CHAPTER XX

DICK DOESN'T TELL

All the rest of that day cadets continued to arrive at Kentfield

Academy, and there were lively scenes on the snow-covered campus, in the

assembly auditoriums, students' rooms, and in the mess hall.

Several new cadets stood about, looking rather miserable, Dick thought,

and he spoke to some of them, telling them where to report, and what to

do, for he appreciated what it meant to be a stranger among a lot of

lads who ignored new-comers, not because they were heartless so much as

that they were thoughtless.

Dick rather hoped Dutton would not return, but that cadet was among the

first he encountered as he strolled over the white campus.

Dutton nodded coolly, and Dick as coolly acknowledged the bow. Then

Dutton saw a freshman standing near the saluting cannon. It was one of

the unwritten rules of the school that none below the grade of

sophomores might stand near the cannon.

"Here, fresh!" cried Dutton roughly, "stand away from that gun!"

The lad, a small chap, did not seem to comprehend.

Dick put in a word.

"You can't stand near there until you're a second year," he told the

lad. "It's a school rule, that's all."

"I say, Hamilton, I guess I can manage my own affairs," said Dutton,

angrily. "You mind your own business; will you?"

"I guess I've got as much right to speak as you have," said Dick hotly.

"I was only telling him what to do."

The freshman looked from one to the other. Quite a group had gathered by

this time, attracted by Dutton's loud voice. The new lad moved a short

distance away from the gun.

"Don't you know enough to mind when you're spoken to?" demanded Dutton,

advancing toward him. "I'll teach you manners, you young cub! Why don't

you salute when an officer speaks to you? Now get back," and, with that

he gave the lad such a shove that he went over backward into a snow

bank, made by shoveling the white crystals away from the gun.

"That's not right, Dutton!" exclaimed Dick.

"You mind your own affairs, or I'll do the same to you, Hamilton,"

retorted the bully.

"You'd better try it," said Dick quietly. "If you want to fight with me,

you know what to do. Just lay a finger on me."

He took a step toward his enemy, and stood waiting for him. But Dutton

knew better than to attack Dick. He had felt the weight of his fists

once, and he knew he had no chance in a fair fight.

So he strode away, muttering to the lad whom he had knocked down:

"You keep away from this gun, after this, fresh."

Dick did not think it wise to say anything further on the side of the

mistreated one. Already he saw some unpleasant looks directed toward him

by Dutton's friends, and he realized that by interfering in what was

considered one of the rights of upper classmen, to assume a bullying

attitude toward those in the lower grades, he was not adding to his

popularity. I am glad to say that such characters as Dutton were in the

small majority at Kentfield, and that though some of his cronies

applauded his action in knocking the newcomer down, most of the lads

were not in sympathy with the bully.

But there were so many things occurring, so many cadets arriving, some

of whom wanted to change their apartments, to get new roommates, or be

quartered in other sections of the barracks, that all was in seeming

confusion.

Colonel Masterly and his aides, however, had matters well in hand, and

by night, when the cadets lined up for the march to mess, affairs were

in some sort of order.

"Do you want to make a shift, Paul?" asked Dick, as they went to their

room early that evening.

"A shift? What do you mean?"

"Why some of your friends have changed over to the east barrack, I hear.

I thought maybe you'd want to go too?"

"Do you want me to go?"

"Indeed I don't!" and Dick spoke very earnestly.

"All right. When I want to leave you I'll let you know," and Paul

slapped Dick on the back in a fashion that told what his feelings were

in the matter.

A little later mysterious steps in the corridor, and subdued knockings

on nearby doors told Paul and Dick that something unusual was going on.

"Hazing," said Paul. "We're immune. Let's take it in."

"I don't like to haze fellows," said Dick. "It's all right when they're

your size, but all the chaps who came in lately are smaller than I am."

"That won't make any difference to Dutton and his crowd. They'll haze

'em anyhow, and we might as well see the fun. A fellow who can't stand a

little hazing is no good."

"That's so. Guess I'll go. I don't mind it if it isn't too rough. I

wouldn't mind being hazed myself. It would give me a chance to make a

rough house for Dutton and his cronies."

"Come on then. Let's go to the gym. I heard that they're going to haze

a bunch of 'em there."

"What about Major Rockford?"

"Well, I guess he and the colonel know about it, but they won't

interfere unless it gets too strenuous."

Dick and Paul found a large crowd of the older cadets already gathered

in the gymnasium. In one corner was huddled a rather frightened group of

freshmen, who were waiting their turn to be grilled. They had been

rounded up from their rooms by a committee appointed for that purpose.

"Now, fellows," said Dutton, who, as usual, assumed the leadership,

"we'll work 'em off in bunches. Put two or three of 'em in a blanket and

toss 'em up for a starter."

"Some of 'em may get hurt," objected Stiver. "We'd better take 'em one

at a time."

"Aw, you're afraid! Besides, we haven't time. Here, Beeby, grab a couple

of 'em and pass 'em over."

Captain Beeby of Company B grasped a cadet in either hand, and shoved

them toward Dutton The latter already had one, and the three lads were

pushed down into a large blanket which had been spread for that purpose.

"Grab the corners and up with 'em!" called Dutton. "Toss 'em as high as

you can."

"Suppose they fall out?" objected Lieutenant Jim Watkins.

"It won't matter. There's a gym. mat under 'em."

Up into the air went the unfortunate lads, clinging together in a sort

of bunch, and struggling to see which one was to be underneath in the

fall. Down they came into the blanket, but the impact was so heavy that

it was torn from the grasp of the cadets holding it, and the freshmen

landed on the mat with a thump and many squeals.

"That's the way!" cried Dutton with a laugh. "Now, once more."

"Let's take some others," proposed Beeby.

"No, they haven't had enough."

So, in spite of their struggles and protests, the lads were tossed

again. Then three more took their places. They, too, had a hard time,

one falling over the edge of the blanket and partly off the mat. But he

was game and never made a sound.

"Now for the slide of death!" cried Dutton.

"What's that?" asked several of his cronies.

"I'll show you," he said.

From the top of the gymnasium there hung a long rope, running over a

pulley. Dutton made a loop in one end, and then took hold of the other.

"Tie a couple of 'em up in blankets," he ordered, and two of the

struggling cadets were made up into a rough bundle. Dutton then passed

several coils of the long rope about them.

"Pull 'em up!" he ordered next, and willing hands aided him in hoisting

the lads toward the roof of the gymnasium.

"You are now about to take the slide of death!" called Dutton, when the

freshmen were close against the pulley, and fully forty feet above the

floor. "We're going to let you come down on the run----"

A scream from one of the lads in the blanket high up in the air

interrupted him.

"You'll frighten him!" called Dick.

"What's that to you? Mind your own affairs, and we'll run this," said

Dutton. "Or maybe you'll get your hazing, which we omitted last time."

"Go ahead," said Dick. "But that's too risky."

"Aw, cut it out, Hamilton," said Stiver. "We ain't going to hurt 'em."

But this assurance could not be heard by the lads in the blanket, who

could not see.

"Let her slide!" cried Dutton, and he and his chums released their grasp

on the rope, which was wound about a post.

Down, on the run, came the unfortunate cadets, and from the cries they

uttered they must have imagined that they were about to be dashed to the

floor. Then Dick saw that several mats were right under them, in case of

accident.

But it was not the intention of Dutton to run any risks. At first the

rope was paid out swiftly, and then it was gradually tightened against

the post, until the speed of the falling cadets was slackened, and they

came to a stop a few inches above the mats.

"The next batch won't get off so lucky!" announced Dutton, as he

commanded that some more be wrapped up in the blanket. "We'll bump

them."

This news was sufficient to cause a panic among the candidates still

remaining, but their protests were of no avail, and they came down with

considerable force on the mats, but no one was hurt.

Then the water cure was administered to a number, the streams being

poured down their trouser legs, amid the laughter of the unfortunate

ones who were exempt. As the gymnasium was kept quite warm this ordeal

was not so bad as might be supposed. Still, it was not pleasant, but it

was part of the game.

A particularly tall freshman was stretched out, or, rather suspended on

the flying rings, until he looked like some soaring eagle. He struggled,

but to no effect, and had to take his medicine. Others were blindfolded,

and made to fight with blown-up bladders, some were tied in pairs on

trapezes, and a number were made to do ridiculous stunts, to the more or

less enjoyment of the older cadets.

"Well, I guess that's all," announced Dutton, a little before it was

time for taps to sound. "Unless we take Hamilton."

"I'm willing," said Dick, with a grim smile.

"He's too willing. He'd knock a lot of us around," whispered Stiver to

Dutton.

"We'll postpone your initiation," remarked the Captain of Company A.

"Come on, fellows, there goes tattoo. Half an hour to lights out."

Matters more quickly adjusted themselves following the opening of the

winter term, than they did at the beginning of the fall one, as there

were fewer new cadets. Lessons were quickly under way, together with a

few drills, out of doors when the weather permitted it, otherwise in the

big hall.

The lake froze over, and Dick and the other lads had their fill of

skating, races being held every afternoon. In a number of these,

particularly the long distance ones, Dick came in a winner.

Then there were snowball fights between the different companies, both on

foot and mounted on horses, with wooden shields. These were lively

affairs, and were enjoyed by all.

Dick took his part in the winter sports, but, though he had increased

his friends by the addition of several freshmen, particularly Payson

Emery, the lad whose knocking down by Dutton he had resented, he made no

progress toward getting intimate with the upperclassmen.

"But I've got half a term yet," thought Dick.

With the advent of winter, affairs in the town of Kentfield, which was

about two miles from where the academy was located, became more lively.

There were theatrical and other entertainments, and the cadets, when

they could not get permission to attend these, used to run the guard.

Usually there was little risk in this, as the cadet officers would not

report their friends, unless some member of the academy faculty happened

to hear a late-staying party come sneaking in, and then the young

officer on guard knew he had to make some sort of a report or be

punished himself.

One night there was a large and rather fashionable dance given in town,

by some friends of Dutton's family. He was invited, together with some

of his cronies, but he was refused permission to go, as he had broken

several rules of late.

"Well, I'm going anyhow," he announced to Stiver. "I guess I can run the

guard all right, and get back. There are some girls I want to meet."

So Dutton and Stiver, and one or two others, went.

Dick was on guard, as it happened, at the barracks where Dutton and the

others had their rooms. He was patrolling his post long after midnight,

expecting soon to be relieved, when he saw some shadowy forms stealing

along the hedge.

"Halt!" he cried, bringing his rifle up.

"Gee! It's Hamilton!" he heard some one say, and he recognized Stiver's

voice.

"Then I guess it's all up with us," announced Dutton, straightening up,

and, with his chums, approaching Dick.

The young millionaire said nothing.

"Are you going to let us in? We haven't the countersign," said Dutton,

with an uneasy laugh.

"You can go in," replied Dick, producing the key to the front door.

"And I suppose you'll squeal in the morning," went on Dutton, as he and

his cronies entered.

Dick didn't answer.

"You should have known better than to risk going, Dutton," said Stiver.

"Of course he'll tell. He owes you too much not to."

But Dick didn't tell, and Dutton's breach of discipline was not

discovered.

Dick Hamilton's Cadet Days; Or, The Handicap of a Millionaire's Son · 第 20 / 31 章