"I guess I can let you have it," said Dick good naturedly. "Come to my room, and I'll get it."
It was after ten o'clock, but as Dick had received permission to attend the spread, he had a permit to be out after taps. Paul, who had not been invited, was asleep when Dick and Glen entered.
"I say, Hamilton, you keep your room looking nice," said the "sport" as he looked around the neat apartment. "I'm always getting a mark at police inspection, for having something out of kilter. You and Drew are as neat as girls."
"Hush! Not so loud," cautioned Dick. "You'll wake, Paul."
"Aw, what's the odds. He'll go to sleep again. It's early yet. Be a sport!"
Glen was noisy from the beer which he had taken.
"Here is the money," said Dick, handing over some bills.
"Thanks, old chap. I'll see that you get it back all right."
"There's no hurry."
"All right; if I win, though, I'll pay you to-morrow. Do you think we'll lick Mooretown?"
"I hope so. But you'd better go to bed now."
"Me? Go to bed? Wha' for?"
"Well, it's getting late, and some one might come along. You'd better go."
"That's a' right. I'm goin'. You're a' right, Ham'ton. You're a' right. You're sport!"
And, rather unsteady on his legs, poor, foolish Glen went away, much to Dick's relief.
"I don't much care for friends, such as he is," thought Dick, as he got into bed.
In his generousness it never occurred to him that Glen had cultivated his acquaintance merely that he might borrow money from him.
Dick was awakened by the clear, sweet notes of the bugle sounding reveille. He and Paul jumped out of bed, and were soon in their uniforms. Then they got their room in order for police inspection, which, on some days, was made while they were at breakfast. This was one of those occasions.
"There, I guess they can't find any fault with that," observed Dick, as he and his roommate,putting the finishing touches to their apartment, descended to form in line to march to the mess hall.
Dick was leaving the table, to attend chapel, when Cadet Captain Naylor, who was in charge of the police inspection, tapped him on the shoulder.
"Hamilton, report to Major Rockford," he said curtly.
"To Major Rockford? What for?"
"Room out of order."
"Room out of order?"
Dick knew that he and Paul had left their apartment in perfect trim.
But Captain Naylor did not answer, and Dick, with a heavy heart, started for the commandant's office. It was the first time he had been made to report for a breach of discipline of this sort.
"Youare reported as not having your room in order, Hamilton," began Major Rockford, as Dick entered.
"I don't see how that can be, sir," replied Dick, saluting. "When Paul Drew and I left it for breakfast it was in order."
"Drew's side is yet, but your bureau is stated by Captain Naylor to be in great disorder."
"I—I left it in order, sir."
"Very well, we will go and take a look at it."
Accompanied by the commandant, Dick went to his apartment. To his surprise his neat bureau was in great disorder, the objects on it being scattered all about.
"Well?" asked Major Rockford.
"Some one—some one must have been in here, sir," said Dick.
"Ha! Do you wish to accuse any one?"
Dick went closer to his bureau. Something on it caught his eye. It was a note written in pencil. It read:
"Dear Hamilton: I am awfully sick this morning. I lost that twenty-five you loaned me. Can you let me have some more? I called but you were out, so I wrote this note here. Please let me have the money."Russell Glen."
"Dear Hamilton: I am awfully sick this morning. I lost that twenty-five you loaned me. Can you let me have some more? I called but you were out, so I wrote this note here. Please let me have the money.
"Russell Glen."
Then Dick understood. Glen, suffering from the effects of his dissipation the night before, had called at the room after our hero and Paul had left to go to breakfast. In writing the note Glen had, probably unthinkingly, disarranged the things on Dick's bureau, where he wrote and left the missive. Then he had gone away, and, Captain Naylor, on police inspection, had seen the disorder, and reported Dick.
"Do you wish to accuse any one?" went on Major Rockford.
Dick thought rapidly. To tell the true circumstances, and show Glen's note, would mean that the facts of the spread would come out. Glen and his chums would be punished, and Dick might be censured. It would be better to accept the blame for having his room in disorder, rather than incur the displeasure of his comrades by being the means of informing on Glen.
So Dick answered:
"I—I guess I was mistaken, sir. I am sorry my room was out of order."
"So am I, Hamilton, for you have a good record. Still there have been several violationsof late, among the cadets, and I must make an example. But, in view of yourgoodconduct, and record I will not give you any demerits."
"Thank you, sir."
"Still, I must inflict some punishment You will not be allowed to attend the football game this afternoon, but must remain in your room."
That was punishment indeed, for Dick felt that he would have a chance to play. Still, like a good soldier, he did not murmur. He concealed Glen's note in his hand, saluted the major and then, as chapel was over, he marched to his classroom, with a heavy heart.
"I wonder if that was part of a plot to get me into trouble," thought Dick, as he recalled what he had overheard Dutton say. "They're trying to force me to leave the academy. But I'll not go! I'll fight it out!"
He felt very lonesome as he had to retire to his room that afternoon, and heard the merry shouts of the football eleven, the substitutes, and the other cadets leaving for the final battle on the gridiron with Mooretown.
"How I wish I could go!" thought Dick. "I'm punished for something I didn't do. It isn't right. Still, perhaps Glen was so sick he didn't know what he was doing."
He had already sent Glen some more money, for he did not want to refuse one of the few favors that had been asked of him since coming to the academy.
As he was moping in his room, Toots came along, whistling "Three Cheers for the Red, White and Blue," and giving a succession of bugle calls.
"What? Not at the game, Mister Hamilton?" asked the jolly janitor.
"No; I'm a prisoner."
"That's nothing. Many a time I got out of the guard house. There's no one around now, and I won't look, nor squeal. You can easily slip out, and go to the game."
"No," said Dick, though the temptation was strong. "By the way, Toots, did you ever call to mind about this picture?" and he showed him the one of missing Bill Handlee, which was still on the mantle.
"No," replied Toots, again striving hard to remember about it. "It's clean gone from me, Mr. Hamilton. But, are you sure you don't want to escape? I can find some work to do at the other side of the barracks, if you want to go."
"No. I'll stay."
And stay Dick did, all that long afternoon. It was dusk when the players and the other cadets came back, and there was anominoussilence about their return.
"It doesn't sound as if they'd won," thought Dick. "If they did they're celebrating very quietly."
Paul Drew came in a little later.
"How about the game?" asked Dick eagerly.
"We lost," said Paul. "We might have won, only Henderson, who had a chance to score a winning touchdown, couldn't run fast enough with the ball, and he was downed on the five-yard line, too late for another try to cross the Mooretown goal. I wish you had played. You'd have won the game for us."
"Oh, I guess not."
"Yes, you would. Captain Rutledge admitted as much."
"Well, maybe I'll get a chance next time."
"There won't be any next time this year. The game is over for the season, and Mooretown did us two contests out of three. It's too bad. The fellows are all cut up over it. Say, have you any idea who mussed up your bureau? Was it Dutton?"
"No, it wasn't Dutton," said Dick quietly, and that was all he could be induced to say about it.
Discipline, which had been somewhat relaxed during the football season, was now in force again, and the cadets found they were kept very busy with their studies and drills. Dick was standing well in his classes, but he made no more progress in gaining the friendship of the students, other than a few freshmen.
Even Glen showed no disposition to make much of Dick. He did not repay the money borrowed, on the plea that he was in debt quite heavily, and had lost much on the football game. Still he had the cheek to ask Dick for more, and when theyoung millionaire properly refused Glen called him a "tight-wad," and sneered at him, making no pretense of retaining his friendship.
One night, following several spreads, to none of which was Dick invited, he wrote a rather discouraged letter to hisfather, hinting that he wished he could attend some other school.
In due time there came an answer, part of which was as follows:
"You know the terms were that you were to remain at least a full term. Still, if you do not wish to, you have the choice of going to your Uncle Ezra. He will send you to a boarding school of his own selection. Let me know what you will do. I will not be able to get home by Christmas, as I expected, and you had better remain at the academy over the holidays. I know it will be lonesome for you, but it can't be helped."
"You know the terms were that you were to remain at least a full term. Still, if you do not wish to, you have the choice of going to your Uncle Ezra. He will send you to a boarding school of his own selection. Let me know what you will do. I will not be able to get home by Christmas, as I expected, and you had better remain at the academy over the holidays. I know it will be lonesome for you, but it can't be helped."
"Go to a boarding school selected by Uncle Ezra," murmured Dick. "Never! I'll stay here a full term, even if no one but the teachers speak to me. I never could stand Uncle Ezra and Dankville. This is bad enough, but there are some bright spots in it. The sun never shines where Uncle Ezra is."
Yet the time was coming when Uncle Ezra was to do Dick a great favor, though he himself was not aware of it.
So Dick sent word to his father that he would remain at Kentfield. Fall merged into winter, and overcoats were the order of the day at all out-door exercises. Much of the drilling and parading was omitted, and more study and recitation was indulged in. What maneuvers on horseback and afoot were held, took place mainly in the big riding hall or drill room, and they were not asattractiveas when held out of doors.
"Well, are you going home for Christmas?" asked Paul, about a week before the holiday vacation.
"Guess not," replied Dick, somewhat gloomily. "Our house is shut up, and I don't care about spending Christmas at a hotel in Hamilton Corners."
"Come home with me."
"No, thank you. I was thinking of visiting some of my chums at home. I believe I'll do that. I'll be glad to see them again."
Dick knew he would be welcomed at the homes of any of his friends, and he planned to go to Hamilton Corners and surprise them.
But alas for his hopes! When the last day of school came, and the other cadets made hurried preparations to leave for home, poor Dick was taken with a heavy cold. The surgeon forbade him leaving his room, as the weather was cold and stormy, and our hero was forced to remain at Kentfield, in charge of the housekeeper and thedoctor, while the other cadets joyfully departed to happy firesides.
"Sorry to leave you, old chap," said Paul, sympathetically, "but my folks wouldn't know what to do if I didn't come home over the holidays."
"That's all right," said Dick, hoarsely, but as cheerfully as he could. "I'll see you after New Year's. Have a good time."
"I will. Hope you get better."
It was a gloomy Christmas for the young millionaire, and, as a fever set in with his cold, he couldn't even enjoy the goodthingswhich the kind housekeeper, under orders from Colonel Masterly, provided for the patient.
The academy was a very lonely place indeed, Christmas day, for all the officers and cadets had gone, leaving only the housekeeper, and some of the janitors, including Toots, in charge.
Dick received some tokens from abroad, sent by his father, and a cheery letter, which he answered in the same strain.
"But it isn't much like Christmas," thought Dick, as he sat up in bed. Then a bright thought came to him.
"Can't Toots have dinner up here with me?" he asked Mrs. Fitzpatrick.
"Of course he can," she said. "Maybe it will cheer you up," and she sent for the jolly janitor.
Toots'advance along the corridor leading to Dick's room was announced by his rendering of the tune "The Star Spangled Banner," which he ended with a spirited bugle call.
"Did you send for me, Mr. Hamilton?" he asked as he came in.
"I did, Toots," said Dick. "I thought maybe you would like to have dinner with me here. I'm lonesome, and I suppose you are, too."
"Bless your heart, not exactly lonesome, Mr. Hamilton, but I'm glad to come just the same. You see I'm too busy to be lonesome. I've got lots to do, cleaning up all the rooms against the cadets coming back in a couple of weeks."
"Then maybe you haven't time to spend an hour or so here."
"Oh, I reckon I have. But it's agin the regulations for me to eat here. I'm supposed to eat with the other servants."
"We'll make our own regulations for the time being," said Dick. "Here comes Mrs. Fitzpatrickwith the grub. I hope you're hungry, for I'm not particularly."
"Well, I can eat a bit," admitted Toots. "I say, though, that is a spread!" he exclaimed, as he saw the good things the housekeeper was bringing into Dick's room, where she set them on a table.
"Well, it's Christmas," observed Dick, "though I can't eat much myself. However, it'll do me good to see you put it away."
"And I can do that same," admitted Toots cheerfully.
Dick, under the doctor's orders was allowed only a bit of the white meat of the turkey, and none of the "stuffing," so he could not make a very substantial meal, but Toots ate enough for three.
"I don't suppose you got this sort of thing in the army," ventured Dick, wishing to have his odd friend talk somewhat of his experiences, for he had learned that Toots had once been janitor at a military post.
"No, indeed," replied Toots. "We did get a little extra at holiday times, but nothing like this."
"How did you come to be at the military post?" asked Dick.
"Blessed if I know. I was always a sort of a rover, and I suppose I wandered out west. I'm going to join the army some time. I'm a good shot, you know. Did you ever see me shoot?"
"Yes," replied Dick, trying not to smile, as hethought of how far Toots had come from hitting the target.
"Yes, I'm a good shot," went on the janitor. "But I'm going to improve. I'll practice on the range this winter at odd times. You're a pretty good shot yourself, ain't you?"
"Fair," admitted Dick, as he watched Toots put away the roast turkey and the "fixings."
"A-ker-choo!" suddenly sneezed Toots, pulling out his handkerchief. "Aker-choo-choo! Guess I put too much pepper on my potatoes," he said.
Something fell to the floor, as Toots pulled out his handkerchief. It lay in sight of Dick, who was propped up in bed.
"What's that?" he asked. "You dropped something."
The man picked it up, and Dick saw that it was a marksman's bronze medal.
"Let me see that," he said, quickly, and the janitor passed it over.
"Why this was given to some soldier, for good shooting," went on our hero, as he tried to decipher the name on it. "Where did you get it, Toots?"
"Blessed if I know, Mr. Hamilton. I've had it a long time. It was given to me by some friend, I expect. I found it the other day in my trunk. I'd forgotten I had it. But if it's a marksman's badge, I'm going to wear it. I'm a good shot."
Dick looked more closely at it. Besides thename of some soldier the badge contained the name of the command to which he had belonged, but everything save the letters "mie, Wyo." were obliterated by dents and scratches.
A sudden thought came to Dick. It was in connection with Toot's half-recognition of the picture of missing Bill Handlee. It was evident that Toots knew something of the captain's son, but he could not straighten out the kink in his memory, and possibly this marksman's badge might be a clue. Dick hoped so, and he decided to try to learn from what fort or command the medal had been given.
"I wish you'd let me take this for a few days, Toots," he said. "I'll take good care of it."
"All right, Mr. Hamilton, but don't lose it. If it's what you say it is, I'm going to wear it, to show I'm a good shot. Then I won't have to be telling people all the while. They can see it for themselves."
"Can't you recollect where you got it?" asked Dick again.
Toots shook his head.
"It's like—like the time you asked me about his picture," he said, pointing to the photo on the mantle. "I get all sort of confused in my head. Maybe I always had it. Maybe someone gave it to me when I was janitor at the fort out west."
"What fort was that?"
"I've forgotten. It's a good while ago. Butdon't lose that medal, Mr. Hamilton. I'm going to wear it."
"Poor Toots," thought Dick. "All the medals in the world will never make you a good shot."
He put the badge carefully away, resolving to ask Major Webster, at the first opportunity, from what military post it was likely to have come.
Thanks to the jolly companionship of Toots, Christmas was not as gloomy as Dick had feared it would be. The dinner over the janitor left Dick to himself, and our hero fell into a refreshing sleep. When he awoke he felt much better, and the doctor said he could be out in a couple of days, if the weather moderated.
The first of the year dawned; a fine bracing day, and, as there was no biting wind, Dick was allowed to stroll about the campus a short time. This brought the color to his cheeks, and completed the cure begun by thesurgeon'smedicine.
"Well, things will be lively a week from to-night," said Toots one day, as he came in to make up Dick's room.
"Why?"
"The boys will be back then. Vacation will be over."
"I'm glad of it," commented Dick, and then, with pain in his heart, he wondered if the coming term would bring him more fellowship than had theprecedingone.
Major Webster was among the first of the instructors to arrive, in anticipation of the returnof the students, and to him Dick showed the medal.
"Why, yes; that's one given out years ago, at Fort Laramie, Wyoming," he said. "I can send it to a friend of mine for you, if you like. Possibly they may be able to trace the illegible name from the fort records."
"I wish you would," said Dick. "Maybe I can get a trace of Captain Handlee's son for him."
"I doubt it," replied the major, shaking his head. "I tried all the sources of information I knew, and it was useless. Still you may have better luck."
The medal was sent off, but, fearing nothing would come of it, Dick did not say anything to Captain Handlee about it, though he wrote to the veteran in answer to a letter the old soldier sent him.
The holiday vacation came to a close, and, one morning Dick awoke to a realization that, on that day, the cadets would come pouring back.
It was nearly noon when the first of them arrived. Among them was Paul Drew.
"Well, how are you, old chap?" he cried, rushing into Dick's room.
"Pretty good. How about you?"
"Oh, I had a dandy time, home. I almost hated to come back, but I wanted to see you, and then I know we'll have some sport this winter. Say, there are a lot of new fellows. We're notso fresh as we were. There are others. There's going to be hazing to-night, I understand. Thank fortune they won't bother me. I don't fancy cold water down my back on a winter night."
"Hazing, eh?" remarked Dick. And he wondered if his turn would come.
Allthe rest of that day cadets continued to arrive at Kentfield Academy, and there were lively scenes on the snow-covered campus, in the assembly auditoriums, students' rooms, and in the mess hall.
Several new cadets stood about, looking rather miserable, Dick thought, and he spoke to some of them, telling them where to report, and what to do, for he appreciated what it meant to be a stranger among a lot of lads who ignored new-comers, not because they were heartless so much as that they were thoughtless.
Dick rather hoped Dutton would not return, but that cadet was among the first he encountered as he strolled over the white campus.
Dutton nodded coolly, and Dick as coolly acknowledged the bow. Then Dutton saw a freshman standing near the saluting cannon. It was one of the unwritten rules of the school that none below the grade of sophomores might stand near the cannon.
"Here, fresh!" cried Dutton roughly, "stand away from that gun!"
The lad, a small chap, did not seem to comprehend.
Dick put in a word.
"You can't stand near there until you're a second year," he told the lad. "It's a school rule, that's all."
"I say, Hamilton, I guess I can manage my own affairs," said Dutton, angrily. "You mind your own business; will you?"
"I guess I've got as much right to speak as you have," said Dick hotly. "I was only telling him what to do."
The freshman looked from one to the other. Quite a group had gathered by this time, attracted by Dutton's loud voice. The new lad moved a short distance away from the gun.
"Don't you know enough to mind when you're spoken to?" demanded Dutton, advancing toward him. "I'll teach you manners, you young cub! Why don't you salute when an officer speaks to you? Now get back," and, with that he gave the lad such a shove that he went over backward into a snow bank, made by shoveling the white crystals away from the gun.
"That's not right, Dutton!" exclaimed Dick.
"You mind your own affairs, or I'll do the same to you, Hamilton," retorted the bully.
"You'd better try it," said Dick quietly. "If you want to fight with me, you know what to do. Just lay a finger on me."
He took a step toward his enemy, and stoodwaiting for him. But Dutton knew better than to attack Dick. He had felt the weight of his fists once, and he knew he had no chance in a fair fight.
So he strode away, muttering to the lad whom he had knocked down:
"You keep away from this gun, after this, fresh."
Dick did not think it wise to say anything further on the side of the mistreated one. Already he saw some unpleasant looks directed toward him by Dutton's friends, and he realized that by interfering in what was considered one of the rights of upper classmen, to assume a bullying attitude toward those in the lower grades, he was not adding to his popularity. I am glad to say that such characters as Dutton were in the small majority at Kentfield, and that though some of his cronies applauded his action in knocking the newcomer down, most of the lads were not in sympathy with the bully.
But there were so many things occurring, so many cadets arriving, some of whom wanted to change their apartments, to get new roommates, or be quartered in other sections of the barracks, that all was in seeming confusion.
Colonel Masterly and his aides, however, had matters well in hand, and by night, when the cadets lined up for the march to mess, affairs were in some sort of order.
"Do you want to make a shift, Paul?" askedDick, as they went to their room early that evening.
"A shift? What do you mean?"
"Why some of your friends have changed over to the east barrack, I hear. I thought maybe you'd want to go too?"
"Do you want me to go?"
"Indeed I don't!" and Dick spoke very earnestly.
"All right. When I want to leave you I'll let you know," and Paul slapped Dick on the back in a fashion that told what his feelings were in the matter.
A little later mysterious steps in the corridor, and subdued knockings on nearby doors told Paul and Dick that somethingunusualwas going on.
"Hazing," said Paul. "We're immune. Let's take it in."
"I don't like to haze fellows," said Dick. "It's all right when they're your size, but all the chaps who came in lately are smaller than I am."
"That won't make any difference to Dutton and his crowd. They'll haze 'em anyhow, and we might as well see the fun. A fellow who can't stand a little hazing is no good."
"That's so. Guess I'll go. I don't mind it if it isn't too rough. I wouldn't mind being hazed myself. It would give me a chance to make a rough house for Dutton and his cronies."
"Come on then. Let's go to the gym. I heardthat they're going to haze a bunch of 'em there."
"What about Major Rockford?"
"Well, I guess he and the colonel know about it, but they won't interfere unless it gets too strenuous."
Dick and Paul found a large crowd of the older cadets already gathered in the gymnasium. In one corner was huddled a rather frightened group of freshmen, who were waiting their turn to be grilled. They had been rounded up from their rooms by a committee appointed for that purpose.
"Now, fellows," said Dutton, who, as usual, assumed the leadership, "we'll work 'em off in bunches. Put two or three of 'em in a blanket and toss 'em up for a starter."
"Some of 'em may get hurt," objected Stiver. "We'd better take 'em one at a time."
"Aw, you're afraid! Besides, we haven't time. Here, Beeby, grab a couple of 'em and pass 'em over."
Captain Beeby of Company B grasped a cadet in either hand, and shoved them towardDutton. The latter already had one, and the three lads were pushed down into a large blanket which had been spread for that purpose.
"Grab the corners and up with 'em!" called Dutton. "Toss 'em as high as you can."
"Supposetheyfall out?" objected Lieutenant Jim Watkins.
"It won't matter. There's a gym. mat under 'em."
Up into the air went the unfortunate lads, clinging together in a sort of bunch, and struggling to see which one was to be underneath in the fall. Down they came into the blanket, but the impact was so heavy that it was torn from the grasp of the cadets holding it, and the freshmen landed on the mat with a thump and many squeals.
"That's the way!" cried Dutton with a laugh. "Now, once more."
"Let's take some others," proposed Beeby.
"No, they haven't had enough."
So, in spite of their struggles and protests, the lads were tossed again. Then three more took their places. They, too, had a hard time, one falling over the edge of the blanket and partly off the mat. But he was game and never made a sound.
"Now for the slide of death!" cried Dutton.
"What's that?" asked several of his cronies.
"I'll show you," he said.
From the top of the gymnasium there hung a long rope, running over a pulley. Dutton made a loop in one end, and then took hold of the other.
"Tie a couple of 'em up in blankets," he ordered, and two of the struggling cadets were made up into a rough bundle. Dutton then passed several coils of the long rope about them.
"Pull 'em up!" he ordered next, and willing hands aided him in hoisting the lads toward the roof of the gymnasium.
"You are now about to take the slide of death!" called Dutton, when the freshmen were close against the pulley, and fully forty feet above the floor. "We're going to let you come down on the run——"
A scream from one of the lads in the blanket high up in the air interrupted him.
"You'll frighten him!" called Dick.
"What's that to you? Mind your own affairs, and we'll run this," said Dutton. "Or maybe you'll get your hazing, which we omitted last time."
"Go ahead," said Dick. "But that's too risky."
"Aw, cut it out, Hamilton," said Stiver. "We ain't going to hurt 'em."
But this assurance could not be heard by the lads in the blanket, who could not see.
"Let her slide!" cried Dutton, and he and his chums released their grasp on the rope, which was wound about a post.
Down, on the run, came the unfortunate cadets, and from the cries they uttered they must have imagined that they were about to be dashed to the floor. Then Dick saw that several mats were right under them, in case of accident.
But it was not the intention of Dutton to run any risks. At first the rope was paid out swiftly, and then it was gradually tightened against thepost, until the speed of the falling cadets was slackened, and they came to a stop a few inches above the mats.
"The next batch won't get off so lucky!" announced Dutton, as hecommandedthat some more be wrapped up in the blanket. "We'll bump them."
This news was sufficient to cause a panic among the candidates still remaining, but their protests were of no avail, and they came down with considerable force on the mats, but no one was hurt.
Then the water cure was administered to a number, the streams being poured down their trouser legs, amid the laughter of the unfortunate ones who were exempt. As the gymnasium was kept quite warm this ordeal was not so bad as might be supposed. Still, it was not pleasant, but it was part of the game.
A particularly tall freshman was stretched out, or, rather suspended on the flying rings, until he looked like some soaring eagle. He struggled, but to no effect, and had to take his medicine. Others were blindfolded, and made to fight with blown-up bladders, some were tied in pairs ontrapezes, and a number were made to do ridiculous stunts, to the more or less enjoyment of the older cadets.
"Well, I guess that's all," announced Dutton, a little before it was time for taps to sound. "Unless we take Hamilton."
"I'm willing," said Dick, with a grim smile.
"He's too willing. He'd knock a lot of us around," whispered Stiver to Dutton.
"We'll postpone your initiation," remarked the Captain of Company A. "Come on, fellows, there goes tattoo. Half an hour to lights out."
Matters more quickly adjusted themselves following the opening of the winter term, than they did at the beginning of the fall one, as there were fewer new cadets. Lessons were quickly under way, together with a fewdrills, out of doors when the weather permitted it, otherwise in the big hall.
The lake froze over, and Dick and the other lads had their fill of skating, races being held every afternoon. In a number of these, particularly the long distance ones, Dick came in a winner.
Then there were snowball fights between the different companies, both on foot and mounted on horses, with wooden shields. These were lively affairs, and were enjoyed by all.
Dick took his part in the winter sports, but, though he had increased his friends by the addition of several freshmen, particularly Payson Emery, the lad whose knocking down by Dutton he had resented, he made no progress toward getting intimate with the upperclassmen.
"But I've got half a term yet," thought Dick.
With the advent of winter, affairs in the town of Kentfield, which was about two miles from where the academy was located, became more lively. There were theatrical and other entertainments,and the cadets, when they could not get permission to attend these, used to run the guard.
Usually there was little risk in this, as the cadet officers would not report their friends, unless some member of the academy faculty happened to hear a late-staying party come sneaking in, and then the young officer on guard knew he had to make some sort of a report or be punished himself.
One night there was a large and rather fashionable dance given in town, by some friends of Dutton's family. He was invited, together with some of his cronies, but he was refused permission to go, as he had broken several rules of late.
"Well, I'm going anyhow," he announced to Stiver. "I guess I can run the guard all right, and get back. There are some girls I want to meet."
So Dutton and Stiver, and one or two others, went.
Dick was on guard, as it happened, at the barracks where Dutton and the others had their rooms. He waspatrollinghis post long after midnight, expecting soon to be relieved, when he saw some shadowy forms stealing along the hedge.
"Halt!" he cried, bringing his rifle up.
"Gee! It's Hamilton!" he heard some one say, and he recognized Stiver's voice.
"Then I guess it's all up with us," announced Dutton, straightening up, and, with his chums, approaching Dick.
The young millionaire said nothing.
"Are you going to let us in? We haven't the countersign," said Dutton, with an uneasy laugh.
"You can go in," replied Dick, producing the key to the front door.
"And I suppose you'll squeal in the morning," went on Dutton, as he and his cronies entered.
Dick didn't answer.
"You should have known better than to risk going, Dutton," said Stiver. "Of course he'll tell. He owes you too much not to."
But Dick didn't tell, and Dutton's breach of discipline was not discovered.
"Well, Dick," remarked Paul Drew, one afternoon, as he and his roommate came in from drill, "I see you're on the ball committee."
"What ball, and what committee?"
"The fancy dress ball, if I have to go into all the details. You know the academy has one every year, and it's a swell affair, let me tell you. Lights, gay music, pretty girls——"
"Especially pretty girls," said Dick with a smile. "But what committee am I on?"
"Arrangements. Didn't you see the list posted in the mess hall? I don't envy you. There will be lots to do."
"Suppose you take pity on my ignorance, and go a little more into details."
Whereupon Paul did, describing the affair at length. It was to take place, as usual, in February, and this time would be held on Washington's birthday.
"Maybe we won't have fun!" exclaimed Paul. "There'll be all sorts of costumes, and the decorationswill be immense. You'll have to help with them."
"Then I'd better get busy," declared Dick. "I must see who's chairman of my committee, and report for work. What character are you going to portray, Paul?"
"I think I shall go as a Colonial officer. I always did like a powdered wig."
"Talcum powder, instead of gun powder," retorted Dick. "That's the calibre of such tin soldiers as you."
"Halt!" called Paul, as Dick prepared to run away. "As punishment I'll not introduce you to a certain pretty girl I know, who is coming to the dance."
"Then I'll surrender and beg your pardon!" cried Dick.
"What part will you play?" asked Paul. "You'd look swell dressed as an Indian."
"I think I'll take the part of a cannon swab, and then I'll not have to bother about a suit. But more of that later. I'm going to see what I have to do."
Dick found out from the chairman of his committee that there was plenty of work to prepare for the fête, and he did his share. One day he had to go to a nearby town to purchase some of the decorations.
It was two days before the fancy dress ball was to take place, and, having made his purchases, Dick prepared to return to the Academy. As hewas about to board a trolley car, which ran near Kentfield, he heard a voice calling:
"How are you, Dick Hamilton?"
He turned, to see a tall, well-built lad, of about his own age, who was smiling at him in a friendly fashion. At first he did not recognize the youth.
"You don't know me, I see," went on the other. "I once had the pleasure of interviewing you about a gold brick game——"
"Why, Larry Dexter! How are you?" cried Dick, turning aside from the car, and holding out his hand to the other. "I did not get a good look at you, or I would have known you at once. What good wind blows you here? Can't you stay and come over to our Academy? Where have you been? How is the newspaper business?"
"My, you'd do for a reporter yourself!" exclaimed Larry Dexter, with a smile. "I'm glad you haven't forgotten me though. Have you been swindled lately? I'd like a good story. The one I came down here after didn't pan out."
Those of you who have read my books in the "Newspaper Series" will at once recognize the lad who greeted Dick. He was Lawrence Dexter, a reporter on the New YorkLeader, and, as related in the volume called "Dick Hamilton's Fortune," he had met our hero when the latter had narrowly escaped being swindled by a sharper in the metropolis. Larry, as all his friends called him, had managed to get a good "story" from the experience of Dick, who was on a visit to NewYork, with a number of boy friends. The incident is mentioned in the third volume of the Newspaper Series, "Larry Dexter's Great Search," where the young reporter does some detective work.
After Dick had given Larry the story of the attempted swindle, the young reporter took the millionaire's son to the newspaper office, and showed him something of how a great daily is published. The two lads had struck up quite a friendship, and they had pleasant memories of each other.
"What are you doing here?" asked Dick, as they walked up the street with his newspaper acquaintance.
"Oh, I came here on a peculiar robbery yarn, but it turned out to be an ordinary affair, and not worth much of a story. I sent in the account by wire, and, as a reward for my past valuable services to the paper, I have been given a couple of days' leave of absence. You see, the managing editor thinks quite highly of me," and Larry made a mock bow.
"Then you're just in time," said Dick.
"How so?"
"Why, you can spend a few days with me. There's going to be a big masked ball at the military academy where I attend, and perhaps you'd like to see it."
"I think I would, if the military authorities will admit a mere civilian."
"I'm sure they will. Come along back with me. I'll introduce you to Colonel Masterly, and you can bunk in with Drew and me. Paul Drew is my roommate—a fine fellow."
"Oh, I'm afraid I'll put you out."
"You couldn't do that, Larry. Come on. We'll have some fun."
So Larry Dexter accompanied Dick back to the Academy, where he was speedily made welcome by Colonel Masterly and members of the latter's staff.
"We would be very glad to have you remain and witness some evolutions of the cadets, a day or so after the ball," invited the colonel. "They will possibly interest you."
"I should be glad to," replied Larry, "but I can't stay long enough. It is very kind of you to invite me to the ball."
Possibly Colonel Masterly had a purpose in seconding Dick's invitation to this affair. The head of the military school was not averse to a little free advertising for the Academy, and he thought perhaps Larry might "write up" an account of the ball. Which, as a matter of fact, Larry did, and a fine account it was.
The reporter, though Dick invited him to don a costume, thought it better not to, and, when the night of the gay affair came, Larry was in sober black, forming a strange contrast to the lads in gay uniforms. The dresses of the young ladies and the uniforms or costumes of the cadets, withthe hundreds of electric lights, the gay streamers and flags festooned about the gymnasium, made the apartment a brilliant picture. The Academy cadet band struck up a lively march, and the dancers paraded around the room, two by two. Dick was not in this, as he had not yet made the acquaintance of any of the girls, and after ascertaining that Larry Dexter was in a position where he could see well, our hero retired rather disconsolately to a secluded corner. He saw Paul Drew dancing with a very pretty girl, and was just beginning to envy him, when his roommate walked up, and introduced her to Dick.
"Allow me to present my friend, Dick Hamilton," said Paul with a low bow. "Mr. Hamilton—Miss Fordice. Dick is a better dancer than I am," added Paul.
It was plainly a hint to Dick, who at once took advantage of it, and asked:
"May I have the honor?"
"If it pleases you, sir," replied the girl, with a mischievous smile, and an old-fashioned courtesy.
Dick led her into a two-step, and they were soon whirling about. But Dick was not selfish, and he knew better than to keep Paul's partner away from him for long, so, making some excuse, he led Miss Fordice back to his roommate.
"I'll introduce you to some other girls, after this dance, Hamilton," Paul called back to him.
Dick noticed that a tall, dark girl, who was standing near one of the pillars, started at thesound of his name. A moment later she advanced toward him, appeared to hesitate, and then came forward.
"Excuse me," she said, "but are you Dick Hamilton?"
"I am," said our hero, secretly delighted at the chance of talking to the girl.
"I thought I heard Mr. Drew call you that. You must think it dreadfully forward of me to speak to you without an introduction——"
"Nothing of the sort," said Dick promptly.
"But I know friends of yours," went on the girl. "I am Miss Mabel Hanford, and I know Birdy Lee, who lives in your town—I mean in the place where you come from. She and I used to be great chums. We went to school together."
"Indeed," said Dick. "Birdy Lee and I are well acquainted."
"So she said when I wrote to her, telling her I was coming to this ball. She suggested that I might meet you, and when I heard your name mentioned, I couldn't help speaking."
"I am glad you did," said Dick, smiling.
"Won't you come over and let me introduce you to my mother?" went on Miss Hanford. "I feel as if I had known you a long time, for Birdy often spoke of you in her letters to me."
"I am glad she did," said Dick, gallantly.
Mrs. Hanford greeted him kindly, evidently approving of her daughter's action.
"May I have the next dance?" asked Dick of the daughter.
"Yes," said Miss Hanford, blushing a little. "But I hope you don't think I spoke to you just to have you dance with me——"
"Not at all," Dick hastened to say.
"Because my card is nearly filled now," she went on.
"I hope I may find room to put my name down in several places."
"You may look. I think the next waltz is open."
"It seems to be the only one," said Dick, ruefully.
A little later he and the girl were sailing about the room to the strains of a dreamy waltz. Dick was a fine dancer, Miss Hanford was his equal, and the two made a pleasing appearance on the big ballroom floor.
"Where were you?" asked Paul, as Dick came walking up to him after the young millionaire had taken his partner back to her mother. "I was looking for you to introduce a girl to you."
"I managed to meet one myself."
"Who?"
"Miss Mabel Hanford."
Paul whistled.
"What's the matter?" asked Dick. "Isn't she all right?"
"I should say so! Every fellow here is anxious to dance with her, but Dutton seems tomonopolize her. He seems to think he's engaged to her."
"I don't believe he has any right to think that," spoke Dick warmly. "She's a very nice girl. I wish I had met her earlier in the evening." The band was playing another waltz.
"So do lots of other fellows, I guess. But you're doing pretty well. There goes Dutton with her now," continued Paul.
Dick looked on, with envious eyes. Though Dutton and Miss Hanford were waltzing about, she did not seem at ease. Her face was flushed, and Dutton looked angry. When the dance came to an end he left her abruptly.
Dick strolled over, casually, though his heart was beating faster than usual.
"You look warm," he said to the girl.
"Yes, the room is very close," she replied, and she fanned her face with a filmy lace handkerchief.
"Perhaps you would like an ice."
"Indeed I should."
"I'll get you one," promised Dick. Then, waxing bold, he looked at her program.
"What are you looking for?" she asked with a laugh. "To see what sort of ice I prefer? It's not there, but I'll take orange, if you can get one."
"I was looking to see, if by any good fortune you had another vacant place on your card."
"I'll make one for you," she said with a smile, as she crossed out a name. "Tantrell can look for another partner," she added.
"Who may Tantrell be?" asked Dick, as he put his name in place of the erased one.
"My cousin. He brought me here, but he doesn't care much for dancing. I know he'll be glad to have you relieve him."
"Not half so glad as I am," retorted Dick quickly. "Now I'll get you the ice."
As he walked away he saw Dutton eyeing him angrily.
"Probably he doesn't like me to be talking to her," thought Dick.
There was quite a crush in the refreshment room, and, in spite of the fact that he was a member of the arrangement committee, Dick had some difficulty in getting an ice for Miss Hanford. As he struggled through the crush of gay dancers with it he tripped, and, to save himself, involuntarily threw his hands forward. The ice slipped from the plate, and went splashing full against the back of a cadet dressed in an elaborate Colonial uniform, with a white satin coat. The highly-colored ice made a big, blotchy stain on the garment.
The cadet whirled like a flash. It was Dutton.
"Who did that?" he cried, as he saw a little puddle forming at his feet, where the fast melting ice lay.
"I did," answered Dick promptly. "It was an accident, Captain Dutton."
"An accident?" There was a sneer in the other's tone.
"An accident," retorted Dick, as he turned away.
"Here! Where are you going?" cried Dutton. Several turned to stare at him, for his manner toward Dick was most insulting.
"I am going after another ice for Miss Hanford," said the young millionaire quickly.
"Wait a minute!" ordered Dutton, in the voice he used on parade.
"Not now," drawled Dick. "Wait until I get another ice."
"You wait, I say!" spluttered Dutton.
"It's too hot," replied Dick, for he could not help but notice the insulting tones. "I'll see you later. I'm sorry about the accident."
"That was no accident," declared Dutton. "You did that on purpose, and I—I want——"
But Dick passed on. He saw Miss Hanford looking at him from among the fringe of spectators, and, as he walked back to the refreshment room, he noticed that Dutton had one of the mess-hall attendants wiping off as much as possible of the stain from the white satin coat.
WhenDick secured another ice, and took it to Miss Hanford, he found her sitting in a quiet corner. She was rather pale, and did not seem to care much for the ice which he had had such trouble in securing.
"I'm not quite so warm now," she said, in explanation. "It was very kind of you to get this for me. Do you—do you think Captain Dutton will be very angry at you?" She seemed anxious.
"I don't see why he should be," replied Dick. "It was an accident. I could not help tripping."
"After you went back the second time, he talked loudly about you having done it on purpose, and he said he was going to demand satisfaction," went on the girl. "Will he?"
"Well, he can demand it, I suppose," said Dick slowly, "but I don't know what I can do, except to say I'm sorry, and offer to pay for his coat."
"Do you—do you think he will do anything—anything desperate?" asked Miss Hanford, and she looked at Dick sharply.
"Of course not," he replied. "But if we are going to dance, would you mind if we began now? I think this is my two-step."
She arose, and they went whirling about the room. But she was strangely quiet. Dick's enjoyment of the dance was not a bit lessened by seeing Dutton once more scowling at him from behind a draped pillar. The cadet captain had doffed his gay coat, and wore one belonging to his uniform. It formed a strange contrast to his otherwise Colonial costume. When the dance was over Dick saw him beckoning, and, excusing himself from his fair partner, he walked to where Dutton stood.
"You wished to speak to me?" asked Dick.
"Yes. Come outside."
"What for?"
"I wish to speak to you."
"Won't it do in here?"
"No!" snapped Dutton.
Dick hesitated a moment, and, not wishing to quarrel with the captain in the ballroom, he followed him out on a verandah.
"What do you mean by insulting me, and making me ridiculous?" demanded Dutton fiercely.
"Insulting you?" repeated Dick.
"That's what I said. You refused to come back when I called you. I'm your superior officer."
"Not on an occasion like this!" exclaimed Dick, and he drew himself up, and looked Duttonstraight in the eyes. "We are all equal here to-night, Captain Dutton. I take no orders from you!"
"We'll see about that. Why did you deliberately spill that ice over me? You wanted to make me the laughing stock of everyone in the room!"
"I did not. You have no right to say that. It was an accident, pure and simple, and I have already apologized to you for it."
"That is not enough. No one can insult me with impunity. I demand satisfaction!"
"I don't see what satisfaction I can give you—unless I buy you a new coat.Ifthat is what you what you want I will be happy to send you a check for whatever amount——"
"Hold on, Hamilton!" cried Dutton hoarsely. "This is going too far! You're getting mighty fresh. I suppose because you are a millionaire you think your money will do anything. But I tell you it won't. You can't buy a gentleman with money, nor make one either. You come here with a lot of millions behind you, and you think all you need to do is to insult a gentleman, and then offer to pay for it. I tell you I'll not stand it. You did that on purpose and——"
"I have already told you that I did not."
"And I say you did."
There was no mistaking Dutton's meaning. Dick took a step forward. His face was slightly pale.
"That will do!" he said sternly. "Are you aware that you have practically accused me of telling an untruth?"
"That's what I meant to do," answered Dutton fiercely. "You're a cad—a sneak—you threw that ice at me on purpose!"
"If you say that again," exclaimed Dick, "I'll——"
"Well, what will you do?" sneered Dutton.
"I think I shall have to buy you two coats," spoke Dick calmly, for he saw that Dutton was losing control of his temper, and the young millionaire wanted to end the affair.
"Don't you give me any of your fresh talk!" cried the captain.
"I shall say what I please on an occasion like this," responded Dick. "I have that privilege."
"You have, eh? Then look out for yourself!"
Dutton fairly leaped forward, and endeavored to strike Dick, but the young millionaire was too quick for him, and stepped to one side, at the same time involuntarily shooting out his fist, which caught the bully in the side. Dutton stopped short.
"I suppose you know what striking a gentleman means," he said slowly.
"I do when I hit one. I haven't struck any gentleman to-night," said Dick coolly.
"You're adding insult to it. You've got to give me satisfaction for this!"
"I suppose so. You recall how it turned out last time."
"This time will be different. You won't get off so easily."
"Have your own way about it. I guess Paul Drew will be my second again, but I should think you'd had enough of fighting."
"Not with you! I'll never be satisfied until I've beaten you!"
"Then you'll wait a long time."
The two had talked in rather low but tense tones, and they were not aware that they were directly beneath a window that had been opened to let in the fresh air. Nor did they see the frightened face of a girl at the casement.
"Will after the ball suit you?" asked Dutton, as he turned aside.
"Any time."
Dick remained in the cool winter air a little longer, filling his lungs with the oxygen, and when he returned to the ballroom he saw no sign of Dutton. Nor did he see Miss Hanford, though he looked for her, as he had another dance coming.
Supper was served soon after this, and Dick had no sooner risen from the table than Paul Drew signalled him to step one side.
"Dutton has sent a challenge to you by Stiver," he said.
"I expected it."
"Yes, but what do you think he wants?"
"What?"
"To fight with swords."
"Swords?"
"Yes. Like the students do in German schools. Heads and body protected so you can't either be more than scratched. I think it's silly, but of course I said I'd tell you."
"That's right. Swords, eh? Well, with football helmets on, and a baseball chest protector, and heavy gloves, I guess it won't be dangerous. But what's the use of fighting if some one doesn't get hurt? I prefer my fists."
"Dutton's idea seems to be for you both to be rigged out as we are when we practice with broadswords on horses," said Paul, referring to one of the drills taught at the school.
"Well, I don't like to object," said Dick, "but it strikes me that as the challenged party, I have the choice of weapons."
"So you have. I forgot that. Then you don't want swords?"
"I'll tell you later. You can inform Dutton I'll fight him when and where he pleases, and that, as it's my right, I'll name the weapons when we meet."
"All right. Give him a good lesson, Dick."
Paul went off to carry the message, and Dick, seeing Miss Hanford, went up to her for the waltz. She gave him a place made vacant by the inability of her partner to claim her, as he was on the supper committee. Dick thought the girlseemed nervous and alarmed, but he did not speak of it.
The dance lasted until two o'clock in the morning, and then the guests began leaving. Dick was somewhat surprised to see Miss Hanford in apparently earnest conversation with grizzled Major Webster, but he concluded that she was only telling him what a good time she had had.
"Won't you call and see me sometime?" she asked Dick, as she bade him good-night.
"I will be pleased to," he said.
"And don't—don't have any quarrel with Captain Dutton," she said, with a little smile.
"Er—oh, no, I—I—er—I won't," was all Dick could stammer. He resolved that he would have no more quarrels, but it was too late to stop this one.
As the last of the guests were leaving, Paul sought out his roommate.
"The clump of trees, down by the lagoon," he whispered. "In an hour. What about weapons? Dutton wants to know."
"He'll have to wait. I'll bring them with me. It's my privilege."
A little later Dick went to his room, where he was busy for some time. When he emerged he was accompanied by Paul. He wore his long cape overcoat, and something bulged beneath it.
"I guess he'll be surprised," commented Paul.
The clump of trees, which Dutton had selected as the place for the duel, was located on a littlepoint of land that jutted out into the lake, and near a small lagoon. It was some distance from the academy buildings, and out of sight. The trees had kept most of the snow from the ground, and it was a sheltered place. As there was a full moon there was no need of other light.
As Dick and Paul approached the place they saw several dark figures moving about.
"They're on time," whispered Paul.
"Yes. I hope the Colonel doesn't hear of it."
As they drew nearer, Stiver stepped forward and said:
"Is your man ready, Drew?"
"All ready."
"Then we demand to know the weapons. My principal will object to pistols, as they make too much noise."
"My principal has the choice of weapons, as you know, and unless he is allowed to exercise it we must decline to fight."
Paul spoke as though it was very serious.
"I know, but, hang it all, man, we can't fight with pistols. We'd have the whole crowd down on us," objected Stiver, in some alarm.
"I'll not fight with pistols," put in Dutton, which was a wrong thing for a brave duelist to do.
"Don't be worried," replied Dickcoolly. "I have not selected pistols. But we are delaying too long. I am ready."
"So are we," said Stiver, but it was observed that his voice was not very steady. He was beginningto wish he had had nothing to do with this. It seemed to be getting serious, and he, as well as Dutton, wondered what Dick could be carrying under his overcoat.
"Take your places," said Paul.
"But the weapons," insisted Stiver.
"My principal will hand one to your principal as soon as he takes his place," went on Paul. "We seconds must retire to a safe distance."
"They—they aren't rifles, are they?" asked Stiver, and this time his voice was very shaky.
"They are not rifles," said Dick, somewhat solemnly. "Come, I can't stay here all night. I want to write an account of this to Miss Hanford."
"Don't you dare!" cried Dutton.
"Hush! Take your place," said his second.
Dutton approached Dick, and held out his hand to receive his weapon. Dick unfolded his coat and extended—not a sword or gun, but a big bladder, fully blown up, and tied to a short stick. He kept a similar one for himself.
"These are my weapons," he said.
"I won't fight with those! It's an insult! I demand satisfaction!" fairly shouted Dutton.
"Hush!" cried Stiver. "Someone is coming!"
But it was too late. Several figures could be seen running over the snow toward the duelists.