by Gordon Bates
CHAPTER VIII
A MYSTERIOUS DISAPPEARANCE
"You ought to be grateful to me for the rest of your life, Iggy," wasBob's bantering peroration when the four had taken possession of thedeserted and therefore desirable corner.
"Y-e-a. So am I." Ignace looked more dazed than grateful. He had not theremotest idea of what Bob was driving at.
"Now listen hard, Iggy, and try to get this. Ahem!" Clearing his throatthe rhymster shot a mirthful glance at Ignace and began to read,emphasizing each word for the Pole's benefit.
"'Attention,' means, 'Eyes to the Front.' Stand on both feet to do this stunt. Your hands at sides; keep straight your knees; Feet out at forty-five degrees. Thumbs on your trouser seams must rest; Hold up your head; throw out your chest."
By the time he had reached the middle of the jingle, Jimmy and Rogerwere smiling broadly. They, at least, had come into completeunderstanding of the "great stunt." The Pole's stolid face was a study.Light was just beginning faintly to dawn upon him.
"Did you get it?" Bob asked him, his black eyes dancing.
"Y-e-a. Som I get. You read him 'gain."
"No. I'm going on to the next. When I'm through, I'm going to give youthese rules for your own. You must study 'em and learn 'em. See?"
"Y-e-a. Thank." Ignace beamed seraphic joy at his poetic benefactor. "Sowill I," he vowed fervently.
"Go ahead and tear off some more," begged Jimmy impatiently. "Myra'ssure some poet."
"I'll give you a few of 'em just to be obliging and to show I don't mindbeing called Myra. You can read the rest yourselves. When you getenough, snap the lever and the talking machine will go dead. All right,Mr. Dalton. So kind of you." Bob smirked, grimaced, then continued:
"'Parade!' This second of commands Means Iggy quick must join his hands At center-front, below the waist, Right thumb and index fingers placed To gently clasp his own left thumb And show the sergeant he knows some.
"To 'Rest,' your left knee slightly bend; Your right foot quick behind you send, Pick it up smartly; swing it clear, A straight six inches to the rear.
"All officers you must 'Salute.' Your right hand to your head now shoot, Straight hand and wrist o'er your right eye, Fingers and thumb must touching lie.
"'Right': Turn your head to 'right oblique,' And don't you dare toward 'left' to peek. 'Left' means don't rubber toward the 'right,' 'Front,' look ahead with all your might.
"'Right Face!' On your right heel swing round, Ball of your left foot pressed to ground, Your left foot place beside your right And do it quick: Don't wait all night. 'Left Face': Your left heel does the work, Turn easily without a jerk.
"At 'Forward March!' your left knee's straight; Upon your right leg rest your weight. Left foot advancing to the front To do your little marching stunt.
"Anybody want to snap the lever?" Bob looked up with an inquiring grin.
"Not yet." Roger eyed the rhymster with genuine admiration. "It's bully.Go on."
"I like. Much I un'erstan'. You read him more. Byme by you give me Istoody all time." The Pole showed actual signs of enthusiasm.
"That's the idea, else why is Bobby a bum poet?" Pleased, nevertheless,at his success, Bob resumed.
"For 'Quick Time' thirty inches step-- Lift up your feet and show some pep. The 'Double Time' is thirty-six; Now practice this until it sticks.
"'Halt!' when you're told; don't keep on going, Unless you want to get a blowing; Stop in your tracks, your feet together And show your brain's not made of leather.
"To 'March to Rear' turn right on toes. Then 'Left Foot!' 'Right Foot!' here he goes. For 'Change of Step' right foot's first used, So swing your right, or get abused."
With this last line of sage advice, Bob stopped reading. "This talkingmachine has an automatic brake," he declared. Deftly shuffling the typedsheets into numerical order he handed them to Ignace with a flourish."Now go to it, old chap. Stay on the job until you can say 'embackward. There are about a dozen more that I didn't read out loud. Ifyou don't understand 'em trot 'em around to me and I'll set youstraight. Practice every move as you say it and you'll soon be O. K.After you get them learned, the rest will come easier to you."
"Thank! Thank!" Ignace clutched the papers gratefully. Pride of his newacquisition made him reluctant to let Roger and Jimmy take them longenough to read the balance of the verses.
"Show's over. We'd better be moving along. It's twenty-five to ten,"warned Jimmy at last. "You're all to the good, Bob. Wish I could writelike you can."
"Forget it." Bob waved an inconsequential hand. "You've got me beatenalready when it comes to soldiering. So honors are more than even, Iguess. A lot they care up here whether you wrote the Declaration ofIndependence or the latest best seller. You're in the Army now, and inbad, too, unless you can show the drill sergeant that you're a liveone."
"Soon I show," broke in Ignace eagerly. "Here have I the rule. Whatmore?"
"What indeed?" murmured Bob, winking solemnly at Roger.
Leaving the Y. M. C. A., the four Brothers started briskly toward theirbarrack, which was no farther away than would be two ordinary blocks ina city. Call to quarters sounded just as they entered the building.During the short walk Ignace had ambled along in happy silence, holdingtightly to his treasure trove. He was secretly wondering which of histhree Brothers he liked best and what he could do for them to prove hisloyalty. Just now he could think of nothing to do that seemed worthwhile, except to work hard and show them that he could be a good"solder." He resolved to study night and day the "fonny" rules Bob hadwritten for him. Could Bob have foreseen the outcome of this firmresolve, he might have considered well before supplying Ignace with therhymed record of instruction he had just delivered into his Polishbunkie's keeping with the advice, "Stay on the job until you can say 'embackward."
"There! We forgot to mail our letters," commented Roger regretfully toJimmy as he began removing his shoes.
"Too late now. Taps'll sound in a minute. I'll mail 'em all the firstthing in the morning, right after breakfast. Give me yours now. I'll getIggy's and put 'em all together on the top of my shelf. If you happen tothink of it first, remind me of them."
Collecting from Ignace the one letter he had written, Jimmy placed it,together with his own and Roger's, on top of a little folding shelfabove his bunk. He had brought it from home and it held his father's andmother's photographs. It also boasted of several kodak prints. Therewas one of the girl friend with whom he had grown up, another of Buster,his dog, and still another of himself, seated in 'Old Speedy.' "They'reall here," he had remarked to Roger as he had set them in place, "evento Old Speedy."
Sleep soon visited the eyelids of the four Khaki Boys. Having been moreactive than usual that day they were quite ready for a good night'srest. The last to drop into slumber, Roger was the first to awaken thenext morning. Long accustomed to rising at a few minutes past fiveo'clock, he had found himself awake before first call blew each morningsince his arrival in camp. His eyes opening to greet the daylightpouring in at the windows, his gaze roved idly over the rows of sleepingsoldier boys. Remembrance of Jimmy's request concerning the letters senthis glance next straying toward the shelf where he had seen his bunkieplace them. They were not there now. Roger stared frowningly at theshelf, then his face cleared. Jimmy had evidently taken them from thereand put them elsewhere. Perhaps in his suit-case. As soon as Jimmy wasawake he would ask about them. He was sleeping so peacefully now. Itwould be a shame to disturb him before first call. Jimmy always sleptuntil the last minute, then fairly dashed into his uniform.
Deciding that he would begin to dress, Roger slipped quietly from hiscot and began methodically putting on his clothing. When the clarionnotes of the bugle, sounding first call, split the drowsy air, he wasfully dressed and seated on the edge of his cot, watching with quietamusement the orderly flurry that had commenced all around him.
"Where's my shoe?" came presently in desperate tones from Jimmy, thusc
entering Roger's attention upon his friend. "It was right beside theother last night. I'll swear to it that I put it there. Now it's gone!"Jimmy's voice rose anxiously on the last word. By this time the call of"I can't get 'em up" was echoing through the barrack.
"Here is him." From under his own cot, where Ignace was just snatchinghis own shoes, he drew Jimmy's missing one and slid it along the barefloor.
Jimmy swooped down upon it with a gurgle of relief. Not stopping toinquire how it had wandered there, he hastily put it on and went ondressing at breakneck speed, barely finishing before Reveille, the thirdand last warning before roll call.
Concern for his bunkie's loss drove the subject of the letters fromRoger's mind. Returning into the barrack after roll call to makethemselves presentable before breakfast, recollection of the missingletters came back to Roger with dismaying force.
"Don't forget your letters, Jimmy," he reminded.
"Much obliged. I _had_ forgotten. That shoe business rattled me. I'llcinch them now before I visit the sink to make myself beautiful."
A few quick strides and he had reached his cot. Following, Roger heardhim exclaim: "What in Sam Hill!" Whirling with a grin he called out,"You old fake! You've got those letters! All right. You can just mail'em."
"But I haven't," came the earnest denial. "When I first woke up thismorning I looked at the shelf and saw they were gone. I thought you'dput them in some other place."
"I put them on _that shelf_," emphasized Jimmy. "What's the matter, I'dlike to know? First my shoe turns up under Iggy's cot and then away goall our letters. There's something queer about this. Shoes without feetcan't walk off alone. Letters can't disappear without hands. What's theanswer?"
"Maybe Iggy or Bob took the letters to mail for you," hazarded Roger."They've gone ahead to scrub up for breakfast and we'd better do thesame. You can ask them about it in the mess hall. Don't bother any moreabout it now. Come on."
Frowning, Jimmy obeyed, feeling a trifle nettled over the fact of asecond annoying disappearance on the heels of the first.
"Did either of you fellows take those letters to mail?" was his initialremark to Bob and Iggy as they met at mess.
Receiving a surprised "No" from both, Jimmy turned to Roger with: "Whatdo you know about that?"
"Not much." Roger grew grave as he explained the situation to Bob andIggy.
"Someone got away with them," asserted Bob cheerfully. "Must be a mightysmall someone who'd stoop to lift a bunch of letters to the home folks.Stealing anything from another fellow is a serious offense in the Army."
"Why should anybody want to do a thing like that?" demanded Roger. "Wedon't know the fellows in our barrack well enough yet for any of them todo it for a joke."
"It's no joke," was Jimmy's savage opinion. "It was done for puremeanness. How'd my shoe get away down under Iggy's bed? Some fellow inthe squad-room has it in for me. If you don't know who he is, well--Ido. I'll bet you my hat Bixton did it to spite me for jumping himyesterday. Just wait till I see him! I'll----"
"No, you won't," interposed Bob. "You'd only get in wrong unless you hadproof. You can't accuse a fellow offhand of anything like that and getaway with it. Keep your eyes open and your mouth shut. The only way toland a criminal is to get evidence that he is one. The same thingapplies to a mischief-maker. Whoever he is, I'm not saying it's Bixton,he'll think he's put one over on you, and so pretty soon he'll try itagain. It's up to you to pussy-foot around and catch him at it. Now mindyour Uncle Bob, not a word about these letters to anyone. You can writesome more to your folks. Just act as if nothing had happened and do alittle watchful waiting. There's a time to speak, but it isn't now. Sobottle your wrath, Blazes, and do the Sherlock Holmes act. With the fourBrothers on the job, all keeping a starboard eye out, believe me,whoever cribbed those letters will wish sooner or later that he'd let'em alone."