CHASING A SPEEDING DESERTER
INSTEAD of one, there were two flying bodies headed toward the gully's
bottom. Corporal Noll Terry, standing there, had heard the ominous
crackle of snapping wood.
If there is one thing that a soldier is taught above another, it is to
think and move swiftly at a critical moment.
Noll saw the tree trunk sag downward, in just the fraction of a second
ere it broke.
Nor did Corporal Terry wait to see more.
With his eyes on his bunkie, Terry made a prompt leap downward.
He had the advantage of landing on his feet. He was jarred, but there
was no time to stop to think of that.
At a bound he was far enough forward, his arms outstretched, to swing
hold of head-downward Hal Overton.
The impact might have been too much. Sergeant Hal might even yet have
landed on his head. But, as he threw him arms around Hal, Corporal Terry
threw himself over backward.
He fell with a thump, but was shaken up--no bones broken.
Sergeant Hal landed on top of his bunkie unhurt.
In an instant they separated, each leaping to his feet.
The falling halves of the tree trunk had fallen perilously close to the
boyish non-coms., yet by a stroke of good fortune neither of the
comrades had been struck.
"Thank you, old bunkie! The best ever!" glowed Hal, as without a
backward look he raced to pick up his wheel. "Hurt?"
"Not a bit," gasped Noll, his wind jarred out of him for the moment.
"Then I'll finish the ride!"
To the thrilled, throbbing spectators there did not come a thought of
"accident."
Clearly this whole splendid scene had been only a glimpse of practical
military training.
It had all been planned, of course, so the audience supposed, that the
tree trunk should snap and that the other young sergeant should be there
to perform the swift work of rescue.
Even at that it was a wonderful sight, and again the spectators were on
their feet, cheering more hoarsely than ever.
Yet hardly had they started to cheer when, some how, in a way they did
not quite grasp, Sergeant Hal Overton had climbed up out of the gully,
carrying his wheel with him.
Now he was mounted again! On the further side of the gully the young
Army dispatch rider was racing forward again.
His wheel, somewhat damaged by the fall, was moving stiffly now, but
Overton put into his pedaling every ounce of energy left to him.
In another moment he was out of sight, his dispatch-bearing ride ended,
and the band leader stopped his musicians.
In this startling scene the onlookers felt that they had viewed the best
piece of individual daring of the afternoon.
Little did they guess that they had seen the failure of a scoundrel's
dastardly attempt to end Sergeant Overton's life.
But grizzled old Colonel North, of the Thirty-fourth United States
Infantry, knew better.
"Cortland," he remarked, turning to B Company's captain, "just as soon
as the last number is over I want you to make an instant and red-hot
investigation of that accident to Sergeant Overton. Report to me as soon
as you have even the trace of a suggestion to make."
"Yes, sir; and I have one suggestion to make now," replied Captain
Cortland.
"What is it?"
"I ask you, sir, to oblige me very greatly by promising a warrant at
once for Corporal Terry's promotion to sergeant."
"By Jove, young Terry earned it!" agreed Colonel North.
"Yes, sir; and, to my way of thinking, he did more. He proved that B
Company cannot afford to be without a sergeant of his proved calibre."
"Go to Wright, the battalion adjutant, then, and tell him, with my
compliments, to prepare an order at once, for reading at the dress
parade which is to end up the afternoon's show."
"Very good, sir."
"And, Cortland, ask Wright, as a personal favor to me, to read the order
slowly and distinctly, so that the audience can grasp the fact that
they've witnessed a deed of heroism and its prompt reward in the Army."
"A splendid idea, sir!"
At the close of the afternoon's fast and furious work came a spectacle
such as doubtless no one in the audience had ever seen before.
The three fighting arms of the service--artillery, cavalry and
infantry--combined at dress parade.
The ceremony, as enacted that afternoon, possessed all the fervor and
solemnity of a religious rite.
When it came to the publication of orders appointing Corporal Oliver
Terry a sergeant in recognition of unusual bravery and judgment in
saving a comrade's life, only a small percentage of the on-looking,
listening thousands grasped the importance or meaning of the promotion
of one young soldier.
No matter! All would read about it in the Denver papers the next
morning.
At the firing of retreat gun three military bands combined in the
playing of "The Star Spangled Banner."
Then, as the troops marched off, all was over as far as the audience was
concerned.
Captain Cortland, however, had no sooner dismissed his company than he
turned back to the field, to go to the gully to investigate the matter
of the broken log. Lieutenant Prescott went with him.
Over back of one of the cook tents, however, a plain soldier man was
already arriving at the truth.
"Hinkey, come over here!" called Private Slosson.
There was something in this soldier's voice which made Private Hinkey
feel that perhaps it would not be altogether wise to disregard this
request that sounded so much to him like an order.
"Hinkey," continued Private Slosson, "'twas a near escape from breaking
his neck that Sergeant Overton had this afternoon."
"That's no concern of mine, I guess," murmured Hinkey.
"Then it ought to be," retorted Private Slosson with considerable
warmth. "Hinkey, you had me guessing yesterday and this forenoon, you
were so full of industry. And that put me in mind. I saw you coming down
from near the gully this morning, and you had something hidden under
your coat."
The fingers that held Hinkey's cigarette began to tremble.
"What do you mean, Slosson?"
"Well, first of all, the thing you had under your coat was a saw. I saw
you hide something under the woodpile here, but I'm so dumb that I
didn't think much of it at the time. Now, the log over the gully was a
spruce log, wasn't it?"
"I don't know."
"Well, I do," replied Slosson, "and we haven't been using much spruce
timber around here, either. So I looked over the saw. Hinkey, between
the teeth is quite a little bit of what looks mighty like spruce
sawdust. Queer, ain't it?"
"I don't know," replied Private Hinkey, speaking bravely, though his
face now looked bloodless and his lips were quivering.
"Spruce sawdust in the saw you handled," continued Slosson mercilessly.
"And say, the saw cut in the log over at the gully was pasted with
putty, and then bark bits stuck on, to hide the cut. Wasn't that the way
it was done?"
"How should I know?" snarled Private Hinkey, trying to glare back into
the accusing eyes of Private Slosson.
"Why I asked," continued the latter soldier, "was because I've just been
taking a look at the service clothes you wore this morning, and I find
putty marks in several places on the trousers."
Hinkey realized that he had been unmasked. Moreover, only one look into
Slosson's eyes was needed for making sure that the accusing soldier was
not going to keep still about it.
With a sudden snarl of rage, Hinkey sprang forward, driving his hard
right fist squarely into Slosson's left eye and knocking that soldier
down.
Then, without loss of a second, Hinkey made a dive for the nearest gate
of the grounds. As he ran at top speed Private Hinkey then and there, so
far as he was personally concerned, ended his connection with the
regular Army of the United States.
Private Slosson, holding his eye and feeling weak and dizzy, shouted:
"Some one run after Hinkey, B Company, and catch him!"
The call brought several men, among them Lieutenant Hampton, of B
Company.
"What has Hinkey done?" demanded the lieutenant, running up.
"He knocked me down, and then deserted, sir."
"Why, my man?"
"Because he fixed the tree trunk in the way that nearly cost Sergeant
Overton his life, and I just showed Hinkey that I had all the proof.
You'll not see the fellow again, sir, unless you're swift."
Lieutenant Hampton bounded to the gateway. Down the street he saw
Private Hinkey, running like a deer and already near a street corner.
Hal Overton was the only sergeant close enough for the lieutenant's
purpose.
"Sergeant Overton, take four men, pursue Hinkey and bring him back
here," ordered Lieutenant Hampton.
Hal reached the gateway just in time to see Hinkey running around the
street corner.
In a twinkling Hal and four soldiers were hot-foot after the suspected
deserter.
But Hinkey was out of sight now. As he reached the middle of the block
into which he had turned, a man in his shirt sleeves, standing idly in a
doorway called out softly:
"Jump in behind me, comrade, if you're in trouble and being chased."
Hinkey stopped pantingly, giving the man a swift look. That glance was
enough to show the deserting soldier that he had met a kindred spirit.
"Thanks. I'll accept," muttered Hinkey, darting into the doorway.
The man who had hailed him pulled the door shut just before Sergeant Hal
and four soldiers ran around the corner above.
"What's that soldier been doing that ran by here so fast?" called the
citizen in shirt sleeves.
"Which way did he go?" asked Hal swiftly, halting just an instant.
"See the next corner?"
"Yes."
"Your man turned there--to the left. You fellows will have to double
your speed if you're ever going to catch that soldier."
"Put on all the steam you can, men," Hal called back over his shoulder
as he once more started in what he believed to be pursuit.
Chuckling softly, the citizen opened the door, closed it again and went
inside to tell Hinkey why he had saved him.
It was a full hour before Sergeant Hal Overton again reported back at
camp on the grounds.
He had come back at last, forced to admit himself baffled.
"You did all you could, Sergeant," replied Captain Cortland, who had
just returned to the company street. "Hinkey will be caught, sooner or
later."
Then, turning to First Sergeant Gray, who had just come up, Captain
Cortland smiled as he added:
"Sergeant Gray, I wonder if Hinkey is still running. If he runs long
enough he'll probably fall in with some muck-raking magazine writer,
who'll get out of Hinkey a startling story of why some soldiers insist
on deserting the Army."
"Captain," replied Sergeant Gray, "I could tell those magazine writers a
good deal about why men desert from the Army, sir. But the magazine
writers wouldn't want my story of why men desert."
"What would your story be, Sergeant?"
"Why, sir, I'd tell those writers--and prove it by the records--that the
men who desert from the Army are the same worthless, skulking vagabonds
who are always getting bounced out of jobs in civil life because they're
no good anywhere."
"That's the whole story, Sergeant Gray," nodded Captain Cortland.
"I know it, sir; I haven't been in the Army all these years not to have
found out that much."
Just then Noll Terry appeared on the scene, wearing his newly won
sergeant's chevrons.
Captain Cortland's inquiry into the cause of the accident to Sergeant
Overton was concluded by taking the sworn testimony of Private Slosson.
The papers were then filed away to be used in case the deserter Hinkey
should be apprehended.