by Gordon Bates
CHAPTER XII
AN UNEXPECTED FRIEND AT COURT
During the remainder of the night none of the four Khaki Boys sleptmuch. The very nature of Ignace's fragmentary information was calculatedto keep his bunkies awake for a while. Ignace himself tossed restlesslyabout on his cot. Though his conscience did not trouble him, his nosepained him.
Dropping into fitful slumber just as dawn was graying in the east, hewas cautiously awakened a little before first call by Roger, who wasalways first of the four to open his eyes in the morning.
"Sorry to do it, old man," apologized Roger in a whisper, "but we mayn'thave another chance to talk. Get dressed as quietly as you can. I'mgoing to wake up Jimmy and Bob."
Bob and Jimmy next interviewed, the quartette dressed with noiselessspeed. Directly after first call they gathered about Ignace, who in anundertone regaled them with an account of the fight.
"Now listen to me, Iggy," counseled Bob in low, guarded tones. "When youget on the carpet before the K. O. you tell him just what you told usand stick to it. Don't you let Bixton put it over you. Naturally he'lltry it. It'll be your word against his."
"Too bad somebody else didn't see him at his dirty work," mutteredJimmy. "Wish we hadn't gone off to Tremont. Then this wouldn't havehappened."
"What you should have done, Ignace, was just to hold onto him and raisean alarm." Roger's face indicated troubled sympathy.
"So think I," protested Ignace. "Get up quick an' try. Him no think I amthe wake. Jus' I catch, him yell; hit me the nose. Then am I the mad.Hit too; ver' strong poonch. So is it the fight."
"So is it," commented Bob grimly. "You're in for it, Iggy. All you cando is to speak your little piece, and take your medicine like a lamb.You're in the Army now. Oh, boy!" The rueful intonation of this lastbrought the flicker of a smile to three very gloomy faces.
"Break away!" warned Jimmy _sotto-voce_, as he sighted Sergeant Dexterbearing down upon them.
As Roger had feared, the sergeant was on the trail of the belligerents,neither of whom were to be allowed to mingle with their comrades,pending the action of the commanding officer, to whom he had alreadysent a written report of the disturbance.
Following one o'clock Assembly that day, came the dread summons that sawboth Ignace and Bixton dropped out of ranks and marched off toheadquarters under guard, there to give an account of themselves to thatawe-inspiring person, the K. O., which is Army vernacular for thecommanding officer. It was a highly uncomfortable moment for both whenthey were brought into the presence of a most austere-faced commandant,whose penetrating blue eyes pierced them through and through, as theycame to attention before his desk.
With him was Sergeant Dexter, who eyed the two with an expression ofprofound disgust. The sergeant was feeling decidedly sore over the wholeaffair. It put him in an unpleasant light. Having stared the culpritsfairly out of countenance, Major Stearns proceeded, with duedeliberation, to pick up the report from his desk, reading it aloud in adry, hard tone that fully indicated his great displeasure.
"This is a full report of what occurred last night?" he asked, turningto Sergeant Dexter.
"It is, sir," replied the sergeant, saluting.
"What's your name? What have you to say for yourself?" he next rappedout severely, addressing Bixton. The man's left eye showed all tooplainly the result of that scrimmage in the dark.
"Bixton, sir. What happened last night was not my fault, sir," returnedBixton, almost defiantly. "A little after eleven o'clock I woke up andfound I was thirsty. I left my cot to get a drink of water. I crossedthe room as quiet as I could, and started down the squad room. Istumbled a little in the dark and stopped for a minute. Next thing Iknew a man had jumped on me and was trying to hit me. It surprised me soI yelled right out. He kept on hitting me, so I had to defend myselfand----"
"That is no the trut'," came the angry contradiction. Ignace glaredrighteous indignation at his traducer. "Never I----"
"Silence!" thundered the K. O. "Don't you dare speak until you're toldto talk!"
"'Scuse," muttered Ignace, too utterly abashed by the rebuke to besoldier-like.
"You state," the Major resumed his inquiry, "that this man here attackedyou last night in the dark without cause?"
"Yes, sir."
"Humph! Have you ever before had any trouble with him?"
"Once before, sir." A baleful gleam of triumph shot into the man's paleeyes.
"When and where? Tell me about it."
"One day quite a while ago he was talking loud in barracks when I wastrying to rest. I asked him to stop it, and he wouldn't pay anyattention. Then I asked him again to stop making so much noise, and hejumped on me just the same as he did last night. He got me down andwould have half-killed me if one of the fellows he runs with hadn't comein and pulled him off. As soon as I knew last night who was fighting meI wasn't surprised any more. I knew he'd been laying for me and so----"
"That will do." The major cut him off sharply.
Fixing a severe glance on Sergeant Dexter he asked, "Why didn't you makea report of this first fight between these two men?"
"I knew nothing about it," was the chagrined answer. "I was certainly_not_ in the barrack when it occurred."
"Humph!" came the dry repetition. "You seem to be hunting for trouble,my man," was the commanding officer's grim opinion, as he looked poorIgnace sternly over. "If you've anything to say, I'll hear it." The toneindicated that more than enough had already been said. "What's yourname? Speak up."
Ignace drew a deep, sighing breath. Raising his head with a proud littleair, which he had unconsciously borrowed from Jimmy, he said, with slowdignity: "I am one a Pole, Ignace Pulinski, sir. I am no the liar, sir.Now say I the trut' all. You no believe, I can no help." Quiteunemotionally, and with frequent groping for a word that eluded him,Ignace proceeded in his broken speech to give a detailed account ofBixton's repeated churlish conduct toward himself since he had firstencountered him in Company E's barrack. Neither did the K. O. interrupthim, but allowed him to go on talking, his keen eyes never leaving thePolish boy's stolid face.
"Yeserday my three Brothar get the pass," pursued Ignace doggedly. "ThenI all 'lone. Bob say, 'you stay wake we come back.' I say, 'So will I.'Taps him come, I ver' sleepy, but no go sleep. So wait I an' watch.After while think now is mid the night. My Brothar no yet come. I lookto the stair, then, know I no why, look round. I see this man--so."Ignace leaned forward to illustrate. "He have the hand reach out therack Jimmy, my ver' bes' Brothar. I think he go steal something. Once wewrite the lettar. Leave on the shelf Jimmy. In morning no lettar. Solas' night think him mebbe t'ief. I think catch, keep till sergeantcome. Then him yell an' hit me the nose. So am I the mad. Hit, too; ver'strong poonch. So is it the fight," ended Ignace placidly, using theprecise words in which he had recounted the fray to his bunkies.
"That's a big lie from beginning to end! He's trying to save his ownface." This time it was Bixton who forgot himself. His face aflame, heturned menacingly upon his accuser. "You dirty, foreign trash----"
"Hold your tongue! Such language is unbecoming enough in itself, letalone in the presence of your commanding officer." The probing eyes ofthe commandant grew steely, his jaws came together with a snap on thelast word. "The stories of you two men don't agree in the least, excepton one point," he continued harshly. "You are both guilty of brawlingand thus disgracing the Service. Sergeant----" Still standing at rigidattention, the non-com. tried to look even more attentive. "Bring theman you say knows something of this affair from the other room."
Smartly saluting, the sergeant wheeled and stepped to the door of aninner room. Flinging it open he disappeared, to return almost instantlywith a soldier, whose dark, rugged face was set in purposeful lines.
"This is the man, sir," reported the sergeant.
Momentary consternation showed itself in Bixton's face as he viewed theunexpected witness; then a sneer played about his lips. Ignace, however,stared at the newcomer in blank, absolute wonder. The serge
ant's report,read out by the K. O., had contained nothing about this third party,who, nevertheless, it seemed, had something to say about last night'sdisturbance. Now the Pole listened with strained attention as PrivateSchnitzel, the man whose acquaintance he had made only yesterday, madeprompt replies to the major's preliminary questions.
"Tell me what you saw last night," commanded the K. O.
"I was awake and saw Bixton leave his cot last night, sir. He crossedthe room and stopped, as well as I could see in the dim light, in frontof the vacant cots that belong to the men that were away. I saw himreach out his hand. Then I heard him yell and knew someone had caughthold of him. I knew it must be Pulinski who had grabbed him, because hemust have thought just as I did that Bixton was up to somethingcrooked."
"Never mind what you thought," frowned the major. "Is that all you saw?You are holding nothing back?"
"That is all I saw, sir. I have told you everything I knew about _lastnight_, sir, except that I saw the fight and all that happened afterwardwhen the sergeant came."
"What do you know concerning the trouble between these two men previousto this disgraceful affair?" The K. O. had caught the slight stress laidon Schnitzel's words, "last night." "Were you in the squad room when thefirst brawl between them took place?"
"Yes, sir."
"Give me an impartial account of it."
Schnitzel complied with a terse recital of the occurrence, which inevery detail corroborated the statements which Ignace had made.
"Are you ready to take solemn oath, if necessary, that what you havejust stated is absolutely true in every respect?"
"Yes, sir."
"Very good. That will be all for the present. You may go."
Saluting, Schnitzel wheeled and walked briskly from the room.
An oppressive silence fell as the sound of his retreating footfalls diedout, during which the K. O. coldly scrutinized the pair before him. Whenat last he spoke, he addressed himself to Bixton.
"According to the testimony of two men, you were behaving in asuspicious manner when Pulinski attacked you. If you were on your way toget a drink of water, why did you stop to prowl about another man'scot?"
"I didn't stop on purpose, sir," denied Bixton. "I stumbled and nearlyfell. In the dark it might have looked different to those two men,though."
"I'd advise you to carry yourself so straight hereafter that what you dowon't 'look different' to any man in your barrack," was the sarcasticretort. "Mind your own business, and keep to your own side of the squadroom.
"As for you," he stared hard at Ignace, "keep your too-ready fists toyourself. A rowdy who can't control himself isn't fit to be a soldier.Loss of self-control in war time has put more than one man against ablank wall, facing a firing squad. If you see a man acting in what youthink is a suspicious manner, report him to your sergeant. Don't fly athim like a savage and start to pummel him. Leave discipline to yourofficers. That's what they're here for.
"You two men are both guilty of disgraceful and disorderly conduct. Ifyou're ever brought on the carpet again for fighting or misbehavior inbarracks it will go hard with you. You will be confined to your companystreet for thirty days, without privileges and with extra fatigue. Ifthat doesn't teach you soldierly behavior, we have stronger methods ofdealing with such ruffians as you."
Having delivered himself of a few further biting remarks relative to hishighly uncomplimentary opinion of both men, the K. O. ordered them backto barracks, instructing the sergeant to keep a close watch on them, andsee that his orders regarding them went into instant effect.
To Ignace it seemed unbelievable that he should be returning tobarracks. He had fully expected to land in the guard-house for at leasttwenty days. He was divided between humiliation at the rebuke he hadjust received, and dazed happiness at the thought of again being withhis Brothers. He was also deeply grateful to Schnitzel, whom he fullyrealized had tried to befriend him.
Though the commanding officer had reprimanded both himself and Bixtonwith impartial severity, Ignace could not know that of the two he hadmade a far better impression on the "ver' cross major." Behind MajorStearns' impassive features had lurked a certain sympathy for the manwho had been too hasty with his fists in the protection of his friend'sproperty. The K. O. was of the private opinion that whereas Ignace hadtold the truth, Bixton had lied. A keen student of human nature, he hadarrived at a fairly correct estimate of the latter. The testimonyagainst him had been too vague, however, on which to hold him for anycharge other than that of disorderly conduct. He had, accordingly, beenobliged to consider the two combatants as equally guilty. He wasstrongly of the belief, however, that Bixton would bear watching, andmade mental note that he would instruct Sergeant Dexter to keep aspecial lookout in that direction.
Bixton's face was not good to see as he returned to barracks. He wasconsumed with a black and unreasoning rage against the world in general.Most of all he hated Schnitzel. Schnitzel had tried to "queer" him.Well, he had failed. Now he, Bixton, would never rest until he "goteven" with the "nosey tattle-tale." He would "queer" Schnitzel nomatter how long it took him. When he was through, Schnitzel would findhimself in for something worse than a "bawling-out" from the K. O.,extra fatigue and thirty days' loss of liberty and privileges.