AT THE RECRUITING OFFICE
THE solemn time came the following morning.
Both Hal and Noll were "only children," or, at least, so thought their
mothers.
Messrs. Overton and Terry, the elders, gave their sons' hands a last
strong grip. No good advice was offered by either father at parting.
That had already been attended to.
Naturally the boys' mothers cried a good bit over them. Both mothers, in
fact, had wanted to go over to New York with their sons. But the fathers
had objected that this would only prolong the pain of parting, and that
soldiers in the bud should not be unfitted for their beginnings by
tears.
So Hal and Noll met at the station, to take an early morning train.
There were no relatives to see them off. Early as the hour was, though,
Jud Jeffers and Tom Andrews had made a point of being on hand.
"We wanted to see you start," explained Jud, his face beaming and eyes
wistful with longing. "We didn't know what train you'd take, so we've
been here since half-past six."
"We may be back by early afternoon," laughed Hal.
"Not you two!" declared Jud positively. "The recruiting officer will
jump right up, shake hands with you, and drag you over to where you sign
the Army rolls."
The train came along in time to put a stop to a long conversation.
As the two would-be soldiers stepped up to the train platform Jud and
Tom did their best to volley them with cheers.
Noll blushed, darting into a car as quickly as he could, and sitting on
the opposite side of the train from these noisy young admirers.
Hal, however, good-humoredly waved his hand from a window as the train
pulled out. Then, with a very solemn face, all of a sudden, young
Overton crossed and seated himself beside his chum.
Neither boy carried any baggage whatever. If they failed to get into the
Army they would soon be home again. If they succeeded in enlisting, then
the Army authorities would furnish all the baggage to be needed.
"Take your last look at the old town, Hal," Noll urged gravely, as the
train began to move faster. "It may be years before we see the good old
place again."
"Oh, keep a stiff upper lip, Noll," smiled Hal, though he, also, felt
rather blue for the moment. "Our folks will be down to the recruit
drilling place to see us, soon, if we succeed in getting enrolled."
It hurt both boys a bit, as long as any part of their home city remained
in sight. Each tried bravely, however, to look as though going away from
home had been a frequent occurrence in their lives.
By the time that they were ten miles on their way both youngsters had
recovered their spirits. Indeed, now they were looking forward with
almost feverish eagerness to their meeting the recruiting officer.
"I hope the Army surgeon doesn't find anything wrong with our physical
condition," said Hal, at last.
"Dr. Brooks didn't," replied Noll, as confidently as though that settled
it.
"But Dr. Brooks has never been an Army surgeon," returned Hal. "He may
not know all the fine points that Army surgeons know."
"Well we'll know before the day is over," replied Noll, with a catching
of his breath. "Then, of course, we don't know whether the Army is at
present taking boys under twenty-one."
"The law allows it," declared Hal stoutly.
"Yes; but you remember Sergeant Wright told us, fairly, that sometimes,
when the right sort of recruits are coming along fast, the recruiting
officers shut down on taking any minors."
"I imagine," predicted Hal, "that much more will depend upon how we
happen, individually, to impress the recruiting officer."
In this Hal Overton was very close to being right.
The ride of more than two hours ended at last, bringing the young
would-be soldiers to the ferry on the Jersey side. As they crossed the
North River both boys admitted to themselves that they were becoming a
good deal more nervous.
"We'll get a Broadway surface car, and that will take us right up to
Madison Square," proposed Noll.
"It would take us too long," negatived Hal. "We can save a lot of time
by taking the Sixth Avenue "L" uptown and walking across to Madison
Square."
"You're in a hurry to have it over with?" laughed Noll, but there was a
slight tremor in his voice.
"I'm in a hurry to know my fate," admitted Hal.
Oliver Terry had been in New York but once before. Hal, by virtue of his
superiority in having made four visits to New York, led the way
straight to the elevated railroad. They climbed the stairs, and were
just in time to board a train.
A few minutes later they got out at Twenty-third Street, crossed to
Fifth Avenue and Broadway, then made their way swiftly over to Madison
Square.
"There's the place, over there!" cried Noll, suddenly seizing Hal's arm
and dragging him along. "There's an officer and a man, and the soldier
is holding a banner. It has something on it that says something about
recruits for the Army."
"The man you call an officer is a non-commissioned officer--a sergeant,
in fact," Hal replied. "Don't you see the chevrons on his sleeve?"
"That's so," Noll admitted slowly. "Cavalry, at that. His chevrons and
facings are yellow. It was his fine uniform that made me take him for an
officer."
"We'll go up to the sergeant and ask him where the recruiting office
is," Hal continued.
Certainly the sergeant looked "fine" enough to be an officer. His
uniform was immaculate, rich-looking and faultless. Both sergeant and
private wore the olive khaki, with handsome visored caps of the same
material.
The early April forenoon was somewhat chilly, yet the benches in the
center of the square were more than half-filled by men plainly "down on
their luck." Some of these men, of course, were hopelessly besotted or
vicious, and Uncle Sam had no use for any of these in his Army uniform.
There were other men, however, on the seats, who looked like good and
useful men who had met with hard times. Most of these men on the benches
had not breakfasted, and had no assurance that they would lunch or dine
on that day.
It was to the better elements among these men that the sergeant and the
private soldier were intended to appeal. Yet the sergeant was not
seeking unwilling recruits; he addressed no man who did not first speak
to him.
In the tidy, striking uniforms, their well-built bodies, their well-fed
appearance and their whole air of well-being, these two enlisted men of
the regular army must have presented a powerful, if mute, appeal to the
hungry unfortunate ones on the benches.
"Good morning, Sergeant," spoke Hal, as soon as the two chums had
reached the Army pair.
"Good morning, sir," replied the sergeant.
"You're in the recruiting service?" Hal continued.
"Yes, sir."
Always the invariable "sir" with which the careful soldier answers
citizens. In the Army men are taught the use of that "sir," and to look
upon all citizens as their employers.
"Then no doubt you will direct us to the recruiting office in this
neighborhood?" Hal went on.
"Certainly, sir," answered the sergeant, and wheeling still further
around he pointed north across the square to where the office was
situated.
"You can hardly miss it, sir, with the orderly standing outside," said
the sergeant, smiling.
"No, indeed," Hal agreed. "Thank you very much, Sergeant."
"You're welcome, sir. May I inquire if you are considering enlisting?"
"Both of us are," Hal nodded.
"Glad to hear it, sir," the sergeant continued, looking both boys over
with evident approval. "You look like the clean, solid, sensible, right
sort that we're looking for in the Army. I wish you both the best of
good luck."
"Thank you," Hal acknowledged. "Good morning, Sergeant."
"Good morning, sir."
Still that "sir" to the citizen. The sergeant would drop it, as far as
these two boys were concerned, if they entered the service and became
his subordinates.
It seemed to Hal and Noll as if they could not get over the ground fast
enough until they reached that doorway where the orderly stood. The
orderly directed them how to reach the office upstairs, and both boys,
after thanking him, proceeded rapidly to higher regions.
They soon found themselves before the door. It stood ajar. Inside sat a
sergeant at a flat-top desk. He, too, was of the cavalry. There were
also two privates in the room.
Doffing their hats Hal and Noll entered the room. Overton led the way
straight to the sergeant's desk.
"Good morning, Sergeant. We have come to see whether we can enlist."
"How old were you on your last birthday?" inquired the sergeant, eyeing
Hal keenly.
"Eighteen, Sergeant."
"And you?" turning to Noll.
"Seventeen," Noll replied.
"You are too young, I'm sorry to say," replied the sergeant to Noll.
Then, turning to Hal, he added:
"You may be accepted."
"But I've got another birthday coming very soon," interjected Noll.
"How soon?"
"To-morrow."
"You'll be eighteen to-morrow?" questioned the sergeant.
"Yes, sir."
"That will be all right, then," nodded the sergeant. "You won't need to
be sworn in before to-morrow. You have both of you parents living?"
"Yes, sir," Hal answered, this time.
"It is not necessary, or usual, to say 'sir,' when answering a
non-commissioned officer," the sergeant informed them. "Say 'sir,'
always, when addressing a commissioned officer or a citizen."
"Thank you," Hal acknowledged.
"Now, you have the consent of your parents to enlist?"
"Yes, Sergeant."
"Both of you?"
"Yes."
"Aldridge!"
One of the pair of very spruce-looking privates in the room wheeled
about.
"Furnish these young men with application blanks, and take them over to
the high desk."
Having said this the sergeant turned back to some papers that he had
been examining.
"You will fill out these papers," Private Aldridge explained to the
boys, after he had led them to the high desk. "I think all the
questions are plain enough. If there are any you don't understand then
ask me."
It was a race between Hal and Noll to see which could get a pen in his
hand first. Then they began to write.
The first question, naturally, was as to the full name of the applicant;
then followed his present age and other questions of personal history.
For some time both pens flew over the paper or paused as a new question
was being considered.
When he came to the question as to which arm of the service was
preferred by the applicant Noll turned to Hal to whisper:
"Is it still the infantry?" young Terry asked.
"Still and always the infantry," Hal nodded.
"All right," half sighed Noll. "I'm almost wishing for the cavalry,
though, so I could ride a horse."
"The infantry is best for our plans," Hal replied.
When they had finished making out their papers Hal and Noll went back to
the sergeant's desk.
"Do we hand these to you?" Hal asked.
"Yes," said the sergeant, taking both papers. He ran his eyes over them
hurriedly, then rose and passed into an inner office. When he came out
all he said was:
"Take seats over there until you're wanted."
Two or three minutes later a buzzer sounded over the sergeant's head.
Rising, he entered the inner room.
"Our time's come, now, I guess," whispered Noll.
"Or else something else is going to happen," replied Hal, smiling. "You
and I are not the only two problems with which the Army concerns
itself."
Noll's guess was right, however. The sergeant speedily returned to the
outer office and crossed over to the boys, who rose.
"Lieutenant Shackleton will see you," announced the sergeant. "Step
right into his office. Stand erect and facing him. Use the word, 'sir,'
when answering him, and be very respectful in all your replies. Let him
do all the talking."
"We understand, thank you," nodded Hal.
The sergeant, who had his cap in his hand, turned to leave the office
for a few moments on other business. As he was going out he nearly
bumped into a heavily-built young fellow who was entering.
Hal Overton had reached the door leading into the lieutenant's office
and pulled it open.
Just as he did so he heard a rather familiar voice behind him demand:
"Where's the officer in charge?"
"In that office," replied one of the soldiers, pointing.
The newcomer did not stop to thank the soldier, but sprang toward the
door that Hal had just opened.
"Here, you kids can stand aside until a man gets through with his
business in there," exclaimed Tip Branders, gripping Hal by the
shoulders and swinging him aside.