"Quick!Here comes Major Webster!" cried Stiver. There was no mistaking the soldierly figure who was approaching.
"And Colonel Masterly is with him!" added Paul.
"Some one has squealed!" added Dutton, but he seemed rather glad than otherwise that the duel had been interrupted.
"Cut for it!" said Dick. "Across the ice, and into the grove! We can get in the back way, and they won't know who it was out here."
"Say, if they were tipped off that something like this was going to take place, they know who was in it," said Paul, as he and Dick headed across the ice which covered the inlet at one side of the wooded point.
Dick thought of the conversation he had seen taking place between Miss Hanford and the major, and a light came to him.
"She must have overheard the talk about swords, and she got frightened," he said to himself. "That's how the major knew."
On came the dark figures over the snow, but the cadets had a good start. Across the ice they went, and were soon lost in the depths of a little grove of trees. From there they managed to gain the barracks.
"Queer they didn't call after us," said Dick, as he and Paul were safe in their room.
"That is sort of funny. Say, where's the other bladder?"
"Dutton must have it."
But Dutton didn't have it. He had dropped it as he ran, and Major Webster picked it up a little later on the dueling ground. The major held it out to Colonel Masterly.
"What's this?" asked the colonel.
"One of their weapons, I fancy."
"Then it was all a joke. What Miss Hanford told you about the duel, she must have dreamed."
"No, she says she overheard Dutton challenge Hamilton, and later on, some talk between Hamilton and Drew. She was very much frightened, and came and told me. Of course I know the cadets will fight once in a while. They wouldn't be any good if they didn't, and, though you and I know that it's against the rules, it's no more than you and I used to do. But when she spoke of swords I thought it time to take a hand."
"But they didn't have swords."
"Evidently not. Hamilton reserved to himself the choice of weapons, as the challenged party, she said, and it seems that he selected bladders."
"But why?"
"I fancy he wanted to teach Dutton a lesson. There is bad blood between them, I have heard in roundabout ways, and once Hamilton administered a good drubbing to Dutton."
"Hum! Well, I don't see that there is anything for us to do."
"No, only go to bed. I'm sleepy. The time was when I could stay up at a ball all night, and attend a duel at sunrise, but those days are past. I think we'd better say nothing about this."
"Just as you like, major. You are in charge of the cadets. But perhaps we had better let Miss Hanford know that there was no bloody conflict."
"I will. Poor little girl! She was quite worried."
So that was how the duel between Dick and Dutton turned out. It did not add to the good feeling between the two cadets. Dick would have been glad to be on friendly terms, but Dutton considered that he had been made the butt of a joke, and he hated Dick more than ever. He threatened to get even until Dick sent word to him that if he liked he would meet him with bare fists as weapons, and have the matter out. Dutton knew better than to agree to this.
Of course Larry Dexter heard about the duel, but at Dick's request the young reporter sent no account of it to his paper, which described the fancy dress ball at some length. Larry remainedDick's guest three days, and greatly enjoyed his visit to the academy.
In order to give the cadets a taste of as many varieties of military life as possible, and to show them that they could not always expect summer weather and sunny skies, Major Webster decided to have a winter practice march.
This was announced for a date late in January, and some novel features were to be incorporated. The cadets were to be divided into several small squads, and were to set off at different times from the academy, to reach a certain point ten miles distant, report there for dinner, and march back. Various routes were selected, with officers stationed at checking points, and the squad which made the best time was to receive a trophy.
As the ground was quite thickly covered with snow, and as certain landmarks, plainly visible in summer, were now obliterated, the march would prove no easy one. It was to be made on horses, and only the best riders were allowed to participate.
"That's the kind of a stunt I like," said Dick, the morning of the proposed winter march. "We'll have some fun to-day, Paul, old boy."
"Yes, if we don't get caught in a blizzard. It looks like snow."
"So much the better. That will make it all the harder. I wish I was going to lead a squad."
"I don't. Who is in charge of ours?"
"Allen Rutledge. He's a good rider. Well, it's almost time to start. Whew! But it's cold!"
Dick's squad, in charge of Captain Rutledge of the football team, was the third to start off. They set their horses into a gentle canter, as they knew they would need all the strength of the animals ere the day was over.
At first it was pleasant enough, moving along over the snow, but, as it grew colder, it was not quite so much fun. Still the lads did not complain, as they knew the training was good for them.
When they had gone about five miles some flakes of snow sifted lazily down from the gray, leaden clouds overhead.
"I guess we're going to be in for it before we get back," observed Captain Rutledge. "Close up the ranks, behind there. Don't straggle."
They kept to their route, were checked at the proper point by an officer, and then started for the turning station. This was a hotel in a small town ten miles from the academy, and glad enough the cadets were to reach it, and find a hot dinner waiting for them.
An hour was allowed for luncheon, and the feeding of the horses, and then the start back was made. This was the most difficult part of the march, as the way led through an uninhabited part of the country, at the edge of the mountain range, and the roads were seldom traveled, and not of the best.
About three miles from where they had dinner was another checking station. Dick's squad reached this in the midst of quite a snowstorm.
"I guess it will only be a squall," observed Rutledge, as he went in the house, where the checking officer was stationed, to report.
"A squall?" observed Dick. "If this doesn't keep up until we get back, and for some time after, I'm a Dutchman."
Rutledge came out of the house, followed by the checking officer, Captain Nelton. Both looked worried.
"We'll keep watch for them," said Rutledge as he prepared to vault into the saddle.
"Yes, I wish you would," said Captain Nelton. "They may have straggled behind, and lost the road. Have them join your squad if you see them."
"What's up?" asked Dick, for an air of familiar fellowship was permitted on the practice marches.
"Dutton and Stiver didn't report in with their squad, which is just ahead of ours," replied Rutledge. "We're to look out for them."
"Most likely they sneaked off to have a good time somewhere," said Dick in a low voice to Paul.
The pace was slower now, for the snow was deeper, and the horses were beginning to feel the strain of the long march. The flakes were fallingthicker and faster, and from the rear the leader of the squad could not be seen.
"Come, boys, close ranks!" called Rutledge several times. "If you stray off now you'll be in danger. Keep together."
They tried to, but some horses went better than others, and it was impossible for the stragglers to keep up with the leaders at all times. Rutledge saw this and called to Dick:
"Here, Hamilton, you and Drew are good riders. You take the rear, and keep it as close to me as you can. This storm is getting fierce."
It was almost a blizzard now, with the wind sobbing and moaning in the trees, and the white flakes cutting into one's face with stinging force.
"Take the next turn to the right," called Rutledge to Dick and Paul, as they wheeled their horses and started for the rear.
They heard faintly through the noise of the storm, and answered back. They succeeded for a time in keeping the end riders up toward the front, urging their somewhat jaded horses to a trot. Then, all at once, they found themselves out of sight of the tails of the end animals.
"Hit is up a little," suggested Dick to Paul. "They're leaving us."
They spurred their horses ahead, but they never noticed as they bent their heads to avoid the blast that they kept straight on, instead of taking the turn to the right, where the road divided. So fast was the snow falling, drifting as it did so,that the tracks of the horses just ahead of them were almost blotted out.
"They must be galloping," said Dick. "Come on, Paul."
They urged their wearied horses to a gallop, expecting soon to come within sight of the rear of the squad. But, as they went on and on, the road became more impassable. The snow was at least two feet deep now, and more was falling every minute.
"I can't see anything of them," said Paul, peering ahead into the white mist.
"Me either. Let's give a yell."
They called, but the echo was their only reply.
"Can you see any tracks?" asked Dick, leaning over in the saddle, and scanning the ground.
"No. Can you?"
"Not a one."
The lads straightened up, and looked at each other. Their steeds whinnied helplessly, complaining thus of the cold.
"Dick," said Paul, "I believe we've taken the wrong turn."
"I didn't see any turn to take. We've come a straight road."
"I don't believe so. Rutledge said something about turning to the right."
"I know he did, but I didn't see any turn."
"Neither did I, but we're certainly on the wrong road now. This hasn't been traveled this winter."
"Looks that way. Say, we've come up the side of the mountain. I wondered what made the horses so blown."
It needed but a glance to show that this was so. Unconsciously they had taken a path leading up the mountain, and they were now on what was evidently a wood-road, in the midst of a forest.
As they stood there, vainly starting about, there came a fiercer burst of the storm, and on the wings of a stinging, cold wind there came such a cloud of snow flakes that they could not see ten feet ahead of them.
"We're caught in a blizzard!" shouted Dick. "We must keep close together, Paul."
Throughthe blinding snow the two cadets tried to peer, in order to see which way they should take to get back to the academy. Neither of them was very familiar with the country, though they had been over part of it in drills and practice marches in the fall. But things wore a different aspect now.
"Which way had we better go?" asked Paul, after a pause. He had to shout to be heard above the noise of the gale.
"I guess the best plan is to keep down the mountain," replied Dick. "We'll strike a road sooner or later leading to Kentfield."
The horses did not like to face the blast, but the young cadets forced them about, and the unwilling steeds started down the slope.
Protected though they were by their heavy winter clothing and overcoats, the two lads felt the cold bitterly. But they were too plucky to give up. The horses could not be urged to more than a walk, and, indeed, faster pace was not safe, as they did not know what the snow might conceal.
As they went down the mountain side they kept a watch for the sight of any objects that would indicate a road, or tell them their whereabouts. But all they could see was an expanse of snow, a whirling, white cloud of flakes, with here and there the black trunks of trees standing up like grim sentinels.
"We might as well be a thousand miles from nowhere," called Dick.
"That's right," answered his companion. "I wonder if we're going straight?"
"Isn't much choice. We'll be on level ground in a little while, anyhow. Then the going will be better."
They emerged from the thickly wooded side of the big hill, and came upon a plain, which did not look familiar. It was open country, however, and this was better than being in the woods, though the cold wind had more of a sweep over it.
"Now, which way?" asked Paul. "I've lost all sense of direction."
"And I'm not much better. Suppose we let the horses go as they please? Maybe they'll have sense enough to head toward their stables."
"Good idea, we'll do it."
They let the reins hang loose on the necks of the animals. The steeds hesitated for a moment, sniffed the air, and then started off to the left.
"I hope that's right, but it doesn't seem so,"said Dick ruefully. "However, anything's better than standing still in this storm."
There was no let-up to the blizzard, which fairly enveloped the lads in its icy grasp.
They had traveled for perhaps a mile when Dick, who was a little in the lead, suddenly cried out:
"Hi, Paul! Here's a house, anyhow!"
"A house?"
"Yes. Straight ahead."
Paul looked through the whirling clouds of snow, and saw something dark looming up about thirty yards away.
"Maybe it's a barn," he said.
"Even that's all right; but where there's a barn there's most likely to be a house. I guess we're all right now."
Their horses stumbled on, over the uneven ground, and soon another big object loomed up through the snow.
"There's the house!" cried Dick. "Come on."
They managed to urge their horses to a trot, and, a few moments later, were knocking at the door of a large, white farmhouse. A pretty girl who opened it exclaimed:
"Come right in. I expect you're most frozen, aren't you?"
"Pretty nearly," replied Dick, as he entered with Paul.
They were soon near a warm fire, partaking of hot tea, though they declined the offer of somehard cider, an invitation slyly given by the farmer, who introduced himself as Enos Weatherby. His place was about eight miles from Kentfield, and, in the course of his talk, Dick and Paul learned that Captain Dutton and Lieutenant Stiver had been at the house a little while before, and had not refused the cider.
This was news to Dick, but he at once saw how matters stood. Dutton and his companion, he learned, knew the two daughters of the farmer, and had called on them during the practice march. It was on this account that they had not reported at the checking point. Probably they thought they could make a circuit, visit their friends, and join their squad in time to report at the academy, trusting to luck to explain their temporary absence.
They had been gone about an hour, Mr. Weatherby said, and he showed Dick and Paul the road they had taken, a short cut to the school.
"Ride down this road," explained the farmer, "cut across my big meadow, and you will come to the main highway. Keep along that until you come to the first cross road, turn to the left and you'll get to the road that leads around the lake. Then it's only a mile to the school. But you're welcome to stay all night. The storm is getting worse."
"Thank you, very much," replied Dick, "but we couldn't stay. Colonel Masterly would be worried about us. We'll take the short cut home.I guess they'll call the march a dead heat as far as picking a winner is concerned."
The girls added their entreaties to those of their father and Mrs. Weatherby, who had been busy at household duties, entered the dining room, to urge the cadets to remain, as she had plenty of room. But Dick and Paul would not.
There was obvious disappointment in the good-byes of the two girls, but Dick and Paul cared little for that, though the two Miss Weatherbys were rather pretty, even if they were a bit silly.
The two wayfarers thanked their hosts, and, feeling much refreshed and warmed, while the horses, too, had improved by the halt, they set off again.
The snow was not coming down so fast, but it was much colder, and they hastened on, anxious to get to the academy.
"Queer about Dutton, wasn't it?" asked Dick.
"It sure was," agreed Paul. "He'll get into trouble if he doesn't look out."
"Somehow he always seems to escape, but I s'pose he'll do it once too often. This must be where we turn."
"I guess so. Go ahead."
They turned into the big meadow, crossed it, and came out into a road that showed some signs of travel. It was deserted now, however, as the winter night was settling down.
"A few more miles, and then for a good, hot supper," commented Dick"Don't talk about it," said Paul. "It makes me hungry."
Suddenly his horse shied, and the cadet, looking to see what caused it, beheld a dark object, half buried in the snow, at the side of the road.
"What's that?" called Dick, who had dropped a little to the rear.
"I don't know. Better take a look."
Dick forced his rather unwilling steed up to the object. The next moment he uttered a cry.
"It's a man!" he exclaimed.
He leaped off his horse, and bent closely to the black, huddled mass. Then he reached over and took hold of it.
"Here, Paul!" cried Dick. "Help me!"
"What is it?"
"It's Dutton, and he's unconscious and half frozen. Must have fallen from his horse and struck on his head! We must get him to shelter in a hurry."
Paul was quickly at his companion's side. He helped Dick lift the unconscious youth from the pile of snow. Duttonseemedto be trying to say something, but though his lips moved no sound came from them.
"What's the matter? Are you hurt?" asked Dick. "How did it happen?"
Dutton murmured something, but the words "horse" and "Stiver" were all they could distinguish.
"Maybe he's only fainted," suggested Paul. "Rub some snow on his face."
Dick tried this, but it was evident that Dutton was semi-conscious from the effects of some injury.
"What shall we do?" asked Paul, who was not used to acting in emergencies.
"We've got to get him to the academy as soon as possible."
"Maybe we had better take him back to the Weatherbys. That's nearer."
"Yes, but they wouldn't know how to take care of him. He needs a doctor. No, what we've gotto dois to get him on my horse. He's stronger than yours, and can carry double. Then you ride on ahead and tell them to send a carriage."
Paul realized that this was the best thing to do, and the two, after some difficulty, hoisted Dutton to the back of Dick's steed. Then Dick mounted behind him, and, supporting in his arms the unconscious cadet, he set off through the snow. Paul galloped on ahead, urging his horse to a sharp gait, and made good time in reaching the academy.
There he found considerable confusion, and no little alarm, not only over the absence of Dutton, but over that of Dick and himself.
Paul quickly explained how he and his chum had become lost, and told how they had found Dutton. A carriage was at once sent out, and soon the injured lad was in the hospital, where anexamination showed that he was not badly hurt, having merely received a severe blow on the head.
"We feared something had happened when Dutton's horse came in without him," said Colonel Masterly. "Lieutenant Stiver said that he and Dutton became separated, after losing their way, and that he could not find him. So he came here to get help, and arrived just as Dutton's horse galloped in."
Dick told the colonel how he had found the young captain, but did not think it necessary to mention about the farmhouse and the two girls.
"I should have stopped the march when I saw that the weather was likely to be bad," the colonel said. "However, I am glad it is no worse."
Because of the incidents of the march it was called off, as far as a contest was concerned, and so no inquiry was made as to why Dutton and Stiver had failed to report at the checking point.
"I tell you what I think happened," said Paul, when he and Dick were discussing it in their room that night.
"Well, what?"
"I think Dutton and Stiver had more hard cider than was good for them. They must have quarreled, and Stiver left Dutton, who later fell from his horse. There was no excuse for them losing each other after they left Weatherby's house, and Dutton is too good a horseman to fall off, unless he couldn't take care of himself."
"Maybe you're right. I'm glad we found him, though."
"So am I, though I don't believe he'll treat you any better for saving his life."
"Oh, I don't know as I did that. Some one would have found him before he froze to death," said Dick.
Paul's idea of what had taken place between Dutton and Stiver seemed borne out by the coldness that sprang up between the two former cronies, as soon as Dutton could leave the hospital. He hardly spoke to the lieutenant of his company.
Nor was he specially cordial to our hero. In a stiff sort of fashion he thanked him for what he had done, but there was no semblance of real friendship, and Dutton's crowd did not take up with Dick, as they might, reasonably, have been expected to.
With the approach of spring the baseball fever began to stir in the veins of the cadets, and several nines were formed. Dick managed to get on a freshman team, much to his delight, for he was an excellent pitcher. Nor did the members of the nine regret their choice, for Dick pulled them out of several close games by his excellent twirling, which offset the errors made by his companions.
"Hurray!" yelled Paul Drew one afternoon, as he fairly jumped into the room which he and Dick shared.
"What's the matter?" askedhischum.
"Matter? Why, lots. You've passed, and so have I. We're going to be corporals from now on. That's for making good records in the spring examinations. Dutton and Hale are to be majors, I heard. I'm glad for Hale's sake, but it's going to be bad for us to have Dutton given so much authority."
"Why?"
"Because he'll lord it over us worse than ever. Well, it can't be helped. And there's more good news. Get up and have a war dance, you old buzzard!"
"Hold on!" cried Dick protestingly, as Paul yankedhimfrom the easy chair. "What's up?"
"Lots. We're going to camp!"
"Camp?"
"Yes; it's just been announced. We're to goand spend one week under canvas; with no lessons to worry about, and lots of chance to skylark and have fun."
"I guess there'll be instructions in tactics, and recitations, won't there?" asked Dick. "It won't be all pie."
"Oh, of course we'll have to do some studying, I think."
"Of course. We'll have to tell what we'd do if, leading a small force of men, we happened to meet with an overwhelming army in a mountain pass, hemmed in on every side."
"I'd surrender," said Paul, with a laugh.
"I wouldn't; I'd fight," said Dick grimly, and he squared his jaw after the manner of Grit, his bulldog.
"Oh, well, we'll have lots of sport," went on Paul. "Of course it's for military instruction we're going, but I think we can manage to slip in a good time now and again."
"Sure," replied Dick, his eyes brightening. "When do we go?"
"Day after to-morrow. Orders are to get our kits in shape. We're to go in light marching order. The tents and grub will be carried in a wagon."
"That's good. I hate to pack my house, and all I want to eat, on my back."
The two chums fell to discussing the pleasant prospects ahead of them, some of the freshman cadets in neighboring rooms dropping in occasionallyto get points on what to do and how to do it.
They were interrupted by a knock on Dick's door, and for a moment the buzz of voices ceased, as if the owners had been caught in some breach of the rules. Then, as the whistled strains of "In the Prison Cell I Sit," came to them, Dick exclaimed:
"It's Toots. Come on in, you old Horse Marine."
Toots entered, whistling a reveille with great precision.
"Major Webster wants to see you, Mr. Hamilton," he said, saluting.
"Me?" repeated Dick.
"Yes. In his office."
"You're in for a wigging," consoled Paul.
"Court martial for yours," added 'Gene Graham.
"No, I'm going to be promoted to take entire command of the camp," said Dick with a laugh as he went out. He had come nearer the truth than he thought in his jesting words. He saluted the major, who returned it, and bade him be seated.
"Ah, Hamilton, by the way, before I forget it, let me say that I haven't heard anything about that marksman's medal yet," said Major Webster, referring to the one that had fallen from the pocket of Toots. "When I hear anything I'll let you know. But that wasn't why I sent for you."
Dick thought it couldn't be anything serious, orthe major wouldn't have begun in this fashion, so he waited.
"I have been looking up your record, Hamilton," went on the old soldier, "and I am very much pleasedwith it. So much so, in fact, that I am going to promote you, temporarily, and give you a command."
Dick's heart began to beat rapidly.
"During this encampment," went on the major, "we wish the new cadets to get a good idea of the value of military training, and what this academy stands for. I think that by this plan of mine they will gain more knowledge in a week than they otherwise would in two months. Now I am going to take all the cadets who recently arrived and form them into two companies. One you will have entire charge of, as captain. The other I will select a captain for. Yours will be known as Number One Company, to distinguish it from the regular letteredcommandsI want you to give the freshmen as good an idea as you can of what a military life here means."
"What am I to do?" asked Dick.
"Take entire charge of them. See that they are shown everything, from how to load a gun, vault upon a horse, put up a tent, build a camp fire, mount guard and so on. At the end of the week's camp we are going to have a sham battle."
"A sham battle?"
"Yes, off in the woods. The cadets will bedivided into two armies, and we will play the war game just as the regulars and volunteers do. In a sense the lads in your care will be volunteers, and perhaps they will do better than the regular cadets. That part is up to you."
Dick resolved that if he could bring it about his company would gain some honors.
"Your command will be part of the fighting force in the sham battle," went on the major, "and it will depend on yourself how they behave. The rules of the sham battle will be announced later, but I want you to get ready for your shoulder straps," and he smiled at our hero.
"Well," thought Dick, as he left the major a little later, "I got to a captain's stripes before I knew it—but it won't last very long," he added, somewhat regretfully.
Dick thought ruefully that, even with this temporary promotion, he was hardly fulfilling the conditions of his mother's will. He was certainly not popular with the great body of students, and he began worrying lest he be sent to his Uncle Ezra. As he walked back to his room, he recalled a letter he had received from his father that day, stating that Mr. Hamilton would remain abroad longer than he had originally planned.
"It doesn't look as if I was going to make good," thought Dick, gloomily, as he entered his apartment.
"What was it?" asked his chums eagerly, as he came back.
Dick told them.
"A sham battle!" cried Paul. "That's the stuff! Hold me down, somebody, or I'll stand on my head, and if I do I'll split my new uniform. Hold me, somebody, do."
"I will," volunteered 'Gene Graham, and he obligingly tilted Paul up, so that he turned a neat summersault over his bed.
"I guess that'll hold you for a few moments," observed Stanley Booker. "Now tell us more about it, Dick."
Which the young millionaire proceeded to do.
Never was there such excitement in Kentfield academy as when it became known that, in addition to the camp there was to be a sham battle. On every side was heard talk of ambuscades, skirmishing parties, rear attacks, retrograde movements, waiting for reinforcements, deploys and bases of supplies.
Dutton sneered openly when he heard of Dick's promotion.
"I suppose he thinks he'll do wonders with those freshies," he said. "Maybe he hopes he'll win the battle by coming up with them as reinforcements."
"Well a small force has turned the tide more than once, Dutton," Allen Rutledge reminded him.
"I don't think Hamilton can do it, though," was the reply of the bully.
The start for camp was made on a bright,sunny morning, and the line of cadets, in field uniforms, with their guns over their shoulders, the sun glinting from the polished barrels, made an inspiring picture.
"Isn't this glorious?" said Dick to Paul, near whom he was marching.
"Silence in the ranks!" snapped Major Dutton, though there was no need for the command.
Forwardmarched the cadets, keeping step to the lively air of the fifes, and the accompanying rattle and boom of the drums. But regular formation and step were not maintained for long, only until the young soldiers were on the main road, when they were allowed to break step, and proceed as they pleased, the companies, however, keeping together.
It was an all day's tramp to camp, and they stopped midway on the road for lunch, the baggage wagons having been halted while the regular cooks of the academy, who had been taken along, prepared the meal.
"Wait until we get the tents up," said Dick, "then we'll have some fun. Nothing like life under canvas in the summer."
"Right, Captain Dick," replied Paul, trying to talk with part of a chicken sandwich in his mouth. Dick had not yet assumed his new command, but would as soon as camp was pitched.
They got to the place about five o'clock, and found that the tents had been unloaded from thewagons, and that the cooks had their white shelter already set up, and were preparing supper.
"Now, boys," said Major Webster, "I want to see how soldierly you can do things. You have had considerable practice in putting up tents, at least you older cadets have; now let's see how you have profited by your instruction."
In a short time the scene was one of great activity. Cadets were straightening out folds of canvas, laying out ropes, driving in tent pegs and, in less than half an hour, where there had been a green field, it was now dotted with spotless white peaked-roof houses of canvas.
"Very well done," complimented Colonel Masterly, who came out of the headquarters tent to look at the sight. "Very fine, indeed, major."
"Yes, I think they did well."
The next work was to dig a trench about each tent so that rain water could not settle about it, and this was quickly accomplished. This done the camp had a fine appearance, the tents being arranged in rows or company "streets."
By this time supper was announced, and the way the cadets put away the good things which the cooks had provided made those servants open their eyes. They were used to hungry boys eating, but they almost forgot to allow for the extra appetites created by work in the open air. It was some time since a general camp had been held at the academy.
After guard mount, sentinels were posted andorders given that no cadet would be allowed to leave camp. In spite of this some of Dutton's crowd, including himself, ran the guard that night and were nearly caught. However, this was to be expected, and it was considered no great crime.
The next day Dick was given charge of forty freshmen, and he took great delight in starting their instruction. There were drills to attend, lessons in tactics to learn, the best method to observe on a march, and illustrations given in artillery firing, for several field pieces had been brought along to use in theshambattle.
Cavalry exercises occupied a part of every day, and though the cadets had plenty of leisure they found that their time was pretty fully occupied, for Colonel Masterly and his staff wanted practical benefit to be derived from the camp life. Target practice in the open proved to many a cadet who had done well on the ranges that he had plenty yet to learn.
"I wish they'd hurry up and have that sham battle," remarked Paul to Dick one night. "Heard anything about it?"
"It takes place to-morrow," replied our hero. "Blank ammunition will be served out the first thing in the morning, and final instructions given. My company is to form part of the attacking party."
"That's good. I wonder where my bunch will be stationed? I wish I was an officer."
"It will come in time. You're to be on the defense, I believe. So is the company of freshmen that Foraker has charge of."
"Well, it won't make much difference. I'll not fire on you, if I can help it."
"That's good."
The plan for the sham battle was announced the next morning, after each cadet had been supplied with many rounds of blank cartridges. The young soldiers were divided into two equal commands. Somewhat to Dick's disgust Major Dutton was given charge of the attacking party, of which the millionaire's son and his young lads formed a part. Harry Hale, the football coach, who had also been elected a major, was to be on the defensive. The latter army was to occupy a wooded hill, back of the camp. At the foot of it ran a small stream, and to get at the defenders of the mound the attacking party would have to build a temporary bridge, which work was included in the instruction imparted at the academy.
To cover this operation, the artillery of the attacking party would be brought up, but, at the same time, the field pieces of the defenders might pour a devastating fire on the bridge builders from above.
The holders of the hill were to be stationed at the rear limits of it, while the attackers were to start their march about two miles from the foot of the slope. It was figured out that if the defenders could bring up their artillery, and otherforces, and attack the enemy before a bridge could be built across the stream, the holders of the hill would win the battle. On the other hand, if the attackers could succeed in getting a body of cadets across the stream before a heavy artillery or rifle fire could be poured into them, they would win. The promptness of firing, the number of shots and general quickness were to count.
At the appointed time, Major Hale and his force took possession of the hill, and Major Dutton led his army two miles back, on the plain in front of it.
Dutton issued his orders.
"We'll try to surprise them," he said to his young officers. "We'll swing around in a half circle, and instead of building the bridge at the easiest place to cross the stream we'll try it farther down. They won't suspect that we'll come there, and we'll gain some time."
"But they'll have their pickets out," observed Russell Glen. "They'll see us."
"I'll send some of you to another point to pretend to build a bridge," decided Dutton. "That'll draw their fire, and they'll start their artillery toward that place. Before they find out that it's only a bluff we'll have the real bridge half done."
As the cadets had a record of building a thirty-foot bridge of the "A" style inside of four minutes, it seemed that Dutton's plan might be a good one.
"How are you going to carry the planks andspars for the bridge?" asked Glen. "On the field piece carriages?"
"No, we'll carry them ourselves. We can close up ranks so they won't see the boards."
This looked like a good plan, and the cadets made ready to carry it out.
"Hamilton," said Dutton sharply to our hero, "you'll take the rear guard, and stay there until you get orders to come up."
This was rather hard on Dick. It practically put him and his freshmen out of the battle, unless Dutton should order them to the front, and he was not very likely to do this. Still Dick could not object, and he made the best of it.
"Won't we see any of the fighting?" asked one of his command.
"Maybe so," replied the young millionaire. "They may need us for reinforcements."
Dick could not help but give Dutton credit for making his plans well. The young major led his men to the designated point, taking advantage of such inequalities of the ground as there were to conceal his movements. The ropes, beams and planks for the bridge were distributed among the cadets, several of them being required to carry the heavier pieces. The strongest lads were used for this work, and their rifles were taken in charge by their less-burdened comrades.
Then, when all was in readiness, Dutton gave the command to advance. He led the way, at the head of a company of infantry, while back ofthat came his cavalry force, and to the rear of that was massed his artillery, while Dick led the rear guard of freshmen.
Straight at the hill advanced the attacking army, while from convenient points Colonel Masterly and his staff of officers watched to decide who won.
"Skirmishers, advance!" ordered Dutton, and several cadets detached themselves from the cavalry and rode forward. As they approached there were puffs of white smoke from the slope of the hill, and the sharp crack of rifles announced that the pickets of Major Hale's force were on the alert. The skirmishers returned the fire, and then galloped back to report.
"They're waiting for us," Dutton was informed.
"So I see," he replied. "Now, then, we'll halt here a moment. You fellows that are to pretend to build the bridge, get ready to rush when I give the word. I'll send one field piece as if to cover your movements. Are you all ready there, Stiver?" for Lieutenant Stiver, with whom Dutton had again gotten on friendly terms, was to lead the fake movement.
"All ready," was the answer.
"Then go!"
Out from the attacking force rushed a squad of cadets, bearing light planks. Of course, from the hill, it looked as if they were the advance guard of bridge builders. Particularly whenthere dashed out a field piece, drawn by galloping horses.
As the cadets approached the bank of the stream, and began to arrange their planks, the lads in charge of the cannon quickly wheeled it, unlimbered and fired the first shot. There was a white puff of smoke, a burst of flame, and a great bang went rattling and echoing among the hills. The battle had opened.
As Dutton had expected, his ruse deceived Hale. The latter quickly ordered up his entire artillery to shell the intrepid bridge builders. Dutton, watching through a field glass, saw the approach of the cannon.
"Forward march!" he cried to his maincommand. "Double quick!"
Quickness was everything now. Off they started, the real bridge builders and nearly his entire force, including Dick and his youngsters in the rear.
They circled around a turn in the stream, and, for a time, were out of sight of the small force left to bear the attack.
"Build the bridge here!" ordered Dutton. "Lively now, boys. See if you can't break the record."
The cadets needed no urging. Two of them quickly plunged into the stream, and, partly swimming, partly wading, carried over some ropes. By means of these they pulled over spars and planks, which, when several of their companionshurriedly joined them, they proceeded to lash together. The same operation was going on among the cadets on the other side of the brook.
Two long spars were laid down on the ground, at right angles to the stream. At the further extremity of these spars a cross piece was lashed, projecting on either side. Ropes were attached to the projections, and the unconnected ends of the long spars, being held down to the ground by several lads, the others quickly raised the connected ends, just as a painter hoists a long ladder. The same thing took place on the farther side of the brook, and, when both squads were ready, the two parts of the bridge that were to form the two slanting sides of a double letter "A" were allowed to incline toward each other, from either side of the water, cadets having hold of the ropes, regulating and guiding the long spars. The big sticks met in mid air, over the centre of the stream, and, being well braced at the bottom, held. Then cadets climbed up on either side, and united them more firmly by lashing them.
Something like a double letter "A," but without the cross piece, now spanned the brook. Or, perhaps, it would be more correct to say that it was a double inverted "V." It was necessary to put on cross spars, and lay planks on these, or the artillery and cavalry could not get over. And, as there were no spars long enough to reach all the way across the stream, two sections had tobe used on either side of the bridge. They were to be tied together, and supported at the centre, or place of joining, by long ropes, attached to the apex of the letter "A."
Though up to this time the main attacking party had not been fired on, they could not hope to escape much longer. Already puffs of white smoke from the hillside indicated that they had been seen by pickets. A minute later Dutton's trick was discovered, and Hale ordered his artillery to cease firing on the fake bridge builders, and to turn their attack on the others.
But Dutton was ready for this. He had his field pieces in position, and, as soon as he saw that his soldiers had the bridge well under way, he began shelling the defenders, who were rushing down the hill to the attack. The infantry also began to pour in a withering fire.
The ropes, by which the long spars had been lowered and inclined across the stream, now served as guys to hold them steady and in place, while the floor beams were being put in position.
"Lively!" cried Dutton. "They're making it too hot for us! We must cross soon, or we'll lose! They came at us quicker than I expected!"
Meanwhile the little force that had started to build the fake bridge had (theoretically) been killed.
Now the long floor timbers were in place, being supported at the centre by long ropes, hangingfrom the point of the "A," and the cadets were beginning to lay cross planks on them.
"Tell the cavalry to get ready to advance, to protect our crossing," ordered Dutton, to one of his captains, and the troop of lads on their restless steeds prepared to rush across the bridge at the first possible moment. It had only been a little over three minutes since the building of the structure was started, but a heavy artillery fire was being concentrated on the attackers, and, in accordance with instructions previously given, cadets began dropping out, being supposed to be killed.
Dutton's field pieces were pounding away, and there was a thick cloud of smoke, which partly concealed the movements of his cadets.
"Bridge is ready, major!" reported a smoke-begrimed lad, running up, and saluting. Then he hastened back to continue firing on Hale's soldiers.
"Advance, cavalry!" shouted Dutton. "Lively now! Charge!"
The horses, urged on by their shouting riders, thundered over the frail bridge. It trembled and swayed, but it supported them.
"Forward, the infantry!" cried the young major. "On the double quick! Here they come down the hill at you! Fire at will! Charge!"
Down the slope of the hill came rushing the defenders. Behind them thundered and rumbledtheir artillery, which was supporting their brave advance in the face of the enemy.
"Artillery, forward!" shouted Dutton, waving his sword, and hoping, by throwing his entire force suddenly upon Hale's army, to overpower it, and get in more shots than could his opponent. That meant he would win the battle.
"Shall I stay here?" cried Dick, for he had received no orders what to do with his force, and was still on the farther side of the bridge.
"Yes! Until I send for you, or you see that you are needed," called back Dutton. "I guess I can get along without you."
Louder roared the cannon; and the cracks of the rifles of the infantry, and the carbines of the cavalry, was like the explosion of pack after pack of giant firecrackers.
Then something happened. As the three field pieces rumbled across the bridge, there was an ominous cracking and splintering sound. Dutton heard it and turned back from his rush, which he had started on to be in readiness to lead the charge of his artillery. He saw the bridge swaying.
"Come on! Come on!" he cried, waving his sword. "Come on!"
But it was too late. The middle supporting ropes had slipped, and the bridge collapsed at the centre, letting horses, cannon and cadets down into the stream, which, fortunately, was not deep.
Dutton had, at one blow, lost all his artillery,while Hale's was advancing toannihilatehim and his force. The boom of the defenders' field pieces sounded nearer and nearer, while their rifle fire became hotter than ever.
Dutton saw himself defeated by the inopportune collapse of the bridge, which had been insecurely lashed together. But he would not give up.
"Forward! Forward!" he cried. "Split up and attack 'em on both sides."
His cavalry and infantry rushed forward, firing as they ran. Dick Hamilton, left with his little body of troops on the other side of the stream, saw his opportunity.
"Quick!" he cried to his lads. "We'll go back and get the guns at the fake bridge. Then we'll pull it across and we'll see if we can execute a flank movement."
"That's the stuff!" cried some of the lads, who had begun to fear they would never get a chance to fire their rifles.
Dick led his men on the double quick to where the field piece, from which only a few shots had been fired, had been left. He saw a chance to turn defeat into victory.
Duttonwas desperate when he saw the most efficient arm of his little force thus wiped out. He did not turn back to help the cadets in charge of the horses and guns, however, as he knew they could look after themselves.
And this they did, though they had to cut the traces to get the horses loose from the guns, and then haul the field pieces out by hand. This took some time, and when the cannon were safe on the other shore they could not be used because the harness was cut and the horses could not pull them. Besides the guns had turned over and the working parts were all wet.
But Major Dutton had not yet given up. He divided his cavalry and infantry into two divisions, giving Captain Beeby charge of one, and taking the other himself.
Dutton took advantage of a little hollow which, for a few moments hindered the advance of the defenders, to execute this move, and he hoped to be able to turn the flank of Hale.
"Make as wide a swing as you can," he advised Beeby, "and maybe you can get to him before we have to give up," for according to the rules of the sham battle about half of Dutton's force was now wiped out. It showed his spirit when he was unwilling to send for Dick's reinforcements, but he decided he would not owe victory to the lad he hated, if he could help it.
Beeby got well away with his cadets before Hale and his forces appeared around a little mound on the big hill. Then, though it was hard work to handle his artillery there, the major of the defenders made a stand and gave pitched battle to the contingent led by Dutton.
For a time the fight waged furiously, but it was unequal, as Dutton had no cannon with which to reply to the bombardment he was suffering. Nor could his cavalry advance to good advantage up the slope, while Hale's had no difficulty in coming down.
"Now, if Beeby would only get there," thought Dutton, "we might win yet!"
Alas for his hopes! Hale had suspected some such movement, and had held back a reserve force. Skirmishers saw Beeby advancing through the woods, and gave the alarm. Then Hale brought up a field piece he had not yet used, and opened fire on Beeby's contingent, which Dutton hoped would have saved him. There was no help for it. He was on the point of ordering a retreat, as the only way of saving a part of hisforce. Still he had a considerable number of cadets left, and they had plenty of ammunition.
Meanwhile Dick and his freshmen cadets had not been idle. Under his directions they unhitched the six horses from the cannon, and, by attaching ropes to the piece they pulled it across the stream on a raft they improvised from the boards used to construct the fake bridge. Thus the piece was saved from getting wet. The fake bridge builders, who had (theoretically) been killed, offered no objection. They could take no further part in the battle.
"Who are the best riders?" asked Dick, and several lads modestly offered themselves.
"You'll be the cavalry," said the young commander. "You are only six, but you'll do for what I want, which is mostly bluff."
He gave the artillery horses to six lads, and bade them ride across the stream, which they easily did.
"Wade and swim for the rest of us," said Dick grimly. "Hold your rifles above your heads, for, though the cartridges are water-proof, it doesn't do the mechanism of a gun any good to get it wet. Lively now. We'll be too late if we don't hurry. They're keeping up quite a heavy artillery fire."
The eager cadets needed no urging. They crossed the stream in good order, not being observed by either Dutton's force, or by thedefendersof the hill. On the other side Dick looked forthe easiest and best way of climbing the hill, and going to Dutton's aid.
He saw a sort of trail leading up, and, from the direction of the firing, he knew that he could, if undiscovered, take Hale on his left flank, Beeby having tried to turn the right unsuccessfully, though Dick did not know this then.
It was hard work urging the horses up the steep hill, and harder still for the cadets to drag up the field piece, and the limber filled with ammunition, little of which had been used. But they did it, and on they went.
Dick, coming out on a little projection, could see the battle in progress between Dutton and Hale. The latter had all but won, and the attackers were fast being driven back. They were a mere handful of cadets now, many having been "killed" by the merciless fire. Being "killed" in theory meant that a certain number had to drop out every minute, and could take no further part in the battle. Of course Hale had a number of soldiers "killed" also.
"Hurry!" cried Dick to his lads. "We're only just in time. A little farther and we'll plant the field piece and open fire. Then we'll charge down."
The lads dragged the cannon a few hundred feet farther up the hill. Then, screening it behind some bushes, Dick told off a number of cadets to work the gun, they having had previous practice.
"Ready!" he called, and to the surprise of Hale, no less than that of Dutton, the woods echoed to the report of artillery where none was supposed to be. A white puff of smoke on Hale's left flank told him that some movement was in progress over there. He was about to order one of his guns to reply to the unexpected bombardment, when there came a ringing shout from the same quarter, and, above the cheer, Dick Hamilton yelled:
"Charge!"
Down upon the all but victorious defenders of the hill rushed the little force of six cavalrymen. Behind them, leading about thirty cadets, who were as fresh as daisies, came Dick.
"Charge! Charge!" he yelled, and then he ordered the lads to open fire.
They did it with a will, for they had not had a chance to use their guns yet, and they were wild to do so.
What a fire they poured into the ranks of the defenders. How the one lone field piece, well screened by bushes, sent shell after shell (theoretically) screaming into the midst of the enemy.
Hale was all but demoralized. He had seen victory just within his grasp, and now he was attacked by fresh reinforcements. Dutton had been too much for him, after all, he thought.
As for Dutton, he hardly knew what to make of it. He could not understand how Dick had been able to lead up his forces, to execute a successfulflank movement, and, above all, to bring a field piece to bear.
Hale was now in desperate straits. Encouraged by seeing reinforcements Dutton's men turned with cries of gladness to renew the attack. Hale tried to reply to them, but his ammunition was getting low. Closer in came Dick and his lads, pressing on Hale's flank. On the other side Beeby, with the few cadets he had left, returned to the attack. In front Dutton and a handful of soldiers poured in a fire. But Dick's was the fiercest, aided as it was by the cannon.
There was nothing for Hale to do but to retreat, and he had his bugler sound this mournful call. Up the hill he and his men went—what was left of them—while after them rushed Dick, now leading the attack.
"Surrender! Surrender!" cried Dutton. "We've got you!"
"I guess you have," admitted Hale. "But if Hamilton hadn't come when he did there'd been a different story."
Dutton did not reply, nor did he glance at Dick, who, seeing that the battle was over, had ordered his command to cease firing. But, though Major Dutton did not acknowledge that Dick had saved the day, he knew it, and so did his men.
Major Webster, however, did not withhold his praise.
"Hamilton, you did splendidly!" he cried enthusiastically. "That was a master stroke toford the stream, take the gun over, and use the horses for cavalry. Major Dutton, thanks to Captain Hamilton, your forces have the honor of having won the sham battle. I congratulate you. I am proud of my cadets, even the losers."
"Three cheers for Major Hale!" called Dutton, who was politic, if a bully.
The camp rang with the shouts.
"Now three cheers for Major Dutton!" called Hale, and the huzzahs were louder than before, for Dutton had a magnetic attractiveness in spite of his mean ways with those whom he did not like.
"Three cheers for Captain Hamilton!" called Paul Drew, but, though Dick's freshmen nearly yelled the tops of their heads off, the cheer for our hero was noticeably weaker than either of the two preceding ones.
Dick smiled grimly, but he knew he had done good work that day.