PRIVATE BILL HOOPER LEARNS
"HOLD on, Hooper!"
"Don't act like a dog!"
"He's only a kid--can't you see?"
Then something happened like lightning.
Private Hal Overton had meant to take all his hazing good-humoredly. But
a blow struck in anger, and without just cause, was more than he was
prepared to brook.
"Sergeant Gray told me I was not expected to stand abuse," flashed
through his mind.
So, instead of cringing away from a repetition of the blow, Hal took a
sudden bound forward.
Whack!
"I have no use for a box on the ear," smiled Hal grimly. "So you can
have it back!"
Private Bill Hooper let out a roar, then sprang for the boy, intending
to pulverize the young rookie with his fists. But five or six of the men
sprang between them, forming an effective human wall.
"Shame on you, Hooper!"
"That's no way for a man to act."
"Get off your blouse, kid," blustered Private Hooper, as he unfastened
his own blouse and tossed it over the end of a cot. "You need a
trimming, and you're going to get it right now!"
"Here, kid, button your blouse up again," ordered Private Hyman. "You
ain't called upon to fight that bully. Hooper, if you're spoiling for
fight I'll do my best to be kind to you."
But Hal, the flush dying from his cheeks, coolly continued unbuttoning
his blouse. Then he pulled it off, handing it to a soldier near by.
"Dress yourself, kid. You don't have to fight a man twice your size."
"Let some one else have the job, kid. There's some of us here will take
it."
"The kid will stand up and take his own trimming," announced Hooper,
with ugly emphasis.
"No, no, no!"
"Beat it, Hooper!"
"Mates," went on Hal, as soon as he could make himself heard, "I'm
willing to stand for anything that's coming to a rook. But this is a
case that calls for something different. I've got to satisfy this man
that I can stand up before a pair of fists, or he'll never respect me
enough to let me alone."
"Why, kid, a man of Hooper's size will reduce you to powder," objected
Hyman seriously. "It's all right to have sand, and I guess you've got
it, but you've no call to be slaughtered."
"He'll thrash me," agreed Hal coolly, "but I'll get in enough on him to
make him want to let me alone after this. I'm ready for the fellow."
Realizing that the rookie was in earnest the soldiers stepped away from
between the pair.
"But you play fair, Hooper, or we'll kick you all over the squad room,"
warned another soldier.
Private Hooper clenched his fists, and stood flexing his arms, which,
through his shirt-sleeves, appeared to be decidedly powerful.
"Step up, kid, and get your trimming," he invited, with a ferocious
smile.
"I don't know much about fighting," admitted Hal, smiling pleasantly.
"All I know my dancing teacher taught me."
That raised a laugh and angered Hooper. This was just what the rookie
wanted to do, for he judged that Hooper could be prodded into a blind
rage.
Hooper now jumped forward, aiming an ugly swing for Hal's head. But the
rookie side-stepped swiftly out of the way. As he did so, one foot
dragged in front of the advancing bully. Hooper tripped over that foot,
and the force of his swing carried him forward so that he fell flat on
his face.
"Too bad! I hope you didn't hurt yourself," teased Hal sweetly, whirling
about like a flash.
Hooper was up with an oath, wind-milling his big arms.
"Take that!" he roared, aiming a heavy blow straight at Hal's chest.
"Against the rules of my dancing master!" mimicked Hal, bounding to the
left. As he did so he let his right fist drop on the point of Hooper's
chin.
"Ugh!" grunted the bully.
"Spit it out, if it got in your mouth," advised Hal unconcernedly, as he
again faced his antagonist.
From the way he dodged the next six or eight assaults it did look as
though Hal had spoken the truth when he stated that he had learned his
style of fighting from a dancing master. For the nimble rookie never did
seem to be just where Bill Hooper looked for him when landing blows.
"Take your partners!" mocked Hal Overton, as he darted past again. This
time, however, he landed a very hot and powerful blow right against
Hooper's right eye.
Now cautious cries of approval went up from the other men crowding
about. All of the men were careful not to make much noise, through fear
of bringing interference.
A minute later Hooper received such a stinging blow on the nose that it
brought a little trickle of red.
"Woof!" panted Hal, in going by again.
"Woof!" echoed Hooper. "Wow--ow--ugh!"
Then he doubled up, winded, for Hal, after feinting for the big fellow's
face had calmly but forcefully struck him just above the beltline.
Hooper was out of it for the present, and he knew it.
"Now sail in and finish him, rook!" called four or five men at once.
"Not this time," replied Hal, going over to the soldier who held his
blouse, taking the garment and putting it on. "I'll save the rest for
the next dance whenever Hooper feels festive."
Grateful that he didn't have to stand and take punishment in his present
condition, Hooper groped to a chair and sat down.
"Now, then, mates," announced Hal modestly, "when we were interrupted I
was trying to show you that I don't ache to be a hero. Being a regular
is good enough for me. I am ready to answer any further questions."
But just at that moment a bugle sounded the call to drill.
"You've answered enough questions for the present, rook," replied
Private Hyman, patting Overton on the shoulder as he went by. Hooper
struggled into his blouse, then went over to a sink and washed the red
from his nose before hurrying out with the others. The big private
didn't even look at Hal Overton as he went by.
Being excused from duty for the day, Hal went in search of Noll Terry.
He found him waiting outside of barracks.
"Whew, but I've been through a mill," sighed Noll.
"I've been ground just a bit myself," laughed Hal.
"Did the fellows twit you about last night's work?" asked Noll
curiously.
"Well, some," admitted Hal.
"If there's anything left that the fellows in the squad room can think
of to do to me, I'm wondering what it is," grunted Private Terry.
"Oh, they'll think up enough things," Hal declared. "We needn't imagine
that our mates will exhaust themselves in twenty minutes of fun. You
didn't lose your temper, did you, Noll?"
"No; and I don't want to. But there's one fellow in our room that I am
certain I'll have to fight before I get through."
"There's a fellow in our room that I don't believe I will have to
fight," chuckled Private Overton.
"Have you been in a fight already?" asked Noll, flashing a swift look at
his chum.
"Oh, no," Hal answered. "A dancing lesson was as far as I got this
morning. But come along, Noll. I want to get where we can get a look at
the great mountains yonder. My, how they seem to tower above the fort
and wall us in!"
Fort Clowdry was some fifty-two hundred feet above sea level. From
there, however, high mountains were visible that extended some thousands
of feet higher in the air. All about was a great view of rugged mountain
scenery.
Over past the buildings at the west end of the post the two rookies
wandered. Now they had a noble view of the mountains.
"Are you going off post this afternoon, as the colonel said we could?"
asked Noll, by and by.
"Not unless you very much want to, Noll. Can't we put in the time better
learning our way around the post?"
"Perhaps we can," assented Noll.
A soldier came along, driving a pair of mules to which a quarter
master's wagon was hitched. As he drew near, with a heavy load aboard,
he halted to rest the mules.
"Rooks, ain't ye?" questioned the soldier.
"Yes," admitted Hal.
"Taking a survey of the post?"
"Rather. We don't have to report for duty until to-morrow."
After a few moments the soldier climbed down from the seat of the wagon.
He was wholly willing to tell the boys whatever they wanted to know
about Fort Clowdry and to point out the features of interest in the
surrounding lines of mountains.
"Ever go hunting?" asked the soldier, at last.
"Yes; after squirrels and partridges," laughed Hal.
"No real hunting, though?"
"None."
"Then, if you can keep out of discipline troubles, ye'll have some fun
around here by and by."
"Soldiers don't have much time for hunting, do they?" Hal asked.
"Those that know how to hunt do," replied the older soldier. "That's
part of the life here. Didn't ye ever hear about soldier hunting
parties?"
"I certainly haven't," Hal admitted.
"Why, men of good conduct are often allowed to go off on hunting parties
when the game's running right. Generally there's six or eight men to a
party, and all have to be fair shots, for the K. O. doesn't aim to have
too much ammunition wasted," explained the old soldier. "One of the
party is a non-com and he has charge of the party."
"What do the hunters get?" queried Hal.
"Well, for bigger game, bear and mountain antelope mostly. Then some
parties go after birds; there's plenty of them, too, in the mountains,
at the right seasons."
"Say!" exploded Noll, his eyes shining.
"Think ye'd like to go on a hunting party, do ye?" asked the soldier.
"Get up yer record for marksmanship, then."
"What's done with the game?" asked Noll innocently.
"What----" the soldier started to repeat. Then he added, dryly:
"Oh, we send the game to the hospitals in Denver and Pueblo, of course!"
"Don't we get any of it to eat?" asked Noll, looking up.
"Say, don't ever go off with a party that doesn't bring back a big haul
of game," advised the older soldier. "If ye do, the company cooks will
lynch ye. Why, that's what we go hunting for--to vary the bill of fare
here at the post. Sometimes, when we're all just aching for bear steaks,
an officer and twenty or thirty men all hike off at once into the
mountain trails. There are plenty of game dinners at Clowdry, at
different times in the year."
Then the soldier climbed leisurely to the seat of his wagon and started
on again.
"I wonder if he was fooling us about hunting parties," mused Hal.
Later on, however, the rookies discovered that the soldier had told them
the truth. On some of the Western posts, hunting forms one of the
diversions of the men.
Presently they met another soldier, this time afoot.
"How far can we go without getting off the reservation?" Hal inquired.
"The way you're headed now you can go another mile without getting off
limits," the soldier replied.
"Reservation" is a term applied to the limits of an Army post. Wherever
an Army post exists it includes land reserved by the United States from
the jurisdiction of the individual state. Hence the name of reservation.
It was wilder country out here, away from the well-kept roads.
"Come on," urged Hal. "I'm going to take a good walk yet."
They had gone along, briskly, for at least another half mile when some
flying missile went by Hal's head. Noll, who was just behind him, saw
the missile, and watched it land on the ground beyond.
"Whoever is throwing rocks of that size--quit!" shouted Noll, wheeling
to his left and glaring at an irregularly-shaped ledge some sixty yards
away.
"Let's see who it is, anyway," cried Hal, darting toward the ledge.
By the time they reached the ledge they heard some lively scrambling
among the rocks beyond, but neither rookie could see anyone. All was
quiet for a few moments. Then a foot slipped on a stone, at a little
distance. Hal raced straight in the direction of the sound. He was in
time to see a crouching, running figure darting in and out among the
rocks.
"Come on, Noll! We've got him!" yelled Hal.
In another minute they had overtaken the fugitive, who now stood panting
at bay.
"Well, you're a nice one!" ejaculated Private Hal Overton.
"Tip Branders--out here in Colorado!" ejaculated Noll Terry.
"No; my name ain't Branders. Ye've got me mixed up with somebody else!"
glowered the young man at bay.