“SPECIAL FEATURES! Athletic Sports Page, Stamp Col- umn, Comic Illustrations, Interest- ing Departments, Vol. 1. No. 11 : August 28, 1897 : ge 2 — a |i Ae in, Miles: > ® sor eae ae Ne : Ma Headquarters of the Army, ; Washington, D. C., April 6, 1897. Howarb, AINSLEE & Co., Publishers of the Army and Navy Weekly, New York City. Gentlemen:—Such a publication as you propose would certainly be of much benefit to the youth of the country. A knowledge’. of the history of our country which is replete with glorious deeds of brave and _ patriotic men would serve to inspire them with a love of country and give them examples that they should emulate. The inculcation in the minds and hearts of our youth of love of the flag ought to be in every way encouraged. Let them become strong men physically and mentally that they may serve their country in the hour of need. To that end | wouid en- courage athletic sports carried on with a manly and magnanimous spirit. Let our boys strive to do all they can to make the name of .an American citizen a still prouder title and to be one of the best and most respected. ] am, with best wishes for your success, Major Genoral, U. S. Army. TWO DISTINGUISHED FRIENDS THE ARMY AND NAVY WEEKLY Rez : v 3 Admins i Crop c tard; aU -Sn New York City, April 20, 1897. Howarb, AINSLEE & Co., Publishers of the Army and Navy Weekly, New York City. Gentlemen:—Any publication tending to increase the patriotism of our youth is necessarily a good one. We cannot have too much love of country. Upon that foun- dation is based the very existence of the government, To-day, as in all times, the evidence of patriotism is not ‘only-4n fighting for one’s country, but in upholding the Jaw of the land. During the revolution the farmer seized his musket and went to the front; the sailor left his ship and took arms in the naval service. In these times our boys enter the government academies with the expecta- tion that some day they may be called upon to fight for the Republic. The two branches of the service—the Army and Navy—are distinct, but they have a common cause—the defence of the Union. The commissioned officers of the American Navy are taken from the graduates of the Naval Academy. They enter there as boys fresh from home, are taught rigorously and trained with unsparing discipline for six years, and are then commissioned as en- signs in active service. The Naval Academy is a great institution, and a lad gains there not only an education fit- ting him for the naval service but for practical business life, with the addition of manliness and a sense of obedience. The life is simple, and the location of the school an excel- lent one for the purpose. I wish you success in your new venture. be tnuccffp Glow ae Gy. b. IV? Army and Navy Weekly ma WEEKLY PUBLICATION POR OUR BOYS. Issued weekly. By subscription, $2.50 per year. Entered as Second-Class Matter at the New York Post Office M f _ HOWARD, AINSLEE & CO., 238 William Street, New York. Copyrighted 1897. a : Editor, - - - ARTHUR SEWALL. August 28, 1897. Volo NOs i Price, Five Cents. CONTENTS OF THIS NUMBER: PAGE. A West Point Combine (Complete story), Lieut. Frederick Garrison, SA. ; 482 Clif Faradays Expedient (Complete story), Ensign Clarke Fitch, U. S. N. : : 495 The Slater’s Hill Express (Illustrated Short Story) William Murray Graydon : 505 A Legacy of Peril (Serial), William Murray Graydon. : : ‘ Pp 509 Life in the United States Navy (Special Article) Lieut. Edward Marshall, U.S. N. . 513 \ ; Dean Hoahica (Serial) Horatio Alger, Jr. 3 ‘ : ; ; : ; : 515 , a Naval “ Wig-Wagging ” (Special Article), William L. Arnold : , ‘ i 518 L Winning With the Wheel (Serial), Victor St. Clair. 5 swe IQ ! | Items of Interest all the WorldOver . wt : : ; Department 523 _ Editorial Chat, i : fet : : ‘ j ; Department 524 Correspondence Column, : : : ; : : G ; Department 525 Stamps Column, . : 5 ; : : : : é : Department 525 Athletic Sports, : : : ; ‘ : : i ; Department 526 Our Foke Department . ae. Ce a ies io eba9 ax ¥ i AS | AT RIZE CONTEST. ‘ @S Oa ) = E DESIRE to obtain the opinion of our readers on the subject of the best ee stories, serials and departments for the Army anp Navy WEEKLY. It is P) our aim to give just what is wanted and nothing else, and for that reason we [ } now invite the readers of this publication to send us their views. To stimulate ¥ interest and invoke a friendly competition we offer ten cash prizes for the ten most sensible answers to the question: ‘‘ What are your favorite Serials, Stories . ‘ and Departments ?’’ Do you prefer, for instance, a thrilling tale of adventure, or are school stories more to your taste? Or would you rather have something his- i torical, or naval, or military? And do you, as a general rule, like present-day : scenes better than those of the past? Replies can be made either by letter or postal card, The prizes will consist of $5.00 for the best answer, $2.00 for the second best, and $1.00 each for the next eight. The contest will close Septem- ber 30th. Address ‘‘Prize Contest,’ Army AND Navy Weerx.ty, HOWARD, AINSLEE & CO., No, 238 William Street, New York City. A West Point Combine; MARK MALLORY’S NEW ALLIES: BRrederick Garrison, U.S. Ae Baw Lieut. CHAPIER 1. TWO PLEBHS IN HOSPITAL. ‘Say, tell me, did you do him ?”’ The speaker was a lad with brown curly hair and a laughing merry face, at present, however, half covered with a swathing of bandages. He was standing on the steps of the hospital building at West Point, and regarding with anxiety another lad of about the same age, but taller and more sturdily built. ‘‘I don’t know that I did him,’’ re- sponded Mark Mallory—for the one ad- dressed was he. ‘‘I don’t know that'I can say I did him, but I believe I would Have if the fight hadn/t been inter- rupted. ”’ ‘Bully, b’gee!’ cried the other, ex- citedly slapping his knee and wincing with pain afterward. ‘‘Gimme your hand! I’m proud of you, b’gee! My name’s Alan Dewey, at your service.’’ Mark took the proffered hand, smiling at the stranger’s joy. ‘‘My success seems to cause you con- siderable pleasure,’’ he said. ~ Ves, b' gee!” exclatmed Dewey. ‘‘It does! . And to every true and loyal plebe in the Academy. You’ve brought honor to the name of plebe by licking the big- gest yearling in the place, b’gee, and that means the end of hazing.”’ ‘*1’m not so sure of that,’’ said Mark. 1) ain,” teturnmed the ether (‘But say, tell me something about the fight. I wanted to come, only I was shut up in _ hospital. one?” Did Williams put up a good — ‘*Splendid,’’ said Mark. ‘*Heoughtto. They say he’s charmpicm of his class, and an all-round athlete. But you look as if you could fight some yourself,”’ ‘*He almost had me beaten once,’’ said Mark. ‘‘I thought I was a goner.’? - “Say, but you’re a spunky chap!’ re- marked Dewey, eyeing Mark with an ad-. miring expression. ‘‘I don’t think there’s ~ ever been a plebe dared to do half what you’ve done. The whole class is talking about you.”’ ‘Is that so??? inquired Mark, laughing. ‘‘T didn’t mean to do anything reckless.”’ ‘Didn't, hey? Why, they say you locked two yearlings in the icehouse one Right.” ‘tVes,”? said Mark, *¥1 did. But that was only because they tried to lock me in ‘“Humph!’’? commented the other. ‘‘If you’d-been an ordinary plebe you’d haye let them lock you. But I’ve been hearing all sorts of tales about you. They say you saved the Garrison’s ferry boat last year. Is that true?” “‘Somewhat.’? ‘*B’ge! You don’t say so. Anda fe]- low, a “stoutish kid they call Indian, big- gest baby in the place, by the way, told me that you earned the money to come here by saving an express, and that you hazed a lot of yearlings and knocked one down and locked two up in an icehouse, and did all sorts of remarkable things. Is that so, too?’ | ‘cA very little of: it,’ said Niark, laughing. ‘‘I’m afraid my friend Indian ARMY AND NAVY WEEKLY. ~ js inclined to act as my press-agent. I wish he wouldn’t, because it’s no fun be- ino a hero. I’ve gotten Every yearling in the place to hating me. “What's the difference,” laughed the other, ‘‘when you can lick ’em all, b’gee? I wish I could do it,’? he added, rather more solemnly. ‘‘Then, perhaps, maybe I wouldn’t be the physical wreck that I aid.” “Vou been fighting, Mark, laughing. ‘*Betcher life, other, emphatically. clever at it as you.’’ ‘Tell me abont it,’? said Mark, with interest. ‘It happened last Saturday afternoon, and I’ve been in hospital ever since, b’gee. Some of the cadets caught me taking a walk up somewhere near what they call ‘Crow’s Nest.’ And so they set out to have some fun. ‘Told me to climb a tree, in the first place. I looked at the tree, and b’gee, there wasn’t a limb for thirty feet, and the limbs there were rot- ten. ‘There was one of ’em, a big, burly fellow with short hair and a scar on his cheek——”’ “Bull Harris!’ shied Mark. **Ves,’* said Dewey, ‘‘that’s what they called him—‘Bull.’ Who's he???’ ‘The fellow I knocked down, and one of the-two I locked in the icehouse,’’ re- sponded Mark. ‘‘I caught-him ata very dirty trick, and he hates me worse than poison.” “Boece!” cried Dewey, joyfully. ‘That makes my sore head feel better.”’ **Did you fight with him?”’ too?’ inquired b’gee!’’ responded the ‘fOnly I wasn’t as ‘*Betcher life, b’gee! He tried to make. me climb that tree, and b’gee, says I, ‘I won’t, b’gee!’? Then I lammed him one in the eye——”’ ‘Bully!’ cried Mark, and then he added, ‘‘b’gee!’’ by way of company. "Dig ve beat you?’? ‘*Betcher life,’? cried the other. ‘‘’That is, the six of ’em did.’’ ‘‘You don’t mean to say the crowd at- tacked you?” ‘“That’s what I said.’ ‘Well, sir!?? exclaimed Mark, ‘‘the more I hear of that Bull Harris the big- ger coward I find him. It’s comforting 483 to know that all the cadets aren’t ae way.’ “Very comforting !”’ other, feeling of the bandage on his swol- len jaw. ‘‘Very comforting! Reminds me of a story 1 heard once, b’gee, of a man who got a thousand dollars’ comfort from a railroad for having his head cut off: »? Mark laughed for a moment, and ae : he fell to tapping the step thoughtfully with his heel. He wasthinking over a - plan. ‘‘T don’t suppose you’ve much love for the yearlings,’’ he remarked at last. **Bet cher life not,’’ laughed the other. ‘‘I’ve about as much as a mother- in-law for a professional joke writer, b’gee! Reminds me of astory I once heard—but go on; I want to hear what you had to say. Tell my story later.”’ ‘“‘Well, three’ friends of mine have formed a sort of an informal alliance for self-defence——”’ Buuy, -) gcel”” citedly. ‘‘And I thought maybe you’d like -to ‘Join? Bet cher.life, b’gee! Why didn’t you say so before? Whoop!”’ And thus it happened that. Member Number 5 of the West Point ‘‘alliance”’ was discovered. cried Dewey, ex- CHAPTER II. THE NEW MEMBER. ‘*T don’t think this famous alliance is going to have much to do at the_ start,’”’ said Mark, as soon as Master Dewey had recovered from his excitement. ‘‘For [7 rather fancy the yearlings will leave us alone for a time.’’ ‘‘Bet cher life, b’gee!’’ assented the other. ‘li they don’t look out fey won’t have time to be sorry.”’ ‘*B’ gee!’ added Mark, smiling. ‘‘Do I say that much??? inquired the other, with a laugh. ‘‘I suppose I must, because the fellows have nicknamed me ‘B’gee.’? I declare I’m not conscious of sayino it. Dol?” -(Betcher life, b’gee,’’ responded Mark, whereupon his new acquaintance broke into one of his merry laughs. ‘*Let’s go round to Barracks,’’ said Mark, finally (it was then just after ope tie = 484 é breakfast time). ~ ‘1 expect they’ll want me to report for drill. I thought I’d get off for the MOFnIng on the strength of my ‘contusions,’ as they call them. But the old surgeon was too sly for me. He patched me up in a jiffy.”’ | ‘*What was the matter with you? ?? in quired Dewey, dropping his smile. ‘One eye’s about half shut as you see,’’ responded Mark, ‘‘and then I had quite a little cut on the side of my head where Williams hit me once. Iam all right—only just a little rocky.?’ Asthe sea captain remarked of the harbor, b’gee,’’ added the other. ‘‘But tell me, how’s Williams.”’ ‘*Pretty well done up, as the laundry- man remarked, to borrow your style of illustration,’’ Mark responded, laughing. ‘They had to carry poor Williams down here. He’s in there now being fixed up. And say, you should have seen how ‘queerly the surgeon looked at us two. He knew tight away what was up, of course, but he never said a word—just entered us ‘sick—contusions.’ Is that what you were ?”? * Bet cher life, b’ gee !?? responded the giner “But he tried to get me ta fell ‘what was up. He rather “suspected haz- -ing, I think. I didn’t say anything, though.’ ‘‘Tt would have served some of those chaps just right if you had,’’ vowed Mark. ‘‘You know you could have every one of them expelled.” ‘The two had reached the area of Bar- racks by this time, and hurried over to reach their rooms before inspection. ‘fAnd don’t you tention what I’ve told you about this great alliance to a soul,’’? Mark enjoined. whole Academy about our ears in a day.”’ Dewey assented. ‘‘What’s the name of it ?”’ he inquired. ‘Haven't vot any name forit yet,’ said Mark, ‘‘or any leader either, in fact. ‘We're waiting to get a few more mem- ber’s, enough for a little excitement. Then we’ll organize, elect a leader, swear allegiance and you can bet here’l1l be fun _bigee | $2) “Come up tomy room, ’ he added, after amoment’s pause, ‘‘as soon as you get fixed up for inspection, and I’ll introduce you to the other fellows.’’ ARMY AND NAVY WEEKLY. Otherwise. - its varieties, had received its death blow. ‘Wed have the With which parting wen he ie bounded up the stairs to his own room Mark Mallory felt happy and content that morning. There was probably no plebe in the place had as much cause to — be. Not only had he won himself a com- mission, earned with his own hands the — much coveted chance he had; but also, and what seemed more important at the - moment, he had that morning vindicated himself and his honor before the whole 1 Academy, having practically defeated a /@t cadet delegated by his enemies, the yearl- | ings; to meet him. ~ Billy~ Williams, the cadet was the best fighter in his class, § and the champion all-round athlete of fF the place; and Mark Mallory by hissuc- |p cess had become the cynosure of all eyes, @ the dread of all yearlings and the hero of a all plebes. on There was a corresponding amour of ee joy among those last named downtrodden ‘beasts’? tn consequence. For the first time in many a day—even year—a plebe had dared to raise his head ‘‘from beneath 4 the tyrant’s heel.’?’ And not only had he # raised it, but kept it raised, and =9 “chucked’’ the tyrant into the diteh be- = 4. sides. It was plebe day, that Monday motuing, beyond a doubt; all West —{ - Point’s traditions seemed about to be overthrown. af A The yearlings, the ex-plebes ae the } plebe hazers, were on the other sideof 4g the balance. As the plebes went up the yearlings went down; and there was grumbling and fault finding in propor- — tion... Hor ip did seem As if hazing and ‘‘deviling”’ and ‘‘plebe-jumping’’ in all | Ree With such a champion as Mark Mallory any plebe would dare to be =*B. f.7-— which is West Point for ‘‘before June’— {¢ that is fresh. Evidently things were ata ™ pretty pass indeed. a) The state of mind of our friend, **Bull”? ~ Harris, may be imagined. Bull Hatris was the sworn enemy of Mark; he had vowed to haze him out of the Academy ina week. Hehad tried, and had fhe © tables neatly turned on him every time. — And now here was this same ‘Mark—it — made Bull ‘Harris os to think of all he 7 had done. . But more of that young gentleman and his thoughts later on. Se ee tf S i of the morning, >t took. CHAPTER. Il ‘THE PARSON’S INDIGNATION. Mark Mallory found his roommate and faithful second, ‘Texas, busily occupied in cleaning up for the morning inspection. Texas wasn’t looking for Mark; it had been Texas’ private opinion that Mark had earned a week’s holiday by the battle and that the surgeon would surely grant it. When Mark did - turn up, however, Texas wasted no time in complaining of the injustice, but got his friend by the hand in a hurry. ‘‘Ole man,’’ he cried, ‘‘I’m proud of you! J ain’t had achanceto say how dur- nation proud I am!”? ‘“’"Thanks,’’ said Mark, laughing, ‘‘but look out for that sore thumb—and for mercy’s sakes don’t slap me on that shoulder again. I’m more delicate than And say, Texas, ve gota new meinber for our secret society—b’gee!’’ Texas looked interested. ‘‘He’s a pretty game youngster,’’ Mark continued, ‘‘for when Bull Harris and that gang of his tried to haze him, he sailed in and tried to do the crowd.”’ ‘“Durnation!’’ cried Texas, excitedly. “Durnation! I wish I’d’a’’been there. Say, Mark, d’ye know I’ve been a missin’ no end o? fun that a’way. Parson hada hont, au’ 1 didn’t see it; you had one daown to Cranstons, an’ I missed that; an’ yere’s another! Durnation!’’ ‘Texas looked disgusted and Mark burst out laughing. ‘¢”Tain’t any fun,’’ growled the former. ‘But eo on, tell me “bout this chap. What does he look like ?”’ “‘He’s not as tall as we,’’ replied Mark, ‘‘but he’s very good looking and jolly. And when he says ‘‘B’gee’’ and laughs, you can’t help laughing with him. Hello, there’s inspection !”’ This last remark was prompted by a sharp rap upon the door. ‘The two sprang up and stood at attention. ‘‘Heels to gether, eyes to the front, chest out’’— they knew the whole formula by this time. And Cadet Corporai Jasper (Billy Williams’ second, by the way), strode in, found fault with a few things and then went on to carry death and devastation into the next place. A few minutes later ‘‘the Parson,”’ Member Number 3, strolled in. The Par- ARMY AND NAVY WEEKLY. ‘son was a long-legged, skinny individual from Boston, Peter Stanard by name. The Parson’s coat-tails were flying ex- citedly and his lean scholarly face ex- hibited more emotion than the Parson’s friends could remember ever to have seen. “Vea, by Zeus,’ began he, without waiting for the formality of a salutation. ‘‘Vea, by Apollo, the far-darting, this is indeed an outrage worthy of the great Chilles to avenge. And I do swear by | the bones of my ancestors, by the hounds of Diana, forsooth even by Jupiter lapis and the Gemini, that never while I in- spire the atmosphere of existence will I submit myself to so outrageous an impo- sition——”’ “What's ‘‘Durnation!’’ cried Texas. pe, ‘‘Sit down and tell us about it,’’ added Mark. “It is written in the most immortal document,’’ continued the Parson, with- out noticing the interruption, ‘‘that ever emanated from the mind of man, the dec- laration of Independence (signed, by the way, by an ancestor of my stepmother), that‘tamong the inalienable privileges of man, co-ordinate with life and liberty it- self, is the pursuit of happiness. And in the name of the Seven Gates of Thebes and the Seven Hills of the Eternal City I demand to know what happiness a man can have if all his happiness is taken from him!?’ ‘*B’ gee! Reminds me of astory I heard about a boy who wanted to see the cow jump over the moon on a night when ~ there wasn’t any moon, b’gee.”’ Mark and ‘Texas looked up in surprise and the Parson faced about in obvious dis- pleasure at the interruption. “In the name of all the Olympian di- vinities and the inhabitants of Charon and the Styx,’’ he cried, angrily, ‘‘I demand to know——”’ ‘“‘Come in,’’ said Mark, laughing. ‘*Hxcuse me for interrupting, Parson, but this is Mr. Alan Dewey, b’gee, member Number 5 of our band of desperate bucca- neers, if you please. Mr. Dewey, allow me tointroduce you to the gentleman who ‘reminded’ you of that last story, Mr. Peter Stanard, of Boston, Massachu- setts, the cradle of liberty, the nurse of 486 freedom, and the centre and metropolis of the geological universe. ’’ The Parson bowed gravely. ‘‘While lam, together with all true Bostonians, proud of the reputation which my city has merited, yet I am——’’ ‘‘Also to Mr: Jeremiah Powers,’’ con- tinued Mark, cutting the Parson off in his peroration. “*Son o’ the Honorable Scrap Powers, ~ o Hurricane County, Texas, himself. Young Dewey shook hands all around, and then sat down on the bed, looking at Mark with a puzzled expression on his face, as much as to say, ‘‘what on earth have I struck—b’gee?’’?’ Mark saw his expression and undertook to inform him, making haste to start before the Parson could begin again on the relative merits of Boston and the rest of the civilized universe. ‘‘Powers and Stanard,’’ said he, ‘‘are the members of our organization, together with Indian, the fat boy.’’ | ‘*‘T see,’’? said Dewey, at the same time thinking what a novel organization it must be. ‘‘There’s Indian now.’’ Indian’s round, scared face peered in through the open doorway just then. He was introduced to Number 5, whereupon Number 5 remarked ‘Very pleased to meet you, b’gee.’ And Indian echoed ‘Bless my soul!’ and crept into the room and sat down in an inconspicuous cor- net. There was a moment’s pause and then the Parson commenced: ‘If I remember correctly, we were oc- cupied when last interrupted, by—ahem! a rather facetious observation upon the subject of our solitary lunar satellite and quatuped of the genus Bos—occupied I say in considering the position which the metropolis of Boston has obtained——’’ ‘‘Drop Boston!’? laughed Mark. ‘‘We weren’t on Boston anyhow. Boston came in afterwards—as Boston always does, in tant “Which reminds me, b’sce,'' put in the newcomer, ‘‘of a story I once heard Texas,’’? added or “Drop the story, too!’ exclaimed Mark. ‘‘I want to know what the Parson was so indignant about.”’ “‘“Durnation, yes!’ put m ‘Texas. ARMY AND NAVY WEEKLY. | Sapout 16 ‘“That’s what I say, too. And be quick drill, an’ if there’s anybody got to be licked why, durnation, we hustle. ”’ i ‘Well,’ said Stanard, drawing a long breath. ‘‘Well! Since it is the obvious “and, in fact, natural desire of the com- pany assembled, so expressed by them, that I should immediately proceed toa summary and concise statement of the ~ matter in hand, pausing for no extensive | introductions or formal perorations, but endeavoring assiduously to impart to my promulgations a certain clarified con- ciseness which in matters of this peculiar nature is so eminently advantage- ous oe The Parson was interrupted at this place by a subdued “‘B’eee! = imag Dewey, followed by a more emphatic ‘‘Durnation!’? and a scarcely audible ‘‘Bless my soul!?’ “‘What’s the matter?’ he inqitixed, _ stopping short and looking puzzled. ‘t Nothing,’ replied Mark: “1 didn t say anything.”’ ‘‘OhP? said the Parson. ‘‘Hxeuse me. Where was 1? Oh, yes, I was just saying _ I would be brief. Gentlemen—ahem !— when I entered this room I was in a con- dition of violent anger. As I stated, an outrage had been offered me such as neither Parmenides, nor Socrates, nor even Zeno, stoic of stoics, could have botne. . And I have resolved to seek once more as a prodigal son, the land of my birth where science is fostered instead of being repressed asin this hotbed of pre- judice and ignorance. I——’? ‘“What’s up?’? cried the four. ‘*T am coming to that,’’ said the Parson, gravely, stretching out his long shanks, drawing up his trousers, and displaying his sea-green socks. ‘‘This same morning —and my friend Indian will substantiate , my statement, for he was there—a low, ignorant cadet corporal did enter into my ° room, for inspection, by Zeus, and after generally displaying his ill-manners he turned to me and conveyed the extraordi- nary information that, according to rules, forsooth, I must be deprived of the dear- est object of my affections, solace of my weary hours, my friend in time of need, my companion in sickness, which through bio! We've only ten minutes fore — got. to 3 all the trials of adversity has stuck to me closer than a brother, my only joy, ny———”’ ‘“What?’’ cried the four, by this time wrought up to the highest pitch of indig- nation and excitement. ‘“My one refuge from the cares of life,’’ continued the solemn Parson, ‘‘the _ one mitigating circumstance in this life of tribulation, the only——’’ “Whatre What? What?’ ‘*What? Of all things what, but this? What but iny life, my pride, my hope— my beloved volume of Dana’s Geology, friend of my——’’ And the roar of laughter which came then made the sentry out on the street jump in alarm. The laughing lasted un- til the cry came: “*New cadets turn out!’’ which meant drill; and it lasted after that, too, so that Cadet Spencer, drill-master, ‘‘on duty over plebes,’’ spent the next hour or two - in wondering what on earth his charges kept snickering at. Poor Texas was the subject of aten minute discourse upon ‘Gmpertience and presumption,’’ because he was guilty of the heinous offence of bursting out laughing in the midst of one of the irate little drill master’s tir- ades. ee el CHAPTER CV. INDIAN IN TROUBLE. What manner of torture is squad drill has already been shown; and so the reader should have some idea of what our five friends were going through. Squad drill lasts for the first two weeks or so of plebe life, that is before the move into camp. ‘The luckless victims begin after breakfast, and at regular (and frequent) periods until night are turned out under the charge of some irascible, yearling to be taught all manner of military maneouv- ers—setting up drill, how to stand, to face, and in fact, how to walk. Most people, those who have not been to West Point, are under the delusion that, they know how to walk already. It usually takes the luckless plebe a week to get that idea hammered out of his head and another week besides to learn, the cotrect method. The young instructor, presenting, by the way, a ludicrous con- trast in his shining uniform of grey and ARMY AND NAVY WEEKLY. 487 white and gold, with his three or four nervous and variously costumed pupils, takes the bayonet of his gun for a drill stick and marches “‘his’’ squad over into a secluded corner of the area and thus begins the above-mentioned instructions: ‘At the word forward throw the weight of the body upon the right leg, the left knee straight. At the word — march, move the left leg smartly with- out jerk, carry the left foot forward thirty inches from the right, the sole near the ground, the toe a little depressed, knee straight and slightly turned out. At the same time throw the weight of the body forward (eyes to the front) and plant the foot without shock, weight of the body resting upon it; nextin like manner ad- vance the right foot and plant it as above. Continue to advance without crossing the legsor striking one against the other, keeping the face direct to the front. Now forward, confmon time, march. Depress the toe so that it strikes the ground at the same time as the heel (Palms of the lands squarely to the front. Head up)’’ —and so on. That is the way the marching exercise goes, exclusive of course of all interrup- tions, comments and witticisms on the instructor’s part. The plebe begins to get used to it after the first week or so, when the stiffness rubs off, and then a certain amount of rivalry begins to spring up among various squads, and everybody settles down to the business of learning. The squads are consolidated later on and gradually the class is merged into one company. Such as they are, these drills, together with inspections, meals and ‘Crests’? (with hazing) occupy -almost the entire time of the two weeks in barracks. And now for our five ‘‘rebels.”’ That particular Monday morning the plebes had an hour’s rest before dinner, in which to do as they pleased (or as the yearlings pleased). And during this hour it was that one of ‘“‘the five,’’ the al- ways luckless and unhappy one, got into trouble. The one was Joe Smith of In- dianapolis, known as Indian, or the Mor- mon. Indian, it seemed, was always thought of whenever there was any deviling to be done. The other plebes did as they were told and furnished amuse- ment on demand, but they always realized =. was an _ 488 Ahat it was allin fun. Indian, however, innocent, gullable youth who took everything solemnly and was in ter- ror of his unhappy life every moment of the day. And he was especially unfortu- nate this time because he fell into the hands of ‘‘Bull’? Harris and his gang. It is not the intention of the writer to give the impression that all cadets at West Point were or are like Bull Harris, or that hazing of his peculiar variety is an every day affair. But it would be hard to find one hundred men without a cow- atdly, cruel nature among them. Bull Harris and his crowd represented the lower element of the yearling class, and made hazing their business and diversion. They were the especial dread of the _plebes in consequence. Bull had tried his tricks upon Mark to his discomfort, and ever since that had left Mark strictly alone and confined his efforts to less vig- orous victims, among which were Dewey and now Indian. “ Indian had selected a rather gruesome occupation anyhow, at the particular moment when he was caught. It was just in keeping with the peculiarly dejected frame of mind he was in (after squad drill). He was wandering through the graveyard, which is situated in a lonely portion of the post, way off in the north- western corner. Some _ heroes, West Point’s bravest, lie buried here, and In- dian was dejectedly wondering if those same heroes would ever have stuck through plebe days in Barracks if they had hada drill master like that ‘‘red- headed coyote,’’ Chick Spencer. He had about concluded they would not have, when he heard some muffled laughter and the sound of running feet. A moment later the terrified plebe found himself completely surrounded by a dozen merry yearlings, out for a lark. Prominent among them were Bull and his toadying little friend Baby Edwards. It is correct West Point etiquette fora plebe, when ‘‘captured’’ to go meekly wherever is desired. Indian went, and the party disappeared quickly in the woods on one side, the captive being hid- den completely in the circle of cadets. There was one person who had seen him, however, and that one person was the Parson, who had been about to enter. ARMY AND NAVY WEEKLY. son, when he saw it turned quickly on him without loss of scholarly dignity. ‘Yea, by Zeus,’’ be muttered to him- self, ‘‘Yea by Zeus, the enemy is fierce upon our trail. And swiftly forsooth will I hie me to my companions and inform them of this insufferable indignity.” - All unconscious of the learned gentle- man’s discovery the yearlings meanwhile were hurrying away into a secluded _por- tion of the woods; for they knew that their time was short and that they would | have to make haste. ‘The terrified victim was pushed over logs and_ through brambles until he was almost exhausted, the captors meanwhile dropping dire hints as to his fate. ‘*An Indian he is!’’ muttered Bull Har- ire, as one then). death !?? ‘“That’s what he shall!’? echoed the crowd. ‘‘An Indian! An Indian! We’ll burn him at the stake!’ ‘‘He, he! the only good Indian’s a dead Indian, he, he!’? chimed in Baby, chuckling at his own witticism. ‘‘He, he!” He shall die an Indian’s ‘‘An Indian! (the plebe was as red — g All this poor Joseph did not fail to no- tice, and as was his habit he believed every word of it. gain any of its composure as the proces- sion continued its solemn march through the lonely woods, to the tune of the yearl- ings’ cheerful remarks. The latter were chuckling merrily to themselves, but when they were in héaring of their victim their tone was deep and awful and their looks dark and savage. Poor Indian’s fat, round eyes stared wader and rounder every minute; his equally round, red face grew redder; and his gasping exclama- tions more frequent and violent. | ‘Bless my soul!’? he cried, ‘‘what ex- traordinary proceedings!”’ ; ‘‘Ha! ha!’? muttered the yearlings. ““See, he trembles ! tim pales!’ A short distance further in the woods the party came upon a small clearing. ‘Just the spot!’ cried Bull. ‘‘See the Nor did his mind re- , Behold how the vic- the gate to join his friend. And the Par- 2 his heel and strode away back to Bar- — : = tacks as fast as his long legs could carry — tree in the centre. That is the stake and _ Se Sra et — _ tree and held him fast against it. to that we will tie him, while the smoke ascends to the clouds of heaven.’’ “Just the spot!’ echoed Baby, chuck- ling gleefully. | “It is quiet,’? continued Bull, in a low, sepulchral tone. ‘‘Yes, and his ertes of agony will be heard by none. Ad- vance, wretched victim, and prepare to die the death which your savage ancestors ~ did inflict upon our fathers. Advance!”’ -“*Advance!’’ growled the crowd. ‘¢Bless my soul!’ cried the Indian. | He was no more capable of advancing than he was of flying. His knees were shaking in violent terror. Great beads ‘of perspiration rolled from the dimples in his fat little cheeks. Limp and helpless, he would have sunk to the ground but for the support of his captors. “(Advance!’’ cried Bull again, stamp- ing on the ground in mock impatience and rage. ‘‘Bodyguard, bring forth the wretch !”’ In response to this order several of the cadets dragged the unhappy plebe to the Bull Harris produced from under his coat a coil of rope and Indian felt it being wrapped about his body. Up to this point he had been silent from sheer terror; but the feeling of the rough rope served to bring before him with startling reality the awfulness of the ei that owas in-store. for him. He opened his mouth and forthwith gave vent to a cry so weird and unearthly that the yearlings burst out into a shout of Jaughter. It was no articulate cry, simply a wild howl. It rang and echoed through the woods, like the hoot of an owl at night or the strange, half-human. cry of a frightened dog. And it died into a gasp that Bull Harris described as ‘‘the sigh of a homesick bull frog.’’ Indian’s musical efforts continued as the horrible rope was wound about his body. Each wail was louder and more unearthly, more mirth-provoking to the unpitying cadets, until at last when Bull Harris finished and stepped back to survey his work the frightened plebe could be likened to nothing less than a steam ~ ealliope. The yearlings were somuch amused by his powers that they resolved forthwith that the show must not stop. And so, ARMY AND NAVY WEEKLY. 489 without giving the performer chance to breathe even, they set to work diligently collecting sticks and leaves. = ‘Heap ’em up! Heap ’em up!” cried Bull. ‘‘Heap’em up! And soon shall the fire blaze merrily.’ : Naturally, since Indian’s shrieks and howls continued unabated in quantity or variety through all this, the yearlings were in no hurry to finish, but took care to prolong tiie agony, sport as they called it, as long as possible. So while the red- faced, perspiring victim panted, grunted, howled, and wriggled, they piled the wood about him with exasperating slow- ness, rearranging, inspecting, and discuss- ing the probable effect of each and every stick of wood they laid on. It was done at last, however; and the result was a great pile of fagots surround- ing and half covering the unfortunate lad. They were fagots selected as being the driest that could be found in the dry and sun-parched clearing. ‘There was a mo- ‘ment or two later on when Bull wished they had not been quité so dry, after all. The crowd stood and admired their work fora few moments longer, while Indian’s weird wails rose higher than ever. ‘Then Bull stepped forward. ‘“‘Art thou prepared to die?’ he in- quired in his most sepulchral tone. Indian responded with a crescendo in C minor. ‘“‘He answereth not!’? muttered the other. ‘‘Let him scorn our questions who dares. What ho! Bring forth the torch! We shall roast hm brown.”’ ‘And wken he is brown,’’ roared an- other, ‘‘then he will cease to be Smith!” Ves’? cried: Bull, “for he wilt be dead. His bones shall bleach on the plains. On his flesh we will make a meal!’’ ‘An Indian meal!’’ added Baby, chuckling merrily over his own joke. ‘“‘Several meals,’? continued Bull, — solemnly. ‘‘There is enough of him for a whole table d’hote. How about that? Aren’t you??? ‘Wow! Wo-00-00-00000!’ wailed In- dian. ‘(He mocks us!’? cried the spokesman. ‘(He scorns to answer. Very well! We shall see. Is the torch lit?’ 3 The torch, an ordinary sulphur match, 490 was not lit. But Bull produced one from the same place as the rope and held it poised. He waited a moment while the yearlings discussed the next action. ‘‘Tsay we let him loose,’’ said one. ‘“He’s scared enough.’? - Nensense!” laughed Bull, ‘‘I’m not going to stop yet. I’m going to set’ him Mire. © ‘‘Set him afire!’’ echoed the crowd, in a whisper. ; | ‘“°sh! Yes,’’? responded the other. ‘‘Not really, you know, but just enough to scare him. We'll set fire to the wood and then when it’s begun to smoke some we'll put it out.’’ ‘‘“That’s risky,’? objected somebody. Ty say we...” eae) ‘‘Nonsense!’’ interrupted the leader. -iiyou don’t want to, run home, I aim.” And so once more he turned toward the wretched captive, who still kept up his shrieks. Ha, ha!’ he muttered,. ‘‘thy time: has come. Say thy last prayer.’ With which words he stepped quickly forward, struck the match upon his heel, and after holding it for a moment knelt down before the pile of leaves and wood. ‘Wow! Wow!’ roared Indian. ‘‘Stop! Stop! Help! Wo-oo-oo!”’ _ Another of those steam calliope wails. ‘He shrieks for mercy!’ muttered Bull. ‘‘He shrieks in vain. ‘There!?? The last exclamation came as he touched the match to the leaves, stood up and walked off to join his companions. ‘‘Form a ring,’’ he said, ‘‘and dance about him as he dies.’ The terror of Indian can scarcely be imagined ; he was almost on the verge of fainting as the hot choking smoke curled up and around his face. His yells grew louder and increased to a perfect shriek of agony. ‘Don’t you think we’d better stop.it now?’’ inquired one of the yearlings, more timid than the rest. ‘Rats!’ laughed Bull. started. I?ll manage it.’’ Bull’s ‘‘management’’ proved rather untrustworthy ; for Bull had forgotten to take into account the dryness of the twigs, and also another factor. ‘The air had been still as he struck the match, “Its hardly ARMY AND NAVY WEEKLY. but just at that moment a slight breeze swept along the ground, blowing the leaves before it. It struck the little fire and it seized one tiny flame and bore it up through the pile and about the legs of the imprisoned plebe. The next instant the yearlings were thrown into the wildest imaginable con- fusion by a cry from one of them. “Look out! Look out! His trousers are afire!”” ne CHARTER V.. TO THE RESCUE. _ Things happened in a whirl of confu- sion after that. ‘T'o the horrified cadets a thousand incidents seemed to crowd in at one moment. ae In the first place there was the terrified captive, bound helplessly to the tree, his clothing on fire, himself shrieking at the top of his lungs. .Then there were the yearlings themselves, all crying out with fright and alarm and rushing wildly in to drag the burning wood away. Finally there were other arrivals, whom, in the - excitement, the yearlings scarcely no- = ticed. There were two of them; one tore a knife from his pocket and cut the rope — in a dozen places, the other flung off his jacket and wrapped it quickly about In- dian’s feet, extinguishing the flames. And then the two stood up and gazed at the rest. The frightened yearlings and their infuriated victim. Infuriated? Yes, wildly infuriated! A change had come over Indian such as no one who knew him had ever seen before. The fire had not really hurt him; it had only ruined his clothing and scorched his legs enough to make him wild with rage. He had tugged at his bonds savagely; when he was cut free he had torn loose from the friendly stranger who had knelt to extinguish the fire, and made a savage rush at the badly-scared cadets. Indian’s face was convulsed with passion. His arms were swinging wildly like a windmill’s~sails in a hurricane, while from his mouth rushed a volley of exclamations that would have frightened Captain Kidd and his pirate band. It made no difference what he hit; the _ fat boy was too blind with rage to see. He must hit something! If a tree had. : “swith dirt and bruises. : ARMY AND NAVY WEEKLY. : 491 lain in his path he would have started in on that. As luck would have it, how- ever, the thing that was nearest to him was a yeatline—Baby Edwards. ( Baby could have been no more fright- ened if he had seen an express train charging’on him. He turned instantly and fled—where else would he flee but to his idol Bull. He hid behind that worthy; Bull put up his hands to defend himself; and the next instant Indian’s fly- ing arms reached the spot. One savage blow on the nose sent Bull tumbling backward—over Baby. Indian, of course, could not stop and so did a somersault over the two. There was a pretty melee after that. Baby was the first to emerge, covered ond; he gazed about him, “his rage still burning; he gave one snort, shook his head clear of the soil as an angry bull niight; and then made another savage rush at Baby. Baby this time had no friend to hide behind; Harris was lying on the ground, face down, as a man might do to protect himself in a cyclone. And so Baby had no resource —but flight; he took to his heels, the enraged ‘ plebe a few feet behind; and in half a minute more the pair were lost to sight and sound, far distant in the woods, In- dian still pursuing. It might be pleasant to follow them, for Indian in his rage was a sight to di- vert the gods. But there was plenty more happening at the scene of the fire, things that ought not be missed. In the first place, who were the two new atrivals? It was evident that they were plebes—their faces were familiar to the cadets. But beyond that no one knew anything about them. They had freed their helpless classmate and saved him from serious injury as has been told. They had done one thing more that has not been mentioned yet. One of them, the smaller, just after Indian had broken loose, had reached over and dealt the nearest yearling he could reach a ringing blow upon the cheek. “Take that!’ said he. you’re a deuced cur.”’ There was another melee after that. Of course the setting fire to Indian had been a pure accident; but the two strang- ‘“*Bah Jove, Indian got up sec-. ets did not know it. They saw in the whole thing a piece of diabolical cruelty. The yearling the wrath chanced to fall upon was Gus Murray—and_ his anger is left to the imagination. He sprang at the throat of the reckless plebe; and the rest of the crowd rushed to his aid, pausing just for an instant to size up the pair. They did not seem ‘‘to be any great shucks.’? ‘The taller, was a big slouchy- looking chap in clothes that evidently be- spoke the farmer, and possessing a drawl which quite as clearly indicated the situ- ation of the farm—the prairies. Having cut Indian loose he was lounging lazily against the tree and regarding his more excitable companion with a good-natured grin. The companion was even less awe-in- spiring, for one had to look at him but an instant to see that he was one of the creatures whom all well-regulated boys despise—a dude. He wore a high collar, ridiculously high; he was slender and delicate looking, with the correct Fifth avenue stoop to his shoulders and an atti- tude to his arms which showed that he had left his cane behind only on compulsion when he ‘‘struck the Point.”’ And any doubts the yearlings may have had on this question were settled as the yearlings stared, for the object turned to the other and spoke. ‘‘Aw say, Sleepy,’’ said he, ‘‘come help me chastise these fellows, don’t ye know.”’ As a fact there was but little choice in the matter, it was fight or die with the two, for at the same instant Gus Murray, wild with rage, had leapt forward and made a savage lunge at the dude. What happened then Murray never quite knew. All he made out was that when he hit at the dude the dude sud- denly ceased to be there. The yearling glanced around in surprise and discovered that his victim had slid coolly under his elbow and was standing over on the other side of the clearing—smiling. The rest of the crowd, not in the least daunted by Murray’s muff, rushed in to the attack; and a moment later a_ wild scrimmage was in progress, a Scrimamage which defied the eye to comprehend and the pen to describe. The former never moved from the tree, but with his back 492 flat against it and his great clumsy arms swinging like sledge hammers he stood and bid defiance to his share of the crowd. The dude’s tactics were just the oppo- site. He was light and slender, and should have been easy prey. That was what Bull Harris thought as he hastily arose from the spot where Indian had butted him and joined his eager comrades inthe hunt. The hunt;a hunt it was, and no mistake. While the farmer stayed in one place, the dude seemed every where atonce. Dodging, ducking, running, he seemed just to escape every blow that was aimed at him. He seemed even to turn somersaults, to the amazed yearlings, who had been looking fora dude and not an acrobat. The dude did not dodge all the time, though; occasionally he would stop to cool the ardor of some especially excited cadet with a sudden punch where it wasn’t looked for. Once also hestuck out his foot and allowed Bull Harris to get his legs caught in it, with a result that Bull’s nose once more plowed the clear- ing. _ The writer wishes it were his privilege to chronicle the fact that the two put the eight to flight; or that Indian having put the baby ‘‘to sleep,’’ returned to perform yet greater prodigies of valor. It would be a pleasure to tell of all that, but on the other hand truth is a stubborn thing. Things do not always happen as they should in spite of the providence that is suppose to make them. The farmer, after a five-minute gal- lant stand that would- have put Custer’s “Seventh” to shame, was finally knocked down (from behind), and once down, he was being fast puimmelled into nothing- ness. The dude (his collar, much to his alarm, having wilted), was in the last stage of exhaustion. In fact Bull had succeeded in landing a blow, the first of the afternoon for him. ‘The dude was about to give up and perish, when assist- ance arrived. For these gallant heroes were not fated to conquer alone. The first warning of the arrival of rein- forcements was not the trumpet call, nor the roll of a drum, nor even the tramp of soldiers, but a muttered “Durnation!’? This was followed by Texas himself, bursting through _ the ARMY AND NAVY WEEKLY. bushes like a battering ram. Mark was ae his side, and behind them came the Par-— crippled, once more. traditional © = son. Dewey, being rather brought up the rear. an The four lost no time in questions; they saw two plebes in distress, and they had met Indian on the warpath and learned — the cause of the trouble. They knew it — was their business to help and they — ‘sailed right in?’ to do it. 5 Mark placed himself by the side of the panting: ‘‘dude.’? ‘Texas and the Parson made a V formation and speedily got the | farmer to his feet and in fighting array _ And after that the odds of the battle were more even. are It was a very brief battle, in fact. - a mete skirmish after that. Mark’s prowess was dreaded, and that of Texas but little less. After Texas had chased two yearl- ings into the woods, and Mark had stretched out Bull (that was Bull’s third time that afternoon) the ardor of the eight began to wane. It was not very long then before the attack stopped by mutual con- sent, and the combatants took to staring at each other instead. The rage of Bull as he picked himself up and examined his damages must be imagined. . ‘You confounded plebes shall pay for this,’’ he roared, ‘‘as sure as I’m alive.” ‘Now ??’ inquired Mark, smiling, rub- bing his hands, and looking ready to re- sume hostilities. “It’s a case of blamed swelled head, that’s what it is,’’ growled the other sul- lenly. ‘‘Which,’? added the Parson’s solemn voice, ‘‘might be somewhat more classic-. ally expressed by the seequipedalian Hellenic vocable—ahem !—Megalacepha- lomania.”’ With which interesting bit of informa- tion (presented gratis) the Parson care- fully laid his beloved Dana on the ground and sat down on it for safety. ‘Why can’t you plebes mind your busi- ness, anyhow ?”’ snarled Gus Murray. ‘“That’s what I say, too!’ cried Bull. ‘‘Curious coincidence !”’ laughed — Dewey. ‘‘Reminds me of a story I once heard, b’gee—I guess it’s most too long a story to tell through. Remind me of it, Mark, and I’ll tell it to you some day. . One of the most remarkable tales I ever heard, that! Told me by a fellow that used torun a sausage factory. It was right next door to a ‘‘Home for Homeless Cats,’? though, b’gee, I cotildn’t ever see how the cats were homeless if they had a home there. They didn’t stay very long, though. That was the funniest part of it. They used to siton the fence mear the sausage factory, b’gee——’”? — : Dewey could have prattled on that way till doomsday with unfailing good humor. It made the yearlings mad and that was all he cared about. But by this time Bull had perceived that he was be- ing guyed, and he turned away with an angry exclamation. ‘Vou fellows may stay if you choose,’’ he said, ‘‘I’m geing back to camp. And those plebes shall pay for this!”’ ‘*Cash on demand!’’ laughed Mark, as the discomfited crowd turned and slunk off. CHAPTER VE IN WHICH THE ALLIANCE IS COMPLETED. Having been thus easily rid of their un- pleasant enemies, the plebes set out in high feather for home. “T must get back in time to dress for dinner, don’t ye know,’’ said the dude. (lm ‘biiced to yew fellows,’ put in the farmer, getting up from his seat with a lazy groan. ‘‘My name’s Methusalem Zebediah Chilvers, and Ill shake hands all raound.’? ‘CAnd mine’s Chauncey Van Rensallear Mount-Bonsall, don’t ye know,”’ said the other, putting on his immaculate white gloves. ‘‘Bah Jove! I’ve lost a cuff but- ton, quarreling with those deuced yearl- ings!” Chauncey’s cuff button was found at last—he vowed he wouldn’t go to dinner without it—and then the party started in earnest, the two strangers giving a graphic and characteristic account of the scrimmage we have just witnessed. Mark in the meantime was doing some thinking, wondering if here were not two more eligible members of the ‘‘alliance.’’ - While he was debating this question the ‘(dude?’ approached him privately and be- gan thus: ‘