Betty at Fort Blizzard Part 12

With that Gully made a physical examination of Kettle, and declared that no surgeon who ever lived would turn down such a magnificent specimen of robust manhood as Kettle.

All this was very disheartening to Kettle but seemed of great interest to Sergeant Halligan and his side partner, Sergeant Gully, and also to the orderly, who grinned sympathetically with the two sergeants.

"I say," said Sergeant Gully, "there's nothing doing here this morning and I'll just leave the orderly in charge and step in with you and introduce Private Pickup to the drill sergeant. The sergeant is a honey, but the bees don't know it."

Then, with Sergeant Halligan on one side of him and Sergeant Gully on the other, Kettle started across the plaza in the clear morning light for the great riding hall. By this time Kettle was thoroughly alarmed.

The sight of the cla.s.s in riding, smart young privates, marching gaily into the drill hall, made Kettle feel very uneasy about the riding.

"How 'bout the milkman's hoss?" asked Kettle anxiously.

"The milkman's horse? The milkman's horse?" sniffed Sergeant Halligan, "D'ye think I'm an infernal fool to put such a proposition up to the orficer in charge of mounts? He'd kick me full of holes if I did."

"But I say," replied Kettle, spurred by fear, "you is a deceiver, suh--a deceiver, and I'm a'goin to tell the Kun'l on you and he'll do for you--that he will."

"Look-a-here, Solomon Ezekiel Pickup," shouted Sergeant Halligan savagely, "it's against the regulations to talk to your superior orficers so d.a.m.ned impudent, and I'm a going to prefer charges against you, and you can face three months in the military prison for it. And I'm a-thinkin' that Briggs, the drill sergeant, will put you on the kickingest horse in the regimental stables. Sergeant Gully here says the drill sergeant is a honey, but he's awful mistaken. I've known Briggs ever since we was rookies together, and he's a cruel man, and has caused the death of several rookies by his murderin' ways."

Just then the three came face to face with Sergeant McGillicuddy. In those days McGillicuddy's honest face was gloomy and he had not much spirit for jokes, but he laughed when Sergeant Halligan explained to him that Sergeant Gully had enlisted Kettle and had pa.s.sed him both mentally and physically, and that he was then on his way to take his first lesson in riding.

Sergeant McGillicuddy went his way, laughing, for once in a blue moon, and Kettle, marching between the two sergeants, felt like a prisoner on his way to execution.

Arrived at the great drill hall, now dim and silent except for a batch of recruits, and Briggs, the drill sergeant, a trooper brought in Corporal, a handsome sorrel, and the model of a trained cavalry charger. The trooper at the same time handed the Sergeant a long whip.

Corporal, the charger, understood as well as any trooper in the regiment what the crack of the whip meant, from walk, trot, to gallop.

As Kettle appeared, almost dragged in by the two sergeants, a grin went around among the young recruits, ruddy-skinned and clear-eyed youngsters, well set up and worthy to wear the uniform of their country.

A whispered conversation followed among the three sergeants and although Kettle was not in uniform as the other recruits were, Sergeant Briggs, for a reason imparted to him by Sergeant Halligan, called out to Kettle:

"Here, Pickup, you get up, and you stay up, and if you don't you'll get a whack up!"

This pa.s.sed for a witticism to the recruits, who made it a point to laugh at all the drill sergeant's jokes. Kettle, with much difficulty, managed to climb on Corporal's back and crouched there in a heap.

Corporal turned his mild intelligent eyes toward Sergeant Briggs, as much as to say:

"What kind of a fool have I got on my back now?"

"Take the reins and let her go, Gallagher!" said the sergeant with a crack of his whip.

Corporal, seeing his duty, did it. He started off in a brisk walk around the tanbark, and in twenty seconds he heard another crack, and still another, which sent him into a hard gallop. As the horse quickened his pace, Kettle dropped the reins, and grasping Corporal around the neck, hung on desperately as the horse sped around the great ellipse. At a word from Sergeant Briggs, the horse stopped and walked sedately to the middle of the hall. Kettle slipped off and staggered to his feet.

[Ill.u.s.tration: Kettle dropped the reins, and grasping Corporal around the neck, hung on desperately.]

"Good Gord A'mighty," he groaned, to Sergeant Briggs, "I k'yarn' ride that air hoss, Mr. Briggs, and I ain't a goin' to, neither. Miss Betty, she tole me the way to surve my country wuz to look after the baby and her, so I'm jes' goin' to resign from the army and go home, 'cause it's scrub day."

"You go to the orficer of the day, and report yourself under arrest,"

promptly replied Briggs. "His office is in the headquarters building and he'll straighten you out, I'm thinkin'."

Kettle started off cheerfully enough, but instead of going to the headquarters building he made a bee line for the C. O.'s house, where he at once took off his coat and went down on his knees to scrub the pantry. Two hours afterward, when the drill sergeant's work was done in the riding hall and he discovered that Kettle had not reported himself to the officer of the day, the sergeant walked over to the C.

O.'s house and sent in a respectful request to see the commanding officer.

"Come in, Sergeant," called out Colonel Fortescue, sitting at his desk.

"Beg your pardon, sir," said the Sergeant, once inside, "but I have come to you privately, to tell you about your man, known as Kettle. He came into the riding hall this morning, and Sergeant Gully and Sergeant Halligan said he enlisted. Of course, I know, sir, they couldn't enlist him, but I'm afraid I helped 'em on with the joke. Anyhow, I made him get on a horse, and it would have broke your heart, sir, to see such riding! Then he got sa.s.sy, and I told him, just to get rid of him, to report himself under arrest, but n.o.body hasn't seen him since."

At that moment, the new recruit was seen pa.s.sing the window, and wearing blue over-alls, in which he did scrubbing. The Colonel tapped on the window and Kettle came in by the office entrance.

"What's this, Solomon, about your being saucy to Sergeant Briggs?"

asked Colonel Fortescue, sternly.

"Well, suh, I enlisted," answered Kettle, promptly, "an' I done resigned. I tole that there Briggs man so, and lef' the drill hall and come home, 'cause it was scrub day."

"Three days in the guardhouse," thundered the Colonel, in a voice terrible to Kettle.

Sergeant Briggs, touching his cap, walked out, Kettle following him.

At the door stood Mrs. McGillicuddy holding in her arms the After-Clap, in all his morning freshness, his little white fur cap and coat showing off his eyes and hair, so dark, like his mother's. The After-Clap gave a spring which he meant to land him in Kettle's arms, but Kettle, bursting into tears, would not take him.

"I k'yarn' take you now, honey," cried Kettle, wiping his eyes, "I'm a goin' to the guardhouse, my lamb, for three days and maybe I never see you no mo'."

The baby seemed to think this might be true, and set up a series of loud shrieks.

"Do you mean to say as you've tried to enlist?" cried Mrs.

McGillicuddy, struggling with the baby and her astonishment and indignation all at once. "The idea of you being a soldier! It beats the band, it does!"

Sergeant Briggs, without giving Kettle time to explain further, marched him off, and Mrs. McGillicuddy went to report to Mrs. Fortescue, while Sergeant McGillicuddy appeared to report to Colonel Fortescue.

"I believe, sir," said the Sergeant confidentially, "as it's a crooked business about the naygur's wantin' to enlist. Gully and Sergeant Halligan was jokin', but it's mighty risky jokin' with the regulations."

So thought Sergeant Halligan and Sergeant Gully, when confronted with the Colonel. As they were two of the best sergeants in the regiment, the Colonel satisfied himself with a stern reprimand, which was not entered against them. But having sentenced Kettle to three days in the guardhouse for insolence to Sergeant Briggs, Colonel Fortescue thought it well to let the sentence stand.

Colonel Fortescue, in spite of being the commanding officer at one of the finest cavalry posts in the world, and whose word was law, could yet be made to feel domestic displeasure. The family at once divided itself into two camps, one on the Colonel's side and one on Kettle's.

Anita, of course, sided with her father, and declared he had done perfectly right about Kettle, as he did about everything. Sergeant McGillicuddy was also a faithful adherent of the Colonel's in the wordless warfare that prevailed in the commanding officer's house for the three days in which Kettle enjoyed the hospitality of the guardhouse.

"Served the naygur right for sa.s.sing a sergeant," was Sergeant McGillicuddy's view. On the other side was arrayed, of course, Mrs.

Fortescue, who outwardly observed an armed neutrality, but who called the Colonel "John" during the entire three days of Kettle's imprisonment. Colonel Fortescue retaliated by calling Mrs. Fortescue "Elizabeth."

There were frequent references, in the Colonel's hearing, to "Poor Kettle," and the After-Clap was not rebuked in his insistent demand for "my Kettle, I want my Kettle! Where is my Kettle?"

At intervals, from the time he waked in the morning until Mrs.

McGillicuddy put him in his crib at night, the After-Clap was screaming for Kettle, and as the baby was extremely robust, his shrieks and wails for Kettle were clearly audible to the Colonel, sitting grimly in his private office, or at luncheon, or having his tea in the drawing-room.

Colonel Fortescue, however, spent most of his time during those three days at the headquarters building or the officers' club. As for Mrs.

McGillicuddy, she was openly on the side of Kettle and against the Colonel, and shrewdly surmised exactly what had happened about the enlistment, and also that Sergeant McGillicuddy was implicated with the other two sergeants in the outrage. Mrs. McGillicuddy boldly propounded this theory to Mrs. Fortescue while the latter was dressing for dinner on the first evening of Kettle's incarceration. The Colonel, in the next room, going through the same process of dressing, could hear every word through the open door.

"It's Patrick McGillicuddy that had a hand in it, mum," said Mrs.

McGillicuddy wrathfully. "He's been takin' rises out of the naygur, as he calls Kettle, for twenty years, and he seen Sergeant Gully and Sergeant Halligan draggin' poor Kettle along to the riding hall. I seen Kettle when he run out, and McGillicuddy was a standin' off, a-laffin' fit to kill himself, and I know that Gully and Halligan has been jokin' Kettle and makin' him believe he has enlisted in the aviation corps and will have to go flyin', and Kettle's scared stiff."

"Poor Kettle," said Mrs. Fortescue softly, clasping her pearls about her white throat. "It's been a sad day to all of us, except the Colonel. Of course, I never attempt to criticise Colonel Fortescue's professional conduct, but I do feel lost without Kettle."

"Well, mum," replied Mrs. McGillicuddy, "I haven't been a sergeant's wife for twenty years without findin' out that n.o.body can't say a word about the orficers, but I do think, mum, as three days in the guardhouse for poor Kettle, who was bamboozled by Tim Gully and Mike Halligan, is one of the cruelest things a commandin' orficer ever done.

Not that I'm a-criticisin' the Colonel, mum--I wouldn't do such a thing for the world."

"Nor would I," replied Mrs. Fortescue meekly, and fully conscious of the Colonel's presence in the next room, shaving himself savagely, "but three days for such a little thing does seem hard."