CHAPTER XX

A DISCOVERY AT THE RIDING DRILL

Having once got a hard gait in mathematics, Dick went steadily

on and up until he reached one of the middle sections. There

he stopped. It was as high as he could go, with all this competition

from the brightest young men in the country.

Greg, too, managed to get well away from the goats, and so was

happy.

Through the winter the yearlings, in detachments, had attended

the riding hall regularly during the afternoons.

Most of the men, as spring came along, had proven themselves very

good cadet horsemen, though all would have chance to learn more

during the two years yet ahead of them.

Dodge, who rode in the same detachment with Dick and Greg, was

credited with being the poorest rider in the class.

"When you get to be an officer, Mr. Dodge, you'll have to take

the yearly walking test for three days. You'll get over the ground

quicker and safer than you would on a horse," remarked the cadet

corporal.

"Oh, well, sir, I'm going into the doughboys, anyway," grinned

Dodge. "It will be a good many years before I can get up far

enough in the line to be called upon to ride a horse."

The "doughboys" are the United States Infantry. No company officer

in the infantry mounted; only the field and staff officers of

the doughboys are provided with mounts.

One cloudy Friday afternoon Cadet Corporal Haskins marched a yearling

detachment down to the riding hall. Captain Hall, their instructor,

was already in saddle. He turned to receive the report of Haskins

after the detachment had been halted at the edge of the tan-bark.

"Stand to horse!" ordered Captain Hall.

The men of the detachments sprang over, each leading out his mount

for the afternoon.

"Prepare to mount!"

Instantly each young man stood with one foot in stirrup, one hand

at the animal's mane, and one at saddle.

"Mount!"

In perfect unison the yearling cadets swung themselves up into

saddle, their right feet searching for and then resting in the

stirrup boxes.

Then, at the command, Haskins led his men out in single file.

Thus they circled the riding hall twice at a walk.

"Trot!" came Captain Hall's command.

A few rounds of this was followed by the command, "gallop!" Around

and around the hall the cadets rode, every man but one feeling

the blood tingling with new life through his arteries. It was

glorious to stride a horse and to ride at this gait!

Glorious, that is, for all except one man. Dodge rode at the

tail end of the line, on a fiend of a horse that had proven

disastrous to more than one green rider.

As the "gallop" was ordered, Dodge's mount showed a longing to

bolt and dash up to the head of the line. Dodge, throbbing uneasily,

reined in hard. His horse began to chafe as it found itself forced

back. In another moment Dodge was lagging behind.

"Keep the pace, Mr. Dodge! Keep the pace, sir!" called out Captain

Hall.

Bert obeyed, but in fear. He did not know at what instant this

uneasy animal would rear and unhorse him.

At last the detachment was halted and the line faced about. Now

the detachment rode in reverse direction around the tan-bark.

By this means Dodge became the leader.

Through the walk and the trot, he managed to get along all right,

though he was nervous.

"Stick to your saddle, Mr. Dodge!" called Captain Hall. "Don't

bump it, sir. Settle down and ride steadily."

Then, an instant later, just as Dodge was beginning to feel secure:

"Gallop!"

Dodge's wild mount gave a snort, then bolted.

"Whoa, you unruly beast!" roared Dodge. Behind him rode the

detachment, grimly merry, though with not a flicker of a smile

showing.

Bert's horse pulled away, and bolted, with Dodge tugging at the

bridle.

Greg, riding behind him, endeavored to bridge the gap.

"Steady, Mr. Holmes!" shouted the cavalry instructor. "You may

set the pace until Mr. Dodge regains control of his mount."

Straight around the tan-bark went Dodge and his mount, until the

animal was in danger of colliding with Haskins' mount.

"Hard on your off rein, Mr. Dodge! Swing out into the center

and bring your horse down!" ordered Captain Hall sternly.

Bert managed to swing out of the line, but that was all. He shot

along on the inside, for the horse seemed to have a notion that

it was racing the entire detachment, lap by lap.

"Have you utterly lost control of your horse, Mr. Dodge?" shouted

Captain Hall.

Plainly enough the young man had, for, at that moment, the beast,

its mouth sore from the continued tugging against the bits, slackened

its pace, then plunged on its forefeet, throwing its heels high

in the air.

With a gasp of terror Dodge struck the tan-bark, one shoulder

landing first. But he still retained the bridle, and was dragged.

The vicious animal wheeled, rearing, and its fore-feet came down

aimed at Dodge's face.

Dick Prescott was the nearest cadet horseman at this moment.

Suspecting what might happen, Prescott had swung his own mount

sharply out of line, riding straight after Dodge.

"Drop your bridle!" called Dick sternly.

Then, just as Dodge's horse was bringing its fore-feet down, Prescott

rode against the angry animal, striking it against the flank and

shoving it sideways and back. The brute's forefeet struck the

tan-bark, but more than two feet from Dodge's head. Bert had

presence of mind enough to roll to one side.

In an instant Prescott was down out of saddle, holding his own

splendidly disciplined mount by the bridle while he bent over

his class-mate.

Dodge lay on the tan-bark, his uniform awry and dirty, and his face

blanched with fear of the horse.

"Are you much hurt, Dodge?" asked Dick.

"No, confound you!" muttered Bert under his breath.

As if to prove his lack of injury, he sat up, then rose to his feet.

"Mount, Mr. Prescott, and join the line," noting all with quick

eyes. "Mr. Dodge, recapture your horse, mount and fall in."

That was the discipline of the tan-bark. If a cadet falls from

a horse and has no bones broken, or no other desperate injury,

he must wait until his horse comes around, catch it and mount

again. If the horse be excited and fractious, all the more reason

why the cadet should capture the beast and mount instantly. A

horse must always be taught that a cavalryman is his master.

The riderless brute had fallen in at the tail of the line now,

behind Cadet Corporal Haslins, and was going along peaceably

enough---until Bert Dodge made a lunge for the bridle. Then the

beast shied, and got past.

"Run after your horse, Mr. Dodge; catch him and mount him," called

Captain Hall, fuming that this episode should steal away drill

time from the other more capable young horsemen.

"Mr. Dodge," rapped out the cavalry instructor sharply, after

Bert had made two more efforts to get hold of the bridle, "are

you waiting for a groom to bring your horse to you?"

At this some of the pent-up merriment broke loose. Half a dozen

yearlings chuckled aloud.

"Silence in ranks!" ordered the instructor sharply. Then, patiently,

though with more that a tinge of rebuke in his tone, the captain

added:

"Mr. Dodge, you've taken all the time we can spare you, sir.

Catch that horse instantly and mount!"

By sheer good luck Bert managed to obey. But his nerve was gone

for the afternoon. He made a sad bungle of all the work, though

he was not again unhorsed.

There was bareback riding, and riding by pairs, in which latter

feat one man of each pair passed his bridle to the comrade beside

him, then rode with folded arms. Then came riding by threes,

with the center man holding the bridles from either side, while

each of the outer men rode with folded arms. Then, cautiously,

the men were taught to stand on the bare backs of their horses

and to move at a walk. By and by they would be required to ride,

standing, at a gallop.

All through this drill, Dick Prescott rode with precision, power,

and even grace.

Yet never had his mind been further from the present work than

it was this afternoon.

Had Bert Dodge known more of what Prescott had seen as the former

lay for that instant on the tan-bark, Dick's enemy would have

fallen from his horse in a delirium of fear.

For, as Bert fell in the center of the tan-bark the left sleeve

of his coat had been pushed back, exposing the white linen cuff.

From the inner hem of that cuff, up to the middle, Dick Prescott

had gazed, for an instant only, on row after row of small, evenly

lettered words or rows of numerals. Prescott had not had time

to bend close enough to see which.

Yet no sooner had Dick vaulted back into saddle again than the

remembrance of that cuff flashed upon him.

"Dodge has been excelling in daily recitations, yet can't do as

well at general review!" flashed hotly through Prescott's mind.

"And Dodge, the high-souled one who loathes cribs! If that writing

on his cuff isn't a crib of today's math., then I'm a plebe!"

The thought would not down, even for a moment.

Dick became wilder in his thoughts the more he thought about it.

"The cribber! And he sought to blast me here on a false charge

of cribbing. For now I know in my soul that he put that paper

crib in my handkerchief that Friday morning months ago!"

Dick's indignation, as he rode, was more than personal. True,

he longed to show up the sneak who had nearly wound up another

and honest cadet's career here at West Point. But there was an

even higher purpose in Prescott's mind at the same time. The

corps of cadets loathes a cribber as it does any other kind of

cheat or liar. It is justly regarded as a moral crime for any

cadet, knowing another to be a sneak, stand by and silently allow

that sneak to graduate into the brotherhood of the Army.

"Dodge, you cur, every minute, now, is bringing you nearer your

own merited disgrace," muttered Dick savagely. "As soon as this

detachment is dismissed at barracks I'll denounce you before all

the fellows. I'll insist that you expose that cuff---and you'll

have to do it!"

Once Prescott caught himself wondering whether he might not fail

through being too hasty. Was it barely possible that the writing

on Bert Dodge's left cuff was wholly innocent?

"No! I'm not making any mistake, and I'll prove it to my own

satisfaction!" throbbed this cadet who had waited patiently all

these months for complete vindication before the corps.

Never had Dick known such relief at being dismissed from riding

drill. The detachment formed under Haskins' orders, and marched

up the road from riding hall, across the street to the Academic

Building, and then, with Corporal Haskins still at the head, turned

in at the east sally-port.

But here, right at the entrance to the port, stood Chaplain Montgomery.

"Corporal Haskins," called the chaplain, as he returned the cadet

officer's smart salute, "will you excuse Mr. Prescott that I may

speak with him?

"Mr. Prescott, fall out!" came Haskins' command.

With a feeling of horror and anguish Dick fell out, saluting Chaplain

Montgomery, for the chaplain, though an ordained minister of the

church, was also, by virtue of his post of chaplain, a captain

of the United States Army.

On moved the detachment, the feet of the cadets moving at a rhythmic

beat as these perfect young soldiers moved on across the barracks

area.

And all Chaplain Montgomery had to say to Cadet Prescott was to

tell him in which bound file of a magazine at the Y.M.C.A. could

be found an article about which Dick had asked the churchman a

fortnight before.

Dick returned thanks, though he meant no disrespect to the kindly

chaplain. Then, saluting, he hurried on after the detachment.

But more than a fatal minute had been lost at the sally-port,

and now the detachment was dismissed. The men had been in their

rooms for at least forty-five seconds.

"No use to go to Dodge now!" thought Dick despondently. "Whether

he knows that I saw that cuff or not, he has removed it and has

it safely hidden by this time. Oh, if Chaplain Montgomery could

have been a hundred yards further away at that moment!"

It was no use to lament. Dick concluded to wait and bide his

time. The chance might yet come to catch Bert Dodge red handed.

"Though, if he suspects that I saw his exposed cuff, he'll take

pains that there is not further chance!" decided Cadet Prescott.

After that he went to his room, where he told Greg what he had

discovered.

"It's suspicious---mightily so," declared Holmes. "But it isn't

proof---not yet!"

Nevertheless, Greg, once he had heard, could not get the matter

out of his mind either!

Dick Prescott's Second Year at West Point Or, Finding the Glory of the Soldier's Life · 第 20 / 24 章