurate, will give us our best indication
of what to do for you."
"Then I don't want any opiate, sir," replied Dick bluntly. "I
don't care whether I'm kept here a day or a year, or what I have
to suffer, only as long as I don't have to lose an active career
in the service!"
"Good for you, my young soldier," beamed the surgeon, patting the
cadet's hand. "The superintendent telephoned over, a little while
ago, to ask how you were. I told him that your grit was the best
we had seen here in a long time."
"Thank you, sir."
"And the superintendent replied, dryly enough, that he expected
that from your general record. The superintendent sent you his
personal regards."
"Thank you, sir, and the superintendent, too."
"Oh, and a lot of others have been inquiring about you, too---the
K.C. and all of the professors and most of the instructors. And
at least a small regiment of cadets have tramped down as far as
the office door also. I've been saving the names of inquirers,
and will tell you the names in the morning. All except the names
of the cadets, that is. There was too big a mob of cadets for
us to attempt to keep the names."
It was a painful, restless, feverish night for Prescott. He slept
a part of the time, though when he did his sleep was filled with
nightmares.
The surgeons won his gratitude by their devotion to his interests.
The first half of the night Captain Goodwin was in at least every
hour. The latter half of the night it was Lieutenant Sadtler who
made the round.
By permission Cadet Holmes came to the hospital office just after
breakfast.
It was a gloomy face that poor Greg wore back to barracks with him.
The surgeons had spoken hopefully, but---
"Brains always work better than brute force," Haynes told himself,
struggling hard to preserve his self-esteem.