On Guard Part 5

It was No. 2. The room rang with shouts of confusion; cadets stared and ran hastily about; women cried out in alarm.

Boom!

It was No. 3, and at the same instant from a hundred throats came the dreaded cry of "Fire!"

Three guns is West Point's fire alarm. Quick as a flash, before the audience had time to think of flight, of panic, the commandant of cadets sprang to the platform.

"Company fire battalion form on the street outside, immediately!"

At the same moment, in response to a command from outside, a drum orderly sounded the "long roll." The band struck up a quick march, and tramp, tramp, tramp, the grave cadets marched out of the hall, forgetting friends and entertainment, forgetting everything in the one important thought--discipline--obedience to orders.

And in half a minute more the gymnasium was empty; the street was crowded with the anxious audience, and the battalion was tramping steadily across the parade ground in a vain search for an imaginary fire.

In that battalion were seven wildly delighted plebes. They hugged themselves for joy; they gasped, choked with repressed laughter. They punched each other in the ribs and whispered:

"Didn't we do it? Oh, didn't we do it? Three cheers for the Banded Seven--B. B. J.!"

The fire, of course was not found. Near camp the corps halted, to wait for the person who fired the alarm guns to come out and lead the way. He didn't do it, and gradually it began to dawn upon the commandant and the a.s.sembled "tacs" that the whole thing was a hoax. "And then indeed the Philistines were wroth."

Captain Quincey, the commandant, stepped to the head of the line, determined to investigate the matter on the spot. Roll call disclosed the fact that no one was absent; that made him think the guns were fired with a time fuse, and so he tried another way to find out the culprits.

It is not good form in West Point to lie; cadets who do soon find themselves cut by the cla.s.s. So Captain Quincey, knowing that, gave this order:

"Parties who fired those guns will remain standing. Those who are innocent will advance one step. March!"

Now that any plebe had dared to do such a bold trick had never occurred to the cadets. They were convinced that some of their number were guilty, and they protected them in the usual way. Not a man moved. They refused to obey the order.

The commandant was furious, of course. He tried it the other way, ordered the guilty ones to advance. Whereupon the whole corps stepped forward to share the blame. To punish them he tried the dodge of keeping them standing at attention for half an hour or so, but several dropped from well-feigned exhaustion, which stopped that scheme.

He ordered one of the "tacs" to march them around the parade ground. The cadets, who were out for fun by this time and angry besides, guyed the unpopular "tac" with a vengeance. It was too dark for him to distinguish any one, and so every one obeyed orders wrong, producing chaos and finally compelling him to summon the commandant to preserve order.

With the commandant watching, those weary cadets marched for an hour more. Then he asked some questions and again got no answers. And finally in disgust he sent them off to their tents, most of them still puzzled as to who did it, some of them wild with joy.

These last were the Banded Seven--"B. B. J."

CHAPTER VI.

WHAT MARK OVERHEARD.

"Now, captain, there are no two ways about it, this business has got to stop, and stop right where it is."

The speaker was Colonel Harvey, superintendent of the West Point Military Academy. He was sitting in the guardhouse tent of the camp and talking to Captain Quincey.

"Yes," he repeated, slapping his leg for emphasis, "it's got to stop."

"I quite agree with you, colonel," responded the other, deprecatingly.

"Quite. But the only question is to find out the offenders."

"If the offenders are not found out," cried the other, "I shall punish the whole cla.s.s until they confess. Discipline shall not be laughed at while I am in command of this academy. And that is just exactly what that matter amounts to."

"It certainly does seem," admitted the other, "that the yearling cla.s.s has such an idea in mind."

"Never since I have been here has a cla.s.s of yearlings dared to celebrate their release from plebehood by such a set of lawless acts. It began the very first night that the plebes entered camp. I do not know what had been going on before that, but the yearlings had evidently become entirely reckless of consequences, and careless of discovery.

They woke the camp by a series of outrageous noises; one of them fired off a gun, I believe."

"Lieutenant Allen," put in the other, "told me that he made an investigation on the spot and could find nothing suspicious."

"The yearlings had probably seen to it that he wouldn't. Then night before last Lieutenant Allen, who was again on duty, reported to me personally that he was awakened about midnight by a shout, and going outside of his tent found that about half the cadets had been out of bed and over in Fort Clinton, probably hazing some one. They were all rus.h.i.+ng back to camp; he says that it was so dark he could recognize no one."

"It is perfectly outrageous!" exclaimed the commandant.

"It has got to be stopped, too," vowed the other. "That incident of the gun last night capped the climax. I have heard of the cadets playing that prank before, loading one of the guns and firing it at night. But this time they did it for the evident purpose of breaking up the entertainment, and moreover, they fired three so as to make people think it was an alarm of fire. I think myself that was carrying the matter a trifle too far. And as I said, I propose to see that it is punished."

The above was meant to be private. Neither the superintendent nor the commandant meant that their conversation should reach any one but themselves. There was one other auditor, however, and it was Mark.

He was a sentry and his beat lay by the tent. As he paced up and down every word that was said was audible to him.

Early that same morning, after having been spruced up and polished by his friends, he had turned out and received an elaborate set of instructions from a yearling corporal. Now he was putting them into effect during his two hours' turn "on guard."

One of his instructions had been silence. Yet he was only human--and as the angry remarks of the high and mighty Colonel Harvey reached his ears it must be confessed that between chuckles and grins he was far from silent indeed. And a few minutes later when he was relieved from duty till his next turn, he rushed off with unconcealed excitement to his tent.

There were three seated therein; and Mark greeted them with a burst of long-repressed merriment.

"h.e.l.lo, fellows!" he cried. "Oh, say, I've got the greatest news of the century!"

"What's up?" they inquired eagerly.

"I thought I'd die laughing," responded Mark. "You know all the tricks we've been playing on the yearlings? Well, I just overheard the superintendent talking to the commandant of cadets and he's blamed it all on the yearlings."

"What?"

"Yes, I heard it. And he may punish them. You see, it's always the yearlings who have played pranks before. The plebes have never dared.

And so the superintendent doesn't think of blaming us. Isn't that fine?

And, oh, say! won't the yearlings be mad!"

The Parson arose solemnly to his feet.

"Yea, by Zeus," said he. "Gentlemen, I propose three cheers for the Banded Seven."

They were given with a will--and in a whisper.

"Wow!" roared Texas. "An' to think that the ole man--Colonel Harvey, if you please--went an' blamed the firin' o' them guns on the yearlin's!

Whoop! Say, didn't it come out great? It scared the place most blue; an'

that coward, Bull Harris, the feller that wanted to lick Mark when he was tied to a tree, had his ole speech busted up in the middle, too.