"It's mighty good to hear you say that," replied Noll Terry almost gratefully. "But I'm afraid we have a fearful lot ahead of us to learn. It will take an awfully long time to learn all we have got to know, I fear."

"A recruit generally stays about three months at the rendezvous," Hal went on. "After that he's drafted to his regiment, sent away to join it, and then he's a real soldier at last."

"With still a lot to learn, though," added Noll.

"Yes," Hal assented. "I imagine that the real soldier always learns as long as he remains in the service."

After a long walk, doubling back and forth over some roads and paths several times, our young rookies found themselves looking at the water by the Jersey end of the island.

"I wonder if we'd be allowed to go over there by the water's edge!" suggested Hal. "It would be fine to sit down there and hear the waves lap up against the shore. I don't want to go in yet, Noll, but I am tired enough to want to sit down."

"Here comes some one in uniform," murmured Noll.

It was a sergeant passing, though one the rookies had not seen before.

"Sergeant," called Hal, "may I ask you a question?"

"Of course," answered the sergeant, halting and regarding them.

"We're rookies; just joined to-day," continued Hal. "We were wondering if it would be any breach of discipline for us to go over there by the shore and sit down near the water for a while."

"There's no rule against it," replied the sergeant. "But I'd advise you to be back before taps, for it generally takes a recruit some time to get his bed made right."

"Thank you, Sergeant. We'll be sure to go back in time."

As the sergeant passed on Hal and Noll headed for the shore.

"Here's as good a place as any, Noll," said Hal, as they reached the shore. He pointed to a little depression in the ground. There was a little rise of ground before them as they threw themselves down flat, though it did not wholly shut off their view of the water.

Little waves lapped up monotonously against the beach.

"My, but that's a sound to make one drowsy," laughed Noll contentedly.

"We mustn't let it have that effect on us," uttered Hal, half in alarm. "I am tired, but it would never do to fall asleep here and be late at tattoo. I don't know what kind of scrape that would get us into."

"Do you know," went on Noll, "this day's doings all seem like parts of a dream to me. I can't realize, yet, that I'm a soldier. I suppose it's because we haven't our uniforms yet."

"That has something to do with it, of course," nodded Hal. "I thought this a pretty good suit of clothes when I left home, but now I feel actually shabby and fearfully awkward when I look about me at older recruits in their snappy uniform. It'll really seem like a big load off my mind, Noll, when I find myself in the blue."

"The fellows tell me that a rookie generally has his first issue of uniform in about three days," said Noll. "That won't be so very long to wait."

"Won't it, though?" almost grumbled Hal. "Any time at all is too long to wait, when we've been dreaming so long about wearing the uniform."

"Why, we'd be a discredit to the uniform at present," smiled Noll. "Think how awkward we looked and felt, and were to-day. It seemed as though it were going to be simply impossible to learn the first steps of a soldier's business."

"We'll learn faster, now," suggested Hal; "now that Shrimp has gone out of our lives."

"Has he gone out of our lives, I wonder?" mused Noll.

"Say," hinted Hal, "I'd have given a lot to have seen Tip Branders drilling under Shrimp."

"I don't suppose we'll be very likely to see Tip again, for some years," suggested Noll.

In this he was in error, as will presently appear.

"How's the time running along, I wonder?" was Noll's next thought.

Hal drew his watch from a pocket, laid it on the ground, and struck a match, screening the blaze with his hands.

"We've nearly an hour yet," Overton answered.

"I don't know but we'd better go back before we have to," ventured Noll. "Hullo, there's a boat out there, putting in this way."

Though neither of the boys knew it some of the glow of the burning match had been visible in the darkness out on the water, and this boat was coming in answer to a fancied signal.

"I'm going to watch that boat a bit," whispered Hal in his chum's ear.

"Why?"

"Well, I don't believe it has any right to land here at night. Any boatman here on honest business ought to go around to the dock, I think."

"Pooh!" breathed Noll.

"Don't make any noise, anyway."

It was very dark, but the rookies could see a small rowboat head into the beach just a little way below them. There was one man in the boat, and he promptly sounded a low, cautious whistle. It was answered from behind the young recruits, somewhere. Then the sound of steps.

Some one was approaching, and the boatman, standing up in his craft, listened, then called in a low voice:

"That you, Sim?"

"Yep."

"Good!" answered the boatman. "I got your word, 'phoned from New York. I've got cit clothes for you in the boat, also a weight to sink your uniform with, when you make the change."

Now the newcomer trod down straight past the place of concealment of the boys. Something in his figure was wholly familiar.

"Why, that's Corporal Shrimp!" called Hal, springing up and running down toward the shore. Noll followed his chum on the instant, both arriving at once.

"Well, what do you rookies want here?" demanded Shrimp, turning upon them with an oath.

"I guess we're here on duty," clicked Hal resolutely. "You're supposed to be in arrest, Corporal, and here you are leaving the post on the sly!"

"I'm out of arrest, and on duty. Stand aside!" snarled Shrimp, his look becoming very ugly.

"Is it a kind of duty that calls for you to sneak away in this fashion, put on citizen's clothes, and sink your uniform in the bay?" demanded Private Overton mockingly. "If you tell me that, Corporal, I don't believe you."

Corporal Shrimp uttered another ugly oath. Then, with a flashing movement, he drew a service revolver from under his blouse and thrust the muzzle almost in Private Overton's face.



CHAPTER VII

WHEN THE GUARD CAME

"LOOK out, Sim Shrimp!" called the boatman quickly, warningly.

For, while Hal had stood looking gamely at the revolver, Noll Terry had side-stepped, and now leaped at the corporal.

Whack! Noll struck up the glinting barrel of the weapon.

Private Overton, seeming to move in the same instant, leaped forward in front.

Bang! The revolver was discharged, but harmlessly into the air, as both rookies tackled the corporal and bore him to the ground.

"Help, here, Bill!" cried Shrimp, as he found himself going over backward.

The boatman leaned over to snatch up an oar. As he rose with it he saw Private Hal Overton rise with the corporal's revolver in his hand.

"Stay where you are, Corporal, and don't make any fuss," advised Hal grimly. "Your friend had better stay where he is if he doesn't want to know what it feels like to have a bullet going through him."

"Drop that gun, and let me up! Get out of my way," ordered Shrimp. "You're interfering with me in the discharge of my duty, and I'll put you both in a lot of trouble."

"Don't you try to get up," ordered Noll, who had thrown himself across the corporal and was holding him down.

"Sentry!" yelled Hal. "Sentry."

He should have called, "Corporal of the guard!" but he didn't know that.

Another shot at some distance was heard, followed by a lusty shout from a sentry of:

"Corporal of the guard, post number seven!"

"Let me up out of this, and I'll let you both off," proposed Corporal Simeon Shrimp.

"You'll stay just where you are," ordered Hal, "and I give you my word that, if I see any signs of your trying to escape, I'll drill you through with all the bullets this revolver carries."

Running feet were now coming rapidly their way.

"Lemme go—boys, do," pleaded the corporal brokenly, terror ringing in his voice. "Boys, you don't know what fearful trouble you'll get me into."

"That's a different song," retorted Private Hal Overton dryly. "But it wouldn't do any good to let you go now. Your friend has shoved off, and is rowing like mad."

The steps of running men now came nearer.



"This way, Corporal of the guard!" called Private Overton.

In another moment the corporal and two men of the guard raced to the spot.

"This is Corporal Shrimp. He was under arrest, and trying to escape," announced Hal. "There was a friend of his here with a boat, and he's out yonder now, Corporal, trying to get away."

"Load with ball cartridge, hail that boat, and fire if the man doesn't come about promptly and row in," ordered the corporal, turning to one of the members of the guard.

The soldier so directed loaded his rifle like lightning.

"Boat ahoy, turn about and come back!" shouted the soldier.

There was no answer from the water.

"Turn about and come back," repeated the soldier.

Still no answer. Then, after a third hail, the soldier raised his rifle to his shoulder, sighting as best he could in the darkness.

Bang! The rifle spat forth a jet of fire and sent a bullet whistling over the water.

"Send a couple of more shots after him," ordered the corporal.

Still no answer from out on the water. And, by this time, the boat was so far away in the darkness that it was impossible to judge in which direction to aim.

"Cease firing. The rascal has escaped," said the corporal of the guard. "You are recruits, aren't you?" turning to Hal and Noll.

"Yes, Corporal."

"You're right about Corporal Shrimp being in arrest. Corporal, you've taken a long chance in breaking your arrest like this."

Shrimp said not a word. He was cunning enough to know that nothing he could say now would help his case any.

Suddenly one of the two members of the guard stepped forward, bringing his rifle to port.

"Halt!" he called. "Who goes there?"

"Sergeant of the guard," replied another voice out of the darkness.

"Advance, Sergeant of the guard, to be recognized."

Not only the sergeant came forward, but four other members of the guard with him.

"Corporal Shrimp, breaking arrest and attempting to desert, Sergeant," reported the corporal of the guard.

"Shrimp, what a fool you've been to-day!" muttered Sergeant Collins. "Let him up, men. Hold out your hands, Corporal Shrimp. I've got to do it."

His face sallow with dread and humiliation, Shrimp held out his hands, while the sergeant snapped a pair of handcuffs into place over his wrists.

"March the prisoner to the guard-house, Corporal," directed the sergeant of the guard. Then he turned to Private Hal, who still held the revolver.

"You two are recruits?"

"Yes, Sergeant."

"You stopped the prisoner from escaping?"

"Yes, Sergeant."

"Where did you get that revolver?"

"It is the one that Corporal Shrimp drew on us when we attempted to prevent him from escaping."

"You took it away from him in a scuffle?"

"Yes, Sergeant."

"Mighty fine work for a pair of young recruits," declared Sergeant Collins promptly. "Your names?"

Hal and Noll informed the sergeant of the guard on this point as the sergeant turned on his way back to the guard-house.

"You'll come with me, Overton and Terry. The officer of the day will need to hear your statements."

"We'll not be censured, Sergeant, for being late at the squad room?"

"Hardly," came the dry retort. "You're now under orders from the guard. Don't worry, men."

Shrimp's voice was audible once more. He was swearing volubly over the trick that fate had played him.

"Stop that prisoner's swearing," ordered Sergeant Collins sharply.

In a short time the guard party reached the post guard-house.

Lieutenant Mayberry, officer of the day, stood just outside of the door.

"What have you there, Corporal?" asked Lieutenant Mayberry curiously.

"Corporal Shrimp, sir, for breaking arrest and attempting to desert, sir," replied the corporal of the guard, bringing his hand to his piece in a rifle salute, which the officer of the day acknowledge by bringing his right hand up to the visor of his cap.

"Where did you catch him?"

"At the shore, sir, over there," replied the corporal of the guard, pointing.

"There's no sentry post over there, Corporal."

"No, sir; the prisoner was caught by two rook—recruits, sir."

"Two recruits?"

"Yes, sir."

"Where are they?"

"Coming, sir, with the sergeant of the guard."

At this moment Sergeant Collins stepped forward into the light.

"These are the two recruits, sir, who caught the prisoner," announced Sergeant Collins, making the rifle salute.

"Your names and company, men?" asked Lieutenant Mayberry.

"Private Overton, A Company, sir," replied Hal, saluting.

"Private Terry, A Company, sir," from Noll.

"How long have you men been on post?" asked the officer of the guard.

"Since about noon, to-day, sir." Hal was spokesman this time.

"And you've already started your Army career by catching a man in the act of desertion?" cried the lieutenant. "Men, you're beginning well. Corporal, lock the prisoner in a cell. Then report to me at my desk. Sergeant, bring Privates Overton and Terry inside with you."

Hal and Noll, the sergeant and the corporal soon stood grouped before the desk of the officer of the day. Sergeant Collins had turned over the revolver that Private Hal had taken from Shrimp.

Lieutenant Mayberry listened with very evident interest as the story of the capture was unfolded to him.

"Corporal, did you see the boat in question?" asked the officer of the day, at last.

"Yes, sir, though very indistinctly, in the distance. It was out of sight in the darkness, an instant after, sir."

"But there can be no doubt that the boat was there, Corporal?"

"I am absolutely certain of it, sir," replied the corporal.

"That is all, now," finished Lieutenant Mayberry. "Overton and Terry, I am going to commend you, in an off-hand way, now, for your judgment and intelligence to-night. You have made an excellent beginning. You may very likely hear from the commanding officer later."

At that moment a bugle call was heard.

"That's taps, isn't it?" asked Hal, realizing for the first time how time had passed at the guard-house.

"Yes," replied Sergeant Collins. "Tattoo went some time ago."

"You won't find yourselves in any trouble, men," broke in Lieutenant Mayberry, with a slight smile. "Report to the non-commissioned officer in charge of your squad room that you have been at the guard-house under orders."

As soon as dismissed Hal and Noll made a swift spurt for barracks.

"Too bad, the first night, men," said Sergeant Brimmer quietly, meeting them just inside the door of the squad room.

Hal promptly accounted for both himself and his chum.

"Whew!" whistled the startled sergeant softly. "You caught Corporal Shrimp in the act of deserting? Men, your time to get square came around soon, didn't it?"

"We didn't do it to get square, Sergeant," replied Hal. "We did it as a matter of military duty."

"Well, go softly to your beds, men. I'll go with you, to see that you make 'em up according to rule."

As Sergeant Brimmer went back to his own iron cot he muttered to himself:

"Caught Shrimp, and turned him over to the guard! Those lads are going to make good soldiers. And it won't pay any comrade to make enemies of them needlessly."



CHAPTER VIII

THE CALL TO COMPANY FORMATION

UNIFORMED rookies at last!

How proud each of our young rookies felt when at last he had a chance to survey himself in a glass.

Never, it seemed, had uniforms fitted quite as neatly before.

Never, at all events, had young recruits felt any keener delight than did Hal and Noll when they found themselves in their first infantry uniforms.

From that happy instant they were looked upon as the two brightest, keenest recruits on post.

On the first day of their uniformed lives Sergeant Brimmer came to them.

"You are directed to fall in at parade, this afternoon, without arms. At formation I will place you in the rear rank."

Though they had their uniforms, their rifles had not yet been issued.

"What does it all mean?" wondered Noll. "We're not promoted to the company yet. We're not out of the squad work yet."

"We can wait to find out what it means," Hal answered. "It won't be many hours till parade time, now."

Then, at the bugle call, these young soldiers hurried outside, where Corporal Davis formed them and marched them away.

Having finished with the "school of the soldier" our two rookies were now in the "school of the squad."

In a company of infantry the squad consists of seven privates and a corporal. Marching in column of twos, or in column of fours, the corporal's place is on the left of the front rank of the squad; he himself makes the eighth man. But, for purposes of instructing recruits, the squad consists of eight rookies and a corporal.

Davis now led them away to the field, where he halted them.

"We will first," he announced, "take up the six setting-up drills of the manual, and go through with them three or four times. You men will do it as snappily as possible to-day."

These exercises consist of various gymnastic movements with the arms, of bending until the hands touch the ground, and of leg-raising work. The setting-up drills are very similar to ordinary work without apparatus in a gymnasium—but with this difference: the rookie is made to go through with them more and more snappily each time that he is set to the work. The result is that, within a few weeks, an awkward and perhaps shuffling, shambling young man is trained and built into the erect, alert, snappy and dignified soldier.

The setting-up work performed, Corporal Davis next drilled the rookies in alignments, interval-taking, marchings, turnings and "about," which corresponds to the old-time "about-face." It might be well to remark that all military commands in these days, have been greatly simplified as compared with the old style of doing things.

Davis was an alert and industrious instructor, yet he abused none of the men, nor ever lost his patience. He was making rapid progress with this squad.

"Fall out," he called, from time to time.

"To-morrow you will have your arms issued to you," he announced during one of the rests. "Then you will learn the manual of arms, and also how to march with arms. Your work will be harder, but you're being prepared for harder work now."

By this time Hal and Noll had been in the Army nearly three weeks. Some of the rookies in the same squad had been in the service considerably longer. The length of time that he remains a recruit depends very much upon the rookie himself.

"Our arms?" said Noll to his chum. "That's the last step toward being a real soldier."

"No; the last step is when your company commander pronounces you a qualified private soldier," rejoined Hal Overton. "And that's after you've been drafted into a real regiment, at that."

The loneliness had all vanished now. Both Hal and Noll were now wholly in love with the life, and anxious for the day when they should be sent forth to their regiment. They had requested that they be sent to the same regiment, and had little doubt but that their wish would be granted.

No longer did the arduous work make them tired. Instead, the steady, brisk and systematic exercise left them keen and very much alive when the command "dismissed" came.

At last a bugle sounded the recall for the rookie squads. Corporal Davis finished the instruction in which he was engaged, then called out:

"Halt! Dismissed."

In an instant the rookies left the ranks, glad of a bit of play-time before supper.

But Davis called after two of them:

"Overton and Terry, don't forget that you're under orders to report at company formation before parade this afternoon."

"We won't forget it, Corporal," Hal answered.

"Why are you ordered to company formation?" asked one of the men of the squad curiously.

"We haven't the least idea," Hal answered frankly.

"Oh, well, I can be near enough to find out," rejoined the curious one.

"Say," suggested Noll almost excitedly, "it can't be that we're considered far enough advanced to turn out with the company?"

"Hardly likely," murmured Hal, "when we don't know the manual of arms yet."

"Then what——"

"Wait."

Yet Hal Overton was certainly decidedly curious, despite his coolness. Both our young rookies hung about until they heard first call for parade. Then they hurried toward the company parade ground.

Soon the fall-in order was given, and the older rookies fell in under arms. Sergeant Brimmer, true to his word, stepped up and placed Hal and Noll six paces to the rear of the second platoon.

"Obey all orders that do not call for the manual of arms," was his parting instruction. Then Brimmer went to his own position.

The company was assembled, roll-call followed and there was a brief inspection of arms. While this was going on the post adjutant appeared and took up post.

"Publish the orders," commanded the captain, at last.

From the breast of his blouse the adjutant drew forth an official paper. While the men in ranks stood at order arms, the adjutant read aloud:

"'For exceptional zeal, intelligence and loyalty in preventing the escape and attempted desertion of a prisoner, Recruit Privates Overton and Terry are hereby commended.'"

This was signed by the post commander.

Now Sergeant Brimmer stepped over to Hal and Noll with military stride, saying briskly:

"Recruit Privates Overton and Terry dismissed."

That was all. Brimmer was already on his way back to his own post.

"Was that all we turned out for with the company?" asked Noll in a low voice.

"Wasn't it enough?" retorted Hal in an equally low tone, as they watched the manoeuvres of the company at a distance.

"There's one thing we didn't get commended for in that order," Noll went on.

"What was that?"

"Well, we had to tackle an armed man when we went up against the Shrimp. The order didn't say anything about courage."

"That's because only exceptional courage is ever mentioned in orders," Hal explained. "Any soldier is expected to have courage enough to face firearms."

When Sergeant Brimmer returned to squad room after parade he came straight over to Hal and Noll.

"That was a pretty good thing for you this afternoon, men," he commented pleasantly. "It isn't often that a rookie gets commended in orders."

"Does it bring any more pay?" laughed Noll.

"No; but, my man, it goes on your record, and that's worth something. The commendation that was read out in orders this afternoon goes forward to your new colonel, when you're drafted to a line regiment, and that commendation becomes a part of your permanent record in the Army. Isn't that enough?"

"It's too much," Hal declared, "for such a little thing as we did."

"You men want promotion, don't you?" asked Sergeant Brimmer.

"Surely," nodded Noll.

"When you get to your regiment, and your company commander has occasion to appoint a new corporal, he looks over the records of the men in his company. Men, I guess you've each of you got your first grip on one of the chevrons that Shrimp dropped."

For Shrimp had been tried by court-martial, three days before. The findings, verdict and sentence had been sent on through the military channels, and would not be published until approved by the department commander. But no one at the island doubted that Shrimp would lose his corporal's chevrons, would be dismissed the service and sentenced to imprisonment in addition.

"I'd rather get chevrons, if they're coming my way, by some other means than pulling them off another man's sleeves," thought Hal to himself.



CHAPTER IX

ORDERED TO THE THIRTY-FOURTH

TWELVE working days with arms, and Privates Overton and Terry were moved on into A Company.

They were now deeper than ever in the work of learning the soldier's trade.

A tremendous change had been worked in them. Though their faces were as youthful as ever, the boys seemed to have grown into the dignity of men—of trained men, at that.

They carried themselves like soldiers, thought of themselves as soldiers, and were soldiers. For they loved their work better than ever.

"We need only to get to our regiment now, to be wholly happy," Noll declared to his chum. "Oh, why can't more young fellows, droning their lives out in offices, or tending senseless machines in shops, understand the joy of this free, manly life?"

Of course, not all rookies at the post had conceived as large an idea of Army life.

Two, who had joined at about the same time as Overton and Terry, had not proved themselves wholly suited to a life of discipline. This pair had committed several breaches of the rules, and had at last been haled before courts-martial and dismissed the service.

Only the young man who has in him the makings of a man and a soldier finds the life of the Army attractive. The incompetent, the shiftless and the vicious are no better off in the Army than they would be anywhere else. In fact they are out of their element.

Shrimp, the sullen, had gone, too, at last. The order had been published that sent him to undergo a year's imprisonment for having attempted to desert.

This corporal had had in him three quarters of the makings of a good soldier. He had been promoted once, and fell short of being a soldier only as he fell short of being a man.

Ahead of any that had joined at about the same time, Hal and Noll were "warned" for guard-duty. Sergeant Brimmer gave them the order, and seemed happy in doing it.

"You men are doing your work splendidly," he added briefly. "Read up the manual of guard-duty for all you're worth before guard-mount to-morrow morning."

"I think we know it by heart, already, Sergeant," Hal answered.

"I don't doubt that in the least. But it can't do you any harm to read up some more."

"Thank you, Sergeant; we'll do it."

Guard-mounting is a ceremony of importance in the Army. It is done to music, where music is available. Every man who turns out on the new guard—which means that he is to be on duty for the next twenty-four hours—is expected to present himself with his person, uniform and equipments absolutely clean and tidy. The two men who thus make the most soldierly appearance are detailed as orderlies at headquarters. These orderlies do not have to walk post as sentries, and have in all ways a much easier time than the other members of the guard. There is always keen rivalry for the position of orderly.

On this morning, after the formation of the guard, and inspection, the post adjutant stepped forward.

"Privates Denton and Burke will fall out and report as orderlies," he commanded.

Denton and Burke obeyed, striving hard to suppress their exultation.

"Orderly detail would have fallen to Privates Overton and Terry, who present the most soldierly appearance," continued the adjutant, in his official tone. "But this is the first tour of guard duty for Privates Overton and Terry, and it is considered essential that they first of all learn to walk post and become familiar with the duties of sentries."

At that the glee in the faces of Privates Denton and Burke faded somewhat. Hal and Noll tried to keep their own faces expressionless.

Hal Overton never forgot his feelings when he shouldered his rifle, with bayonet fixed, and patrolled his first sentry post for two hours.

He felt even more the sense of responsibility when he came to his first night tour of sentry duty.

In his way the sentry is a tremendously important personage. On his post he represents the whole sovereignty of the United States of America. The youngest sentry in the Army may halt and detain any officer, no matter of how exalted rank, until he is certain that the man halted is an officer entitled to pass. Of course, with a sentry of common sense the mere appearance of the uniform is enough under ordinary circumstances. But no personage in the United States may attempt to go by a sentry without the sentry's permission.

"How'd you enjoy it, Overton?" asked Sergeant Brimmer, who was sergeant of the guard, when Hal came in from his tour of night duty.

"I hope I didn't get myself into trouble," Hal answered.

"How so, lad?"

"I halted the commanding officer of the post."

"Was he in uniform?"

"No; in civilian dress. He had been to the city, I guess, and was coming up from the shore. It was dark, and I saw only the civilian clothes. So I challenged him."

"What did the K. O. say?"

"K. O." is the Army abbreviation for "commanding officer."

"He asked me what I was trying to do?" smiled Hal. "So I repeated my question, 'who's there,' Then he answered, 'the commanding officer.' I replied: 'Advance, commanding officer, to be recognized.' He seemed uncertain about it, but I made him step right up to me. When I saw who it was I told him to proceed."

"Did you hold your gun at port all the time?" inquired Sergeant Brimmer.

"Yes; until I recognized the commanding officer. Then I came to present arms, and he returned my salute, then walked by."

"Your skirts are clear enough, then," nodded the sergeant of the guard.

"But why did he ask me, so crossly, what I was trying to do?" asked Hal.

"Why," mused the sergeant, "my own idea of it is that K. O. was trying you out on purpose. And I'll wager the K. O. was glad to find a rook sentry so thoroughly alive to his job. Though I doubt if you'll get commended in orders for just being awake. But that reminds me of something that happened to me, in the Philippines," laughed Brimmer. "I was sergeant of the guard out there, and one night the colonel of another regiment tried to go by our guard. At that time the law was that no civilian could be on the streets after half-past eight. 'Twas called the curfew law there.

"Well, Colonel Blank came up in a carriage at about ten in the evening. He wasn't in uniform, mind you, lad. Well, the sentry on number one post, who didn't know the colonel, stopped his carriage, of course.

"'I'm Colonel Blank,' says the man in the carriage. 'Corporal of the guard,' calls the sentry. 'I'm Colonel Blank,' says the man in the carriage to the corporal of the guard. Now, the corporal didn't know the colonel either. So the corporal bawls, 'Sergeant of the guard.' That was I, that night, and I didn't know the colonel, either. So I asked: 'Beg your pardon, sir, but do you know any of the officers of this command?'

"'Name the officers,' says the man in the carriage. So I named them.

"'I don't know one of your officers,' says the man in the carriage.

"'Then I'm sorry, sir,' says I, 'but I'll have to ask you, sir, to step into our guard-house until some officer of your regiment comes over in uniform and identifies you.'

"At that the man in the carriage puts on an awful scowl, draws himself up very stiff, and answers, 'I'll do nothing of the sort, Sergeant.'

"'I beg your pardon, sir,' says I, 'but if you are Colonel Blank, then you know very well, sir, that you'll have to step inside the guard-house and wait.'"

Sergeant Brimmer chuckled heartily over the recollection.

"And did Colonel Blank obey you, and go inside and wait?" asked Hal.

"Did he?" asked Brimmer, looking surprised. "Of course he did. What's a guard for in the Army, if it can't enforce its orders? And it was past midnight when we finally got an officer, by telephone, to come over and go bail for his colonel's identity. Then, of course, we turned the colonel loose."

"Did he complain against you?" queried Private Hal.

"Who? Colonel Blank? He's too good a soldier," laughed Sergeant Brimmer. "And he's General Blank, now. Before he left, the colonel complimented me on my fitness for guard duty."

"A sentry, or a corporal or sergeant of the guard is a pretty big soldier, isn't he?" smiled Hal.

"In some ways," nodded the sergeant, "he's a bigger man than the President. The President is only the head of the nation, while the sentry on post is the whole nation itself!"

Noll had the last two hours before daylight on post that night, but nothing happened to him except the arrival of the corporal with the relief just as dawn was breaking.

The days and the weeks sped by rapidly now. There were always new duties to be learned, but our young rookies had now picked up the habit of learning so easily and quickly that everything seemed a matter of course.

"How do you like Army life now, Noll?" Hal asked one day.

"I wouldn't swap this life for any other," exclaimed Private Noll Terry, his eyes shining. "Hal, have you never suspected that they're making men out of us here? We're learning to obey without asking why, and we're being trained in a way that will fit us to lead other men one of these days. And look how strong all the gymnastics with a rifle is making us. We sleep as we never slept before, and it takes a heap to make us tired."

"We're eating everything in sight, if that's a sign of good physical condition," laughed Hal.

"But I wish I could hear the orders sending us to our regiment," sighed Noll.

"Don't be downspirited," urged Hal, smiling cheerfully. "Our stay here at the rendezvous can't last much longer, anyway."

"How long have we been here, anyway?" Noll wondered.

"Why, we came here early in April and it's now past the middle of June," Hal went on. "Let me think. Why, it's just ten weeks to a day since we took the oath to serve the Flag."

"And a rook generally puts in three months here——" Noll began, when a soldier, close to the door of the squad room, called out:

"Attention!"

Instantly every man in the room rose and wheeled about, standing at the position of the soldier. An officer, followed by the first sergeant of A Company, was entering the room.

As the officer came to a halt the first sergeant called:

"Overton and Terry, step forward."

Hal and Noll approached the officer and the sergeant, then again stood at attention. The officer was the post adjutant, and now he spoke:

"Overton and Terry, your company commander is satisfied that you are now sufficiently instructed to go to your regiment. We have a draft for two men for the first battalion of the Thirty-fourth Infantry, stationed at Fort Clowdry, in the Colorado mountains. If you have any objections to that regiment, or station, I will listen to them."

"Colorado will very exactly suit me, sir, thank you," Hal replied, his pleasure showing in his face.

"And me also, sir," added Noll.

"Very good, then. You will both report to Sergeant Brimmer, on his return, that you are released from further duty here. You will report at my office at half-past two this afternoon for your instructions. That is all. Sergeant, follow me to the next squad room."

The instant that the door closed Hal and Noll began to execute a swift little dance of joy, while the other rookies looked on in grinning congratulation.

"What sort of regiment is the Thirty-fourth, Sergeant?" asked Hal, after he and Noll had reported to Sergeant Brimmer.

"Just like any other infantry regiment," replied Sergeant Brimmer. "They're all alike. The only difference is in the station, and the station of each infantry command is usually changed every two or three years. For that matter, though you join in the Rockies, your regiment, two months later, may be ordered to the Philippines."

That afternoon Hal and Noll reported at the post adjutant's office. Here they were provided with their railway tickets through to their new station, and were handed each a sum of money in place of rations. In addition they were granted four days' furlough before starting, this furlough to be spent at their homes. Then, each carrying his canvas case containing his surplus outfit, the young recruits started down to the dock to take the three-thirty boat to New York City.

What a glorious furlough it was, while it lasted! All their old schoolmates in the home town, and all the smaller youngsters, listened to the tales Hal and Noll told of the Army. Two or three dozen youngsters then and there formed their resolutions to enlist in the Army as soon as they were old enough.

Tip Branders had left town. Where Tip had gone was not known—but Uncle Sam's two young recruits were destined to find out later on.



CHAPTER X

A SWIFT CALL TO DUTY

"SEE that man in the black derby and the brown suit, coming this way, Noll? The one with the iron-gray hair?"

"Of course," replied Noll.

"Salute him, if we get close enough."

"Why?"

"He's an officer."

"Maybe," half-assented Noll, eyeing the man with iron-gray hair.

"There isn't much doubt about it," retorted Hal. "He boarded the train at Kansas City. It's summer, but he's going somewhere up in the hills, for he had an overcoat over one arm when he boarded the train, and that overcoat was an officer's coat. He's in the service, and he isn't any junior officer, either, judging by the color of his hair."

"But——"

"Sh! Be ready with your salute."

The two young recruits, their uniforms looking spick and span, despite their long journey by train, now brought their right hands smartly up to their cap visors as the man with iron-gray hair stepped close.

He gave Hal and Noll a prompt, smart acknowledgment of their salute, then suddenly paused, glanced at them, and asked:

"My men, how did you know me to be an officer?"

"I observed your overcoat, sir, when you boarded the train at Kansas City," Hal answered.

"You judged rightly, men," replied the officer, with a smile. "I am Major Davis, Seventeenth Cavalry. And you, as I see by your caps, belong to the Thirty-fourth Infantry."

"Yes, sir," Hal answered. "We are joining the first battalion at Fort Clowdry."

"Recruits?"

"Yes, sir."

"I wish you a pleasant life in the Army, men."

"Thank you, sir; we feel certain of finding it," Hal replied.

Both young soldiers saluted, again, as the major turned to resume his walk.

The train had stopped at Pueblo, Colorado, in the middle of the afternoon. It would be but half an hour's delay. Noll had been eager to step out away from the railway station and see as much of Pueblo as was possible. Hal had negatived this idea, through fear that they might be left behind.

"And we've not an hour to spare, you know, Noll. This is the last train for us to take if we're to report in season. So we'd better stay close to the conductor."

During the forenoon the train had rolled across the mesa or tableland below Pueblo. Hal and Noll, seated in one of the two day coaches of the train, had studied the mesa with longing eyes. Here they caught occasional glimpses of cowboys on ponies, for this mesa is still a favorite cattle region.

At this height of some five thousand feet above sea level even the late June day was not really hot. It was a glorious country on which the young recruits feasted their eyes.

"Where do we eat next?" asked Noll, of a trainman standing by.

"Any time and place you like, if you've got the chow with you," replied the trainman.

"What is the next eating station at which the train stops?" Noll insisted.

"Salida. We ought to stop there about nine o'clock to-night."

"Good eating place?"

"Great."

"It's a long time to wait," complained Noll, whom the mountain air was making furiously hungry. "Come along, Hal. We'll lay in a few sandwiches as a safety-valve."

"I hope they're not as bad as some we've bought along the way," Hal laughed, as they started toward the railroad restaurant. "Do you remember the sandwich we bought at Chicago that had the stamp on the under side, 'U. S. Army, 1863?'"

"No, and neither do you," grinned Noll.

"Fact," insisted Hal. "I found the stamp on the sandwich, and threw it out of the car. I'm sorry, now; I wish I had saved that sandwich for a curiosity. Father would have been proud of it."

Noll with a bag of sandwiches, Hal with a box of fruit, the two recruits turned toward the train again.

They were soon under way. After leaving Pueblo they forgot all about eating, for some time, for the train now bore them through some of the most picturesque parts of the lower Rocky Mountains. Both rookies spent their time on one of the car platforms, hanging far out at either side to get better views, as well as glimpses down steep cliffs into gullies below.

"Say, it's going to be dark, soon," remarked Noll, looking toward the western sky. "Why on earth didn't we get a train that would do the whole trip between Pueblo and Salida in daylight?"

"Because we didn't know the route well enough," sighed Hal. "However, we may think we've had plenty of Rocky Mountains before our regiment's station is changed."

Half an hour later both went back to their seat in the car. Black night had come on and shut out all further possibility of viewing the wonderful country through which the train was passing.

"We can eat, anyway," sighed Noll.

For the next fifteen minutes they regaled themselves, though they were careful not to eat enough to spoil their appetite for a good hot supper at Salida.

Then, as peering out of the window revealed nothing, Noll settled back in the seat.

"If I go to sleep, be sure to wake me at Salida," he begged. "What time is the train due at Fort Clowdry?"

"Two o'clock in the morning," Hal answered.

"That's a beastly time to have to be awake," growled Noll, and began to slumber.

Not for long, however. On a steep up-grade the train was barely crawling along.

Suddenly it stopped, and with a considerable jolt, too.

Bang, bang, bang! The whistle of bullets was heard alongside the train, wherever windows were open.

"What's that?" demanded Noll, jumping up.

But Hal was in the aisle before him. Both hastened to the rear door.

"Here, laddy-bucks," called a brakeman grimly, "stay inside! It's healthier!"

"What's up?" demanded Hal, without pausing.

"Judging by the sound, the train is held up, laddy-buck. It's a bad business going outside if that's the case."

But at this instant the door was opened before Hal's face. Major Davis bounded into the car.

"Come with me, men," he called sharply. "You're not armed, are you?"

"No, sir."

Even at that exciting moment Hal did not forget his salute.

"Then keep behind me," ordered the major, drawing his revolver. "This is a mail train, and, as a United States officer, I can't allow an attempt to rob it pass without an attempt at a protest."



CHAPTER XI

GUARDING THE MAIL TRAIN

MAJOR DAVIS backed quickly out of the car, holding his weapon behind his back as he dropped to the ground beside the car.

He did not look to see whether the rookies were behind him, but they were.

Ahead, and about them, all was black, save for the light that came through the car windows.

In a twinkling, out of the fringe of darkness, almost beside the recruits, stepped a masked man.

"Back, all three of you. Back into the car!" called the masked man sharply.

Major Davis wheeled like a flash, bringing his revolver to bear. But he could not use it. A sudden move of the recruits prevented.

"Noll!" called Hal sharply, and threw himself to the ground before the masked ruffian.

Like a flash Hal wrapped his arms around the knees of the masked robber. In almost the same instant Hal struggled to his feet, carrying the unknown's legs up with him.

Of course the ruffian toppled over backward. But Noll, who had darted to his chum's aid, hurled himself upon the fellow, striking him hard three times between the eyes.

The masked man's revolver was discharged as he toppled over backward, but the bullet sped harmlessly off into the night.

In another second Hal had the fellow's revolver.

"Fix him, Noll!" called Private Overton, darting forward to the officer's side.

"I have, already," muttered Noll. But he bent for an instant over the unconscious ruffian's body, then darted forward.

"Here's his box of cartridges, Hal," panted Noll.

All this had seemed to occupy but a few seconds.

"Splendidly done!" glowed Major Davis. "Now come forward, and support me."

At the moment of the discharge of the pistol the uncoupled engine started forward, away from the train, with a hissing of steam. This noise must have drowned out the noise of the single shot from the train robbers up forward.

Suddenly Major Davis shot out his left arm, and Hal, bumping against it, halted beside the officer.

"There are two of the men, standing by the mail car," whispered the major. "Raise your revolver. Ready! Fire!"



Both the major's revolver and Hal's spat out jets of flame. Both poured their shots in rapidly at the two men whom they could just make out in the darkness ahead.

Then Hal had a sudden, new sensation, not by any means agreeable.

The two men, neither hit so far, turned and raised their own weapons. It seemed like two bright cascades of flame just ahead, as the ruffians fired, kneeling.

Bullets whistled close to the major and the two recruits on either side.

Then, just as suddenly, one of the ruffians toppled over; it was impossible to tell whether Major Davis or Hal Overton had scored the hit.

Thereupon, the other man, lowering his weapon, leaped for the steps of the mail car and vanished.

Major Davis ran forward, followed by both recruits. Noll was intent on getting a revolver for himself.

But Davis, more accustomed to the ways of fighting men, suddenly crouched low, peering under the body of the car just behind the mail coach.

Almost immediately the major began to fire again, in answer to shots that came from underneath the car.

But Noll waited for nothing. His sole thought was to possess a weapon. He halted over the fallen one, snatched an empty revolver from his side, then saw that the man was wounded in the right breast.

"You must have some cartridges," muttered Noll, rummaging in the fellow's clothes.

He found the box just in time.

"Lie down, you two!" called Major Davis sharply to Hal and Noll. "You'll be fired on from ahead."

Hal threw himself flat, and none too soon, for now a gust of bullets swept down from the head of the train.

As coolly as he could Hal Overton reloaded. Noll, also lying flat on the ground, was similarly engaged.

Hal was ready to fire first. There was need of it, too, for he could dimly make out two men, near the extreme head of the train, who were firing rapidly and firing their weapons in a fashion that drove up spurts of dirt all about the recruits.

For a few seconds the fight seemed as serious to those engaged in it as battle on a larger scale could have been.

Major Davis now made the first direct move. He crawled swiftly under the car, putting himself on the same side with the man he was after.

There was more shooting on the other side of the train; then, suddenly it stopped.

The two ahead, who were engaging Hal and Noll, dodged off to the side of the track into the darkness. Now, all firing stopped, for all weapons were empty.

"I hope that other scoundrel didn't get the major!" throbbed Hal anxiously.

Yet he couldn't go to see. He had his own work on this side of the train.

"Where are our pair?" whispered Noll, creeping closer.

"I don't know," Hal answered, also in a whisper. "But crawl off a little way. Bunching together gives 'em a better mark to hit."

Lying flat on the ground, both recruits played the waiting game.

Had the pair ahead stolen off altogether in the darkness?

"I'll wait a few moments," Hal decided. "Then, if I don't hear from the scoundrels, I'll cross over to see what has happened to Major Davis."

Crack! crack! crack! The vanished pair of train robbers were opening fire again, from behind a boulder that sheltered them admirably. Hal and Noll had no protection other than they could get from lying close to the ground. But they answered the fire briskly.

Crack! crack! crack! As fast as revolvers were emptied the marksmen reloaded and again began firing. In daylight the execution would have been swifter, but all hits made in black darkness are made by the grace of luck.

In the first place the only target anyone in the combat had was the flash of an opponent's pistol.

The train robbers behind the ledge changed their positions after nearly every shot. And Hal and Noll, after the warm, uncomfortable experience of having bullets fan their faces persistently, found it advisable to crouch low and dart here and there, firing from new positions.

All this time the scores of people on the train were sitting in terrified silence. Passengers or train crews rarely interfere in a case of this kind.

Not even the train's lights aided either side, for the two young recruits had taken pains to close in on the ledge sufficiently to escape illumination by the train's lights.

Crack! crack! crack! This was a new note, coming from past the forward end of the ledge.

Almost in the same instant a howl sounded from behind the barrier of rock.

Then another voice was heard, shouting.

"Hold on! We surrender! Stop the shooting!"

Instantly this hail was answered by another. It sounded good to the young recruits as Major Davis roared from behind the forward end of the ledge:

"Then throw up your hands, keep them up, and walk into the train light where we can see you."

"You won't shoot?" demanded the voice of the surrendering one.

"Not unless you attempt tricks," replied the voice of Major Davis.

"All right. Here I come."

A lone figure rose over the edge of the ledge, and a tall, masked man, holding his hands very high, strode toward the train, passing between Hal and Noll, who instantly turned and covered him with their weapons.

"Where's the other man?" demanded Major Davis, still invisible in the blackness beyond.

"You'll find him behind the ledge," returned the surrendered one. "He's hurt too bad to move."

"Overton," called the major, "keep your weapon trained right on that prisoner. Terry, join me behind the ledge."

"Yes, sir," answered both recruits.

Noll was quickly with the major on the further side of the ledge. Here they speedily found a masked man, short and rather thick-set, who had the appearance of being unconscious. He was breathing with great effort, a deep crimson spot appearing on his right breast.

"May I ask, sir, about the man you went under the train to get?" queried Noll.

"He's dead, my man," replied Major Davis very quietly.

"Shall I try to lift this man, sir?"

"No; take his revolver, and search him for other weapons, as far as you can do so without disturbing the fellow and putting him in more pain. We'll let that hiding train crew move the casualties to the baggage car."

So Noll completed his search, while the conductor, baggage-master and some of the brakemen, noting that the firing had stopped, ventured forth.

"You trainmen take care of the dead and wounded," directed Major Davis crisply. "Terry, rejoin your comrade. I shall have to trouble you two men to stand guard over the prisoners in the baggage car until we reach Salida."

Both recruits saluted. Noll returned to the track in time to find that the first man whom he and Hal had bowled over was just coming back to his senses.



CHAPTER XII

THE ROOKIES REACH FORT CLOWDRY

ONCE more the train was under way. The engineer had taken his uncoupled engine some distance up the track, but had returned when sent for, and now the train, twenty additional minutes late, was crawling up the steep grade.

The wounded men lay on the floor of the car, receiving the attentions of a physician who had been found among the passengers.

The unwounded ones stood in a corner at the forward end of the car, Private Hal Overton, revolver in hand, watching the men closely.

Noll, a revolver in either hand, stood a little past the middle of the car, looking wholly businesslike.

Major Davis, having gone back to make sure that his own belongings were safe, now returned to the baggage car.

"Fellow," he asked of the tall prisoner, "what on earth made you stop this train?"

"Hard up," replied the man sullenly. "And a friend told us that the last time he held up a mail train, he and his pal found twelve thousand dollars in the registered mail pouches."

"You'll find at least twelve years in the mail pouches this trip," retorted Major Davis grimly.

Half an hour later a stop was made at a little tank station, to enable Major Davis to wire ahead to Salida for officers to be in readiness when they arrived.

Then the train crawled on again through the inky darkness. Noll relieved Hal, presently, though there seemed little need of alertness. The two prisoners capable of fighting looked pretty well cowed. Down at the rear end of the car, covered with a rubber blanket, lay the rigid remains of the man killed by the major.

Something more than an hour late the train pulled in at Salida. There was a crowd on hand, including four sheriff's officers. These latter came to the baggage car just before the train stopped.

"Will you take full responsibility for the prisoners now?" asked Major Davis of one officer who led the rest and who displayed his badge.

"Yes, sir," replied the deputy sheriff.

"Then I'll go and have something to eat," smiled the major dryly. "My men, do you eat here, too?"

"Yes, sir," Hal answered, saluting.

It was not an invitation to join their officer. Both recruits fully understood that. The gulf of discipline prevents officers and men eating together.

On the platform before the station-building Major Davis halted long enough to say:

"My men, I appreciate your help to-night. It would have been too much for me alone. You men stood by me like soldiers. As a United States Army officer I would have felt disgraced had I allowed a United States mail car to be rifled without striking a blow to stop it."

"It was a daring thing to do, sir," Hal ventured, with another salute.

"It was my plainest sort of duty, as an officer," replied Major Davis, returning the salute.

"May I ask, sir," ventured Hal, "whether it would have been our duty, had we been armed, and you not on the train!"

"Not unless led by an officer," replied the major. "But where did you young men learn to obey so promptly, and without questioning or hesitation?"

"At the recruit rendezvous, sir."

"Which one?"

"At Bedloe's Island, sir."

"Who was your instructor?"

"One of them, sir, was a namesake of yours—Corporal Davis."

"He will be glad to hear of this," nodded the major, smiling. "Corporal Davis is my son."

"Your son, sir—an enlisted man?" stammered Hal.

"Yes. My son enlisted in order to try to win a commission. Thank you, men, and good-night. I will tell the sheriff's men that you will be found at Fort Clowdry if you are wanted as witnesses."

Again acknowledging their salutes, Major Davis stepped inside.

Hal and Noll waited a moment before entering the station. When they did so, and passed on to the lunch room, they saw Major Davis at a table in one corner, so the rookies passed on to stools before the lunch counter.

"How long have we to eat!" asked Hal, of one of the trainmen.

"You've about twenty-two minutes left."

"I feel as if I could make excellent use of all the time," laughed Hal.

He and Noll plunged into hot chicken, potatoes and gravy, and plenty of side dishes. The late excitement had not destroyed the appetite of either recruit.

When they had finished Hal asked the waiter:

"How much do we owe you?"

"Nothing," replied the waiter. "I was told to say that the account is settled, with Major Davis's compliments."

Both recruits turned, saluting in the major's direction, as token of their thanks. He nodded, smiling.

Out on the platform, just before the train started, the recruits saw Major Davis again. That officer was turned halfway from them, without seeing them, so they passed along to the day coach in which they had been riding.

Now a dozen men crowded about them, eager to talk with the young heroes of the night.

"Pretty gritty work that you boys did," grinned one of the men. "Do you often have things like that to do in the Army?"

"We never did, before to-night," Hal answered quietly.

"Must take a lot of nerve."

"We didn't think of it at the time," smiled Hal. "It seemed all in the way of business."

"You ought to have seen the folks you left behind here," put in another man.

"Oh, shut up," called others.

"No, I won't," retorted the last speaker. "What do you suppose we folks that you left behind in this car were doing?"

"Nothing very noisy, was it?" queried Hal.

"Not particularly," admitted the man, with a laugh. "We were lying along the aisle, or else we crawled under seats. At one time there were altogether too many bullets hitting the side of the car, or coming through the windows. None of us in here got hit, but that was because of the good care we took of ourselves."

"Oh, we might have done something," protested another man, "only we didn't have anything to shoot with."

"These two young soldiers didn't have anything to shoot with, either, at the outset of the trouble. They hustled outside and got their guns from the enemy."

"Got any of those guns now?" asked another passenger, crowding forward. "Want to sell any of 'em?"

"We haven't even a cartridge," Hal replied.

"What did you do with them?"

"Turned them over to the sheriff's officers, of course."

It was nearly an hour before the curious passengers would consent to leave the young soldiers to themselves. Noll finally managed to convey an excellent hint by leaning back in his seat and closing his eyes as if in sleep.

Hal dozed somewhat, but by one o'clock in the morning both recruits were wide awake.

"What time are we due at Clowdry?" Hal asked the passing brakeman.

"More'n an hour late," answered the trainman.

"Whew! That means we won't get there until after three in the morning," muttered Hal.

"I wish we wouldn't get there until daylight," rejoined Noll. "Then I'd feel like dropping back for another nap."

Nearly everyone else in the car was dozing, it being after midnight.

It was half-past three o'clock in the morning when the brakeman rested his hand on Hal's shoulder.

"We ought to be at Clowdry in five minutes now," said the brakeman.

"Much obliged," Overton answered. "Thank goodness, Noll."

By the time that the train slowed up both recruits were out on the rear platform of the car, each gripping his canvas case.

"Clowdry! Clowdry!" bawled the brakeman.

Hal and Noll dropped off into the black night. The only light was in the station, past which the train slowly rolled.

There was no one in the station save the telegraph operator. On these mountain divisions, where accidents may so easily happen, a night operator is kept at every station.

Hal and Noll stood on the station platform until the train had pulled out. Then, as their eyes became more accustomed to the darkness, they made out what appeared to be a small hotel on the other side of the track. There were two or three other buildings near by that looked like dwellings.

"Clowdry is a pretty large city," observed Noll, with a grin.

The real town was nearly a mile away.

"I wonder where the fort is," returned Hal. "We'll ask the operator."

Apparently the operator was too well accustomed to seeing soldiers to take any deep interest in this new pair. But he was obliging, at any rate.

"Wait a minute," he called back, in answer to Private Overton's question, "and I'll go and show you the road."

So the two soldiers stood by their canvas cases until the operator had finished at his clicking instruments. Then the operator came out, heading for the rear door of the station.

"I'll show you from here, Jack," called the operator. "You see that road? Follow it about a half a mile; take the first turn to the left, and then keep straight on until you come to the fort."

"How far is Fort Clowdry?" Hal wanted to know.

"About three miles from here."

"Good road?" questioned Noll.

"Tenderfeet, ain't you?" asked the operator, smiling.

"Yes," admitted Hal.

"Thought you must be," nodded the operator, "else you'd know that the road between an Army post and the nearest freight station is always a good one. Them Army wagon bosses would put up a fearful holler if they had to drive the transport wagons over bad roads. Just joining?"

"Yes," assented Hal.

"Good luck to you! Well, follow the road and you can't have any trouble."

"Thank you, and good-night," came from both recruits. Then, each taking a new grip on his canvas case, which was fairly heavy, the recruits started down the road.

They came, finally, to the turn to the left.

"These equipment cases don't grow any lighter with distance, do they?" laughed Hal.

"Mine doesn't," grunted Noll.

When they had walked on a good deal farther Noll remarked:

"I wish we had that operator here!"

"What for?"

"He told us it was three miles. We could ask him what kind of miles."

"There's daylight coming," nodded Hal, pointing to the east. "That will make the distance seem shorter."

The sun up, at last, gave the recruits their first glimpse of their first station in the Army. Fort Clowdry lay before them. There were no frowning parapets, no stone battlements, no cannon in sight. Fort Clowdry, as seen at the distance, consisted of a great number of buildings, of all sizes.

Boom! went a gun suddenly.

"Great!" cried Hal, his eyes shining. "That's the essence of the soldier's life—the sunrise gun. The Flag has just been hauled up."

In the middle distance the recruits caught sight of a soldier pacing, his gun, with bayonet fixed, at shoulder arms.

"That sentry will put us on the rest of our way," predicted Noll.

It being now broad daylight the sentry did not challenge the newcomers.



CHAPTER XIII

"TWO NEW GENERALS AMONG US"

"SENTRY, we're recruit privates, joining the regiment at this station," announced Hal. "Where do we report?"

Bringing his rifle to port arms the soldier replied: "This is post number seven. You'll find post number one at that building under the fir-tree. That's the guard-house. Report, first, to the corporal of the guard."

"Thank you, Sentry."

"Welcome."

Bringing his piece to shoulder arms, the sentry resumed his pacing.

Hal and Noll now followed a well-kept road to the guard-house. Outside stood the corporal of the guard for this relief. As he gazed at the young soldiers, noting their canvas cases, he did not need to be told that they were recruits. None but recruits have cases the pattern they were carrying.

"Corporal," reported Hal, "we are Privates Overton and Terry, under orders to join the Thirty-fourth."

"Take seats inside, then," said the corporal. "Go to sleep in your chairs, if you want to."

Several other privates, belonging to the guard, were dozing in chairs. But Hal and Noll felt now too wide awake to think of dozing. They longed to step outside for a better look at this post, which was to be their future home. Yet, having been directed to remain inside, they obeyed.

It was a long while afterward before a bugler blew the first call to reveille, which is the "Army alarm clock," the signal to rise.

"Attention!" called the corporal, a few minutes afterward.

All the dozers sprang to their feet, standing at attention.

The officer of the day entered, looking over the men.

Then his glance fell upon the recruits.

"You are new men joining?" he asked.

"Yes, sir," Hal and Noll answered, presenting their orders.

"Corporal, when mess call sounds send a private of the guard with these men to put them in D Company's mess for their first meal."

"Very good, sir."

"Overton and Terry, you will report at the adjutant's office promptly at nine o'clock."

"Very good, sir."

The officer remained to glance over the guard report, then went away.

"When does that mess call sound, Corporal?" asked Hal.

"Five minutes more. Bates, you'll take the recruits to D Company's mess."

Nor did either recruit feel sorry when he was ushered into the enlisted men's mess, near barracks.

"Attention!" roared one waggish soldier.

As by instinct the men in the room stood at attention.

"Two new young generals are honoring us this morning," grinned the wag.

"Throw him out!" growled a sergeant. "It's bad enough to be a rookie without having it rubbed in."

The first sergeant now gave the seating order, and the men fell in at table. The wag sat at Noll's left.

"I find I'm mistaken," called the wag, down the table. "Our guests are only colonels."

"You'll be a general, one of these days, if you don't look out, Fowler," warned another soldier near by.

"The gypsies always told my mother I'd be a general," replied Fowler complacently.

"Yes, a general prisoner," continued the soldier who had just warned the wag.

This raised a prompt laugh, for, in the Army, a "general prisoner" is one who is serving a term of confinement after sentence by a general court-martial.

"There are generals, and generals, of course," admitted Fowler.

"There'd be a general famine, Fowler, if you ever stopped talking at mess long enough to do all the eating that your mouth calls for."

"How long have you young gentlemen been out of West Point?" asked Fowler, turning to Noll.

Noll grinned, but did not make any answer to this question.

"I hope you are West Pointers," continued the company wag. "Nearly all of the gentlemen present are West Pointers."

"Give the rooks time to eat their meal in comfort," ordered a sergeant gruffly. "Have you forgotten the day, Fowler, when you were the greenest rook that the Thirty-fourth ever had?"

"I never was a rook," retorted Fowler.

"You never got beyond being one," retorted a corporal. "Don't mind this chin-bugler, lads. He doesn't know any better."

Hal was paying attention strictly to the meal before him. A good-sized piece of steak and a dish of baked potatoes had come his way, and he enjoyed them keenly. The men of this battalion had a first class commissary officer and lived well.

"You've visiting cards with you, of course?" continued Fowler, after a few moments.

"No," Noll admitted.

"Why, rook, you'll need cards. You've got to call on the K. O. (commanding officer) after breakfast. But we'll fix you out. I'll lend you my pack. The jack of clubs is the one you want to send in to the K. O. Then he'll know 'tis a husky lad that has honored the Thirty-fourth by joining."

"You'll live most of the time at the guard-house, if you take Fowler for your authority on doughboy life," broke in a quiet soldier across the table.

"More likely the happy house would be our address," laughed Hal.

"Doughboy" is the term applied to an infantry soldier. Hal and Noll, being in an infantry regiment, had thereby become doughboys. The "happy house" is the part of a military hospital where mild cases of insanity are confined.

The meal was soon over, and the first sergeant took the trouble to go up to the boys.

"When do you report at the adjutant's office?" he asked.

"At nine o'clock, Sergeant," Hal responded.

"Then, as long as you don't bother anyone else, you can just as well stroll where you please around the post, until nine," continued the sergeant. "Of course you know that nine o'clock means nine to the very minute?"

"We were taught a lot about punctuality at the rendezvous station," Hal answered.

"Punctuality is about the greatest virtue in Army life," nodded the first sergeant of D Company, as he moved away.

In the interval of time at their disposal Hal and Noll were able to see a good deal of Fort Clowdry.

The center of the life there was the great parade ground, a level, grassy plain.

At the north end of this plain stood a row of pretty dwellings. The largest was the residence of Colonel North, commanding officer of the Thirty-fourth. Next to the colonel's residence was that of Major Silsbee, the battalion commander. Past the major's residence was a row of somewhat smaller cottages, each the home of a married officer. The name and rank of each officer was on a doorplate. At the furthest end of the row from Colonel North's dwelling was a building containing quarters for bachelor officers.

On another side of the parade ground were various buildings devoted to the life of the post. There was an Officers' Club, a library, a gymnasium, and at one corner, the post hospital.

Further away from the parade ground were the quarters of enlisted married men, and, beyond that, the barracks of the four companies of the Thirty-fourth stationed at Fort Clowdry. Chapel also faced the parade ground, and, near it, a Y. M. C. A. building.

Further away was the power house, for the buildings and roads on the post were lighted by electricity.

"Have we time to go over to the power house?" asked Noll.

"We haven't," decided Hal, after consulting his watch. "In twelve minutes we must be at the adjutant's office."

"Here comes an officer," whispered Noll.

Both young soldiers were alert as a first lieutenant came down the road toward them. At the same instant Hal and Noll raised their right hands smartly in salute, which was promptly returned by that officer.

They had already inquired where the adjutant's office was located. Having passed the officer, our young recruits now hastened over to the headquarters building.

"Adjutant's office?" inquired Hal of an orderly before a door.

"Right inside," nodded the orderly.

Noll fell in behind Hal as the latter stepped into the office. At a flat-top desk sat a battalion sergeant-major, who is the non-commissioned sergeant-major is the non-commissioned assistant of the regimental adjutant.

At a roll-top desk in another corner of the office the adjutant himself, a first lieutenant, was seated.

"We are recruits reporting, Sergeant," announced Hal, in a low tone.

"You have your orders with you?" asked the sergeant-major.

"Yes, Sergeant." Hal handed both sets of papers to his questioner.

At the same time each recruit was alert to salute the officer at the roll-top desk, in case he should look up. But he didn't until the battalion sergeant-major placed the papers on his desk.

"Come here, men," directed the officer.

Both rookies stepped over to his desk, halted and saluted.

"Recruit Privates Overton and Terry?" asked the adjutant, after a glance at the papers.

"Yes, sir."

The adjutant turned to examine a list that lay on his desk.

"Private Overton to B Company. Private Terry to C Company."

From an inner room stepped out a gray-haired officer, wearing on his shoulder-straps the silver eagles of a colonel. This must be Colonel North, the Thirty-fourth's K. O. Both recruits immediately came to the salute again.

"These are the young men I wanted to see, are they not, Wright?" asked the colonel.

"They are, sir," replied the adjutant, rising.

"Major Silsbee!" called the colonel, looking over one shoulder.

That officer entered, also from the inner room, and again the recruits saluted.

"Major," went on the colonel, "these are the young men I told you about, who are joining your battalion."

Major Silsbee looked them over keenly, even if briefly.

"They look the part, Colonel," was the major's comment.



CHAPTER XIV

THE SQUAD ROOM HAZING

"MEN, we have had word of you in advance of your coming," continued the colonel.

"Yes, sir," replied Hal.

"Very good word, indeed. It seems that you took stirring part in assisting an Army officer last night."

"We obeyed Major Davis's orders, sir, if that is what you refer to," Hal assented, once more saluting.

"And did it in a manner that distinguishes you as good soldiers, eh, major?" went on the colonel, turning to Major Silsbee.

"Yes," replied Major Silsbee. "Major Davis's commendation is not earned except by merit."

"You are surprised, I take it," resumed Colonel North, bending a shrewd yet kindly glance on the recruits, "that we should already know of your conduct last night. Major Davis wired me concerning it from Salida last night. Men, this is a very good start, or, rather, a second one, for your record, as forwarded me from the recruit rendezvous, mentions that you have already been commended in orders for aiding in preventing the escape of a prisoner. You start well, men, in the Thirty-fourth. Report to your respective first sergeants that, with the approval of your company commanders, you will not take up with duty until to-morrow. That will give you time to look about the post. If you wish, you have also permission to be off post this afternoon, for three hours beginning at two o'clock. That is all."

"Thank you, sir," acknowledged each recruit, saluting. Then they stepped forth.

"At the rate we're getting commended, we ought soon to be brigadier generals," smiled Hal.

"A second lieutenancy, even after four years, will suit me well enough," retorted Noll. "But what shall we do now?"

"Plainly enough our first duty is to report to our first sergeants, as ordered."

"Too bad we couldn't be bunkies, in the same company," murmured Noll.

"Yes; I would rather have had it that way. But I take it that one of the first lessons a fellow has to learn in the Army is that he can't have things his own way."

"At all events we can be together during a good deal of our leisure time," declared Noll.

"Nothing—not even being half the world apart—could prevent our being chums, old fellow."

Reaching barracks each recruit inquired where to find his own first sergeant. Hal was soon facing Sergeant Gray, of B Company. The first sergeant of a company is a highly important man. He is the ranking non-commissioned officer of his company, and might aptly be termed the "foreman" of the company. He lives right with his company all the time, and knows each man thoroughly. The first sergeant is responsible to the company commander for the discipline and order of the company.

"Is your name Overton?" asked Sergeant Gray, holding out his hand. "Glad to have you with us, Overton. You'll bunk in Sergeant Hupner's squad room. Remember that, when there's anything you really need to know, the non-commissioned officers of the company are paid to instruct you. Don't be afraid to ask necessary questions."

"I won't, thank you, Sergeant."

"And don't be sensitive or foolish, Overton, about any little pranks some of the men are more or less bound to play upon you at first. The easiest way to keep out of trouble is to be good-natured all the time. But that doesn't mean that you have to submit to any abuse."

"Thank you, Sergeant."

"Now, I'll take you to Sergeant Hupner."

That was more easily said than done. Sergeant Gray took Hal to the squad room in which he was to live thereafter, but Hupner was out at the time.

"Just stay here a little while, and report to Sergeant Hupner when he comes in," directed the first sergeant. "He'll assign you to a bed and make you feel at home."

Hardly had Sergeant Gray closed the door when Hal thought he had taken the measure of the eight other privates present. They looked like a clean, capable and genial lot of young fellows. He was speedily to find that they were "genial" enough.

"So you want to be a regular, do you?" quizzed one of the soldiers, halting before Hal, and looking him over.

"Why, I am one already, am I not?" asked Hal, smiling.

"No, sir, you're not," retorted the questioner. "How did you start in? Made a grand stand play on the train last night, didn't you? Helped to shoot up a lot of train robbers, didn't you?"

"That was under orders of an Army officer," Hal replied good-naturedly. The other soldiers had crowded about the pair.

"You went and played the hero, didn't you?" persisted the questioner. "Probably you didn't know that a regular is never allowed to be a hero. Heroes serve only in the volunteers."

This is a well-known joke in the Army. In war time local pride in the volunteer regiments is always strong. Local newspapers always devote most of their war space to the "heroic" doings of the local volunteer regiment. The regulars do the bulk of the fighting, and the most dangerous, but their deeds of daring are rarely chronicled in the newspapers. All the praise goes to the volunteer regiments. Hence, in war time, a stock Army question is, "Are you a hero or a regular?"

"I guess you've made a mistake," remonstrated Hal, still good-naturedly. "My friend and I didn't do anything in the heroic line. We simply fired when told to, and stopped firing, when told to. We didn't make any charges, capture any forts, or do anything in the least heroic. We simply stood by and did what the major told us."

"Good," nodded one of the other men. "The kid is bound to be a regular, all right. He doesn't brag, and I don't believe he's looking for any write-up in the newspapers."

"How did you feel under fire last night?" continued the merciless questioner. "Brave as a lion?"

"Don't you believe it," laughed Hal.

"Were you cool under fire?"

"Yes; I was!" Hal's answer leaped forth. "Cool? Why, man, I was so cold that it took me an hour, afterwards, to get warm again."

"He's got you there, Hyman," laughed another soldier. "Oh, the kid's going to be one of us, all right. He's no bouquet chaser."

"I don't know about that," replied Private Hyman gravely. "So many heroes in disguise try to sneak in among the regulars that it pays us to keep our eyes open. What sort of a medal are you going to order from Congress, kid?"

"A leather one," smiled Hal, "though I'd really prefer a tin medal."

Good-natured laughter greeted this answer.

But Private Hyman persisted:

"In war time you'd chuck us, just to get a commission in the volunteers, wouldn't you?"

"Not even for a general's commission in the volunteers," retorted Hal.

"Are you good at athletics?"

"No."

"Know anything about gymnastics?"

"Only one or two things."

"Come down to the end of the room with me," ordered Private Hyman.

Hal good-naturedly followed. So did the others.

"Now, let's see if you can do this," Hyman proposed. "Take a good start and jump over the first cot, then over the second, and right on down the line, as far as you can do."

That didn't look difficult. Hal leaped over the first cot, then, with hardly a pause, jumped over the second. So on he went, down over the line of ten cots.

"Now, go back again, over the cots on the other side," ordered Private Hyman.

Hal did so without difficulty, though he was flushed and panting by the time that he finished this brisk exercise.

"Kid, you're no good," grunted Hyman.

"I didn't try to make you believe I was any good," Hal retorted calmly.

"No, sir! Any man who jumps as easily and naturally as you do would jump the regulars any time, and go with the high-toned volunteer crowd."

"Humph! A fellow who can jump like that would jump right out of the service at the first breath of trouble," broke in another soldier.

"He'd desert," agreed a third.

"Walk on your hands?" queried Hyman.

Hal proved that he could do so by throwing his heels up into the air and taking a dozen steps on his hands before he again came to an erect attitude.

"Brains are all in your heels," remarked Private Hyman thoughtfully. "Can you pick that man up and carry him around on your back?"

The soldier indicated weighed at least a hundred and sixty pounds.

"I'll try," nodded Hal. Backing up to the soldier, he locked elbows, back to back, lifted the heavy one to his back and carried him twenty feet down the squad room.

"Any fellow with all that strength in his back would get his back up at trouble, and back out of any fight that came his way," declared Private Hyman. "But see here, can you place your head on one chair and your feet on another, stiffen your body and lie there without touching the floor in any way."

"Let's see," proposed Hal. Two chairs were quickly swung forward. Hal, who had good muscular control, took the attitude named, stiffened his body, and lay between the chairs for some moments.

"He lies well and easily," observed one of the onlookers.

"Yes," agreed Private Hyman. "He's easily the champion liar of the company."

At that Hal sprang to his feet again.

As he did so he accidentally pushed one of the chairs over backward. It was close to the door, which, at that instant, opened. The flying chair struck the incomer across his shins, bringing an angry exclamation from the man.

"Don't you know anything, rook?" demanded the man, Private Bill Hooper. Hooper stood five feet ten in his socks. He was just under thirty, a man who was not popular in the company because of his unruly temper.

"I'm sorry," apologized Hal. "I didn't know you were there."

"You'll be sorrier, now," cried Hooper fiercely. Striding up to young Overton, Hooper landed a sound box on one of the boy's ears.

Hal flushed crimson in an instant.



CHAPTER XV

PRIVATE BILL HOOPER LEARNS

"HOLD on, Hooper!"

"Don't act like a dog!"

"He's only a kid—can't you see?"

Then something happened like lightning.

Private Hal Overton had meant to take all his hazing good-humoredly. But a blow struck in anger, and without just cause, was more than he was prepared to brook.

"Sergeant Gray told me I was not expected to stand abuse," flashed through his mind.

So, instead of cringing away from a repetition of the blow, Hal took a sudden bound forward.

Whack!

"I have no use for a box on the ear," smiled Hal grimly. "So you can have it back!"

Private Bill Hooper let out a roar, then sprang for the boy, intending to pulverize the young rookie with his fists. But five or six of the men sprang between them, forming an effective human wall.

"Shame on you, Hooper!"

"That's no way for a man to act."

"Get off your blouse, kid," blustered Private Hooper, as he unfastened his own blouse and tossed it over the end of a cot. "You need a trimming, and you're going to get it right now!"

"Here, kid, button your blouse up again," ordered Private Hyman. "You ain't called upon to fight that bully. Hooper, if you're spoiling for fight I'll do my best to be kind to you."

But Hal, the flush dying from his cheeks, coolly continued unbuttoning his blouse. Then he pulled it off, handing it to a soldier near by.

"Dress yourself, kid. You don't have to fight a man twice your size."

"Let some one else have the job, kid. There's some of us here will take it."

"The kid will stand up and take his own trimming," announced Hooper, with ugly emphasis.

"No, no, no!"

"Beat it, Hooper!"

"Mates," went on Hal, as soon as he could make himself heard, "I'm willing to stand for anything that's coming to a rook. But this is a case that calls for something different. I've got to satisfy this man that I can stand up before a pair of fists, or he'll never respect me enough to let me alone."

"Why, kid, a man of Hooper's size will reduce you to powder," objected Hyman seriously. "It's all right to have sand, and I guess you've got it, but you've no call to be slaughtered."

"He'll thrash me," agreed Hal coolly, "but I'll get in enough on him to make him want to let me alone after this. I'm ready for the fellow."

Realizing that the rookie was in earnest the soldiers stepped away from between the pair.

"But you play fair, Hooper, or we'll kick you all over the squad room," warned another soldier.

Private Hooper clenched his fists, and stood flexing his arms, which, through his shirt-sleeves, appeared to be decidedly powerful.

"Step up, kid, and get your trimming," he invited, with a ferocious smile.

"I don't know much about fighting," admitted Hal, smiling pleasantly. "All I know my dancing teacher taught me."

That raised a laugh and angered Hooper. This was just what the rookie wanted to do, for he judged that Hooper could be prodded into a blind rage.

Hooper now jumped forward, aiming an ugly swing for Hal's head. But the rookie side-stepped swiftly out of the way. As he did so, one foot dragged in front of the advancing bully. Hooper tripped over that foot, and the force of his swing carried him forward so that he fell flat on his face.

"Too bad! I hope you didn't hurt yourself," teased Hal sweetly, whirling about like a flash.

Hooper was up with an oath, wind-milling his big arms.

"Take that!" he roared, aiming a heavy blow straight at Hal's chest.

"Against the rules of my dancing master!" mimicked Hal, bounding to the left. As he did so he let his right fist drop on the point of Hooper's chin.

"Ugh!" grunted the bully.

"Spit it out, if it got in your mouth," advised Hal unconcernedly, as he again faced his antagonist.

From the way he dodged the next six or eight assaults it did look as though Hal had spoken the truth when he stated that he had learned his style of fighting from a dancing master. For the nimble rookie never did seem to be just where Bill Hooper looked for him when landing blows.

"Take your partners!" mocked Hal Overton, as he darted past again. This time, however, he landed a very hot and powerful blow right against Hooper's right eye.

Now cautious cries of approval went up from the other men crowding about. All of the men were careful not to make much noise, through fear of bringing interference.

A minute later Hooper received such a stinging blow on the nose that it brought a little trickle of red.