The Khaki Boys at Camp Sterling; Or, Training for the Big Fight in France

by Gordon Bates

  CHAPTER X

  NO LONGER "JUST ROOKIES"

  As the September days glided by, Bixton's threat of speedy vengeancebore no apparent fruit. Whether he was lying in wait for a goodopportunity to discredit the four Khaki Boys, or whether he was only theproverbial barking dog that never bites, they neither knew nor cared. Totheir great relief, the story of the fight did not reach the ear of theacting first sergeant. Thus Ignace escaped the disgrace of beingpunished in his very first week at Camp Sterling.

  On hearing an account of the affair from Ignace himself, Roger was lessinclined than ever to blame him for what had happened. He did not say soto Ignace, however. Instead, he sharply pointed out to the crest-fallenpugilist that two wrongs never made a right. He also privately warnedBob and Jimmy, who had been told of the fracas, not to let theirsympathies run away with them.

  Impetuous Jimmy, however, found it very hard to repress openly, toIgnace, his own satisfaction at the latter's recent uprising. Hesecretly wished that Ignace _had_ given Bixton a sound thrashing and"gotten away with it." Slow of comprehension in some respects, thePolish boy was not too obtuse to divine Jimmy's attitude toward him. Inconsequence, he hung about the latter with a dog-like fidelity thatsignally amused Roger and Bob. Devoted as he was to his three Brothers,Jimmy was rapidly becoming his idol.

  The passing of days saw all four young men making progress in thebusiness of soldiering. As has been already stated, Jimmy showed themost dash and snap in that direction. He took to military procedure likea duck to water, and "went to it" heart and soul. Easily the mostefficient man in his squad, he was on the road to a corporalship, thoughhe did not suspect it. He drilled with the same zest he would have putinto a football game and prided himself on his prompt ability to executecorrectly a new movement immediately it had been explained to him. Itwas the glory rather than the duty of being a good soldier that mostimpressed him.

  On the other hand, Bob and Roger regarded it more from the duty angle.This was only natural, considering that both men had been obliged, whenin civil life, to shift for themselves. They tackled drill as they wouldhave wrestled with a new job. It interested but did not enthrall them.It was a means to an end. That end meant, to them, Bob in particular,active service in France. He looked upon "Going Over" as the supremeadventure. If he survived he intended to come home and write a book"that would sell like hot cakes."

  Iggy's noblest aspiration was to do well and so stay in the same squadwith Jimmy and Bixton. Devotion to the former and spite against thelatter swayed him equally. He knew that Jimmy was as desirous of hiswelfare as Bixton was of his downfall. This double motive inspired himto good works. Back of it all, undoubtedly, he was a true patriot. Hisenlistment in the Army proved that. For the time being, however, theglory of being a soldier was lost in the difficulty of trying to stayone. The drill sergeant was the most awe-inspiring figure on hishorizon. Long afterward when the four Brothers had proved their mettlein far-off France, he had been heard to declare soulfully: "Go Over Topno so bad. One drill sergeant more worse twenty Tops!"

  In spite of his encounter with Bixton, Ignace was still seized withspells of reciting his rules aloud. It did not take his companions ofthe barracks long to discover the nature of his frequent fits ofmumbling. When it gradually became noised about in the squad-room thatBob Dalton had composed them for his bunkie's benefit, he was besiegedfor copies of them. Though he refused to supply them, he good-naturedlyrecited such as he could recall to several of the men. Very soon hardlya day passed when he was not asked to give one or more of them. As aresult it was not long before they achieved the popularity of a topicalsong and at least half the occupants of the squad-room could recite oneor more of them. In time they became circulated throughout the camp andlong after Bob had left Camp Sterling behind for "Over There," his"Military Maneuvers in Rhyme" were passed on to newcomers and gleefullyquoted.

  October saw the four Khaki Boys long since emerge from the School of theSoldier into the School of the Squad. They had now mastered the basicprinciples of military training and were beginning to feel a little morelike Regulars. They now knew the Manual of Arms and had been fullyinstructed in the use, nomenclature and care of their rifles. They wereno longer just "rookies."

  Their periods of drill had been gradually lengthened until they were nowputting in the same amount of time as the seasoned men. From half-pastseven in the morning until dismissal by a sergeant at half-past eleven,they were kept at work learning soldiering. One o'clock Assembly markedthe beginning of the afternoon drill period, which lasted untilhalf-past four with thirty minutes' intermission before Retreat.

  Thus far none of the quartette had troubled themselves much concerning"passes," those magic bits of scribbled paper that meant permission toquit camp limits for a few brief hours of civil life. Once or twice theyhad obtained leave to spend an evening in Glenwood, a village aboutthree miles from Camp Sterling.

  "What we ought to do is to all get a pass, go to Tremont and take in agood show," was Bob's opinion one evening as the four boys sat talkingtogether in barracks. "We could get off at noon some Saturday and beback by midnight. That would give us the afternoon to see the town, abang-up supper at a first-class restaurant and a show afterward. Oh,boy! Oh, joy! I can just see us doing it."

  "That sounds good to me," glowed Jimmy. "I've been going slow on thepass business 'cause I want to ask for one from Saturday until Mondaymorning, so that I can go home. Every letter I get from Mother latelyshe asks me when I'm coming home. But I guess if I'm good maybe I canget off with you fellows and get the pass home, too."

  "Let me see. This is Thursday. Why not make it for day after to-morrow?"proposed Bob. "With pay-day only yesterday we've all got money to spend.Why let it burn in our pockets? Use up and earn more's my motto."

  "I'd like to take a trip to Tremont," nodded Roger. "We've all workedgood and hard since we came here. It's time for a little harmlessrecreation."

  "You can count me in," readily assured Jimmy.

  "I can no go," stated Ignace regretfully.

  "Why not?" Jimmy demanded. "What's going to hinder you?"

  "I have no the monies. A little, yes, but no much. So stay I here.Anyhow, you go. I very glad for you have the fon. While you way think Ito you," Ignace added with a sigh.

  "No money! For goodness' sake, where is it? You just drew---- I beg yourpardon, Iggy." Jimmy colored hotly. "I shouldn't have asked such a noseyquestion. Forget it."

  "Ask all thing you want ask all time." Ignace accompanied this graciouspermission with a sweeping flourish of his hand. "You are the Brother.So have you the good right. Firs' think I no say nothin'. Anyhow, now Itell. I am to poor my mother the bad son for that I run way. When I homegive her all monies no my father take. Now I here she have the nothin'for long time. He my father give only for the rent an' the eat. No muchthe eat. In my house are the three littles, two sister an' one brother.So have I nother brother. He have sixteen year. Work hard but every weekget only the five dollar, an' my father take mos'. Now have I the paysen' all my mother. Only I keep two dollar. It is enough here, but nofor have the eat, the show, the good time Bob say. Som' day go alongTremont. No now. I am the broke." Ignace looked mildly triumphant athaving been able to express himself in slangy Bob's vernacular.

  "You may be 'the broke,' Iggy, but you've got a solid gold heart!"exclaimed Bob, his shrewd black eyes growing soft. "I call that mightywhite in you. Never you mind, if we can get the passes you come alongwith us just the same. I'll do the treating and glad to at that."

  "Count me in on that," emphasized Jimmy. "My dough is yours, Iggy. Youcan draw on it till it gives out."

  "Same here," smiled Roger, who had been signally touched by the brokenlittle tale of sacrifice.

  "No, no!" The Pole's tones indicated stubborn finality. "I can no do.Thank. You are the too good all. I know; un'erstan'. I have for me whatyou call it, the respet. So mus' I the no say an' stay by the camp. Youask me more, I no like; feel fonny mad!"

  Ignace's c
haracterization of hurt self-respect as "fonny mad" raised alaugh. That, at least, did not disturb him. He merely grinned andremarked tranquilly: "You make the fon one poor Poley."

  The plan for a journey into Tremont, having been duly discussed, it butremained to the three young men to obtain the desired passes forSaturday afternoon. Tremont was the only city of importance within aradius of seventy-five miles. It lay about twenty miles east of thecamp. Soon after the making of Camp Sterling a line of automobile busseshad sprung up to do a thriving business between there and Tremont. Therewere also many regularly licensed jitney automobiles that went to andfro for the accommodation of both soldiers and visitors, not to mentiontheir own individual profit.

  "We can go to Tremont in one of those Cinderella pumpkins forseventy-five cents, or we can give up a plunk apiece and ride in stylein a jit. You pays your money and you takes your choice," declared Bob.At first sight he had attached the appellation of Cinderella pumpkins tothe big yellow uncomfortable busses operated by a business concern inTremont.

  "Me for a regular buzz wagon. I wouldn't wear out my bones bouncingaround in one of those bumpety-bump Noah's Arks if I was paid to ride init," objected Jimmy disdainfully.

  "What's a quarter more beside Jimmy Blazes's delicate little bones!"jeered Bob.

  "Did you ever ride in one of those rattle-traps?" retorted Jimmy.

  "No, my son, and I don't intend to," beamed Bob. "I've seen otherfellows ride in 'em."