"Woof!" panted Hal, in going by again.

"Woof!" echoed Hooper. "Wow—ow—ugh!"

Then he doubled up, winded, for Hal, after feinting for the big fellow's face had calmly but forcefully struck him just above the beltline. Hooper was out of it for the present, and he knew it.

"Now sail in and finish him, rook!" called four or five men at once.

"Not this time," replied Hal, going over to the soldier who held his blouse, taking the garment and putting it on. "I'll save the rest for the next dance whenever Hooper feels festive."

Grateful that he didn't have to stand and take punishment in his present condition, Hooper groped to a chair and sat down.

"Now, then, mates," announced Hal modestly, "when we were interrupted I was trying to show you that I don't ache to be a hero. Being a regular is good enough for me. I am ready to answer any further questions."

But just at that moment a bugle sounded the call to drill.

"You've answered enough questions for the present, rook," replied Private Hyman, patting Overton on the shoulder as he went by. Hooper struggled into his blouse, then went over to a sink and washed the red from his nose before hurrying out with the others. The big private didn't even look at Hal Overton as he went by.

Being excused from duty for the day, Hal went in search of Noll Terry. He found him waiting outside of barracks.

"Whew, but I've been through a mill," sighed Noll.

"I've been ground just a bit myself," laughed Hal.

"Did the fellows twit you about last night's work?" asked Noll curiously.

"Well, some," admitted Hal.

"If there's anything left that the fellows in the squad room can think of to do to me, I'm wondering what it is," grunted Private Terry.

"Oh, they'll think up enough things," Hal declared. "We needn't imagine that our mates will exhaust themselves in twenty minutes of fun. You didn't lose your temper, did you, Noll?"

"No; and I don't want to. But there's one fellow in our room that I am certain I'll have to fight before I get through."

"There's a fellow in our room that I don't believe I will have to fight," chuckled Private Overton.

"Have you been in a fight already?" asked Noll, flashing a swift look at his chum.

"Oh, no," Hal answered. "A dancing lesson was as far as I got this morning. But come along, Noll. I want to get where we can get a look at the great mountains yonder. My, how they seem to tower above the fort and wall us in!"

Fort Clowdry was some fifty-two hundred feet above sea level. From there, however, high mountains were visible that extended some thousands of feet higher in the air. All about was a great view of rugged mountain scenery.

Over past the buildings at the west end of the post the two rookies wandered. Now they had a noble view of the mountains.

"Are you going off post this afternoon, as the colonel said we could?" asked Noll, by and by.

"Not unless you very much want to, Noll. Can't we put in the time better learning our way around the post?"

"Perhaps we can," assented Noll.

A soldier came along, driving a pair of mules to which a quarter master's wagon was hitched. As he drew near, with a heavy load aboard, he halted to rest the mules.

"Rooks, ain't ye?" questioned the soldier.

"Yes," admitted Hal.

"Taking a survey of the post?"

"Rather. We don't have to report for duty until to-morrow."

After a few moments the soldier climbed down from the seat of the wagon. He was wholly willing to tell the boys whatever they wanted to know about Fort Clowdry and to point out the features of interest in the surrounding lines of mountains.

"Ever go hunting?" asked the soldier, at last.

"Yes; after squirrels and partridges," laughed Hal.

"No real hunting, though?"

"None."

"Then, if you can keep out of discipline troubles, ye'll have some fun around here by and by."

"Soldiers don't have much time for hunting, do they?" Hal asked.

"Those that know how to hunt do," replied the older soldier. "That's part of the life here. Didn't ye ever hear about soldier hunting parties?"

"I certainly haven't," Hal admitted.

"Why, men of good conduct are often allowed to go off on hunting parties when the game's running right. Generally there's six or eight men to a party, and all have to be fair shots, for the K. O. doesn't aim to have too much ammunition wasted," explained the old soldier. "One of the party is a non-com and he has charge of the party."

"What do the hunters get?" queried Hal.

"Well, for bigger game, bear and mountain antelope mostly. Then some parties go after birds; there's plenty of them, too, in the mountains, at the right seasons."

"Say!" exploded Noll, his eyes shining.

"Think ye'd like to go on a hunting party, do ye?" asked the soldier. "Get up yer record for marksmanship, then."

"What's done with the game?" asked Noll innocently.

"What——" the soldier started to repeat. Then he added, dryly:

"Oh, we send the game to the hospitals in Denver and Pueblo, of course!"

"Don't we get any of it to eat?" asked Noll, looking up.

"Say, don't ever go off with a party that doesn't bring back a big haul of game," advised the older soldier. "If ye do, the company cooks will lynch ye. Why, that's what we go hunting for—to vary the bill of fare here at the post. Sometimes, when we're all just aching for bear steaks, an officer and twenty or thirty men all hike off at once into the mountain trails. There are plenty of game dinners at Clowdry, at different times in the year."

Then the soldier climbed leisurely to the seat of his wagon and started on again.

"I wonder if he was fooling us about hunting parties," mused Hal.

Later on, however, the rookies discovered that the soldier had told them the truth. On some of the Western posts, hunting forms one of the diversions of the men.

Presently they met another soldier, this time afoot.

"How far can we go without getting off the reservation?" Hal inquired.

"The way you're headed now you can go another mile without getting off limits," the soldier replied.

"Reservation" is a term applied to the limits of an Army post. Wherever an Army post exists it includes land reserved by the United States from the jurisdiction of the individual state. Hence the name of reservation.

It was wilder country out here, away from the well-kept roads.

"Come on," urged Hal. "I'm going to take a good walk yet."

They had gone along, briskly, for at least another half mile when some flying missile went by Hal's head. Noll, who was just behind him, saw the missile, and watched it land on the ground beyond.

"Whoever is throwing rocks of that size—quit!" shouted Noll, wheeling to his left and glaring at an irregularly-shaped ledge some sixty yards away.

"Let's see who it is, anyway," cried Hal, darting toward the ledge.

By the time they reached the ledge they heard some lively scrambling among the rocks beyond, but neither rookie could see anyone. All was quiet for a few moments. Then a foot slipped on a stone, at a little distance. Hal raced straight in the direction of the sound. He was in time to see a crouching, running figure darting in and out among the rocks.

"Come on, Noll! We've got him!" yelled Hal.

In another minute they had overtaken the fugitive, who now stood panting at bay.

"Well, you're a nice one!" ejaculated Private Hal Overton.

"Tip Branders—out here in Colorado!" ejaculated Noll Terry.

"No; my name ain't Branders. Ye've got me mixed up with somebody else!" glowered the young man at bay.



CHAPTER XVI

THE MYSTERY OF POST THREE

"OH, no, your name isn't Tip Branders!" mocked Hal Overton.

"That's what I said," retorted the young man at bay.

"Then how do you know who we are?"

"I don't know who ye are, and what's more, I don't care," retorted the other.

"Tip, I guess you've forgotten to write home lately," broke in Noll. "What would you say if you should hear that your uncle in Australia had died and left your mother more than two million dollars?"

The young man's eyes opened very wide indeed. He gasped, and then his eyes flashed eagerly.

"Has the old lady all that money?" he demanded. "Noll Terry, what else do you know about it?"

The young man came briskly forward now, all trembling with eagerness.

"I don't know anything at all about it," retorted Noll coolly, "and I don't believe it either."

"But you said——"

"Oh, Tip, what an idiot you are to think you can deny your identity to us," jeered Noll, while Hal laughed merrily.

"Say, if you're trying to have sport with me," snarled Tip, "I'll——"

"Is it your idea of sport to shy rocks at us?" demanded Private Hal.

"I didn't shy anything at you," asserted Tip sullenly.

"Why, for that matter," Hal went on jeeringly, "I don't suppose you'll even admit that you're here, at all?"

"Don't get too festive, just because you've got the government's blue clothes on," Tip retorted sullenly. "A plain, ordinary soldier ain't such a much."

"Opinions may differ about that, of course," Hal admitted. "But being a soldier was too much of a job for you to get a chance at, wasn't it, Tip?"

"I'm just as well suited as it is," rejoined Tip, flushing a bit, none the less.

"You haven't told us what you're doing out in this country," Noll suggested.

"And I don't know that it's any of your business, either," Branders went on. "Ain't nothing to be ashamed of, though. You know I used to travel a bit with the political crowd at home."

"With the heelers of the city," Noll amended.

Tip scowled, but continued:

"Well, I got into a bit of a row, that's all. So I lit out until things could blow over a bit."

"And took some of your mother's cash before you left, I heard," nodded Private Noll Terry.

"She gave it to me," cried Tip fiercely. "Now, see here, don't you fellows say nothing about seeing me out in this part of the country. I'm out here trying to run down a good, new start in life. You just keep your tongues behind your teeth as far as my affairs are concerned."

"What kind of a new start can you make out in these hills?" queried Hal.

"That's what I'm here to find out. My cash has about run out, so I'm walking. I'm bound for a ranch about forty miles west of here, where I expect to land a job. So don't you go to talking too much about me, and trying to spoil me."

"Why did you try to knock me over with a small-sized boulder?" Hal insisted.

"Because I wanted to play a joke on you," retorted Tip, with a grin.

"That's a lie, but let it go at that," rejoined Hal Overton. "It would be too much, anyway, wouldn't it, Tip, to expect the truth from you?"

"You always were down on me," replied Branders half coaxingly. "If you'd only taken more trouble to understand me you'd have understood that I'm not a half bad fellow."

"No; only about nine-tenths bad," grimaced Noll derisively.

"Well, there's no use in my staying here to talk with you fellows," muttered Tip angrily. "You never were friends of mine. So I'll be on my way."

"Tramping it for forty miles, are you?" called Noll, as Tip turned away.

"'Bout that," Branders called back over his shoulder.

"Then, man alive, why don't you keep to the road, instead of scrambling over these rough boulders?"

Tip's only answer was a snort.

"Come back to the road," proposed Hal to his chum. So the two rookies clambered back over the ledge and down onto the excellent military road. But they caught no further glimpse of Tip Branders; plainly he preferred different paths.

"What do you make out of Tip?" asked Noll, a minute later.

"Nothing," Hal answered, "except that he was lying, as usual, of course. Tip never tells the truth; there's no sport in it."

"I'd like to know what he is doing out in this country."

"Oh, I reckon," suggested Hal, "that, as he couldn't be a soldier, he thought he'd take up cowboy life as the next best thing."

"He won't last long as a cowboy," laughed Noll. "Tip hates work, and the cowboy is about the hardest worked man in America."

"Well, we don't have to worry about Tip," muttered Hal. "We don't even have to talk about him. Noll, look at those noble old mountains!"

"Some day, when we have enough time off, we must walk to the mountains," urged Noll. "I wonder how many miles away they are—five, or six?"

"Hm!" laughed Hal. "I asked Sergeant Gray, and he said that range over there is about forty miles away."

"Forty!" Noll looked plainly unbelieving.

"You'll find out, Noll Terry, that the air in these glorious old Rocky Mountains is so mighty clear that you can't judge distances the way you did back East. I'd rather have Sergeant Gray's word than any evidence that my own eyes can supply me with."

"We won't get to that mountain range, then, until we have a week off," sighed Noll.

After wandering about for some time more the young rookies strolled back to barracks. Hal had yet to find Sergeant Hupner and get assigned to a bed and a locker.

Hupner proved to be a rather short, but keen and very pleasant fellow. He was of German origin, but had no accent in his speech, having been educated in this country.

"You'll like the regiment, the battalion and B Company, Overton, when you get used to us," Sergeant Hupner informed the young rookie.

"I'm sure of it, Sergeant," Hal replied. "But it'll be far more to the point, won't it, if I make my comrades like me?"

"Oh, you'll get along all right," replied Hupner, who had had a report on the quiet of Hal's performance with big Bill Hooper that morning. "The main thing for a recruit, Overton, is not to act as if he knew it all until he really does. And no old soldier does claim to know too much. You'll have to fall in for dinner in about ten minutes. When the company assembles report to Sergeant Gray, who'll give you your place in the ranks."

When the two recruits marched into company mess, that noon, both Hal and Noll felt odd. The chums had not been used to being separated.

After dinner the two were together again, however. Guided by Hyman they went to the recreation hall, on the second floor of barracks building. This hall was fitted up for games and sports, and at one end was a stage with scenery.

"Who gives the shows?" asked Hal.

"Once in a great while the men chip in from company funds to hire a real company, or troupe," replied Private Hyman. "The officers always add something, then. But, more often, the men supply their own talent. We've got a lot of show talent of all sorts among nearly four hundred men."

Hyman was soon called away to a drill, though not before he had pointed out other places of interest. Hal and Noll went over to the library, the gym. and the Y. M. C. A. building. They wound up their afternoon of leisure by attending parade just before retreat. Retreat is always followed, immediately, by the firing of the sunset gun and the hauling down of the post Flag for the night.

When tattoo was sounded by the bugler that night both chums were glad enough to turn down their beds and get into them. Neither Hal nor Noll remained awake more than two minutes.

The windows were open, and a cool, delicious breeze, circulated through the squad room. Hal slept the sleep of the truly tired, hearing nothing of the martial snores of some of the men on adjoining cots. It was late in the night when Private Overton was awakened by the sound of a rifle shot.

"I must have been dreaming through the scenes of last night again," Hal muttered drowsily.

None of the other men in the room appeared to have heard the sound at all.

But now it came again. A shot was followed by a second, then by a third.

"Corporal of the guard—post number three!" yelled a lusty voice, though the distance was such that Hal Overton heard the sound only faintly.

Crack—crack!

Then a bugle pealed on the air, though still Hal's comrades in the squad room slumbered on.

Too curious to turn over and go to sleep again, Hal stole softly from his cot and reached an open window on the side that looked out over the parade.

There was no moon, but in the light of the stars Hal could see several uniformed men running swiftly across the parade ground to officers' row.

"It's no dream," muttered Overton, intensely interested, "for there goes the corporal with the guard. What on earth can it mean?"

There was something up—and something exciting, at that, for experienced sentries never fire except in case of need. Moreover, several sentries—no fewer than four—had just fired almost simultaneously.

Nor did the corporal and his squad return within the next few minutes.

Whatever it was that had resulted in turning out the guard, the need for the guard plainly still continued.

"There's no more shooting, anyway," Hal reflected. "I may as well go back to bed."

It was some minutes ere he could sleep. When he did fall off it seemed as though only a minute or two had passed when the bugle again pealed.

Hal was on his feet in a second. So were most of the other soldiers in the squad room this time.

"Why, it's daylight now," uttered Hal, looking astounded.

"Of course it is, rook," laughed the soldier whose bed was next to Hal's. "That bugler sounded first call to reveille. Don't you know what that is yet?"

In other words the soldier's alarm clock had "gone off." Though all of these men had slept through the call for the corporal of the guard, simply because it did not concern them, every man had turned out at the first or second note of "first call to reveille."

Every man dressed swiftly. As soon as he got his clothing on each soldier turned up his bedding according to the regulations.

There was some "policing" of the room done. That is, everything was made shipshape and tidy. Last of all, and within a very few minutes from the start, the men made their way briskly to the sinks, where soap and water, comb and brush, put on the finishing touches. A sergeant, two corporals and nearly a score of men were now as neat and clean as soldiers must ever be.

"What was that row in the night, Corporal? Do you know?" Hal asked.

"What row in the night?" asked Corporal Cotter.

"Why, there was a lot of shooting, and a call for the corporal of the guard to post number six."

"First I've heard of it," replied Corporal Cotter. "But we'll know before long. Now, step lively, rook, for you're on duty with the rest to-day."

By the time that Sergeant Gray's squad room emptied at the call of the bugle it was instantly plain outside that something unusual was going on.

A and D Companies, as they fell in, proved each to be twenty men short.

"There are extra guards out, and a picket down the road to town," muttered Private Hyman, who stood next to Hal in the ranks.

"What does it mean?" asked Hal Overton, but instantly his thoughts went back to the shots and the excitement of the night.

"Silence in the ranks," growled Corporal Cotter.

But at breakfast tongues were unloosed. Hal quickly told what little he had seen and heard in the night. Others passed the gossip that twenty men had been silently summoned from a squad room in A Company, and twenty more from a squad room in D Company.

"There's some mischief floating in the air—that's certain," muttered Private Hyman.

"How did you happen to be up to see and hear it all, Overton?" demanded Sergeant Gray.

Hal explained, frankly and briefly, but the sergeant's eyes were keenly questioning.

Before the meal was over the company commander, Captain Cortland, entered the room.

"Keep your seats, men. Go on with your breakfast. Sergeant Gray, I will speak with you for a moment."

The first sergeant hastily rose, going over to his captain and saluting. After the company commander had gone, at the end of a brief, almost whispered conversation, Gray came back to his seat, looking wholly mysterious.

"B Company, rise," ordered the first sergeant, at the end of the meal. "Attention! The men of this company will have ten minutes for recreation, then be prepared to fall in at an extra inspection on the parade ground. After filing out of here no man will go indoors again before inspection."

"Is it to be inspection without arms, Sergeant Gray?" called Sergeant Hupner.

"Inspection just as you stand," replied Sergeant Gray, then gave the marching order.

"What on earth is up, Hal?" demanded Noll, when the two young rookies met outside of mess a few minutes later.

"I wish I knew," was Hal's puzzled reply.



CHAPTER XVII

HAL UNDER A FIRE OF QUESTIONS

IMMEDIATELY after the bugle call for assembly the four companies of the first battalion of the Thirty-fourth fell in by companies on the parade ground.

After roll-call had been read each company commander stepped before his own command.

"Was any man of B Company absent from his squad room at any time around two o'clock this morning?" called Captain Cortland, looking keenly over his command. Other company commanders were asking the same question. "If so, that man will fall out."

Not a man fell out of any of the four companies.

"Was any man in B Company up and moving about the squad room at or about two o'clock this morning?" was Captain Cortland's next question. "If so, fall out."

Private Hal Overton quickly left his place in the ranks.

"Advance, Private Overton," ordered Captain Cortland.

Hal stepped forward, halting six paces from his company commander and saluting.

"You were up and about in the squad room at that time, Private Overton?"

"Yes, sir."

"Did you leave the squad room?"

"No, sir."

"You are positive of that?"

"Positive, sir."

"You did not leave the squad room, even for a moment?"

"No, sir."

"What brought you out of your bed?"

"I heard shots, sir, and calls for the guard."

"What else did you see or hear, Private Overton?"

"I went to the window, and saw that there was some excitement up by the officers' quarters, sir."

"Then what did you do?"

"After listening and looking for some time, sir, I returned to my bed, wondering what it was all about."

Hal was the only soldier in the battalion who had fallen out of ranks.

"Follow me," ordered Captain Cortland. He led the young soldier back to where Adjutant Wright and the sergeant-major were standing by Major Silsbee.

"Lieutenant Wright," reported Captain Cortland, "Private Overton admits being up in the squad room at the time when the shots were fired in the dark hours this morning. He claims that he did not leave the squad room, and that it was the noise that woke him and made him curious."

"Go to my office, Private Overton, with Sergeant-major Beall," directed the adjutant briefly.

Hal and the sergeant-major saluted, then stepped away.

"Is it allowable, Sergeant, for a rookie to ask what this is all about?" asked Hal respectfully, as the two neared the adjutant's office at headquarters.

"You'd better not ask. I'm not going to tell you anything," replied Beall.

So Hal was silent, though he could hardly escape the feeling that he was being treated a good deal like a suspected criminal. Though he knew that he was innocent of any wrong-doing in connection with the excitement of the night before he could not help feeling undefined dread.

Lieutenant Wright speedily returned to his office, taking his seat at his desk. Hal was summoned and made to stand at attention before the adjutant.

"Now, Private Overton," began the adjutant, fixing a frigid gaze on the rookie, "you may as well tell me all you know about last night's business."

Hal quickly told the little that he knew.

"Come, come, my man," retorted Lieutenant Wright, "that much won't do. Out with the rest of it."

"There isn't any 'rest of it' that I know of, sir," Private Hal answered respectfully.

"Now, my man——"

With that preliminary Lieutenant Wright proceeded to put the young recruit through a severe, grilling cross-examination. But Hal kept his head through it all, insisting that he had told all he knew.

"Overton," rapped in the adjutant, at last, "you are very new to the Army, and you don't appear to realize all the facilities we have for compelling men to speak. If you remain obtuse any longer, it may be necessary for me to order you to the guard-house under confinement."

"I am very sorry, Lieutenant," Hal replied, flushing, "that you will not believe me. On my word of honor as a soldier I have told you all that I know of the matter."

The adjutant bent forward, looking keenly into the rookie's eyes. Hal did not flinch, returning the gaze steadily, respectfully.

Then, in a somewhat less gruff tone, Lieutenant Wright continued:

"That is all for the present, Private Overton. Report to your company commander, at once."

The adjutant and sergeant-major left headquarters a moment later, going by a different path. As Hal glanced down the parade ground he saw the men out of ranks, though every man was still close to his place.

"Major," reported the adjutant, after the exchange of salutes between the officers, "Private Overton denies having left the squad room in the early hours this morning. For that matter, sir, if he had not been honest, he need not have reported that he was out of his bed, or that he heard the sentries' shots."

"It was well he did admit that much," replied the major, "for he let it out at company mess this morning."

"I went at the young recruit, sir, so severely that I was almost ashamed of myself," continued the adjutant. "I am under the impression, sir, that Private Overton told me the truth."

"So am I," admitted Major Silsbee thoughtfully. "His record, so far, is against the idea of his being mixed up in rascally business. I think it likely that Private Overton's extreme fault, if he is guilty of any, is that he is possibly shielding some other soldiers whom he saw sneak back into barracks after the excitement was over. Probably he isn't even guilty of that much."

"Are you going to search the squad rooms, sir?" inquired the adjutant.

"Yes, Wright, though it makes me feel almost sick to put such an affront upon hundreds of innocent and decent men."

"The decent ones, sir, will welcome the search."

"That is what Colonel North told me. Summon the company commanders, and direct them to go into each squad room of their companies with the sergeant in charge of the squad room."

Hal, in the meantime, had returned to B Company. He found many of his comrades regarding him suspiciously, and flushed in consequence. But Corporal Cotter, Private Hyman and others stepped over to him.

"What's it all about, rookie? Do you know?" asked the corporal.

"Not a blessed thing, Corporal," replied the young recruit.

"Look! Here come the company commanders back," called another soldier, in a low tone.

"Sergeant Gray and the other sergeants of B Company will follow me to barracks," called Captain Cortland.

Now the curious soldiers saw each company commander, followed by his sergeants, step back to barracks.

For an hour the puzzled men of the battalion waited on the parade ground.

Then, in some mysterious manner, the news of what had really happened began to spread.

In the night unknown men had broken into Major Silsbee's house. This had not been a difficult thing to do as, on a military post, doors are rarely locked. Not one of the three entrances to Major Silsbee's quarters had been locked at the time.

Downstairs the thieves had gathered a few articles together, but had not taken them, as they had found better plunder upstairs. From a dressing-room adjoining Mrs. Silsbee's sleeping apartment the prowlers had taken a jewel case containing jewels worth some three thousand dollars. There had also been about two hundred dollars in money in the case.

As the thieves were leaving the house they were seen by a sentry some sixty yards away. The sentry had challenged, then fired. The thieves had fled, swiftly, running directly away from all light. But another sentry had also seen them, and had fired. Both sentries had agreed that there were four men, and that they wore the uniforms of soldiers.

The thieves made good their escape. Soon after the alarm was given forty men from A and D companies had been silently turned out to aid in establishing a stronger guard, and the barracks building had been watched through the rest of the night.

Yet no soldier had been caught trying to get back into barracks, nor had any man been missing at roll-call unless well accounted for.

"Somewhere in this battalion, then," murmured Noll to a man in C Company, "there are four soldiers who are thieves."

"Yes," replied the soldier bluntly, "and it looks as though your bunkie at the recruit rendezvous might know something about it."

"Hal Overton doesn't know," flared Noll promptly, "or he'd have told!"



CHAPTER XVIII

THE ANONYMOUS LETTER

IT was a four days' wonder, and then it dropped.

The search at barracks had revealed nothing. There was not a soldier on the post against whom any tangible suspicion pointed.

"There's just one way that a clue might be found," muttered Private Bill Hooper, one morning in Sergeant Hupner's squad room. "In time it may turn out that a sweetheart of some soldier gets some pretty jewelry trinkets given to her."

He glared covertly, though meaningly, at Hal Overton.

But Hal was far enough away neither to see nor to hear Hooper's fling.

"You'll never get caught on that trick, Bill," jeered Private Hyman. "No girl would look at you, even if you displayed the whole of the missing jewelry."

"I've had my share of sweethearts in my day," growled big Private Hooper.

"That was before your face changed for worse," grinned Hyman.

"Don't get gay with me," warned Hooper sulkily, "or your face may suffer some changes!"

"Go over and thump the kid," proposed Hyman.

It was Hal who was meant by the term "kid."

"I don't like that youngster," muttered Hooper. "And I don't trust him, either."

"That'll never worry Hal Overton," smiled Hyman. "Hooper, you look so untidy that it's a wonder Sergeant Hupner doesn't 'call' you oftener for it. And you clean up your rifle about once a fortnight. Look at Overton over there."

Hal was at work with his kit of cleaning tools, going over his rifle as methodically and industriously as though it were a piece of rare silver plate.

"He'll rub and polish that old piece of his until he wears it out," mumbled Hooper.

"One of the surest signs of the good soldier is when you see him putting in a lot of his spare time caring for his uniforms and equipments," broke in Sergeant Hupner, behind them. "Hooper, go and brush your uniform, and clean your boots and polish 'em. I'll report you, if I see you so slouchy in the future."

Bill Hooper moved away, scowling.

Sergeant Gray strode in at that moment.

"Do you want leave to go to town to-day, reporting back at tattoo, Hyman?" inquired the first sergeant.

"Thank you, yes, Sergeant."

"All right; I'll turn you in on the list to Captain Cortland. I'll notify you of leave within half an hour."

Then he stepped over to Hal.

"Overton, you haven't had any leave to visit town since you joined. Would you like to take leave to-day?"

"No, Sergeant, thank you."

Sergeant Gray looked his surprise.

"Why not?" he demanded.

"I have too much to learn right here, Sergeant. I'm going to stick, and work, until I'm out of the recruit class."

"Good boy!" murmured Gray, in an undertone, and passed on. But Gray stopped when he came up with Hupner.

"Hupner, you've got a valuable man in Overton."

"I know it, Sergeant."

"Give him all the little points you can that will take him out of the recruit class promptly."

"Why, Sergeant," smiled Hupner, "Overton can go out of the recruit class at about any time now. Report him for the guard detail any time that you want. He'll make good. He's keen on every bit of his work. He can go through his manual of arms like a juggler. He has studied his infantry drill regulations until he's about worn the book out; he knows his manual of guard duty by heart, and it would be mighty hard to trip him anywhere in his small arms firing manual. Have you noticed his facings and his marching at drill?"

"Yes," nodded Sergeant Gray thoughtfully. "The boy's a good one, all right."

"Take it from me, Sergeant—you needn't hesitate to detail the kid for guard or any other duty. He'll suit Captain Cortland."

"I'll detail him for guard, then, as soon as I can," returned Sergeant Gray. "That gives a young soldier confidence as soon as anything else ever does."

As often as is practicable enlisted men are given a day's leave, with permission to go off post and visit the nearest town. This leave is given to men known to be of good conduct. A "bad" soldier, when one is found, gets little in the way of leave.

Whenever a soldier or an ex-soldier is found slandering the Army service it is invariably safe to set him down as a man who, through very poor soldierly qualities, or actual viciousness, got "in the bad books" of his officers. There is every desire on the part of regimental and company officers to make it pleasant for a truly good soldier, and to keep him in the service until he has reached retiring age.

The man who gets into bad company when away on leave is the soldier who has the most difficulty in getting leave another time.

On the other hand, the soldier of good conduct can have much leave during the month. It is a practice at many posts, when a man has a trade, and can get small jobs to do near the post, to allow him as many half days for that work as may be granted him without injury to the service. In this way handy men or mechanics among the soldiers often add many dollars to their pocket money.

As Private Bill Hooper went away to clean up his uniform and shoes, Hal blithely kept at work putting his rifle in A 1 order.

Both were interrupted, half an hour later, by the bugle call for separate company drill.

Private Overton was among the first on the drill ground. His clothing looked as though it had just come from the tailor's; his rifle had the appearance of being fresh from the arsenal.

"There's a man for you, Hyman," spoke Sergeant Hupner, in an undertone. "If the kid keeps on as he has started he'll be a winner."

"I've had my eye on him," nodded Private Hyman. "He seems to be good all the way through."

"Is he ever a little bit fresh in the squad room?" continued Sergeant Hupner.

"If the kid is," replied Hyman, "I've never happened to be around at that time. But he stands up for himself when he has to. I suppose you've heard, Sergeant, how he trimmed Bill Hooper off?"

"Yes," nodded Hupner; "that sort of thing won't hurt Hooper at all, either."

"Hooper may lay for a chance to accuse Overton of something in the squad room that the kid didn't do."

"I'll have my eyes open for Hooper," replied Hupner dryly. "I haven't anything against any of the other sergeants in this battalion, but I really wish some other sergeant had Hooper in his squad room."

"B Company fall in," sounded the voice of Captain Cortland.

First Lieutenant Hampton and the sergeants hastened to their posts, while the corporals and privates went to their places in the ranks.

The command for open order was given, after which Captain Cortland commanded:

"Inspect the second platoon, Lieutenant Hampton."

With that the company commander himself passed behind the backs of the men of the first platoon, looking each man over keenly.

"Private Hooper, fall out!" ordered Captain Cortland sharply.

When the captain had finished his own work, and Lieutenant Hampton had reported all men in the second platoon to be soldierly in appearance, Captain Cortland turned to Bill Hooper with a look of disapproval.

"Private Hooper, this is the third time within a month that you've failed to report in neat and soldierly appearance. Who is in charge of your squad room?"

"Sergeant Hupner, sir."

"Sergeant Hupner," resumed the captain, "what have you to say to this man's appearance?"

"I ordered him, at least a half an hour ago, sir, to clean himself up."

"Keep right after Private Hooper, Sergeant. If he fails again to keep himself as a soldier should, report him to the first sergeant."

Hooper's face burned darkly. Even honest Sergeant Hupner flushed. A shiftless soldier is a sore trial to the sergeant responsible for him.

Now, at the brisk command, B Company moved off in column of fours. A long practice march followed. While out, the company was halted and drilled searchingly. It was a hard morning's work, B Company returning just in time for dinner. In the afternoon there was another drill. Parade wound up the day.

On his return from parade Lieutenant Wright, the adjutant, found in his office mail a letter that caused him a good deal of astonishment.

"Watch Private Overton, B. Company, if you want to find a man who knows a lot about the robbery the other night. He has been acting suspiciously, and I have it from a man in his squad room that Overton sometimes talks in his sleep in a way to show that either he was one of the robbers, or else that he knows who they are.

"A FRIEND."



CHAPTER XIX

A SECRET COWARD

IF any official notice was taken of that lying anonymous note the rascally writer thereof did not have the satisfaction of discovering it for some time to come.

Duties in the battalion went on, as usual, at Fort Clowdry, the next day.

Late in the afternoon, however, came a brief battalion drill, followed by the glorious spectacle of dress parade.

After the regimental band had played the colors down the line, and the other ceremonies had been observed, Adjutant Wright took his post to publish the orders.

These were few, and the reading did not occupy long. As the officer returned the papers to the breast of his coat the men expected to see him step back. Instead, however, the adjutant sharply called:

"Battalion, attention! I am directed by the battalion commander to make an inquiry. Each man will pay close heed, and answer if he is able. Has any non-commissioned officer or private in this battalion heard, at any time lately, any man in the same squad room with him talk in his sleep in such a way as to indicate that the man talking in his sleep had any knowledge concerning the men who recently broke into and robbed the battalion commander's quarters? Any man having such knowledge will fall out."

There was a tense silence, but the ranks of the first battalion remained intact.

"If there is any non-commissioned officer or private who did not fully understand my question, he will fall out," continued the adjutant.

Still no man fell out.

"If the man who addressed the anonymous letter to the battalion adjutant is present he will step out," continued Lieutenant Wright.

Still the ranks remained unbroken.

Being at "attention," each man in the four companies was looking fixedly ahead. But curiosity was running wild under all those blue fatigue blouses!

"An anonymous letter has been received at battalion headquarters," continued the adjutant sternly. "This letter accuses a soldier, who is named, of having guilty knowledge concerning the perpetrators of the robbery of the other night. The writer of this letter asserts that other men in the squad room have heard the anonymously accused soldier talking in his sleep in such a manner as to implicate the accused in the robbery.

"No man present has acknowledged having heard such talk. Either some soldiers now in ranks have lied in denying having heard such talk, or else the writer of the anonymous letter is a liar. I am directed by the battalion commander to state his belief that the writer of the anonymous letter is the liar.

"The writer of the letter has been ordered to fall out and reveal himself. If that writer is present, then he knows in his own mind, and one of these days his comrades will know, that he is too much of a coward to face responsibility for his sneaking action.

"The man who writes an anonymous letter is always a coward, a sneak, and usually a liar, too. I am directed by the battalion commander to state that, if the writer of this anonymous letter can be found, he will be placed on trial for his act, which is one unworthy of a soldier.

"I am further directed by the battalion commander to state that no letter anonymously accusing an enlisted man will react in any way against the accused. The battalion commander feels that he cannot state, too strongly, his intense contempt for any coward who will resort to slandering a comrade in an anonymous letter.

"The battalion commander will be glad, at any time, to receive from any man in his command any information or report that may be made honestly and for the good of the service. But the man making such report will go to headquarters and make it in person, or else will put his information in writing and sign it fully and manfully."

After an impressive pause Adjutant Wright stepped back, saluted his commanding officer, then stepped to his proper position.

At a signal from the adjutant the buglers now sounded retreat. As the last notes died out the sunset gun was fired. Rifles flew to "present arms," swords flashed to salute and male civilian onlookers uncovered their heads while the band crashed out with "The Star Spangled Banner."

As the band played, the Flag fluttered down from the peak of the post flag staff and descended into the hands of its defenders. One man stood in the ranks at that moment who was unfit to touch even the border of that national emblem.

"Order arms!" rang out, as the last note died out. "Right shoulder arms!"

Then by column of fours the battalion marched briskly off the field, to be halted and dismissed near barracks.

No sooner were the men in their quarters than the same angry inquiry rose in each squad room:

"Who has been writing lying letters about a comrade?"

No one admitted being the dastard, of course, yet over at headquarters Major Silsbee, at that very moment, was asking:

"What makes you so very sure, Wright, that some man in this command wrote the anonymous letter?"

"It is all very simple, sir," replied the adjutant. "Look at the note again, sir, and you'll see that it is typewritten——"

"Of course, Wright; I've known that from the first."

"But, sir, it's written in the style of type that is used on the Everite typewriter. This post is equipped with Everite typewriters; we have them here at headquarters, and every first sergeant has one, too, for his clerk."

"And there may be a dozen more Everite typewriters over in Clowdry," suggested Major Silsbee dubiously.

"No, Major; I've made an investigation. I have a list of every firm or person in Clowdry who owns a machine—only about a dozen in all, and not one of them is an Everite. Major, the letter was written on this post, and with an Everite machine."

"Then, by the great guns, sir, I hope you go further and catch the culprit," exploded Major Silsbee, bringing his fist down on the desk.

"Ah," sighed Lieutenant Wright. "That's just where the trouble is. It will be a hard task, sir."



CHAPTER XX

THE LUCK OF THE YOUNG RECRUIT

ON top of all this came the news that Colonel North's quarters had been entered the night following.

Worse, the scoundrels had used chloroform this time. Colonel North awoke at about three in the morning, his head feeling heavy and dull. He noted at once the strange odor in the room. Then he roused his family. Traces of thieves were found; within ten seconds after that Colonel North had summoned the guard.

Yet the two sentries on duty in officers' row both declared that they had seen no prowlers.

Almost every article of value had been found and taken. A pair of costly revolvers belonging to the regimental commander had gone with the loot. Some money, too, had been found and taken. Colonel North and his family placed their loss at nearly four thousand dollars.

"Lieutenant Ray," said Colonel North, to the officer of the day, who had followed the guard, "I think you had better summon Major Silsbee at once."

The major was there, inside of five minutes.

"So the scoundrels have blistered you, too, sir?" demanded the white-faced battalion commander wrathfully.

"They have taken almost everything in the way of valuable property that Mrs. North and I own, Major."

"We've got to put a stop to this, sir. And we've got to find and bring the rascals to boot."

"Pardon me, Colonel; shall I pass the order for a prompt search of barracks?" queried the officer of the day.

"No, Mr. Ray," replied Colonel North promptly. "Until I have real proof I'm not going to put the slight upon our enlisted men. I believe they're all fine men. If I had taken more time to think I never would have sanctioned the last search of barracks. It shan't happen again."

Captain Ruggles of A Company, having heard some excitement along the row, now came in.

"What we might, and perhaps ought to do, Major," continued the Colonel, "is to advise the married officers whose homes have not yet been robbed that they will do well to send their valuables into town for safe-keeping at the bank for the present."

"We might, sir," assented Silsbee dryly. "The bank in Clowdry is under the protection of a police force of less than a dozen men. Shall we admit, Colonel, that a dozen policemen are safer guardians of property than our four hundred men of the Regular Army?"

Colonel North looked troubled at that way of putting the matter.

"I believe Mrs. Ruggles and I have some things worth stealing," broke in Captain Ruggles quietly. "But I feel certain that neither of us would like to throw any slight over the ability of this battalion to protect its own property."

"My head isn't very clear yet," admitted Colonel North. "I realize that I have made a poor suggestion. I don't imagine, Major, that you'd be much better pleased if I directed you to double the guard."

"I shall obey, of course, Colonel, any orders on that subject that you may give me," replied Major Silsbee.

"These robberies are likely to continue, at intervals, until the quarters of all married officers have been entered and despoiled, sir," suggested Captain Ruggles, "so it seems to me, sir, that it would be wise to put each guard on its mettle."

"I am thinking only of protecting you gentlemen who have not yet sustained losses," continued Colonel North.

"And we appreciate your solicitude greatly, sir," resumed Major Silsbee.

"I leave it to you, Major."

"Then I shall make it my business, sir, to see to it that the men are instructed to be more alert than ever in guard duty," replied Silsbee.

The next morning the news, of course, traveled swiftly all through the garrison.

Hal and Noll had a chance to chat together for a few minutes before the sounding of the first assembly after breakfast.

"The thieves are around again," mused Noll aloud.

"Yes," nodded Private Hal thoughtfully.

"I wish we might catch the rascals at it."

"You've got time enough to think out your plan, then," laughed Hal, in mild derision at this suggestion.

"How so?"

"Well, the thieves are not due for a few days yet on their next raid. It seems to be their plan to leave intervals between their raids."

"If the burglars are scheming further attempts they may vary their plans by coming again to-night," hinted Noll.

"I hardly believe they will," replied Hal, shaking his head.

That day at noon Sergeant Gray warned Hal for guard the following day. Just after dinner Hal found that his chum Noll had also been warned.

"If the thieves are coming again I hope it will be to-morrow night," suggested Hal.

"No good," retorted Noll cynically.

"Why not?"

"We're only rooks."

"Well?"

"There isn't a ghost of a chance that we'd be put on post up in officers' row. The oldest and keenest soldiers will be put on that duty every night."

"Oh, I suppose so," sighed Hal. "Of course rookies are just rooks. We'll get the post down by the commissary stores, where a wagon train would be needed for stealing anything really worth money."

At guard mount the next morning both recruits turned out spick and span. Knowing that they could not expect to get any important posts for night tours both boys hoped to be selected by the officer of the day for orderly duty. But two older soldiers were chosen for that. When guard mount was over Sergeant Hupner, as commander of the guard, marched the new guard over to the guard-house, where the old guard was relieved.

This was the first time that the rookies had been detailed to guard duty since joining their regiment. No matter to what inconsequential posts they might be assigned both were full of determination to show themselves model sentries.

During the day Hal and Noll, who were assigned to the same relief, had two tours. The first was in officers' row; the second, which ended just before dark, was down at the main entrance of the post.

Then followed some hours for leisure and sleep.

"You men will go on post again at two in the morning," announced Corporal Sanders, who was in command of the relief to which the rookies belonged.

Punctually that relief was turned out, aligned, inspected and instructed.

"Post number three, Private Overton. Post number four, Private Terry," ran the corporal's orders. "Post number five——"

And so on.

Hal's heart was already beating high with hope. He had the post along officers' row, Noll the one just beyond.

"All sentries will exercise unusual vigilance," announced Sergeant Hupner, as commander of the guard. "This applies especially to the sentries on posts number three and four. But let no sentry, anywhere, allow his whole attention to wander from his duties for an instant. Corporal, march the relief."

"Attention," called Corporal Sanders on receiving this order. "Right shoulder arms! By twos, left march!"

Three minutes later the man on post three had been relieved, Hal having been dropped into his place.

It was just after two o'clock in the morning when Private Hal Overton began to pace his post, watching the relief vanish in the darkness in the direction of post number four.

Then he heard a sentry's hail:

"Halt! Who goes there?"

"The relief."

"Advance, relief."

After that, the steps of the marching party died off in the distance.

In the darkest part of the moonless night Hal walked up and down before the officers' quarters.

But he did more than walk. Making his own steps as noiseless as possible Hal felt that he was truly "all ears and eyes."

Thus some twenty minutes went by.

Then, suddenly, just as Hal had passed the north side of Captain Ruggles' quarters the young sentry halted like a flash.

Under the dim starlight he saw two shadowy forms leave by the captain's back door.

Each carried a bundle, though Hal could not make out the size or shape of either very distinctly.

"The burglars—at their tricks!" flashed Hal exultantly.

But he wasted no time thinking. In a twinkling he slipped a cartridge into his rifle, bringing the piece to his shoulder.

"Halt!" he challenged. "Who's there?"

The two figures, crouching low, made a bolt for the tall corn in a vegetable garden at the rear of the grounds.

"As fast as he could shout the words Private Hal Overton shouted:

"Halt! Who's there? Halt! Who's there?"

Having obeyed a sentry's instructions to challenge three times, and receiving no answer, Hal pressed the trigger.

A flash of flame lit the darkness around the rifle. It leaped straight from the muzzle.

Bang! The bullet sped in among the corn stalks.

Over it all sounded Hal's voice:

"Corporal of the guard, post number three!"

Hal shot back the bolt of his rifle, dropping in a cartridge with fingers as steady as at drill.

"Corporal of the guard, post number three!"

The gate was too far away. Hal took the fence at a bound, carrying his cocked piece with him.

Straight to the growing corn the young private took his speedy way.

"Come out and show yourselves, or I fire at once," Private Overton shouted.

Crack! crack! Two pistol shots rang out from the corn patch.



CHAPTER XXI

THE DUEL IN THE DARK

ALL this had occupied but a few seconds.

Private Hal Overton was on duty, and bent on business.

"I'll get one, or both of the rascals—dead or alive!" flashed through his mind.

Not even those two pistol shots brought him to a halt.

Yet one of the bullets struck the ground beside him as he raced, the other fanning his left cheek with a little breeze.

"Get back there, boy!" growled a gruff voice. "You don't want to be killed, do you?"

For answer Hal sighted swiftly and fired.

Then, for an instant, he dropped to one knee.

From out of the corn patch a curse reached his ears.

"If you'd rather be a dead soldier, all right," came the ugly response. "Give it to him good and hot!"

Hal had already slipped back the bolt of his piece. Now, as fast as he could handle the material, and while still down on one knee, he slipped five cartridges into his magazine, and a sixth he drove home in the chamber.

Bright flashes, swift reports greeted him from two points in the corn patch. These points were about twenty feet apart.

The young soldier simply couldn't cover both points of attack.

From the way the bullets whistled past his face and body the recruit knew that both his enemies were firing in deadly earnest.

And now, from a third point, another assailant joined in the firing, and Hal marveled, with each second, that he still remained alive. He felt as though he were the center of a leaden storm.

Yet, as coolly as he could, Soldier Hal chose the man at the left and drove two shots straight in the direction of the flashes.

"He's got me," yelled a cursing voice.

"I'll get you all, if you don't stop shooting and come out," warned Overton coolly.

He could hear the wounded man moving rather swiftly through the corn.

"He ought to leave a trail of blood," thought Hal, swiftly, and turned his attention to the next enemy.

But that man had stopped his firing.

Then Hal turned his rifle in the direction of the flashes from the pistol farthest away.

Bang! He sent one shot there, and the shooting of the unknown stopped.



Private Overton, however, could not know whether he had hit the fellow.

"That fellow in the middle may be left yet," breathed Hal Overton, "I'll find out."

He had three shots yet left in his magazine, and his piece was at cock.

Rising, he made swiftly for the corn, and dived in.

"Back for your life!" sounded a voice straight ahead.

Crack! crack!

Two pistols shots fanned his face.

But Hal took another running bound forward, preferring to reserve his fire until he could catch a good glimpse of the fellow's body.

"Back, you fool!" hissed the voice, followed by two more shots.

"Come out with your hands up, or I'll get you!" Hal retorted.

Instead, the unknown and unseen turned and ran some fifty feet.

Hal pursued, without shooting.

Crack! crack!

For an instant Hal felt almost dizzy with sudden dread, for those flashes seemed almost to smite him in the face.

Yes, he was afraid, for a brief space. The coward is not the man who is afraid, but the man who allows his fear to overmaster him.

"Fire again," yelled Hal, "and I'll know just where to send a bullet."

As he rushed onward he came out of the corn patch.

Fifty feet further on he saw the fugitive, just dropping to the ground at the roots of a tree.

Crack! crack! crack!

Lying on the ground, his head hardly showing beyond the roots, the fugitive was now in excellent position to stop the young sentry's rush.

Whizz—zz! whizz—zz! Click!

Two of the speeding bullets flew past Hal's head. The third struck and glanced off the rifle butt just as Hal, dropping to one knee, was raising the piece to his shoulder to sight.

Bang! That was Hal's rifle, again in action. He had aimed swiftly, but deliberately, for the base of the tree.

Against the military rifle of to-day an ordinary tree offers no protection. The American Army rifle, at short range, will send a bullet through three feet of green oak.

"Wow!" yelled the other. Though Hal did not then know it, the bullet had driven a handful of dirt into the fellow's mouth.

Hal could hear the rascal spitting, so he called:

"Come on out and surrender, and I won't fire again."

"You go to blazes!" yelled an angry voice.

Muffled as the voice was, it had a strangely familiar sound to the young soldier.

Hal seized the chance to fill his magazine as he shot the bolt back. He slipped another cartridge into the chamber.

From the sounds beyond he knew that his enemy was also reloading.

"Any time you want me to stop shooting," Hal coolly announced, "just call out that you surrender."

Then he brought his piece to his shoulder.

Bang!

He could hear the bullet strike with a thud.

Had there been light Hal could have scored a hit, but all shooting in the dark is mainly guesswork.

Crack! crack! The fugitive's pistol was also in action.

One of the bullets carried the young soldier's sombrero from his head, but he was barely aware of the fact. Yet, had that bullet been aimed two inches lower, it would have found a resting place in his brain.

Bang!

Hal fired his second shot with deliberation.

"Stop that!" wailed the other, with a new note of fear in his voice.

"Surrender!"

Crack! crack!

Two pistol shots made up the reply.

"I'm afraid I've got to kill him, if he doesn't get me first."

Bang!

"Ow—ow—ow—ow!" That yell was genuine enough to show that the young sentry's bullet had struck flesh.

"Do you surrender?"

"Not to you!"

Hal fired again. Then he crouched low, slipping two more cartridges into his rifle.

Crack! crack!

"I'll get you yet," called a furious voice.

Hal started as though he had been shot, though he was not aware of a hit.

"Tip Branders!" he called, in astonishment, and fired again.

"Yes, it's me," came the admission. "Hal Overton, are you going to kill an old friend?"



CHAPTER XXII

CAPTAIN CORTLAND HEADS THE PURSUIT

AWAY over by post number four Hal heard three rifle shots ring out. But he paid no heed. Instead he answered the now terrorized wretch in front of him:

"I'll have to kill you, unless you surrender!"

"Then I'll get you first," came the defiant answer.

From the flashes, it could now be seen that Tip Branders was firing with a revolver in each hand.

The bullets came in so swift and close that Private Hal Overton expected, every instant, to be bowled over.

But still he fired deliberately, though he now strove to make each shot effective.

In a few moments he fired next to the last cartridge in his magazine, just as the furious revolver fusillade came to an end.

"O-o-oh!"

Then the young sentry felt, rather than saw, something topple over at the base of the tree.

Hal leaped up, at the same instant hearing some one run up behind him.

That brought the young sentry about like a flash.

"I'm Captain Ruggles, Sentry!" came the prompt hail, and Private Overton recognized the voice.

Then Hal wheeled the other way, rushing toward the tree, calling back as he ran:

"I think I got the scoundrel, sir."

In another moment Hal was beside the tree, holding his rifle clubbed and ready, in case Tip Branders was playing 'possum.

But the fellow lay on the ground, curiously huddled up, not moving a hand.

"I got him with that last shot, sir," announced Private Overton, turning and carefully saluting his officer.

"You've had a brisk and brave fight, Sentry," cried Captain Ruggles warmly. "I heard your first shot, and rushed here as fast as I could come."

In reality, long as the time had seemed, hardly more than a full minute had passed. Captain Ruggles, with a pair of white-striped trousers drawn on over his pajamas, and slippers on his feet, presented a picture of speed.

Hal bent beside his old enemy of the home town to see where Tip had been hit.

Captain Ruggles, changing his revolver to his left hand, drew a match and struck it.

Tip's first apparent wound was a graze at the top of his right shoulder. A dark, red stain appeared there. Another bullet had grazed his right wrist.

The third wound apparent was at the right side of the chest.

"It'll need a rain-maker (Army surgeon) to tell whether that bullet touched the scoundrel's right lung," declared Captain Ruggles.

At that instant a woman's voice sounded from one of the windows of the house behind them:

"Corporal of the guard, you'll find Captain Ruggles and the sentry somewhere back of the garden."

Then came the sounds of running feet. Corporal Sanders was coming with the guard.

That incident showed the young soldier, more clearly than anything else could have done, how brief the duel between Tip and himself had been.

For Hal knew that, when the alarm is sounded, accompanied by the sound of a shot, the corporal and the guard come on the dead run.

"Right here, Corporal of the guard!" shouted Captain Ruggles, standing up. "Send one man back immediately for hospital men and a stretcher."

"Hospital men and a stretcher, Davidson," called the corporal, and one soldier detached himself from the running squad, wheeling and racing back.

Then the corporal of the guard dashed up at the head of his men, giving Captain Ruggles the rifle salute by bringing his left hand smartly against the barrel of his piece.

Barely behind the guard came Lieutenant Hayes, of A Company, who was officer of the day.

"The sentry has caught one of the burglars, Hayes," called Captain Ruggles, as the lieutenant came up on the run.

"Glad of it, sir. It's about time."

Then, turning to Hal, Lieutenant Hayes continued:

"You're sentry on number three, Private Overton?"

"Yes, sir."

"Make your report in as few words as you can."

This Hal did, telling about the two men whom he saw sneaking away with bundles, and also about the third man who had joined in firing at him.

"Which way did the other two retreat, Private Overton?"

"I couldn't see, sir," the young soldier answered. "I was in the corn at that moment."

The corporal of the guard, in the meantime, had sent another man to relieve Noll Terry on post number four, directing Terry to report to the officer of the day.

Still another member of the guard had been placed on post number three.

All the other commissioned officers on post, including Colonel North, now appeared, and the investigating party was adjourned to the roadway.

Noll reported that he had seen two fugitives at a distance, and had fired three times.

Under military discipline matters move rapidly. Soldiers with lanterns were now searching for the trail of those who had escaped. Keen eyes were also seeking either bundle of loot from Captain Ruggles's quarters. It was thought that the thieves, in their haste to get away, might have dropped their plunder.

Tip Branders, still unconscious, and badly hurt, according to the surgeon, was taken to the post hospital, and the civil authorities in Clowdry were notified.

"That fellow you shot called you by name, didn't he, Overton?" inquired Captain Ruggles.

"Yes, sir," Hal admitted.

"Ah, you knew the fellow, then?" inquired Colonel North. He spoke blandly, but he had an instant recollection of the anonymous note that had been received at battalion headquarters.

"Yes, sir," Hal spoke promptly. "The fellow is Tip Branders. He comes from the same home town that I do. He tried to enlist in the Army, but was rejected because he could not supply good enough references. Then he ran away from home, taking with him some money he stole from his mother, according to local accounts."

"Did you know the fellow Branders was in this part of the world?"

"Yes, sir."

"Then why, Private Overton, did you not report your information promptly to your officers?"

"Why, I did not have the least idea, sir, that Branders was still in this neighborhood, and I did not, at any time, connect him in my mind with the robberies."

"How often, and where, have you seen Branders in this part of the country?" demanded Colonel North, impressively, while the other officers looked on with keen interest.

Hal flushed, for he felt that now he was under some suspicion himself.

"I have seen Branders just once, sir," the recruit replied. "Private Terry was with me at the time."

"This man here?" inquired Colonel North, turning to glance at Noll, who stood by.

"Yes, sir."

"When did you both see Branders, then?"

"Our first day here, sir. You may recall, Colonel, that you told Terry and me that we need not go on duty that first day, but that we might have the day to ourselves, as a reward for having helped Major Davis in that mail-train affair the night before our arrival at this post."

"I remember," nodded Colonel North. "But you have not yet told me the circumstances of your meeting with Branders."

Hal hurriedly recounted the details of that meeting, among the rocks past the ledge, out on the road leading westward from the post.

"At that time, Colonel," Private Hal Overton continued, "Branders told us he was headed for a ranch to the westward, where he expected to get a job. We had no reason for disbelieving him, at the time, and so it never even occurred to us, until to-night, that he might be one of the burglars who have been looting this post. Besides, sir, though Tip had always been known as a rather worthless fellow, we had never heard of his being the associate of downright criminals."

Now the searchers came in to report that they could find neither a trail nor any sight of dropped bundles of loot.

"At daylight, Major," suggested Colonel North to Major Silsbee, "you may be able to send out scouts who, with a better light, may succeed in finding a trail."

Hal turned to Lieutenant Hayes, saluting.

"I wonder, sir, if it won't be best for me to offer a suggestion to Colonel North?"

The regimental commander turned at once.

"You may speak, Private Overton."

"I was about to inquire, sir," replied Hal, saluting, "if it isn't likely that there may be a good hiding place for thieves among the rocks back of the ledge of which I spoke some time ago."

"What makes you think the thieves may be there, Overton?"

"The thought has just struck me, sir, that Branders was probably lurking about in the vicinity of a cave or other place of concealment, on the day that he threw the stone at us. It struck me, sir, that a squad of men might search that locality with the chance of finding the rest of Branders's associates and also of recovering much of the stuff that has been stolen from quarters on this post."

"That's a bright suggestion, worth working upon. Cortland, will you take a detachment of men and hasten out to that locality? Post men all around while it is still dark, and then, with a few men, plunge right through that neighborhood. Overton and Terry will go with you as guides, so that you may strike the exact spot without loss of time."

Captain Cortland dispatched a soldier to go at once to Sergeant Hupner's squad room, with orders to turn out the men in that room at once and under arms, with fifty rounds of ammunition per man.

This done, Captain Cortland hastened to his own quarters, soon returning with his sword hanging at his belt and his revolver in its holster.

"While you are gone, Cortland," said Colonel North, "Silsbee and I will make whatever other investigations we can think of."

In an almost incredibly short space of time Sergeant Hupner's squad was ready, and turned into officers' row.

"Overton and Terry, you will walk ahead of the detachment, and I will go with you," Captain Cortland announced. "Sergeant Hupner, march your detachment in column of twos, twenty paces to the rear of the guides. Forward!"



CHAPTER XXIII

THE STIRRING GAME AT DAWN

"THERE is the ledge, sir, right in yonder," announced Hal, peering through the darkness. A wind was coming up and the stars had faded. It was in the darkest hour before dawn.

Captain Cortland stepped back, holding out one hand as a signal.

Sergeant Hupner saw, and halted his detachment, marching almost without a sound.

"Remain here, guides, with the detachment," directed the company commander, in a whisper. "Sergeant Hupner, you and I will go forward and reconnoitre."

As soon as the officer and the non-commissioned officer had departed Private Bill Hooper growled out:

"What kind of a fool chase is this you've got us into, Overton?"

"Silence in the ranks," hissed Corporal Cotter sharply. "Not a word!"

Fifteen minutes later Captain Cortland and the sergeant returned.

"Take twelve of the men, now, Sergeant. You know where to post them," directed Captain Cortland briskly. "As soon as you have done so return to me."

Hupner marched off in the darkness with his dozen men. In a few minutes he was back.

"We'll want until daylight now for the rest of our work," announced the company commander.

Slowly enough the time passed. No word was spoken. All was as still around the little military force as though they had been isolated in the center of a vast desert.

Then the first faint signs of dawn came. Some of the soldiers were seated on the ground, gaping and with difficulty refraining from going to sleep, for these men of Uncle Sam's Army had been routed from their beds in the middle of the night.

The morning light increased, though it was still dim, and the first vague shapes near the ledge began to take more definite shape.

"We won't need to wait more than five minutes more, Sergeant Hupner," declared the captain.

Cortland stood holding his watch close to his face. As soon as he could read the time he turned to whisper:

"Now, Overton, lead us up to the exact spot from which you had your interview with the fellow Branders."

"Shall the men load, sir?" whispered Sergeant Hupner.

"Yes; full magazines."

As silently as possible the men of the little searching party slipped back the bolts of their pieces and loaded.

"Go ahead, Overton," whispered Captain Cortland.

Just behind Soldier Hal stepped the company commander himself, watching every footstep in order not to step on any loose stone that might sound a premature alarm.

Yet one man among them slipped and made a noise. It was trifling, but almost instantly a whistle sounded ahead.

Without even thinking to wait for orders Hal returned the whistle.

"That you, Tip?" called the voice of an invisible man. "Good for you, lad. We thought you was a goner."

Hal did not answer further, for Captain Cortland broke in:

"Rush 'em, men! We've got 'em."

"Ho! The blazes you have!" sounded a rough voice ahead. "Come on, boys—it's the sojers! Give it to 'em!"

Almost in an instant the crevices between the rocks ahead were full of red flashes.

Bullets sped, struck rocks with spiteful thuds and flattened out before bounding into the air again.

"Lie down, men!" shouted Captain Cortland. "Give it to the rascals as long as they shoot at us."

All in a moment this rock-strewn spot had become a bedlam of discharging firearms.

Two regulars were hit before they could find cover from which to fire. These men, however, made no outcry, but, finding themselves unable to handle their rifles, lay quietly where they had fallen until the time came for them to have attention.

Though he had sharply ordered his men to lie down, Captain Cortland did nothing of the sort himself. Instead, with his revolver drawn, he stood up, peering ahead and trying to get sight of the scoundrels beyond.

Bullets flew all about the captain, many of them passing his head. But he stood there calmly until he caught just the opportunity for which he had waited.

Then his pistol spoke, and a groan beyond showed that he had been a successful marksman.

"Squad, rise!" shot out the commander's order. "Charge!"

Crouching low, the soldiers sprang suddenly forward.

"Halt! Lie down," continued Cortland. He had gained sixty feet by his rush without loss of a man. "Fire only when you see something to shoot at. Commence firing at will."

Now the firing slackened, though it was not less deadly. Even the scoundrels ahead slowed down their fire, as though they found their weapons becoming hot.

Captain Cortland was in no hurry. He meant to have the scoundrels, dead or alive, but he did not intend to risk his own men needlessly. The army officer knew it was now only a question of time. Nor did he fear running out of ammunition, for the greater part of his small command was not yet in action, but posted beyond.

The daylight grew stronger; then the upper rim of the sun peeped over the horizon, sending its rays into the sky.

"Cease firing," commanded Cortland at last. Then he called over the rocks.

"Are you fellows ready to surrender to United States forces?"

"Not until we're all dead," came the taunting reply.

"Then we'll try to accommodate you by killing you with as little delay as possible," called back the captain. Then, to his own little force he added:

"Men, advance as you see opportunity. Fire whenever you see anything to aim at."

Steadily the regulars crawled forward, a foot or a yard at a time.

As they moved they tried, Indian fashion, to find new cover behind rocks over which they could aim and fire.

Hal and Noll, not ten feet apart, occasionally glanced at each other after firing.

Both young rookies were thoroughly enjoying this actual taste of fighting life.

It was not many minutes before the advancing handful of soldiers were within seventy or eighty feet of the rocks that sheltered the rascals.

Then suddenly they saw three crouching figures begin to retreat among the rocks.

With a cheer the attacking force went forward, crouching.

But just then three rifles from out beyond spoke, and bullets whistled past the scoundrels from a new quarter.

"Great smoke, boys!" bellowed one of the fugitives hoarsely. "The sojers have us hemmed in on all sides."

"Yes, we have," shouted Captain Cortland. "Do you want to surrender?"

"Make your men stop shooting or moving, and give us two minutes to think."

"We'll keep on advancing and firing until we have your surrender," retorted Captain Cortland grimly. "Whenever you want to surrender tell me so and raise your hands high in the air."

"Wait a min——"

"Keep on firing, men," called Captain Cortland.

"Hold on! We give in, Cap."

"Cease firing, men," called the commander of B Company. "Now you fellows jump up and show yourselves with your hands reaching for the sky."

Three rough-looking figures clambered up on rocks, holding their empty hands as high as they could get them. One of them had his neck bound, and there was blood on his clothing. This was the first man whom Hal had wounded back of Captain Ruggles's quarters at the beginning of the fray.

"Stand just that way until we reach you," ordered the army officer. "Close in on them, men, and fire if you see one of them reach for a weapon."

But the trio plainly had no further intentions in the way of fighting. They waited, sullen-faced and silent, until the soldiers had reached them and had taken away their weapons.

"You have handcuffs, Sergeant?" inquired the captain.

Hupner and Corporal Cotter both produced the steel bracelets. The three rogues were swiftly handcuffed.

"You'll find our boss over yonder," nodded one of the men. "He's bad hit, too."

They found the fellow, nearly unconscious, but groaning, his right shoulder badly shattered by the bullet from Captain Cortland's revolver.

"Sergeant," directed B Company's commander, "send a messenger back to the post for hospital men and an ambulance. You can report that two of our own men have been hit."

The leader of the scoundrels was lifted and carried back where the two men of B Company lay. Captain Cortland directed such aid as could be given on the spot to all of the wounded men.

"Shall I call in the men I posted, sir?" inquired Hupner.

"Not yet, Sergeant. There may be others of this gang hidden somewhere among the rocks. But you may take three men and search for others."

Within ten minutes the search had been made thoroughly. No more of the evil band had been found.

"We'll go back just as soon as the ambulance arrives and the wounded have been taken care of," announced Captain Cortland.

Hal, at that moment, had his eye on one of the prisoners. He saw a gleam of satisfaction show in the fellow's eyes.

"May I speak, sir?" asked Private Overton, saluting Captain Cortland.

"Yes," nodded the officer.

"May some of us remain behind them, sir, to search all this ground over?"

"For what, Overton?"

"It doesn't seem likely, sir, that these scoundrels have been living in the open air. And they must have some place for concealing their booty."

"Quite right, Overton. Corporal Cotter, take Overton, Terry and two other men and make a thorough search of the rocks and ground hereabouts."

Hal turned swiftly to the man in whose eyes he had seen that gleam of satisfaction the moment before. Now the fellow was scowling.

"That was a hit," Hal murmured to himself. "The rascals have some hiding place around here."

"Now we'll divide the ground up in small squares," announced Corporal Cotter as he led his picked men away. "We'll search each square minutely, so that no little patch may be overlooked."

"Won't it be best, Corporal," hinted Hal, "to start where the thieves were when the fighting began?"

"Just the ticket, Overton," nodded the corporal.

So the search began at that point. Nor did it last long, for Hal, thrusting with the butt of his rifle, poked a large bush partly aside exclaiming:

"I guess you'd better come here, Corporal," the recruit called.

As Cotter came running to the spot Private Overton displayed a hole rising some three feet above the grounds. It had been covered by the foliage of the bush.

"Looks like the mouth of a cave, doesn't it?" Hal asked, with gleaming eyes.

"A whole lot," agreed Corporal Cotter, producing a pocket electric flashlight. "You can follow me in, Overton, if you like."

Corporal and private crawled into the hole. They did not have to go more than six feet before they stood in a stone-walled chamber of considerable size. Roughly, it appeared to be an apartment of about twenty by thirty-five feet.

"Beds, tables, chairs, lamps, grub," enumerated Corporal Cotter, looking about him gleefully. "Take the lamp, Overton. I'm going back to call the captain."

Less than two minutes later Captain Cortland stood in the rockbound chamber.

"Well, this is a place!" whistled the officer in surprise.

"This chest is locked, sir," reported Hal, who had been improving his time by looking about. "Do you think it may contain loot. Captain?"

"There's an ax," nodded Cortland, glancing around him. "Corporal, just try the ax on the chest—carefully."

With a few blows Cotter had the chest open. Captain Cortland knelt by the wooden chest to inspect.

"This is clothing on top," he announced. "But—ah, what does this look like?"

In the middle of the chest's contents he had come upon carefully wrapped packages of jewelry, watches and the like.

"We won't go any further just now," declared the captain. "But we'll take back this chest with us."

On the return to Fort Clowdry the prisoners, though captured on the military reservation, were turned over to the civil officers. Even Tip Branders and the wounded chief of the band were taken to Clowdry for care by the town authorities.

The chest was found to have contained all the stolen jewelry. The money that had been taken on the same raids, however, was not found. Plainly the thieves had used the money for the needs of the moment.

Hal and Noll, on their return, reported promptly to the commander of the guard, for they still belonged to the guard detail.

"Queer, ain't it?" asked Private Bill Hooper that morning in Hupner's squad room as the men were washing up before morning mess call.

"What is?" demanded Private Hyman.

"Why, that kid, Overton, knew one of the gang—one, at least—all the time. Yet Overton shot his old-time friend. And Overton knew all along where the bunch was hiding. And did you hear how neatly he led Corporal Cotter right to the cave of the gang? Now if that don't prove——"

Hyman promptly knocked Hooper down.

"It proves, Bill," growled Hyman, "that you're so fond of lying that you don't know the truth when you hear it."



CHAPTER XXIV

CONCLUSION

TIP BRANDERS recovered.

So did the leader of the gang with which Tip had foolishly cast his evil lot down in Pueblo, when he had first come west after robbing his mother. The man wounded in the neck had been at no time in a dangerous condition.

Not much sympathy need be wasted on Tip. He had chosen his own place in life, and had filled it.

Before Tip was out of the local hospital, and in his cell in jail, his mother, who had read of his fate in a newspaper in her home town, joined her son in the town of Clowdry.

She stood by her son to the last, until the testimony of officers and soldiers from Fort Clowdry had sent him away to prison for ten years.

At first, on his recovery, Tip Branders had been inclined to be boastful. He had shown his boldness by his thieving exploits and by daring to face the steady rifle fire of Private Hal Overton, United States Army. But when the sentence of the court came upon him Tip broke down. He wept and could hardly stand. He implored the judge to lessen his sentence. All the braggadocio in him ran out as rapidly as the sawdust from a punctured doll.

The other members of the band received equally severe sentences, for all had been engaged in battle with troops who represent law and order.

From that trial Hal and Noll journeyed to Denver. Major Davis, of the Seventeenth Cavalry, also traveled from his post, for the trial of the baffled men who had attempted to rob the United States mail was on in the United States District Court. These men, too, were sent away to the penitentiary for long terms.

The writer of the anonymous note against Hal had so far escaped detection.

"We've been getting a lot of travel lately," smiled Hal as the two chums trudged down the road from the railway station to Fort Clowdry on their return from Denver.

"All we're going to have for a while, I hope," returned Noll Terry quietly. "I'd sooner put in my time learning soldiering."

"Not tired of the army yet, Noll?"

"I never shall be, nor you either, Hal, as long as we're young enough to serve."

"What I dread," mused Hal, "is the time when if we live to that age, we shall be too old for the Army, and will have to go away and settle down in some town as retired men of the Army."

"That will be time to die, won't it?" asked Noll, so solemnly that Private Overton laughed merrily.

"That time is a long way off, Noll Terry. Let's see; we're eighteen now, and a fellow doesn't have to be retired, for age, until he's sixty-two."

"Forty-four years," figured Noll. "Oh, well, a fellow ought to be able to have a deal of fun in that number of years."

Both recruits were in merry mood as they turned in past the sentry at the main entrance to the post grounds.

They kept on, full of life and spirits until they reached the edge of the parade ground.

"Attention!" murmured Hal quietly.

Unostentatiously but with a world of reverence in their act both young soldiers lifted their uniform caps close to the shadow of the grand old Flag.

Without halting they passed on, returning their caps to their heads. Both young men of the service walked a trifle more erectly, if that were possible.

Nor had they gone much further when they espied a man coming toward them. The broad white stripes down the seam of his trousers, and the double-barred shoulder straps proclaimed the infantry officer. It was Captain Cortland, commanding officer of B Company.

Both young soldiers raised their right hands smartly in salute as they passed the officer, who returned their salute in kind. Then Cortland halted.

"Glad to see you back, Overton."

"Thank you, sir."

"And you, too, Terry."

"Thank you, sir."

"And, by the way, Terry, I have remembered your request that you be transferred to B Company, and to Sergeant Hupner's squad room. Captain Freeman said he was sorry to lose you, Terry; but since you wanted to be with your friend, he has consented to your transfer to B Company. The matter has been arranged through the adjutant, and my first sergeant will notify you of your transfer when you return to your former squad room. I'm very glad, Terry, to have so good a soldier as yourself in B Company, even if I do have to rob Captain Freeman."

"Thank you, sir," replied Noll, with another salute.

Then the two young soldiers resumed their walk. Just as soon as they were out of earshot of Captain Cortland, Noll broke forth jubilantly:

"In the same company at last, Hal, old fellow. Oh, won't it be great, now that we're truly bunkies at last!"

Great indeed—greater than either Hal Overton or Noll Terry guessed. They stood at the beginning, though neither suspected it, of some exciting and never-to-be-forgotten incidents and phases of the soldier's life.

What followed, however, will have to be reserved for the next volume in this series, which will be published under the title: "UNCLE SAM'S BOYS ON FIELD DUTY; Or, Winning Corporal's Chevrons." In this volume the two young soldiers will be found to be no longer recruits, but trained soldiers of the Regular Army, and in the midst of a series of rousing adventures incidental to the military life.

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Grammar School Boys Series

By H. IRVING HANCOCK

This series of stories, based on the actual doings of grammar school boys, comes near to the heart of the average American boy.