THE PLEBES PLOT, TOO.
Mark found the object of his search on the hotel piazza, looking as
beautiful and attractive as his mind could imagine. As it proved, she
was fully as anxious to see him as he was to see her; she was curious to
hear about "Texas."
"So he has promised never to do it again!" she said, when Mark had told
her of Powers' "reformation." "I thought he would do anything for you.
Poor Texas fairly worships the ground you walk on."
"He has promised never to drink, anyhow," responded Mark. "It was very
funny to see how long it took him to get the idea into his head that it
was wrong. It's just as I told you, and as I told the superintendent,
too; down where he comes from it's the custom when a man wants to have
fun he drinks all the whiskey he can to start him. And Texas thought
he'd try it up here."
"He certainly did have fun," exclaimed the girl, breaking into one of
her merry laughs at the recollection of the scene.
"I had been having a pretty exciting time myself," he said, "trying to
keep Texas quiet. And when those huge horses took fright and started to
dash into the crowd, I had still more of it."
"I think you were perfectly splendid!" cried the girl, clasping her
hands in alarm even as she thought of the occurrence. "When you came
dashing down on your horse and sprang in to head them off, my heart
fairly stopped beating. But I knew you would do it; I have always said
you would never stop at any danger, and father agrees with me, too."
There was a moment's silence after that; and then Mark, who was anxious
to get at the important business of the morning, thought it a good time
to begin.
"I've something more interesting to discuss, anyway," he added. "And
I've only a very few minutes before drill in which to talk it over with
you. I've taken the trouble to get a permit from headquarters and all to
run over and ask you, so you mustn't delay me by compliments. That's my
province, anyway--and duty."
"That was a very neat one," laughed Grace Fuller. "I declare, you are
quite a cavalier. But excuse me for wasting the valuable time of the
house. What is the matter?"
"I've a scheme," responded Mark.
The girl lost all her bantering manner in a moment; she saw the twinkle
in Mark's eyes, and knew that some fun was coming.
"Is this another plan for worrying the unfortunate yearlings?" she
inquired.
"It is," said he. "I've no time to think up any other kind of plans just
at present. You see they get up so many against me that I am busy all
the time holding up my end. If it were not for your aid I am afraid I
should have failed before this."
"Have they prepared a new one already?"
By way of answer Mark took out the "invitation."
"Read that," he said, "and see."
Grace took it and glanced at it, a look of surprise spreading over her
face.
"Why, I have one just like it!" she cried. "But where on earth did you
get this?"
"It was sent to our friend Chauncey," answered the plebe. "You see the
yearlings thought he would take the bait and come; being rather weak on
the point of his aristocracy, he was supposed to fall right into the
trap and consider it a recognition of his social rank. Then when he came
he'd have no one to dance with, and would be a laughingstock generally."
"I see," said the girl. "It was a nice tribute to our common sense."
"Ours!" laughed Mark. "The yearlings have small idea that you are
sympathizing with the plebes."
"Well, I am," vowed the other. "With you, anyway, and I do not care in
the least how soon they know it. I told father, and he said I was quite
right. I don't like hazing."
"You may have a chance to let them know it publicly very soon,"
responded Mark, gazing at her sweet face gratefully. "That's what I came
over to see you about. You see we want to accept the invitation."
"Accept it! Why, that would be walking right into the trap!"
"That's just exactly what I mean to do. Only I mean to put a hole in the
other side first, so that I can walk out again and run off with traps
and trappers and trappings and all."
"How do you mean?"
"You are not as acute as usual," laughed Mark. "I had expected that by
this time you would have guessed the secret."
"You don't mean to go and dance?"
"Exactly," said Mark.
Grace Fuller glanced at him in horror for a moment, and then as she saw
his merry eyes twinkle a vague idea of what he meant began to occur to
her. She began to see the possibilities of the affair, just as Mark had
seen them. He might get all the girls to dance with him; he might have
the yearlings perfectly furious, raving; he might dump West Point
traditions all at once, all in a heap, and with a dull, sickening thud
at that.
As she began to realize all this, Mark was gazing into her eyes; he saw
them begin to dance and twinkle just as his had. And he laughed softly
to himself.
"Our angel has not failed us," he whispered. "I knew she would not. Will
you help us?"
And Grace answered simply that she would. But she set her teeth together
with a snap that meant much.
It meant that Mark Mallory was to be the first plebe ever to dance at a
West Point hop.