MARK IN THE HOSPITAL.
"General Miles here? Who told you so?"
"I saw him myself. He just got off the train. And there's going to be a
review of the corps and a whole lot of stuff. Don't you hear those guns.
That's the salute, b'gee!"
Texas and Dewey paused in their excited conversation to listen to the
booming of the cannon to the west of the camp. And scarcely had the
sound ceased before the roll of a drum was heard coming from the guard
tent at the head of the A Company Street.
"That's the call to quarters, b'gee," continued the bearer of the news
excitedly. "I bet we're going to see some fun, Texas."
That "call to quarters" brought cadets from every direction hurrying
into camp to "spruce up," and "fall in;" but the two, who were seated on
a bench over by Trophy Point, did not even offer to move. For that call
to quarters had nothing to do with them; that was for old cadets, the
first classmen, and the yearlings.
When the battalion turned out for review in honor of its distinguished
guest nobody thought of putting them on exhibition.
The two sat looking at the line forming over by camp, and also at a
group of figures way down at the other end of the parade ground, a group
of blue-uniformed officers, with the West Point band at the head. It was
evidently the superintendent and his staff and the distinguished visitor
with him.
"Looks as if there's goin' to be high jinks roun' hyar," observed Texas.
"It's a shame Mark ain't hyar to see it."
Dewey assented to that emphatically, and Texas after a few moments of
moody thoughtfulness, continued:
"Hang them ole cadets!" he growled. "It makes me want to git up and
slash round some whenever I think of half o' that whole battalion
pitchin' in to punch a feller, because not one of 'em was man enough to
lick him in a square, stand-up fight. Tell you, it makes my blood boil!
An' they broke his shoulder, an' sent him to hospital, an' he too much
of a man to tell on 'em at that! The cowards!"
"That's what I say, too, b'gee!" chimed in Dewey. "Mark's the spunkiest
man that ever they laid eyes on."
"That's what he is," growled Texas. "Jes' think o' whar we'd be ef
twan't for him. We'd be lettin' them cadets haze us, that's what we
would."
"Never mind," said Dewey, prophetically. "Just wait till he's well
again, b'gee! And we'll stick by him meanwhile."
"Will we?" echoed Texas. "I couldn't tell in a thousands years what that
aire feller's done fo' me. An' I know one other besides us that'll stand
by him, too."
"Grace Fuller, you mean?"
"That's what I do! Ever since Mark swam out and near killed himself
savin' her from drownin' that girl's been the best friend ever he had.
You jes' ought to go over to the hospital an' see how she sends him
flowers an' fruit an' things. They let her in to sit with him an' talk
to him where they won't let us plebes near him."
"B'gee, I don't blame 'em!" laughed Dewey. "They're afraid of you over
there, since they had to nurse you after you rode out and 'held up' the
artillery squadron at drill. But I tell you, Mark's in luck to have
Grace spooney over him. She's the most beautiful girl I ever saw, and
she's the belle of this place. I declare I can hardly believe it, that
she's joined with us plebes to fool the yearlings."
"She's jes' full o' fun," laughed Texas, "but I reckon the great
reason's cause she's so fond o' Mark. I wish I had his luck. I jes'
stand off, 'n look at her and wonder s'posin' 'twas me--dog gone it!"
Texas saw an amused smile begin to flit about his companion's merry
face; he suspected he was about to "remind" that cheerful recounter of a
yarn; so he stopped.
"Tell you what," he continued after some more thinking. "I know 'nother
girl that's dead gone on Mark."
"B'gee!" cried Dewey in surprise. "Who's that?"
"'Moll' Adams."
"Who on earth is she?"
"I reckon she came in afore you met us," mused Texas. "Yes, 'twas 'fore
you joined the Banded Seven. You know Bull Harris?"
"B'gee!" laughed Dewey. "Didn't I lick the cuss once?"
"That's so," said Texas. "I forgot. Well, Bull--'twas jes' like him--was
botherin' this girl down on the road to Highland Falls one day. He had
hold of her arm an' she was fightin' to git away or somethin'. Anyhow
Mark knocked him down, which was the beginnin' of all this hazin'
business. Bull got all his yearlin' gang after Mark. After that Mark did
her 'nother favor, got her brother out of a terrible scrape. An' I think
she's been mighty fond of him ever since."
"B'gee!" laughed Dewey. "This is real romantic. What makes you think
so?"
"I've seen her hangin' roun' the hospital inquirin' fo' Mark. An' I can
tell by the way she looks at him. I don't think she likes to see him so
chummy with Grace."
"That's more romantic yet," chuckled Dewey. "Why don't Mark care for
her?"
"You see," said Texas, "some o' the cadets, one of 'em a pretty decent
feller, a friend o' Mark's, told him that she waren't--she waren't quite
right. She's somethin' of a flirt, you know. I don't like girls that
kind much myself an' I'm sure Mark don't. He's kep' pretty shy o' her,
an' I kinder think she's noticed it."
"Is she pretty?" inquired the other.
"She's mos' as pretty as Grace," responded Texas. "An' that's sayin' a
deal. She's what you call a brunette--black hair an' eyes. There's some
girls a feller feels are all right; he feels he's a better feller when
he's with them. Grace Fuller's one of 'em. She's jes' the angel we call
her. Then there's some that ain't, an' this girl's one of them."
"Quite a character analysis," laughed the other. "But I guess, b'gee,
you're right, all the same. And speaking of unpleasant characters,
there's that Bull Harris. We haven't heard from him for a long time."
"I reckon," said Texas, "Bull's been wantin' to see what the first
class'd do to Mark since he'd failed to haze him. I reckon the durty ole
rascal's right well satisfied now."
"You don't love him much," observed the other.
"Why should I? Ain't he tried every mean kid trick he could think of on
Mark an' me, too? He's all right to bully girls but when he tried Mark
now, he found he'd hit a snag. He's been doin' nothin' ever since but
tryin' to get us into scrapes. An' I was thinkin' to-day, 'tain't no
lucky sign he's quiet. I jes' reckon he's plottin' some new durnation
trick."
"I wish he'd come on with it," laughed Dewey. "Life is getting really
monotonous the last two days since Mark's been in hospital. We've been
having so many lively and interesting brushes with the cadets, b'gee,
that I can't get along without some excitement at least every day."
"I reckon it'll come soon enough," observed Texas. "An' they say when
you speak of angels they flap their wings. I wonder how 'bout devils.
There's ole Bull Harris now, the third feller from the right in the
front rank of A."
"And he's going out to salute the general," observed Dewey. "I wish we
had another bloodhound now so's we could put it on his trail the way we
did once. B'gee, but he was mad!"
As the two had been talking the battalion had formed on the company
ground; roll call had passed quickly, and the cadet adjutant had turned
the parade over to the charge of the tactical officer, Lieutenant Allen.
The latter's sharp commands had rung out a moment later and the
firmly-stepping lines had swung around and were now well on their way
down the parade ground, at the other end of which stood the famous
general and his staff.
It was an inspiring moment. The air seemed fairly to shake with the gay
music of the band. The cadet's uniforms and equipments were glittering
in the sunlight, their banners waving on the breeze. They wheeled like
so many splendid pieces of mechanism and in a few moments more were
standing at "present arms" in one long line that extended the width of
the field.
The officers brought their swords up to the salute and the spectators
cheered, as a handsome figure rode out from the group of officers and
cantered down the line. It was General Miles himself, a fine military
figure, striking and imposing. The cadets would have cheered him, too,
if they had dared.
During this interesting ceremony our two friends of the plebe class had
gotten up and started on a run for the scene. They had been so much
interested in their discussion of "Meg" Adams and Bull Harris that they
had forgotten all about watching this. But by the time they got there
the review was over, and the cadets had scattered once more. This time
to prepare for exhibition drill of the afternoon.
The two wandered about disconsolately after that, Texas growling at
Dewey for having talked too much. And then suddenly the former stopped
short and stared at his friend.
"I know what I'm going to do!" he declared.
"What?"
"I'm a-goin' to see Mark."
"I thought they wouldn't let you in," laughed Dewey.
"I'm a-goin' all the same," vowed the other. "Ef they won't let me I'll
make 'em. Jes' you watch me!"
And with that the impulsive Texan faced about and set out for the
hospital in a hurry.