CHAPTER XXI.
A MILD ATTEMPT AT HAZING.
If Cadet Corporal Murray had any doubts about the necessity for puttingthis very dirty scheme into practice, or if his not over squeamishconscience was the least bit troubled by the prospect, somethinghappened that same evening which effectually squelched such ideas. Itwas after supper, during half an hour of so-called "rest," which isallowed to the over-drilled plebe. Mr. Murray, in whose manly breaststill burned a fire of rage at the insult which "B. J." Dewey hadoffered him, resolved in his secret heart that that same insult must andshould be avenged. That evening he thought an especially favorable time,for Dewey was still an "invalid," as a result of his last B. J. effort.
With this purpose in view, Cadet Murray stole away from his companionsand set out for barracks, around which the luckless plebes wereclustered. Arriving there, he hunted; he spent quite a while in hunting,for the object of his search was nowhere to be seen. He caught sight ofMark and his "gang," but Dewey was not among them. When he did find himat last it was a good way from that place--way up on Flirtation Walk;and then Cadet Murray got down to business at once.
"Look a here, B. J. beast!" he called.
The object of this peremptory challenge turned, as also did hiscompanion, the terrified Indian--once more about to be hazed. The twostared at the yearling; a lady and gentleman passing glanced at himalso, probably wondering what was in store for the luckless plebes; andthen they passed on, leaving the place lonely, and deserted, just thespot for the proposed work. So thought the yearling, as he rubbed hishands gleefully and spoke again.
"Beast!" said he, "I want to tell you that you were very impudent to meto-day!"
"Strange coincidence!" cried Dewey, with one of his merry laughs."Reminds me of a story I once heard, b'gee. Two old farmers got stuck ina snowdrift--five feet deep, and getting deeper. Says one of 'em, b'gee,'It's c-c-c-cold!' 'B'gee!' cried the other. 'B'gee, naow ain't thatpecooliar! Jes' exactly what I was goin' to say myself, b'gee!'"
Cadet Murray listened to this blithe recital with a frowning brow.
"You think that's funny, don't you!" he sneered.
"No, b'gee!" laughed Dewey, "because I didn't write it. 'Nother fellowtold me that--the queerest chap I think I ever knew, he was. Had amother-in-law that used to----"
"Shut up!" cried Murray, in anger, seeing that he was being "guyed."
"B'gee!" cried Dewey, "that's just what she didn't!"
There was an ominous silence after that, during which the yearlingglared angrily, and Indian muttered "Bless my soul!"
"It's quite evident," began the former, at last, "that you are inclinedto be fresh."
"Ink-lined to be fresh," added Dewey, "as the stamped egg remarked whenit was dated three days after it was laid. That's another far-fetchedjoke, though. Still I've heard some more far-fetched than that--one afriend of mine read on an Egyptian pyramid and brought home to tell fornew. Queer fellow that friend of mine was, too. He didn't have amother-in-law, this one, but he slept in a folding bed, and, b'gee, thatbed used to shut up oftener than the mother-in-law didn't. Handsomebed, too--an inlaid bed--and it shut up whenever it was laid in, b'gee."
Dewey could have prattled on at this merry rate for an hour, for he knewmore jokes--good ones--and could make up more bad ones on the spur ofthe moment than half a dozen ordinary mortals. But he was brought to asudden halt just then, and muttered a suppressed "B'gee!" For theyearling, wild with anger, leaped forward and aimed a savage blow at hishead.
The plebe ducked; he was quick and agile in body as he was in mind. Andthen as the big cadet aimed another blow, he put up his one wellarm--the other was in a sling--and defended himself to the best of hisability, at the same time calling Indian to his aid.
But before there was time for another move something else happened.Dewey was debating whether discretion were not really the whole ofvalor, and whether it were not better to "run away and live to fight--orrun away--some other day;" and Indian was actually doubling up his fatlittle fists about to strike the first blow in his fat little life; whensuddenly came a shout behind them, and a moment later a strong handseized the advancing yearling by the back of his collar and flung himhead first to the ground.
Cadet Murray sprang to his feet again and turned purple with rage andsoiled with dirt, to confront the stalwart form of Mark, and Markrubbing his hands together and smiling cheerfully.
"Will you have any more?" he inquired, politely. "Step right up if youwill--and by the way, stop that swearing."
"A very timely arrival," remarked Dewey, smoothing his jacket. "Verytimely, b'gee! Reminds me----"
"Bless my soul!" cried Indian.
"Going, are you?" put in Mark, as the discomfited Murray started toslink away. "Well, good-evening. I've had my satisfaction for beingcalled a coward by you."
"You shall pay for this," the furious cadet muttered. "Pay for it assure as I'm alive!"
His threat was taken lightly by the plebes; they had little idea of whathe meant when he spoke. And they were chatting merrily about theadventure as they turned and made their way back to barracks.
"It only goes to show," was Mark's verdict, "that an alliance is afirst-rate idea. I saw that fellow prowling around barracks and I knewright away what he was up to. We've one more enemy, that's all."
That was not all, by a good sight. The angry yearling hurried back tocamp, nursing his feelings as he went; there he poured out the vials ofhis wrath into the ears of his two sympathetic companions, Bull and theBaby. And the three of them spent the rest of that evening, up totattoo, discussing their revenge, thinking up a thousand pretexts uponwhich Cadet Mallory might be "skinned." There was a bombshell scheduledto fall into the midst of the "alliance" the next day.
A Cadet's Honor: Mark Mallory's Heroism Page 21