SPECIAL FEATURE! A Splendid Naval Academy Cadet Story by Ensign Clarke Fitch, U. S. N. complete in this number. 5 oe * & AAPOR HHH Hee tite IBUENNT EEE TWO DISTINGUISHED FRIENDS - THE ARMY AND NAVY WEEKLY } nN i ilies, Use NG sot Bence ajo M 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. I am, with best wishes for your success, Major Genoral, U. S. Army. New York City, April 20, 1897. Howarp, 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 in fighting for one’s country, but in upholding the law 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 ‘af 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 discipIfMe 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. tn off ua T— eee Chee fpf. Army and Navy Weekly A WEEKLY PUBLICATION FOR OUR BOYS. Issued weekly. By subscription, $2.50 per year. Entered as Second-Class Matter at the New York Post Office HOWARD, AINSLEE & CO., 238 William Street, New York. Copyrighted 1897. Editor, - - = ARTHUR SEWALL. September 18, 1897. Val 1 No. Price, Five Cents. CONTENTS OF THIS NUMBER: An Enemy’s Blow (Complete story), Ensign Clarke Fitch, U. S. N. Mark Mallory in Camp (Complete story), Lieut. Frederick Garrison, U. S. A. Dumaresque’s Diamond (Illustrated Short Story) Robert Richardson A Legacy of Peril (Serial), William Murray Graydon Dean Dunham (Serial) Horatio Alger, Jr. Winning His Spurs (special article) Winning With the Wheel (Serial), Victor St. Clair . : ‘ ; : ‘ ; Editorial Chat, . ; : : : ; : ‘ : i Department Athletic Sports, .. 5 5 ‘ ; : : : ‘ ; Department Items of Interest all the World Over 5 ; ‘ Department Correspondence Column, : ‘ ; : , : : ‘ Department Stamps Column, . ee : : : : : : Department ‘The Shipkeeper (Special Article). : : : : : : : ‘ , Amateur Journalism. : ; : : : : : : Department Our Joke Department . : : : : : : ; . ; 5 A RIZE CONTEST. Soa W* DESIRE to obtain the opinion of our readers on the subject of the best stories, serials and departments for the ARmMy anD Navy WEEKLY. It is 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- 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 Weexty, HOWARD, | AINSLEE & CO., No. 238 William Street, New York City. AN ENEMY’S BLOW; ? -CLIF FARADAY IN PERIL. Bw BEnsigon Clarke Fitch, Ue So. Ne CHAPTER I. ON BOARD THE MONONGAHELA. “Tf I had known this you wouldn’t have caught me entering the darned old _ Academy.” “What under the “sun is: the matter now??? ‘*Look at this place they intend us to occupy.”’ ‘It’s small and pretty well omuded I know, Toggles, but it won’t hurt us to rouen it a little,’ ‘You can see a ‘bright side in every- thing, Clif Faraday.’ The speaker’s companion laughed. He was a. sturdy, well-built lad with a handsome, manly face and an air of quiet self-possession peculiarly attractive. “Ou, 1 dont know,” he rephed. . “I can kick pretty lively sometimes, old fel- low. This isn’t so bad when you come to look at it. Of course it’s rather cramped, and it looks as if they haven’t given us plebes as much room as they have the other classes, but you must remember that we ce a big crew for the old Monon- _gahela. Boies whose proper name was T. Oggles. Andrews, the two first having been promptly shortened by the hazing third class at the Naval Academy, looked disconsolately around the berth deck of the practice ship and sighed. ~ He wasa tall, lanky lad witha lean good-natured face anda habit of object- ing to things on general principles. His objections never lasted very long, how- ever. Hecast another look about the teeming berth deck with its groups of naval cadets, then he grinned and pointed chuckled. over to one corner where a youth equally as thin as himself was chasing a smaller boy. “Get on to Joy and Nanny? fe. ‘They are like two kids fresh from——”” ‘“Great Scott!” The exclamation came from Clif Fara- day, and it was immediately followed by a startled cry of fear and a series of bumps and thuds. ‘‘Heavens! Nanny is down the hatch,’’ came from Toggles’ lips. ~He has hurt himself. ”? The two plebes made a oh toward an open hatchway, which occupied a spot in the centre of the forward part of the deck. It led down to the various ship storerooms and was guarded only by small six-inch coaming, or rim. As the cadets crowded about the open-- ing they heard a sneeze followed by a voice upraised i in shrill lamentation, ‘*Darn your skinny soul, Joy, I’ll have you court-martialed for this,’’ came from the darkness below. ‘‘Ouch! Murder! My neck is broken in eleven places: What are you staring at up there, darn you? Why don’t you help a Bee to the morgue or hospital ?”’ oe guess Nanny’s all right,’ did Clif, with a chuckle. ‘‘Anyway his voice isn’t broken.” He started to descend the hatch laden but before he had taken more than ie steps an undersized lad in plebe uniform scrambled up and rushed toward a thin youth with a preternaturally solemn face. ‘*Darn you, Joy!’ he howled. .° 17) give you the worst licking you ever got. You chased me down that hatchway on ARMY AND NAVY WEEKLY. purpose, you Seca you did, darn you!’” He caught the thin. youth by his black shock hair and gave it a tug that brought a half-suppressed cry from him. Joy tried to grin, but the pain was too great, and he was compelled to act in self-defense. Grasping Nanny by the back of his blouse he held him out at arm’s length and held him there kicking and strug- gling for a moment, then he coolly dropped- him into a division tub half filled with water. ~ The cadets laughed as the irate little plebe sputtered and scrambled his way _ out. But Joy maintained his usual ex- pression of solemnity. — ‘Why won’t you be peaceable, Nanny Gote?’’ he sighed. ‘‘How many times have I told you that scrapping and row- ing don’t pay on this turbulent sphere? Look at me. Ain’t I a living example of the result of ‘peace and quietness ?”’ ‘Vou area fake of the deepest dye, - John Joy,’’ retorted Nanny, wringing the water from his blouse. ‘‘You are a peace- able man—nit! You are the darndest -scrapper in the Academy. You make me tired, darned if you don’t. Git out!”’ With the last words he gave his late antagonist a smack across the face with his wet blouse, and then darted up the ladder leading to the upper deck. Just then an erect, stiff-looking cadet, - with the bars of a corporal upon his sleeves came striding forward. He stopped in front of the group which had suddenly grown serious, and glanced from “the bespattered deck to Joy, who was making sly efforts to wipe the moisture from his face. ‘“‘Gorty, it’s the plebe deviler, Corporal Sharp,’’ whispered Clif Faraday, coming to attention. ‘‘He’ll raise seven kinds of rows now.”’ _*Qur name is mud,’’ groaned Toggles. ‘*Sirs, what does this mean??? sternly demanded the youthful non-commissioned officer. ‘‘What does this mean? Don’t all speak at once. Don’t run over one another trying to answer. Why don’t you speak? | Who spilled this water upon the deck? What are you doing. down here, anyway? Who said you cquld leave the upper deck? Mr. Faraday!” _ He wheeled upon Clif and seeped out the words with his cole face within a foot of the former’s. see Clif bowed. “Why don’t you answer your superior Ge officer ?’’ demanded Corporal Sharp, more fiercely than ever.. ‘‘Can’t you find your tongue? Why did you make that mess on the deck, sir?” a This was a direct effortto do Clif an injustice, as the corporal had no means of A murmur knowing the guilty party. came from the other plebes. “Stop that! How dare you open your © mouths until you are addressed ?”” growled Sharp. ‘‘This is going too far. Ill have the whole lot of you before the com-" mandant. Fallin, there! Attention, for- ward column left, mar-mar-ch-h!”’ The ‘‘plebe deviler’’ marched his squad — across the deck to the Jadder and up into the outer air, growling orders at every step. On reaching the spar deck he gave them an ex@ra raking over and then said with a final outburst: ‘Break ranks, march! Now get over to the Santee and bring your bags and hammocks, The rest of the class is there. You are to be on board ready for the cruise before six bells. It is now twenty-. nine minutes of that time. March-h!”’ “Whew! That’s the worst dose yet,’’ whistled Toggles as they hurried over the sidé of the training ship to the deck. ‘He caught us for fair that time. Ien7t he a lu-lu?”? ‘Why can’t .he be a peaceable man ——’’ began Joy, but Nanny was there to check him and the precious twain had it hot and heavy for a momént, finally ending in a mutual grin. Their little differences were only on the surface. ‘‘Fellows,’’ said Clif as they started up the long gangway of the old receiving ship Santee, ‘‘we are not leaving all fun oe us when we sail on our summer cruise. ae hazing either,’’ added Nowy sagely. ‘No, nor hazing. That. little brote, Sharp, is showing “his hand pretty early. You know Archie Bland ?”’ “Ves. He's that great iniend of your] in the new second. What about him?’’ ‘*He said to me this morning the haz- ing third had vowed the deepest kind of oath that they would square that gradua- | 628° tion ball account and several others before this cruise was over.’” ; “Don’t you care,’’ grinned Toggles. ‘Not on your merry-go-round,’’ fe- plied Clif, grimly. ‘‘Two can play at any old game they try on us.”’ : eer penne SEE CHAPTER IL CLIF SAYS GOOD-BY. The day for the commencement of the annual summer cruise of the Naval Acad- emy training ships had arrived at last. It wasa day looked forward to with keen anticipations by more than one class in the old Academy. It meant a great deal to the young cadets who were fortu- nate enough to form a part of the prac- tice crews. It meant a relaxation of rules, freedom from the hard grind of study (and in no other government school ig the world save West Point are the studies so severe and taxing) a delightful change of scene, aud, last but not least, a chance to see something of that grand old ocean and the mysteries and romances of foreign climes. Small wonder that the Academy~ had been in a fever of impatience for days and.days. ‘The excitement of graduation week, the passing of the upper class, and the uproarious departure of the furlough class had given way at last to the prepar- ations for the departure of the practice vessels. : Clif Faraday and his companions of the new fourth class had been busy since -reveille on this seventh day of June get- ting their belongings together for the transfer to the Monongahela. ‘They were under the direct charge of Cadet Cor- poral Sharp, termed ‘‘plebe deviler,’’ for the autocratic and insolent manner in which he ‘‘bossed’’ them. Clif, Toggles, Joy, Nanny and several other plebes had been sent on board the Monongahela on some trivial duty. Watching their chances while the ‘‘deviler’? was away, they had escaped to the berth deck with the intention of in- specting their new quarters. Their first impressions were not the most encouraging. The part of the deck allotted to the plebes was small and cramped. It seemed hardly possible to ARMY AND NAVY WEEI them that forty lusty youn g live in such a confined space. As yet they did not know the power a a ‘shaking down’? possessed by an exper- — ienced executive officer, There were many wonderful things to be learned by them before they returned to the Acad- emy. | ee On reaching the Santee after being ~ driven from the Monongahela by Cor- poral Sharp, Clif and his mates found the berth deck in an uproar. Plebes and hammocks and clothing bags were mixed up in what seemed hopeless confusion. _ A master-at-arms and a warrant officer - were superintending the details of the — transfer, but their presence had no fe- ~ straint on the happy plebes. ‘Hurray! here, Faraday!’ shouted a — short, stocky youth with thick black hair and acountenance plainly foreign. He was a Japanese student admitted to the Academy at the request of his govern- ment. His name, Motohiko Asaki, had been changed to ‘‘Motor,’? and then by ~ easy deduction to ‘‘Trolley,’’ and as such he was known. He was a placid, good- — natured lad, very clever in his studies, but still not averse to a little mischief. He was lost in amazement atthe peculi- arities of the English language, with its wealth of slang. great admirer of Clif Faraday. ‘“‘Flurray! here Faraday!’ he shouted when the squad of plebes descended the berth deck ladder. with both hands outstretched. Clif greeted him with a smile. Still. packing, ‘“‘Gorry, it either takes you a long time or you have a lot of duds.”’ ae “T no got much, but I an—I am—” He glanced appealingly at Joy. “Not in it,’? prompted the latter, who had installed himself as tutor in slang to the Jap. ce ‘Ves. J not within it,’? orimned tue Jap. these greatly to be admired uniform clothing. I what you call a—what matter , with you?”’ : : This last wag addressed to a lad who had just brushed past him rather uncere- inoniously. The fellow turned and re? plied insolently : fea Bee Moreover, he was a ~ Dropping an armful | of clothing he rushed across the deck a = Trolley ? he said. a “I no crack some ice asa packer cf ARMY AND. NAVY WEEKLY. “what | is the matter with you? you keep out of the way ?”’ “YT have plenty right to stand here, Judson Greene,’’ replied Trolley with some dignity. ‘‘You no got right to push me away.’ < ‘*Oh, go back to Japan where you be- long,’’ was the sneering rejoinder. ‘‘The United States haven’t any business keep- ing a charity school for foreigners.’’ Vidal halthat’s a good hit, Juddy,’’ laughed a plebe with a pale, dissipated face. *‘The Naval Academy is getting to be a kindergarten for Chinese and Japs and Central Americans. It’s no place for a decent chap any more’? The twain strolled off still laughing. Trolley’s usual placid expression faded, and an angry light blazed in his dark eyes. He clenched his hands and made a step after his insulters, but Clif stopped him. - “Not now, old fellow,’’ said Faraday quietly. ‘‘Let it go for the present. When we get out to sea there will be lots of opportunities.’ oe no go tight to call me a charity man,’’ replied the Japanese youth, proud- ly. “ay family rich and have high posi- tion in society at home. I no do anything now, Clif, as you tell me not to, but some day2—3 He left the group with head thrown _ back and defiance and resolution evident in every action. ‘“Trolley’s got his mad up,’’ remarked a plebe with a good-natured face and curly brown hair. —Me. has every right to be angry, Grat,’’ said Clif warmly. ‘‘He’s a good fellow and a gentleman, and that is more than can be said of Judson Greene and _ Chris Spendly. No one with even the greatest stretch of imagination could call them gentlemen. ’? “I should rather say not,’? spoke up Toggles, preparing to pack his clothes bag. “Hes not only a miserable, con- temptible, unmannerly, dod-gasted, onery cad, but he is a traitor as well. It was Cant __ he who told the upper class fellows that we intended to sneak into the masquer- ade hop in the army last night.” m2 1 Bat’s true”? exclaimed Nanny, ex- ay Clit overheard some of the sec- ond class fellows oe about 7 said the informer was Judson.”’ a **He’ll come to the end of his rope be- ‘They fore this cruise is over,’’ replied Clit, — lashing his hammock. “(He'll not even have the chance of resigning like Kel- ley. 7 ‘“By the way, did you hear the latest. about that precious scamp??’ said Grat Wallace, pausing in his work to look at Cit, : ‘‘No. He went home, didn’t he??? ae ‘‘Not much. He has been hanging around Annapolis. He was in Portugee Joe’s den last night, and I heard he was ~ a8 saying that he wouldn’t be satisfied un- til he had you out of the Academy also.” Clif laughed. a ‘That's pretty. cheeky," exclaimed - Joy. ‘‘The fellow don’t remember that Clif saved his life at the physical labora- tory fire. What ingratitude! I tell you, it all shows the evil result of scrapping. Why can’t we all live in peace ?”’ He ended by flooring poor little Nanny with one end of his lashed hammock and then sitting upon the youngster’s pros- trate body. ‘‘So Kelley is still in Annapolis, and threatens to see me run from the Acad-. emy, eh?’’ said Clif, grimly. ‘‘Well, he may, but it won’t be through any scheme of his. He’s a sneak and a raseal and | the place is well rid of him. There comes Sharp. Look alive, with your dunnage, fellows.’ The cadet corporal stalked down the steps as if he was the admiral of the en- tire navy. He growled out an order and the plebes shouldered their bags and a hammocks and hurried to the deck. bope There a line was formed and the whole ~ 2 class marched out upon the dock. The space in front of the Monongahela, which. lay further down, was crowded with ca- — dets of the other classes, and a number of visitors from the town who had gathered -to witness the sailing of the practice ships. Among them. were ladies. several young Nanny’s shrill voice chuckled: ‘‘Hurray! Thereshe is, chum. There's — Tess Herndon on hand to ee ees s % As the plebes marched over the a gangway Clif felt some one nudge and ee S tears at your departure. Of oir to have. **” Clif glanced over the crowd and caught sight of a very pretty girl with a sweet, winsome face, standing near an elderly lady. The younger one smiled and made a motion with her hand. ‘It’s Tess sure enough, ? murmured Clif. ‘Bless her heart, she is determined to see the last of me.”’ He was compelled to listen to a great _ deal of chaffing from his friends as the plebes marched toward the Monongahela, but he took it with characteristic paed nature. Ranks were broken in front of the practice ship, and the lad had a chance to speak to Tess. He improved the op- portunity without loss of time, it may be assured. When the command came to go on board, he caught one of her hands and said ey ‘‘You won’t forget me, Miss Herndon, while lam away on the deep blue sea, I hope?’ “No, not if you promise me one thing, Mr. Faraday,’’ she replied. “IT promise in advance. What is it?’ She dropped her eyes, and said so soft- ly that only he could hear: ‘“That—that you won’t Jose your— your heart to some fair girl abroad.’ Clif smiled. ‘That is a physical impossibi ta oe replied in the same tone. ‘‘I have lost it already—‘Tess.’? - The next moment he was gone over the towering side of the old sailing frig- ate with his comrades. She’s the kind et eerie COAPTER 1. PREPARATIONS FOR SAILING. The practice fleet at the Annapolis Naval Academy consists of three vessels, two steam and one sail. ‘The former are the tug Standish and the new gunboat Annapolis. The old Monongahela forms the third of the trio, aud itis by far.the most in- teresting in point of picturesqueness. She was formerly a screw cruiser built in 1862, and changed after the war into a sailing practice ship for the use of the cadets. She is large and roonfy and an ideal vessel for the purpose. ARMY AND NAVY WEEKLY. Besides the regular detail of officers a small crew of seamen is carried, although the cadets practically man the ship. The latter are arranged in four di- visions for great gun-exercise, the di- visions containing an equal number of guns’ crews. Each gun crew is composed of sixteen’ men, distributed as nearly as possible among the several classes. Each division constitutes a battery for light artillery drill, and a company for infantry drill. For exercises in seaman- ship the guns’? crews are grouped in watches, the odd-numbered crews mak- ing the starboard watch and the even numbered crews the port watch. The watches are stationed as a ship’s company at seamanship exercises. Dur- ing the cruise the first class men perform the duties of seamen and petty officers, and they act at intervals as officers of the forecastle, and mates of the lower deck, and as officers of the deck. The second class generally sail with the cadet engineers on the Academy eun- boat, where they act as seamen and petty officers. The third class cadets occupy the posi- tions of landsmen and ordinary seamen, and are exercised in making the various knots, splices, hitches, and ends, and in fitting rigging, boxing the compass, heaving the log and lead; steering and 10 loosing, furling and reefing sail. The plebes have all they can do to be- come accustomed to life on board ship. They learn the names. of the masts, yards, ropes and sails, and of the different — parts of the vessel. . At drill they are stationed as landsmen until they become familiar with the duties of this class of men. They are not per- mitted to learn a little of every branch, but are taught slowly and thoroughly. Clif and his companions found. the deck of the old ship a scene of confusion when they boarded her. Cadets and men and officers were moving here and there striving to get the vessel in readiness for : leaving the dock. _ The plebes were hurried below, ‘‘like so many measly sheep,’’ growled Toggles in disgust. Corporal Sharp took them in hand and after exhausting his supply of sarcastic comments, managed to see their hammocks and bags stowed. ARMY AND NAVY WEEKLY. : Then they were rushed on deck and told to lend a hand when called upon. Asa matter of course they found them- selves in the way, and were railed at as’ land lubbers by the older cadets. At last Clif managed to slip into a corner back of a broadside gun. He was imniediately joined by Trolley and Joy, both fairly dazed with the bustle and tush. ‘(This what you call high old time,’’ commented the Jap, wiping his perspir- ing brow. “‘It like war, | tec Hur- ray! watch them run around.’ ‘(And to think that all this is carried on in the name of bloodshed,”’ sighed Joy. ‘‘Isn’t it enough to make a fellow’s heart sad to see so much energy go to waste.”” “Sad! You old fake,’’ laughed Clif. ‘(Nothing pleases you better than to see a ats, or afight, or an ordinary scrap.’ . “He what you calla high biuff,”’ gtinned Trolley. ‘‘Look!. There come Nanny. He excited like everything.”’ The little lad hopped into the retreat behind the gun and fell to lamenting in a doleful voice. ‘If this is what they pline, I don’t want any in mine,’’ he groaned, “Tt’s a regular bedlam. Some of those first class fellows who have been to sea before think they own the ship. One of them told me to take anchor to the ship’s cook, and got as mad as blazes when I said I couldn't lift it. But, say, you ought to see that chump, Judson Greene.”’ ‘(What's happened to hint??? ‘Nanny chuckled gleefully. term naval disci- ‘’Phree of the uppers got him under ~ the forecastle awning while they were ‘furling it, and they almost smothered him to death. He looked like a skinned pig when he escaped. ‘(Here comes Corporal denly exclaimed Trolley. Sharp,’’ sud- The next moment the retreat back of ‘the gun was deserted, and its late oceu- pants scattered in different parts of the deck. Shortly before noon the Monongahela was towed out into the stream bya tug. It was intended to sail directly down the bay, but the non arrival of expected cee orders from Washington chised the cap- = tain to drop anchor “off the end of the- wharf. The afternoon was i to get- : ting things to rights and before nightfall the old ship was in shape for the cruise. The different boats’ found himself honored by being attached to the captain’s S gig. eral rule to place a plebe in that boat, and the selection caused some little jeal- ousy. “It seems to me hoe are picked out for rapid promotion,’ sneered Corporal Sharp. ‘‘Been getting your fame up so you would be noticed by the old man.’” ‘That may be your practice, but it isn’t mine,’’ coolly retorted Clif. A possible conflict was averted by the sound of the boatswain’s whistle calling away tlre captain’s gig. Clif went to his place in the boat conscious of the fact that he would be regarded by his mates as an intruder. “Pildo my duty and mind my own business,’ he silently resolved. Petrie 5 i guess I won't get into much treuble.’ He did not know what was in store for him, nor what he was fated to undergo before he again saw the Monongaliela. When the boat was in readiness captain entered and ordered the coxswain to take him to the town wharf. at tie i eens peace CHAPTER iV. THE PLOT. After the captain left the gig at the landing the crew of cadets was permitted to stroll about the wharf, always keeping in sight of the boat. It was not long before Clif saw that he was the object of considerable attention. The majority of the gig’s crew were third classmen, but the -coxswain was from the first class. The latter was a gentlemanly, good- natured fellow named Blakely, and he it was who had conducted a fight between Judson Greene and Clif shortly after they had entered the Academy. He rather ad- mired Clif for his nerve and prowess dia played on that eventful occasion, but he was a strict believer in class etiquette, ae a seu crews had been — selected, and Clif, to his great pleasure, — It was not the gen- *(0¢9 eSed) SGNVH ,SSHL JO BNO LHYAVO AITO ‘auvOd NO OD OL HWVO GNVWNOO FHL NEHM wharf. ARMY AND NAVY WEEKLY. and he blamed Faraday for taking such a - decided stand against class hazing. Clif did not leave the boat at first, but becoming rather tired of his cramped quarters he finally climbed up on the He noticed several of his gig- mates standing near the other edge. They were talking earnestly and occasionally one would look in his direction. “AN eats this, a plot?*-he mused, grimly. ‘‘It seems rather suspicious. 1 guess they wouldn’t hesitate to play mea measly trick if they had a chance.”’ Presently one of them walked over and said something to Blakely. The latter shook his head in a very decided manner. Clif had seated himself upon a con- venient string piece and from that point of vantage he watched matters closely, although pretending to be indifferent. He saw the cadet leave Blakely and re- join his fellows. _ A little negro boy came upon the wharf, evidently attracted by the group of cadets. One of the latter beckoned to him and gave him some directions, and what was evidently a piece of money. The boy hurried away and disappeared in the dusk of the evening. “Development. nuinber one,’’ muted Clif, stretching himself. plot thickens.’ A few moments later four of the gig’s crew approached him lead by a burly ca- det, the son of a naval officer named Crane. “T say, plebe, is it true you intend to leave the Academy ?’’ he asked, in a loud voice. Clif saw Blakely turn and look in his direction. He was not surprised at the question. He was expecting almost any- thing. ‘*Did you speak to mes i he drawled. **Ves, I spoke to you.’ “And what did you say, sir?’’ “Vou heard it. Are you going to leave the Academy ?’’ Clif nodded. ‘Vou are?’ queried his questioner, who had evidently expected a reply in the negative. ‘‘When?”’ "sin about six -yeats, ” sponded Clif. know.’ Blakely chuckled, mur- “The gravely re- ‘‘When I graduate, you startling discovery. eh??? snarlec | “6g think: it is “Trying to be fresh, Crane, flushing angrily. about time some of that impudence i istaken — And for two ae I would do : out of you. 1: 2: Clif languidly searched tis blouse, then sprang lightly into a small enue dying = He speedily regained the wharf, and those watching hie saw that ae he held two small wooden objects in his next the gig. hands. Extending them, he said quietly: “‘Can’t find the kind you want, but I = hope these thole-pins will do. Here are two of them. Is that all you need??? And Blakely chuckled again. Crane glared at Clif for a moment, then he stepped forward. But the big coxswain was too quick for him. ‘“‘Stow that, Crane,’’ he said authori- tatively. “11 not let a confounded plebe talk back to me,’’? hotly exclaimed Crane. ] a his fellow Faraday——’’ eat will to; sit.” The words came sharply from the up- per class man’s lips, and they had imme- diate effect. Crane held his tongue. There was an awkward silence, for a moment then Crane and his aeseares turned away leaving Clif master of the situation. ‘Better keep your tongue to yourself, youngster,’’ said Blakely, gruffly. “You are a fool to court trouble, there’s enough of it that comes without courting in this. — Academy. Keep quiet and bide your time. It won’t be a thousand years be- fore you belong to the hazing third; then ~ you will know how it is.’’ Clif nodded respectfully. He was will- ing to hold his tongue when asked de- cently. Blakely lazily threw himself upon a bale and looked out across the waters of the river to where the old Monongahela 4 was fast becoming a vague tracery of hull and rigging in the gathering darkness. His thoughts were still with the recent 4 scene, however, and he chuckled ee, aa to himeelt at ene “‘Gad, but he’s worth adozen of Crate a (Hels) clever, and ell take asmart one to get I like the plebe, even if a and his’ chains »» he murmured. the best of him. he is cheeky.”’ oe In the meantime Clif had made atather _ Soke to glance a 684. o © up the street leading from the wharf he -- saw-a tall youth glad in civilan’s cloth- ing walking rapidly across the roadway. He recognized the fellow at once. _ It was an ex-cadet named Kelley, who in trying to ruin Clif by setting fire to the physical laboratory, had brought dis- grace upon himself and was forced to re- _ sign. The moment he espied him, Clif re- called Grat Wallace’s words. They were to the effect that Kelley was lingering in Annapolis with the intention of harming . Clif if an opportunity turned up. It was with an added interest, there- fore, that Clif watched the fellow hurry across the street. He disappeared round a corner and was seen no more, Twilight merged into darkness and still the gig’s crew lolled about the wharf awaiting the return of the captain. They had eaten supper before leaving the Mo- nongahela, a circumstance for which they were truly thankful. . Crane and his comrades of the third class kept together and talked in low tones. Clif and Blakely exchanged words now and again to relieve the monotony. Suddenly when- the big coxswain had yawned and stretched his arms for the hundredth time, a dusky figure crept from the darkness and halted under a lamp swinging upon the wharf hard. by the gig. It was a little negro boy and he held tightly clutched in his hand an envelope. He bobbed his head in a quaint salute, showed his gleaming teeth in a broad grin, then he asked: ‘“Am de coxswain ob de Monongahela’s gig hyar, suh?’?’ ‘“What’s wanted, kid?’ asked Blake- ly, rising from his seat. ““Hyar’s a letter from de_ captain, suh,’? replied the boy, extending the hand clutching the envelope. Blakely tore open the letter and scanned the contents. ‘Then he whistled softly, and glanced at Clif. ‘‘Captain Brooks wants you to carry some papers back to the wharf,’’ he said briefly. ‘‘Go with this youngster, Fara- day. Ghake a leg, the old man is in a hurry. ’? Clif’s brief experience at the . Naval Academy had taught him eae, so ARMY AND NAVY. ‘WEEKLY. he did not fa ha. as “he oe the negro lad up the street he confessed | to a tather troublesome feeling of sur- prise. As the two vanished in the darkness, Crane and his companions exchanged ~ glances of peculiar significance. **He bit beautifully, »» murmured the former. ‘‘Now, we’ll see if Master Clif Faraday can get out of this scrape.’ a ed Rone CHAPTER V. LEFT BRHINGE. Clif’s surprise did not diminish as he accompanied his dusky guide up the street. In fact it rather increased. He. could not imagine how it was that he, a conimon, ordinary plebe, had been se- lected by the captain for special favors. In the navy a request to perform extra work by the commanding officer is con- sidered an honor. Clif knew it, and he marveled at his sudden bound into~-so much popularity. He questioned the negro boy, but could get nothing from him save that Captain Brooks had called him from the street to deliver the message. ‘‘Where is he?”? queried Clif. ‘Dunno name ob de street,’’ unsatisfactory reply. long. cupola. The “big house wid de cupola’’ was the state capital. ‘They passed that, turned down a side street from State circle, and then turned once more into a small thoroughfare not _ familiar to Clif. The last turn was too. much for the lad and he stopped. ‘‘Where in the deuce——”’ he began, addressing his guide. The last word was lost in the quick crunching of a blow given fairly upon his head, and down he | tumbled, stretched in a heap at the feet of two men and a tall youth. “That settles his: hasan.” the latter with evident was the **Y-ain’t livee hyar It’s beyant de big house wid de men. will do the rest.’? | - ‘“Sh-h! Not so loud with that Mae exclaimed =~ satisfaction. © ‘“You know how to doit, Joe.”’ ‘‘Ouit talking and help get him tothe | house,’’ impatiently replied one of the ‘“Take his legs, Kelley ; Pat = - muttered the youth, glancing about in the darkness. A low laugh came from the other speaker as he stooped over to lift Clif’s unconscious body. Between the three they managed to lift the lad, and bear him away through an alley to the rear door of alow, drinking eden. se He was bundled into a room and bound hand and foot. Asan added precaution an unsavory gag was thrust into: his mouth. Lhe latter was not needed, how- ever, as the cowardly blow had done its work well. Twenty minutes passed, then Clif was unceremoniously brought back to con- sciousness by a liberal application of cold water. He was made to drink some de- coction, which left him in a semi-stupor. His plebe uniform was removed anda rough suit such as worn by merchant sailors placed in its stead. Then he was escorted reeling and stumbling from the den down unfrequented streets to the water edge. A boat was in waiting. As they were entering a policeman strolled along and watched the proceedings with languid i in- terest. “Got too much of a load on, grinned. : ‘“Vep,’’ replied one ‘The same old thing. tough licker here.’ All hands laughed ; and the boat shoved off from shore. It was rowed leisurely out to where a schooner lay rising and falling at anchor. The tall youth received them at the gangway and assisted in carrying the al- most helpless lad to the cabin. He was placed in a room and thekey turned. The twain who had escorted him from shore returned there, but the tall youth re- mained. The eh??? he oe) of Clif’s captors. You keep purty after hours break of dawn Clif aroused himself from the deadly, drug-begotten stupor. Shortly sped by. moments to come to a realization of his situation. And when he did finally recall the message, the walk with the negro lad, and the blow in .. the darkness he was as a caged lion. It took him many the door with his shoulder, ARMY AND NAVY WEEKLY. : 8 630 The miserable villain. he 7 ered, pounding upon the door. They couldn't get the best of me any other way and they had to resort to such a trick as this. It’s the work of that fellow Crane, and his mates of the third class. Outside, there! Let me out!” ; : The blows he dealt the wooden par- ~ tition echoed through the cabin, but no one answered or came. Clif tried to force but it was barricaded outside and the effort resulted in failure. Suddenly -he heard a dull thumping overhead, and a muffled voice called down through a small ventilator: “Took through the deadlight.”’ Clif eagerly obeyed. What he saw wrung a groan of. impo- tent rage and despair ‘from him. Out in the middle of the river, plainly visible in the growing light, was the fa- miliar outlines of the old Monongahela. Her yards were alive with cadets unfurl- ing sail. A tug puffed alongside; upon the forecastle a score of white uniformed men and lads worked at the anchors. She was making ready to sail. “(Tn half an hour she will be standing down the bay on her way to the capes,’’ came in muffled words through the venti- lator. ‘‘In half an hour you will have lost her. You know what that means, Clifford Faraday. . Marked as a desetter, aud dropped from the rells in disgrace, IvG a nice ending to your ambition. Ha! hal’? Clif’s head drooped, and he leaned against the side of the little room, a prey to despair. Out in the river the Monongahela gath- ered headway and slowly passed from view beyond a distant point of land. She was fairly away on that summer cruise which Clif had looked forward to with such eager anticipation. [THE END. | A sequel’ to this story entitled ‘*Clif Faraday’s Escape; or, Foiling a Daring Piot,’’ by Ensign Clarke Fitch, U. N., will be found in No. 15 Army and Navy Weekly. Mark Mallory in Camp; Bw Lieut. Rrederick HAZING THE YEARLINGS, GQarrisom, U. Se Ae CHAPTER MARK MEETS THE SUPERINTENDENT. ‘*Yes, colonel, the iad is a hero, and To want to tell him so, too!) The speaker was a tall, otha gentleman, and he whacked his cane on the floor for emphasis as he spoke. ‘It was a splendid act, sir, splendid!’ he continiued. ‘‘And I want to thank Mark Mallory for it right here in your police.’ The man he addressed wore the uni- form of the United States Army; he was Colonel Harvey, the superintendent of the West Point Academy. ‘fT shall be most happy to have you to do so,’’ he replied, smiling at this visi- tor’s enthusiasm. ‘‘ You have certainly,’’ he added, ‘‘much to thank the young einai for.”? -_**Much!’? echoed the other. ‘‘Much! Why,: my dear sir, if that daughter of mine had been drowned I believe it would have killed me. She is my only child, - and, if I do say it myself, sir, the sweet- est girl that ever lived.” ‘*Wasn't it rather reckless, Judge,’’ in- quired the other, ‘‘for you to allow her to go sailing alone ?’’ ‘‘She is used to the boat,’’ responded Judge Fuller, ‘‘but no one on earth could have handied.it in such a gale. Ido not remember to have seen such a one in all the time I have lived up here.”’ ‘‘Nor I, either,’’ said the superinten- dent. “twas: so. dark. that. 1 could scarcely see across the parade ground. It is almost miraculous that Mallory should have succeeded in finding the boat as het is Cie) ‘Tell ine about it,”” put. ta the other. ‘fT have not been able to get a consistent account yet.’? ; ‘Cadet Captain Fischer told me,”’ re- sponded the colonel. ‘‘It seems that he and Mallory were just at the finish of a swiniming race when the storm broke. They caught sight of the carboat with your daughter in it coming down stream. The plebe turned, exhausted though he was, and headed forit. It got so dark then that those on shore could scarcely see; but the lad managed to catch the boat as it passed and climbed aboard. Just then the boom swung round and flung the girl into the water. Mallory _dived again at once——”’’ ‘Splendid!’ interrupted the other. ‘*And swam ashore with her,.”? 7 ‘“‘And then fainted, they say,’ tae. judge added. é ‘*Ves,’? said Colonel Harvey. ‘Dr. Grimes told me that it was one of the worst cases of exhaustion he had ever seen. But the lad is doing well now; he appears to be a very vigorous youngster— and I’ve an idea several of the yearlings found that out to their discomfort. The doctor told me that he thought he would be out this morning; only two days ADO, “That ds fortunate, » responded the. other. ‘‘The boy is too good to lose.’ “He appears to be a remarkable lad _ generally,’’ continued the superintendent. — ‘‘T have heard several tales about him. — Some of the stores came to me ‘unofficial. | ly,’ as we call it, and I don’t believe the accident was o = ARMY AND NAVY WEEKLY. Mallee: eld rest easily if he thought I knew of them. Young Fischer, who’sa . splendid man himself, I'll tell you, in- _ formed me yesterday that the plebe had _ earned his admission fee by bringing help to a wrecked train and telegraphing the account to a New York paper.”’ “T heard he had been in some trouble about demerits,’? put in Judge Fuller. (2 'In very serious trouble. 1 had to take a very radical step to get him out of it. Every once in awhile I find that some new cadet is being ‘skinned,’ as the cadets call it, demerited unfairly. I al- ways punish severely when I find that out. In this case, though, I had.no proof; Mallory would say nothing though he was within five demerits of expulsion. So I decided to end the whole matter by declaring a new tule. I’ve been con- templating for some time. I’ve found that new cadets get too many demerits during the first few weeks, before they Jleatn the rules thoroughly. So I’ve de- cided that in future no demerits shall be given for the first three weeks, and that . delinquencies shall be punished by extra. hours and other penalties. That let Mal- lory out of his trouble, you see.”’ ‘CA very clever scheme!’’ laugked the Gtner. ‘Very clever!’’ _ It may be of interest to notice that Colonel Harvey’ s rule has been in effect ever since. _ There was silence of a few moments after that, during which Judge Fuller tapped the floor with his cane reflectively. ‘‘Vou promised to let me see this Mal- lory,’’ he said, suddenly. ‘‘I’m ready now.’”? By way of answer, the superintendent rang a bell upon his desk. “Go over to the hospital,’? he said to the orderly who appeared in the door- way, ‘‘and find out if Cadet Mallory is able to be about. If he is, bring him here at once.” The boy disappeared and the colonel turned to his visitor and smiled. ‘Ts that satisfactory ?’? he inquired. ‘Very!’ responded the other. ‘‘And I only wish that you could send for my daughter to come over, too. I hope those surgeons are taking care of her. ~~ Ags much asif she were their own, _ answered the colonel. ‘‘1 cannot tell you Oe or how glad I wag to learn that she is : be- yond danger.’ Abas Go's mercy,’’ said the other = - with feeling. ‘‘She sould. not have ee a much narrower escape. ’ And after that neither said anything _ 2 until a knock at the door signalled the S arrival of the orderly. : ‘‘Come in,’? called the superintendent, and two figures stepped into the room. One was the messenger; and the other was a tall, finely-built lad with a face that was full of life and energy. It was a frank and pleasing face, with a wealth of curly brown hair surmounting it, and just at that moment a look of inquiry upon it. ‘“TMhis,? said the superintendent after a moment’s pause, ‘fis Cadet Mallory.’? © And Cadet Mallory it was. ‘The same old Mark, only paler and more weak just then. Judge Fuller rose and bowed gravely. “Sit down,’ said he, “you are mer strong enough to stand.”’ And after that no one said anything for fully a minute; the last speaker resumed his seat and fell to studying Mark’s face in silence. And Mark waited respectfully for him to begin. “My uame,”’ Biller.2) *‘Tudge Fuller?’’ inquired Mark. *‘Ves, And Grace Fuller is my daugh- — ter? After that there was silence again, broken suddenly by the excitable old gentleman’s dropping his cane, springing up from his chair, and striding over to- ward the lad. “‘T want to shake hands with you, sir! I want to shake hands with you!’ he cried, Mark was somewhat taken aback; but he arose and did as he was asked. ‘*And now,’’ said the judge, ‘‘I guess that’s all—sit down, sir, sit down; you.ve little strength left, I can see. I want to thank you, sir, for being the finest lad I’ve met for along time. And when my daughter gets well—which she will, thank the Lord—I’1] be very glad to have you call on us, or else to let us call on you—seeing that we live beyond cadet limits. And if ever you get into trouble, | here or anywhere, just come and see me said he, at last, 7% about it, and. Pil be much obliged to you. And that’ s all.” Having said which, the old gentleman stalked across the room once more, picked up his hat and cane, and made for the door. “Good-day, sir,’’ he said. around now and see my daughter. day, and God bless you.”’ After which the door was shut. It was several minutes after that before Colonel Harvey said anything. “You have made a powerful friend, my boy,’’ he remarked, smiling at the recol- lection of the old gentleman’s strange speech. ‘‘And you have brought honor upon the Academy. I am proud of you— proud to have you here.’’ ‘Thank you, sir,?’ said Mark, simply. “All | have to say besides that,’’ added the officer, ‘‘is to watch out that you stay. Don’t get any more demerits.”’ Mil try ot, sir.”? “Do. And I guess you had best go and join your cori pany now if the doctor thinks you’re able. Something is hap- pening to-day which always interests new cadets. I bid you good-morning, Mr. Mallory.’ And Mark went out of that office and crossed the street to Barracks feeling as if he were walking on air. “Tm going Good- CHAPIME IE THE SEVEN DEVILS IN SESSION. It is fun indeed to be a hero; to know that every one you pass is gazing at you with admiration. Or if one can not do anything heroic let him even do some- thing that will bring him ae), and then— ‘fAs he walks along the Boulevard, With an independent air,’’ he may be able to appreciate the afore- mentioned sensation. There was no boulevard at West Point, but the area in Barracks served the pur- pose, and Mark could not help noticing that as he went the yearlings were gazing enviously at him, and the plebes with un- disguised admiration. He hurried up- stairs to avoid that, and found that he had leaped, as the phrasehas it, from the oo : ARMY AND NAVY WEBKLY. frying pan to i. fire. For there were the other six of the ‘‘Seven Devils’’ ready to welcome him with a rush. The ‘‘Seven Devils’? was West Point’s . first and only secret society; it was com- posed of seven plebes who had sworn never to be hazed unavenged, and to die if necessary in wiping out such an insult. Mark was their leader, Head Devil; and ‘*B. B. J.?? was their motto, announcing the sevens’ resolution to be B. J. (West Point for fresh), and to be it with a vengeance. : ‘The other six had been in the throes of despair during the last few days owing to their gallant leader’s danger. Now they were wild with joy at his restoration to popularity, and resolved to give him a_ ‘‘rousing old welcome’’ to Barracks again. Mark’s entry into his room was greeted with a howl of delight from his faithful friend and room-mate, ‘‘Jeremiah Powers, son o? the Hon. Scrap Powers, sah, 0’ Hurricané Co., Texas.** And the otic. five were at his heels, each striving to get — hold of at least one of their leader’s hands. “‘Durnation!” . eried Texas. again! Durnation! Whoop!”’ ‘*Bless my soul, but I’m: glad!’ piped in the little round bubbly voice of ‘‘In- dian,’’ the fat boy, Joe Smith of Indian- apolis. ‘‘Bless my soul!’ “Sit down: Sit down,” ¢tred “Par. n’’ Stanard, the lanky Boston geolo- gist, reverently offering his. beloved vol- ume of Dana’s geology for a cushion. ‘*Sit down and let us look at you.”’ ‘*Yes, b’gee!’’ chimed in Alan Dewey, reconteur of the party. “Yes, b gee, leis look at you. Reminds me of a story I once heard, b’gee—pshaw, what’s the use of trying to tell a good story with everybody trying to shout at once.”’ The excitement subsided after some five minutes more, and Mark was glad of it. With the true modesty natural to all ~ high minds, he felt that he would a great deal rather rescue a girl than be praised “Back and made generally uncomfortable for it. we So he shut his followers up as quickly as he could, which was not very quickly, for they had lots.to say.: ‘‘How is the girl?’’ inquired Dewey, ] . perceiving at last that Mark really meant _ 4 eas P % and marries her in ARMY AND NAVY WEEKLY. what he said, and so, hastening to turn the conversation. ‘She's doing very well now,’’ said Mark. - *CAlways your luck!’ growled Texas. “She’s beautiful, and her father’s a judge and got lots of money. Bet he runs off a week. Qh, say, Mark, but you’re lucky! You just ought fo hear the plebes talk about you. Durnation, I can’t tell you how proud I am, man! Why——”’ ‘Right back at it again!’’ interrupted Mark, laughing. ‘‘Right back again! Didnt 1 tell you to drop it? I know what P11 do——”’ Here Mark arose from his seat. ‘‘T hereby declare this a business meet- ine of the Seven Devils, and as chairman I call the meeting to order.’’ ‘What for?’’ cried the crowd. ‘“To consider plans for hazing,’’ an- swered Mark. ‘‘J——”? “‘Durnation!’’ roared Texas, wildly ex- cited in an instant. ‘‘Goin’ to haze somebody? Whoop!”’ : And Mark laughed silently to himself. “T knew I’d make you drop that rescue business,’’ he said. ‘‘And Mr. Powers, you will have the goodness to come to order and not to address the meeting until you are granted the floor. It is my pur- pose, if you will allow me to say a few words to the society—ahem !”’ . Mark said this with stern and pompous -dienity and Texas subsided so suddenly that the rest could scarcely keep from laughing. “But, seriously now, fellows,’’ he said, (aiter a2 moment’s. silence. ‘‘Let’s leave all the past behind and consider what’s © before us. Say. Having been thus enjoined, the meet- ing did come to order. The members set- ' tled themselves “comfortably abont the I really have something ‘to room as if expecting a long oration, and » Mae continued, after a moment’s thought. ‘"We really ought to make up-our mind beforehand as to just exactly what we're going to do. I suppose you all know what’s going to happen to-day.”’ ‘‘Durnation, no!’’ cried the impulsive Texas. ‘*I don’t. : What is it, anyhow ?” about it. & 639 “We're to move to camp this after- : Joon,” responded Mark. “T know; but what’s ies got to do with it?” “Tots. Several of the cadets ave told me that there’s always more hazing done on that one day than on all the rest put together. You see, we leave Barracks and go up to live with the whole corps at the sumimer camp. And that night the ge ings always raise Cain with the plebes.”’ “‘Durnation!’’ muttered Texas, rubbing his hands gleefully. “Durnation! pr “Bully, b’gee!’’? chimed in Dewey, no less pleased with the prospect. ‘So to-night is’ the decisive migit, continued Mark. ‘‘And I leave it for the majority to decide just what we’ll do What do you say ?’’ Mark relapsed into silence, and there was a moment’s poe ended Dy the to his feet. inevitable Dana upon the floor, then glanced about him with a pompous air and folded his long, bony arms. ‘‘Ahem!”’ he said, and then began. * ‘“‘Gentlemen! I rise—ahem!—to put the case to you as I see it; I tse to emulate the example of the immortal Patrick Henry—to declare for liberty or death! Yea, by Zeus, or death!” “Bully, b’gee!” chimed in Dewey, slapping his knee in approval and wink- ing merrily at the crowd from behind the Parson’s back. ‘‘Gentlemen!’’ continued the Parson. ‘(Once before we met in this same room and we did then make known our declara- tion of Independence to the world. But there is one thing we have not yet done, and that we must do! Yea, by Zeus! I am a Bostonian—I may have told you that before—and 1 am proud of the deeds of my forefathers. They fought a Bunker Hill; and, gentlemen, we have that yet to do. y (“Bet cher life, b’ gee!” cried Dewey, as the Parson gravely took his seat. Then the former arose and continued the dis- eussion. ‘‘Not much of a hand for making a speech,’’ he said, ‘‘as the deat mute .remarked when he lost three fingers; but I’ve got something to say, and, b’gee, I’m going to say it. ‘To- night is the critical night and if we are 4 The Parson first laid his - ARMY: AND: NAVY WEEKLY. Sacer and naa now we'll on it for the whole summer. And I say we don’t, a gee, and that’s all!” ~ With which brief, but ned and Aric ste summary of the situation, Alan sat down and. Texas clapped his heels together and gave -vent to 4 ‘*Durnation!’’ of approval. — ‘‘Anybody else got anything to say ?”’ inquired Mark. ‘fYes, bah Jove! know.”’ This came from Mr. Chauncey Van Rensalaer Mount-Bonsall of New York, the aristocrat of the party. Chauncey wore a high collar and a London accent; he was by this time playfully known as ‘the man with a tutor and a hyphen,’’ both of which luxuries it had been found he possessed. But Chauncey was no fool for all his mannerisms. ‘“‘Aw—yes,’’ said he, ‘‘I have some- thing to say, ye know. Those deuced yearlings will haze us more than any other plebes in the place. Beastly word, that, by the way. I hate to be called a plebe, ye know. There is blue blood in our family, bah Jove, and I’ll guarantee there isn’t one yearling in the place can show better. Why, my grandfather——”’ wa ocall: the seutleman to order,”) laughed Mark. ‘‘Hazing’s the business on hand. Hazing, and not h’ancestors.”’ ‘IT know,’’ expostulated Chauncey, put ft hate to, be called a plebe, ye know. AsI was going to say, however, they’ll haze us most. Mark has—aw— fooled them a dozen times, bah Jove! ‘Texas chastised four of them. Parson, I’m told, chased half a dozen once. My friend Indian here got so deuced mad the other day that he nearly killed’oné, don’t ye know. Dewey’s worse, and as for me and my friend Sleepy here—aw—bah Jove !——.”’ ‘You did better than all of us!’ put I have, don’t ye in Mark, recollecting how half a dozen yearlings had chased that aristocratic and acrobatic Master Chauncey about the woods in a vain attempt to subdue him. Chauncey paused a moment to make a remark about ‘‘those deuced drills, ye know, which kept a fellah from ever having a clean collah, bah Jove!’’ And then he continued. ‘“‘T just wanted to say, ye know, that that! AB gee” by the hand, we were-selected for the azing and that we might as well do something od desperate at once, bah Jove! that’s what — Tthink, and so does my friend Ory Don’ t you, Sleepy ?”’ “J ain’t a-thinkin’ abaout it “Mal? came a voice from the bed where Methu- ee salem Zebediah Chilvers, the farmer, lay | stretched out. ‘‘Sleepy’s too tired,’’? laughed Mark. ‘It seems to be the unanimous opinion of the crowd,’® he continued, after a mo- ment’s pause, ‘‘that we might just as well be bold. In other words, that we have no hazing.”’ BD wee Ch erred Dewey, springing to his feet, excitedly. No, sir d = ‘“ What ‘did you say, then?” inquired : Mark. “T said that we shouldn’t let them haze a I never a Bet cher life, b’geet [2 | us, b’gee, and: [meant ity tea.” said no hazing! was just this moment going to make the motion that we carry the war into the enemy’s country, that we upset West Point traditions for once and forever, and with a bang, too. In other words,’ here: the excitable youngster paused, so that his momentous idea might have due weight. haze the yearlings!”’ ‘There was an awed silence for a few moments to give that terrifically original | proposition a chance to settlein the minds of the amazed ‘‘devils.”’ . Texas was the first to act and he leaped across the room at a bound and ome es ‘‘Durnation!’? he roared. “Whoop! a Bully, bigecl” And in half a minute more the seven, including the timid Indian, had registered oS a solemn vow to do deeds of valor that would ‘‘make them durnation ole cadets oe look cross-eyed,’’ as Texas put it. oo They were gene to haze the ea 7 CHAPTER iT. THE MOVE INTO CAMP. The new cadets, or co at Wee S Point, are housed in barracks for two ~- weeks after their admission. During this time ‘‘squad drill” is the daily rule, and oe the strangers learn to march, and st and eee ea a new soldier has t ‘B’ gee, I didn’t say ‘‘In other words, b’gee, that we - eg re er ee = —] bd co a sa Ee oa = 7, A 7, < 7 = lem < SOME PLEBES WERE COMPELLED TO ROW WITH BROOMS AS OARS, WHILST OTHERS WERE MADE TO ASSUME ALL SORTS OF POSITIONS (page 645), ARMY AND NAVY WEEKLY, aoe with the exception of the manual ofarms. Af.er that they are adjudged fit to associate with the older cadets, and are matched up to ‘‘Camp McPherson.”’ This usually takes place about the first day of July. Our friends, the seven, had been meas- ured for uniforms along with the rest of the plebe company duting their first days in barracks. ‘The fatigue uniforms had been given out that morning, to the great excitement of everybody, and now ‘‘cit?’ clothing, with all its fantastic variety of hats and coats of all colors, was stowed saWay in trunks ‘‘for good,’’? and the plebes costumed uniformly in sombre suits of gray, with short jackets and only a black seam down the trousers for orna- ment. Full dress uniforms, such as the old cadets up at camp were wearing, were yet things of the future. That morning also the plebes had been ‘fsized’’ for companies. Of ‘‘companies’’ there are four, into which the battalion of some three hun- dred cadets is divided, ‘‘for purposes of instruction in infantry tactics, and in military police and discipline.’’ (For pur- poses of ‘‘academic instruction”’ they are of course divided into the four classes: First, Second, Third, or ‘‘yearlings,’’ and Fourth, the “plebes?”). aforementioned are under the command of army officers, called “‘tacs’’ by the Gacets-i.ie., tactical officers. . “These latter report to the ‘‘Commandant of Cadets,’’ who is, next to the superinten- dent, the highest ranking officer on the _ post. The companies are designated A, B, C ang DA and I are flank companies, and to them the tallest cadets are as- sisned. B. and C. are centre companies. ‘Mark and Texas, and also the Parson and Sleepy, all of whom were above the average height, found themselves in A: aie remainder of the Seven Devils man- aged to land in B; and the whole plebe class was ordered to pack up and he ready to move immediately after dinner. The cadets are allowed to take only certain articles to camp; the rest, together with the cit’s, clothing, was stored in trunks and put away in the trunk room. Right here at the start there was trouble for the members of our organiza- The sens tion, “Texas, it ay be pene bee, ‘tad _a choice assortment of guns of all calibre, sixteen in number. ‘These he had stored up the chimney of his room for safety. (The chimney is a favorite place of con- cealment for contraband articles at West Point). But there was no such place of — concealment in camp; and no way of get- ting the guns there anyhow. ‘There are no pockets in the cadets’ uniforms except a stnall one for a watch. Money they are not allowed to carry, and their handker- chiefs are tucked in the breasts of their coats. It was a difficult situation, for Texas, with true Texan cautiousness, vowed he’d never leave his guns behind. ‘‘Why, look a yere, man,’’ he cried. ‘‘T tell you, t’ain’t safe now fo’ a feller to go up thar ’thout anything to defend You kain’t tell what may hap- himself. pens? The Parson was in asimilar quandary. His chimney contained a various assort- ment of chemicals, together with sundry geological specimens, including that now world-famous cyathophylloid coral which had been discovered ‘‘in a sandstone of tertiary origin.’’ And the Parson vowed that either that cyathophylloid went to camp or he stayed in barracks—yea, by Zeus! There was no use arguing with them; Mark tried itin vain. ‘Texas was obdurate and talked of holding up the crowd that dared to take those guns away; and the Parson said that he had-kept a return ticket to Boston, his native town, a glori- ous city where science was encouraged and not repressed. That was the state of affairs through dinner, and up to the moment when the cry, ‘‘New cadets turn out!’? came from the area. By that time Texas had tied his guns up in one of his shirts, and the Parson had variously distributed his fos- sils about his body until he was one bundle of lumps. ‘Tf you people will congregate closely about me,’’ he explained, ‘‘I apprehend that the state of affairs will not be ob- served”? It was a curious assembly that ‘‘turned out’’—a mass of bundles, brooms and buckets, with a few staggering plebes underneath. They marched up to camp ARMY AND NAVY WEEKLY. that way, too, and it was with audible sighs of relief that they dropped their burdens at the end. A word of description of ‘‘Camp Mc- _Pherson’’ may be of interest to those who have never visited West Point. It is important that the reader should be familiar with its appearance, for many of Mark’s adventures were destined to hap- pen there—some of them this very same night. The camp ig half a mile or so from Barracks, just beyond the Cavalry Plain and very close to old Fort Clinton, the scene of Mark’s battle with Billy Wil- -liams, the yearling’s champion. The site isa pretty one. The white tents standing out against the green of the shade trees and the parapet of the fort. The tents are arranged in four ‘‘com- pany streets’? and are about five feet apart. The tents have wooden platforms for floors and are large enough fox four cadets each. A long wooden box painted green serves as the ‘‘locker’’—it has no lock or key—and a wooden rod near the ridge pole serves as a wardrobe. And that is the sum total of the furniture. The plebes made their way up the company streets and the cadet-officers in charge, under the supervision of the ftaes,) assigned them fo. their. tents. Fortunately, plebes are allowed to select their own tent mates; it may readily be believed the four devils of A ‘company went together. By good fortune the three remaining in B company, as was learned later, found one whole tent Jeft over and so were spared the nuisance of a stranger in their midst—a fact which was especial- ly gratifying to the exclusive Master _ Chauncey. Having been assigned to their tents, the plebes were set to work under the brief instructions of a cadet corporal at the task of arranging their household effects. This is done with mathematical exactness. ‘There is a place for every- thing—and a penalty for not keeping it there. Blankets, comforters, pillows, etc., go in a pile at one corner. A looking glass hangs on the front tent pole; a water bucket is deposited on the front edge of the platform; candle sticks, candles, cleaning materials, etc., are kept in a cylindrical tin box at the foot of the - 643 rear tent pole; and so on it goes, through” a hundred items or so, ‘There are proba- bly no more uniform things in all nature than the cadet ‘tents: in. camp. proverbial peas are not to be compared with them. The amount of fear and trembling »which was caused to those four friends of ours in acertain A company tent by the contraband goods of Texas and the Par- son is difficult to imagine. The cadet — corporal, lynx-eyed and vigilant, scarcely gave them a chance to hide anything. It was only by Mark’s interposing his body before his friends that they managed to slide their precious cargoes in under the blankets, a temporary hiding place. And even when the articles were thus safely hidden, what must that officious yearling do but march over and rear- range the pile accurately, almost touch- ing one of the revolvers, and making the four tremble and quake in their boots. They managed the task without discov- ery, however, and went on with their work. And by the first drum beat for dress parade that afternoon, everything was done up in spick and span order, to the eye at any rate. Dress parade was a formality in which the plebes took no part, but that of inter- ested spectators. ‘They huddled together shyly in their newly occupied ‘‘plebe hotels’? and watched the yearlings, all in spotless snowy uniforms, ‘‘fall in’’ on the company street outside. The yearlings were wild with delight and anticipation at having the strangers right among them at last, and they manifested great inter- est in the plebes, their dwellings, and in fact in everything about. them. Advice and criticism, and all kinds of guying that can be imagined, were poured upon the trembling lads’ heads; and this con- tinued in a volley until the second drum changed the merry crowd into a silent and motionless line of soldiers. Mark could scarcely keep his excitable friend Texas from sallying out then and there to attack some of the more active members of this hilarious crowd. It was evident that, while no plebe escaped en- tirely, there was no plebe hotel in A com- pany so much observed as their own. For the three B. J.-est plebes in the whole plebe class were known to be er 644 - housed therein. Cadet Mallory, ‘‘pro- fessional hero,’? was urged in all serious- ness to come out and rescue somebody on the spot, which oft repeated request, together with other merry chaffing he bore with a good-natured smile. Cadet Stanard was plagued with geological ques- tions galore, among which the ‘‘Cyatho- phylloid”’? occupied a prominent place. Cadet Powers was dared to come out and ‘ Jasso a stray ‘‘tac,’? whose blue-uni- formed figure was visible out on the pa- rade ground. And Mr. Chelvers found the state of ‘‘craps’? a point of great solicitude to all. It was all stopped by the drum as_ has been mentioned; the company wheeled by fours and marched dowh the street, leaving the plebes to an hour of test. But oh! those same yearlings were think- ing. ‘‘Oh, won’t we just soak ’em to- night !”’ Ard, strarige to say, the same thought was in the minds of seven particular plebes that stayed behind. For Mark Mallory had a plot by this time. CHAPTER IV. CRiR St NIGH Di) Dress parade leaves but a few moments for supper, with no chance for ‘‘devil- ing.’? But when the batallion marched back from that meal and broke ranks, when the dusk of evening was coming on to make an effective screen, then was the time, thought the cadets. And so thought the plebes, too, as they came up the road afew minutes later, trembling with an- ticipation, most of them, and looking very solemn and sombre in their dusky fatigue uniforms. ‘Rirst night of plebe camp,’’ says a well-known military writer, ‘‘isa thing not soon to be forgotten, even in these © days when pitchy darkness no longer sur- rounds the pranks of the yearlings, and when official vigilance and protection have replaced what seemed to be tacit encour- agetent and consent. ‘Then (some years ago) it was no un- common thing for a new cadet to be dragged out—‘yanked’—and slid around cainp on his dust-covered bianket twenty times a night, dumped into Fort Clinton ditch, tossed in a ten fly, half smothered in the folds of his canvas home, ridden ARMY AND NAVY WEEKLY. at on atent pole or ina rickety wheelbar- oe row, smoked out by some vile, slow- burning pyrotechnic compound, robbed of rest and sleep at the very least after he had been alternately drilled and worked all the live-long day.” In Mark’s time the effort to putastop | to the abuses mentioned had just been be- gun. Army officers had been put on duty at night; gas lamps had been placed along the sentry posts—precautions which are doubled nowadays, and with the risk of expulsion added besides. They have dcne away with the worst forms of hazing if not with the spirit. With all that, however, it may as well be mentioned that a few months ago two plebes resigned from the Academy, giv- ing as their reason the fact that they had been ‘‘brutally hazed.”’ The yearlings ‘‘had it in’’ for our four friends of company A that evening. In fact, scarcely had the plebes scattered to their tents when that particular plebe hotel was surrounded. ‘The cadets had it all arranged beforehand, just what’ was to happen, and they expected to have no end of fun about it. ‘“Parson Stanard’’ was to be serenaded “first: the crowd meant to surround’ him and ‘‘invite’’? him to read some learned extracts from his beloved Dana. (Plebes always obey such ‘‘requests,’’? and are thus ‘‘induced’’ to perform all sorts of monkey shines for the yearlings’ edifica- tion.) The Parson was to recount some of the nobler deeds of Boston’s heroes, in- cluding himself; he was to display his / learning by answering questions on ven? conceivable subject; he was to define and spella list of the most outlandish words in every language known to the angels. Texas was to show his skill and technique in hurling an imaginary lasso and firing an imaginary revolver from an imaginary galloping horse. He was to tell of the geography, topography, cli- mate and resources of the Lone Star State; he was to recount the exploits of his‘tdad,’’? “the Hon. Scrap Power. sah, o’ Hurricane Co.,’’ and his uncle, the new senator-elect. Mark was to give rules for rescuing damsels, saving ex- — presses and ferry boats, ete. And Mr. Methusalem Zebediah Chilvers of Kansas ARMY AND NAVY WEEKLY. was to state his favorite method of raising three-legged chickens and three-foot whiskers. That was the delicious prugramme as finally agreed upon by the yearlings. And there was only one drawback met in the execution of it. The four plebes could not be found! They weren’t in their tent; they weren’t in camp! Preposterous! The yearlings hunted, scarcely able to believe their eyes. The plebes, of course, hada perfect right to take a walk after supper if they chose. But the very idea of dar- ing todoiton the first night in camp, when they knew that the yearlings would visit them and expect to be entertained! It was an unheard-of thing to do; but it was just what one would have expected of those B. J. beasts, so the yearlings grumbled, as they went off to other tents to engage other plebes in conversation and controversy. But where were the four? No place in particular. They had simply joined the other three and had the impudence to disappear in the woods for a stroll until tattoo. They had come to the conclusion that it was better to do that than to stay and. be ‘‘guyed,’’ as they most certainly would be if they refused their tormentors’ requests. And Mark had overruled - Texas’ vehement offer to stay and ‘‘do up the hull durnation crowd,’’ deciding that the cover of the night would be favor- able to the sevens’ hazing, and that un- til then they should make themselves scarce. In the meantime there was high old sport in Camp McPherson. In response to the requests of the merry yearlings, some plebes were sitting out on the com- pany streets and rowing desperate races at a 34-to-the-minute stroke with brooms for oars and air for water some were play- ing imaginary hand organs while others sang songs to the tunes; some ‘‘beasts’’ were imitating every imaginable animal in areal ‘‘menagerie,’? and some were relating their personal history while try- ing to stand on their heads. All this kind of hazing is good-natured and hurts no one physically, however much the loss of dignity may turment some sensitive souls, It is the only kind of hazing that remains to any great ex- tent nowadays. In the midst of such hilarity time passes very rapidly—to the yearlings, anyway. In almost no time tattoo had sounded; and then the companies lined up for the evening roll call, the seven dropping into line as silently as they had - stolen off, deigning a word to no one in explanation of their strange conduct. “That's. what I eall a pretty 3 i trick !’’ growled Cadet Harris, one of the more active hazers of his, the yearling, class. ‘‘Bull’’? Harris had an especial grudge against Mark, having been out- witted by the latter quite fyequently and having sworn eternal enmity in conse- quence. Bull had been looking forward with «reat glee to that evening’s chance to ridicule Mark, with all his classmates to back him; it wasa lost chance now, and Bull was angry in consequence. Bull’s cronies agreed with him as to the ‘‘B. J.-ness’’ of that trick. And they, along with a good many others, too, agreed that the trick ought not to be al- lowed to succeed. ‘‘We ought to haze him ten times as hard to-night to make up for it!’? was the verdict. And so it happened that the seven, by their action, brought down upon their heads all the hazing that was done after taps. This hazing, too, was by far the least pleasant, for it was attended to only © by the more reckless members of the class, members who could not satisfy their taste for torture by making a help- less plebe sing songs, but must needs tumble him out of bed and ride him on a rail at midnight besides. The fact, however, that all such mem- | bers of the yearling class had decided to concentrate their torments upon him did not worry Mark in the least. In fact that was just what Mark had expected and prepared for. And so there was destined to be fun that night. ‘‘Now go to your tents, make down your bedding just as you were taught at barracks; do not remove your undercloth- ing; hang up your uniforms where each man can get his own in an instant; put your shoes and caps where yon can get them in the dark if need be; turn in and 65 Ge oe oo a "ARMY AND NAVY ‘WEEKLY. plow your ae out, before the drum strikes ‘taps,’ at ten. ‘After that, not a sound! Get to sleep as soon as you can - and be ready to form here at reveille.’? So spoke Cadet Corporal Jasper; and then at the added command, ‘‘Break tanks, march !’’ the plebe company scat- tered, and with many a sigh of teliet vanished as individuals in the various tents. The corporal’s last onde: “be ready to form here at reveille,’? is a source of much wortiment to a plebe. But the one before it, ‘‘get to sleep as soon as you can,’? is obeyed with the alacrity born of hours of drill and marching. Long before tattoo, which is the signal for ‘‘lizhts out,’? ‘the majority of the members On the class were already dreaming. Perhaps they were not resting very easily, for most of them had a vague idea that there tnight be trouble that night; but they knew that lying awake would not stop it, and they were all too sleepy anyway. The last closing ceremony of a West Point day in camp is the watchful ‘‘tacs”’ inspection One of these officers goes the rounds with a dark lantern, flashing it into every tent and making sure that the four occupants are really in’ bedi (The ‘hed’? consists of a board floor, and blankets). Having attended to this duty, the tac likewise retires and Camp Mc- Pherson sinks into the slumbers of the night. After that until five the next morning there is no one awake but the tireless sen- tries. A word about these.. The camp is a military one and is never without guard from the moment the tents are stretched until the 29th of August, when the snowy canvas comes to the ground once more. ‘The ‘‘guard tent’? is at the west- ern end of the camp, and is under es charge of the ‘‘corporal of the guard,”’ Sod: The sentries are cadets, too, snd there are five of them, numbered—sentry No. rand so on. The ceremony each motning at which these sentries go on duty is “called ‘Conard-mounting.’? And during the next ‘twenty- -four hours these sentrys are on duty two hours in every six—two hours on. and then four off, imaking eight in the twenty-four. ‘These sentries being cadets themselves (and yearlings at present) hazing is not so difficult as it might seem. his beat without his seeing them; it is only when the sentry is not in the plot that the thing is dangerous. The ‘‘tac’’—Lieut. Allen was his name —had made his rounds for the night, finding plebes and yearlings, too, all sleep- ing soundly, or apparently so. And after that there was nothing moving but the tramping sentinels, and the shadows of the trees in the moonlight as they fell on. the shining tents. That is, there was nothing moving that was visible. The yearlings, plenty of them, were wide awake in their tents and preparing for their onslaught upon the sleeping plebes. Sleeping? Perhaps, but certainly not all of them. Some of those plebes were as wide awake as the yearlings, and they were engaged in an occupation that would have taken the yearlings considerably by surprise if they had known it. There were seven of them in two tents, tents that were back to back and close together, one being in Company A street and one in B; They were very quiet about their vou for it was a risky business. Discovery would have meant thesentry’s yelling for the corporal of the guard; meant that Lieutenant Allen would have leaped into his trousers and been out of his tent at the corporal’s heels; meant a strict investi- gation, discovery, court-martial and dis- — missal. It was allright for yearlings to be | out at night; but plebes—never! / It grew riskier still as a few minutes passed, for one of the B. J. beasts had the temerity to come out of his tent. He came very cautiously, it was true, worm- ing his way along the ground silently, in true Indian—or Texas style. For Texas it was, that adventurous youth having vowed and declared that;if he were not allowed to attend to this particular piece of mischief he would go out and hold up asentry instead, the other three occu- pants were peering under the tent folds watching him anxiously as he crawled along. As a fact, Texas’ peril was not as great as was supposed, for the sentries had no means to telling if he wasa yearling or — not. The idea of a plebe’s daring to break — rules would not have oecurred to them ‘A sentry can easily arrange to have parties cross ARMY AND NAVY WEEKLY. anyhow. Be that as it may, at any rate nobody interrupted the Seven Devils’ plans. Cadet Powers made his way across the ‘“‘street,’? deposited his burden, a glistening steel revolver some two feet long. And then he stole back and the - crowd lay still in their tents and watched and waited. They had not long to dothat. Texas barely had time to crawl under the can- _vas and to mutter to his friends (for the hundredth time): ‘“‘Didn’t I tell ye them air guns ’ud come in handy ?”? At that very moment a sound of muffled Jaughter warned them that the moment had arrived. ‘‘Tust in time!’’ whispered Mark, seiz- ing his friend by the hand and at the same time giving vent to a subdued ehuckle. ‘‘Just in time. S-sh!?? - The four, who lay side by side under the tent, could hear each others hearts thumping then. “Will it work? Will it. work >’? was the thought in tlie mind of every one of them. reese: coneeees Cee) CHAPTER V. WHAT HAPPENED TO THE HAZERS. The yearlings were a merry party, about ten of them, and they were out for fun and all the fun that could be had. ‘They were going to make it hot for cer- tain B. J. plebes, and they meant to lose no time about it, either. They crept up _ the company street, laughing and talking in whispers, for fear they should arouse the tac. The sentries they did not care about, of course, for the sentries were pledged to ‘‘look the other way.”’ It was decided that the first thing to be done to those B. J. plebes was to ‘‘yank ’em.’? Yanking isa West Point inven- tion. It means that the victim finds his blanket seized by one corner and torn from under him, hurling him to the _ ground. Many a plebe’s nightmares are punctuated with just such periods as these. It seems that a ‘‘yanking’’ was just what the four had prepared for. They had prepared for it by huddling up in one corner and rigging dummies to place du their beds. The dummies consisted of wash basins, buckets, etc., and it was calculated that when these dummies were : | yanked they would be far from dumb. The yearlings stole up cautiously ; they did not know they were watched. "a The. : breathless plebes saw their shadows on the tent walls, and knew just what was going on. They saw the figures line up at the back; they saw half a dozen pairs of hands gently raise the canvas, and get a : good firm grip on the blankets. ‘Then came a subdued ‘‘Now!’’ and then—well, things began to happen after that! =|. The yearlings ‘‘yanked’”’? with all the power of their arms. The blankets gave way, and the result was a_ perfectly amazing clatter and crash. Have you ever heard half a dozen able-bodied dish- washers working at once? Naturally the wildest panic resulted among the attacking party. They did not know what they had done, but they did know that they had done something des- perate, and that they wished they hadn’t. As the sound broke out on the still night air they turned in alarm and made a wild dash for their tents. T'wo of them raced down the company street at top speed; both of them sudden- lv struck an unexpected obstruction and were sent flying through the air. It was a string; and at one end of it was the Texas 44 calibre. The result was a bang that woke the camp witha jump. And then there was fun for fair. The sentries knew then that everyone was awake, including the ‘‘tac,’? and that they might just as well, therefore, ‘give the alarm.’’ All five of them accordingly set up a wild shout for the corporal of the guard. This brought the young off- cer and Lieutenant Allen on the scene in no time. Also it brought from the land of dreams every cadet in the corps who had managed to sleep through the former racket. And nearly all of them rushed to their tent doors wondering what would happen next. The seven meanwhile had been work- ing like beavers. The instant the gun had gone off Texas, who held the string, had yanked it in and stowed it away with his other weapons, shaking with lanohter in the meanwhile. The others had gone. to work .with a will; pitcher, basin, bucket, everything, had been hastily set { ARMY AND NAVY WEEKLY. in place; blankets had been relaid; and everything, in short, was put in order again, so that by the time that Lieuten- ant Allen got round to their tent (the officer had seized his lantern and set out -. ona hasty round to discover the jokers) he found four ‘‘scared”’ plebes, sitting up in beds, sleepily rubbing their eyes, and inquiring in anxiety: ‘‘What on earth’s the matter ?”’ He didn’t tell them, for he hadn’t the remotest idea himself. And nobody told him; the yearlings couldn’t have if they had wanted to. Of course the lieutenant didn’t care to stay awake all night, fruitlessly asking questions; so he went to bed. ‘The’ sen- tries resumed their march, wondering meanwhile what on earth had led their class-mates to make so much rumpus, and speculating as to whether it could possibly be true, what one cadet had suggested— that that wild and woolly Texan had tried to shoot some one who had hazed him. The rest of the cadets dropped off to steep. And soon everybody was quiet again—that is, except the Seven Devils. The Seven Devils had only just begun. They lay and waited until things were still, and then Mark gave the order, and the crowd rose as one man and stole soft- ly out into the street. This included even the trembling Indian, who was mutter- ing ‘‘Bless my soul!’’ at a great rate. “T guess they’re all asleep now,”’ whispered Mark. ‘What are you going to do?”’ inquired Indian. ws “‘Vank ’em,’’ responded Mark briefly. Conie ahead.’’ Mark had seen that the yearlings came up boldly, which told hi.n at once that the sentries were ‘‘fixed,’’? and he calcu- lated that just at the moment the moon being clouded, the sentries would not know yearlings from plebes. The only danger was that Lieutenant Allen might still be awake. It wasrisky, but then—— ‘(Do you see Bull Harris’ tent??? Mark whispered. ‘‘Itis the sixth from here. He and the Baby, with Vance and Murray ate in there. Now, then.’’ With trembling hearts the crowd crept 9 down the street; this was their first ven- ture as law-breakers. They stole up be- — hind the tent just as the yearlings had; they reached under the canvas and seized the blankets. And then came a sudden haul—and confusion and muttered oaths from the inside, which told them that no | dummies had been yanked this time. : The yearlings sprang up in wrath and © gazed out; retreating footsteps and | muffled laughter were all that remained, - and they went back to bed in disgust. The plebes went too, in high glee—— ‘*And now,’’ said Mark. might as well go to sleep.”’ ‘*T guess we One does not like to leave this story without having a word to say about what the corps thought of the whole thing next morning. The ‘‘tac.,’’ of course, re- ported to his superior the night’s alarm— ‘‘cause unknown,’’ and that was the end of the matter officially. But the yearlings —phew! | The class compared notes right after reveille; and no one talked about any thing else for the rest of that day. The cause of the rumpus made by the blankets was soon guessed; the two who had set off the gun were questioned, and that problem soon worked out also that alone was bad enough! But the amaze- ment when Bull and his tentmates turned up and declared that they—yearlings !— had been yanked, yes yanked, and by some measly plebes at that, there is no possibility of describing the indignation. Why it meant that the class had been | defied, that West Point had been over- turned, that the world was coming to an end, and—what more could it mean pos- sibly ? And through all the excitement the Seven Devils just looked at each other— © and winked: °B.: Be J.P? they saids\) ) \ust. sagem us!” [THE END. | The next West Point novelette will be entitled ‘‘A West Point Comedy; or, Mark Mallory’s Practical Joke,’’ by Lieu- tenant Frederick Garrison, U. S. A. : DUMARESQUE’S DIAMOND. BY ROBERT RICHARDSON. aan WT OTH LE RO au i is HUH PHT Dao | rea HL TSR eon TRE RO HLT Ht SH LAM ATT (f He ‘© HIS ARM WAS RAISED TO STRIKE ’’ (page 652). Cyril Dumaresque and I, George For- tune, sat on the quarterdeck of the mail steamer Marseilles, at Colombo. The vessel had not dropped anchor for more than five minutes when her decks were swarmed over by the usual horde of native peddlars, while all around her the catamarans and other craft crowded as thick as hiving bees. It was half an hour from breakfast yet, so the passengers, to many of whom our present environment was a complete novelty, had time for negotiating, if they so pleased, with the jabbering throng of gem and curio merchants. ‘Two of these attached themselves more particularly to Dumaresque and myself, but only one of the pair was a native. His companion was a European, a rather slight but wiry man, with a swarthy complexion, a folbicd bine ron ond au teen _and restless eyes. The Cingalee was not distinguished in any marked way from thousands of his race, at least, not to an unaccustonied eye. Nevertheless he was not a favorable specimen of the Ceylon native, for although his features were regular, and even handsome, his expres- sion was a disagreeable blend of craft and bravado. | The two men were evidently partners, and were extremely anxious that my chum and I should conclude a bargain with them for some one of their handsome jewels, which were chiefly pearls, ame- thysts and cat’s eyes, set in rings, or unset, But we had been forewarned that if we wished to make any purchases in this direction at all at Colombo, it was better to wait till we got on shore, and ‘go to one of the regular and accredited merchants. ‘Sahib buy fine stone, sar,’’ for the hundredth time repeated the Cingalee in his insinuating, smooth voice. ‘‘No pay now, if sahibs no got money enough. Take stone and give us card, and pay when you get to England. All light. No fear’ His companion, who was dressed like a European, wearing a cumberbund round his waist, spoke a curious mixed accent that led me to think him a Spaniard who had long lived among natives of India. He corroborated his partner’s assurance that there was no necessity to pay cash down for any stone we might purchase. But neither Cyril nor I was to be tempted. For myself, in fact, the price of the finer gems put their purchase out of the ques- tion. Then the Cingalee changed his tactics. Throughout the colloquy the man’s eyes had “glanced from our faces, or from his own tray of stones to Cyril’s left hand, upon which sparkled a diamond ting, the single jewel in which was of unusual size and Justre. The ring had been a parting gift to my friend from his mother, who had died a year previously, and Cyril wore it con- stantly. My chum was the son of rich parents, and both he and I were on our way home to study law. Every time the jewel peddlar’s eyes rested on Cyril’s diamond they glittered with an added light, and presently I saw the same expression come into the Span- iard’s face. If ever I saw overmastering greed in any eyes it was in those of this curiously-assorted pair. At length the Cingalee said: ‘“T hat fine diamond, sahib.”’ Cyril assented. “How much sahib pay for that stone ?”? ‘I don’t know the exact sum.”’ ‘How much you take for him ?’’ ‘‘Pve no intention of selling it.’’ ‘“We give you two hundred and twenty- five dollars for it. What you say? We give you it right down here.”’ ‘‘I believe the ring cost more than that.” ‘‘More? Well, we give you two hun- dred and fifty dollars. What say? No can give more. You no get more in Syd- ney or New York.”’ But Cyril made it clear that ine ring was not for sale, and, presently, the breakfast bell ringing, we rose and went below, leaving the two jewel merchants and the rest of the crowd of peddlars still on the deck. When we came up again aa the whole crowd was still there squatting before their packs. But little or no atten- tion was now paid to them, for all on the ship. were on the qui vive for a run ashore. Cyril, I, and the second officer of the ship, with whom we had both become great chums, went ashore together. After / loitering awhile about the verandahs of a well-known hotel, watching the many- colored and picturesque scene around us, we decided to spend the day at Mount Lavinia and return to the ship in the cool. We hired a buggy, driven by a ne and horsed by a lean and scraggy-looking animal, who .proved to be possesed of much greater speed and endurance than his appearance indicated. It was, need- less to say, very hot, and we one and all laid aside even the linen jackets which we were wearing. The road to Mount Lavinia twists in and out among woods of cocoanut and other palms, the green of which is lit up with the brilliant hibiscus and beautiful wild-lily. At Mount Lavinia—which is nota mount at all—there is a very com- ARMY AND NAVY WEEKLY. fortable little hotel with a pretty garden sloping to a cream-white beach. We found this pleasant spot distinctly cooler than Colombo, which was one of the reasons; why Archie Hexham, our companion, had advised our paying a visit to the hotel. After lunch we wan- dered about in the neighborhood, sat out on the beach, had tea, did some more chaffering with a couple of peddlars whom we found stationed on the veran- dah of the hotel, and then prepared to return. Hexham announced his intention of walking back. ‘“‘Aboard ship a fellow gets so few chances of stretching his legs in a really good walk that I take every opportunity I get of a spin ashore,’’ he said. ® ‘ SOXDKOIOX OOO AOS 3 oe 6! SOD POLE o2 ee: 3 ie: Woe eeese|esetee Address Army and Navy Weekly, 238 William St. «HOWARD, AINSLEE & COMPANY, New York City. LISS CI ws a. 7 MOY “) .