Part 7

"You'd best stick yourself together again before two o'clock," said Magnus.

"No good," said Rig, taking up another study volume from the heap. "I'll try this a while. Nobody ought to be expected to learn such stuff."

"Put that book down!" Magnus thundered at him, from his own corner.

"Oh, I can put it down easy enough," Rig said rather sulkily. "But I can't see what business it is of yours."

"Now fold your hands, and spell zero ten times backwards," said Magnus, "and then take your Davies, and go to work. Unless you want to fess solid for the rest of your life."

"Well--Say, Kin,--what a good fellow Mr. Upright is."

"Mr. Upright's a cold max. Mind your business."

Pushing and pulling did a good deal for Rig that winter. There was a little stir about the holidays, when the happy upper classmen who had won their Christmas leave went off for unlimited bliss in a limited time, and those who had lost it abused "luck." And there was also the mild interest of a better dinner than usual. But to the plebs, for whom no getting away was possible, and to whom no Point festivities were open, that first Christmas was a thing to live through as best they might. I think some of them despised even the dinner, with the flavour of their mother's cookery yet lingering and fresh.

How hard it was! "The most miserable day they ever spent," as many a one has said since. And the letters and home trifles that arrived in the mail-bag were not much help in the line of bracing up. Magnus put Cherry's bookmark in his Bible, and his mother's picture up his sleeve; while the toilet cushion and cover on which the two girls had bestowed so many loving looks, as they wrought out the pretty devices, were hid away in his clothes bag; no such decorations being allowed in barracks.

Then he wrote letters to them all, then he tried to study, but who can study on a legal holiday?

So at last Cadet Kindred donned his grey fearnaught, wandered down among the rocks and snow-drifts on Flirtation, and listened to the grinding of the ice cakes in the dark river. The sky, blue with an unearthly far-away depth of colour, was pushed back by the whitened hills: all nature seemed locked up and unapproachable and unsympathising.

"Those fair blue heavens so distant are, Their very clearness seems to say How far, how far! They lie above man's stormy way."

And Magnus Kindred felt as desperately lonesome as he thought it was in the power of man to be.

There were no loiterers now under the "Kissing Rock"; no echoing steps within "First-class Cave"; all the old seats and trysting places were snow capped and silent. Even the broad folds of the Post flag would have been some company, a little cheer to his sad eyes as he once more came out upon the plain. But the Post flag was safely folded away; and only a wee, wintry looking storm flag, whipped out in many a past gale, was abroad to brave the keen-edged airs that stirred round Trophy Point. Could anything exceed the dreariness and length of that wretched Christmas Day?

Then such cake for tea--though I doubt if Purcell's best would have suited Magnus that night. He was glad when the drummers began their noisy tattoo, that he might unroll his mattress, go to bed, and forget his misery.

New Year's Day was not quite so bad, perhaps because the coming examination lent at least a dash of red pepper to the monotony, and the first evening of the new year was full of study and talk, questions, fears, and surmisings. Blue letters home went off in troops, and many a man arranged definitely just what he would do after he was "found," of which last fact he felt sure. With the great hop that graced this week, or the gay damsels who graced the hop, the fourth class had nothing to do.

It was natural enough that the strain and fatigue of the examination should be followed by a certain dislike for work at all. The men who were "found" had vanished; the men who had gone up a section were quietly in place, while others had as quietly joined "the Immortals," a better name than its popular substitute. And from now on until June, things would remain pretty much as they were.

No wonder, then, if the reaction set in strong. Snow blocked the favourite cadet walks; permits for skating were cut. No parades, no stirring drills, except in the riding-hall, and the plebs had no good of them.

Then there were stormy days when even the officers' row was gloomy, and things grew very tame indeed. The bent bows ached to spring back, and the pent-up steam was ready to blow off in any direction; for mischief at least makes a change, and to break regulations and not be found out, gave life a certain flavour. It was a pity, but not at all strange.

And so, in some parts of the barracks, license, not liberty, was the popular word. The great point of interest by day and by night being how to defy the blue book, and not get caught.

The leaders were bright men, some of them; personable, pleasant to talk to, fair mathematicians, and capital cooks over the gas-light. Several had friends who sent them money, sweets, mince pies, and tobacco: all smuggled in by unscrupulous outside hands. And these dainties were freely dispensed by the happy owners.

As to the rest, they were light fingered enough for pick-pockets, and could abstract and convey to barracks anything--except "Sammy"--from the mess-hall table; and I have even been told that this one exception lost its place that year.

But so far, you could charge things pretty fairly upon fun, and the delightful exercise of skill. If, as was alleged, they carried off two pounds of sugar for every lemon they got hold of, still, one must do something; and as they said, "the sugar was all paid for out of their own allowance."

A much graver thing--perhaps the worst in the whole business--was the bribing enlisted men. Some free lances, indeed, were much too fond of "chancing" it, to do their frisky deeds by proxy. They fetched for themselves what they wanted, with a daring of which I may not tell. But others would get the sentry at the gate to pass things in; or a bandsman to bring all sorts of contraband goods from the Falls. Other people helped, but a mess-hall waiter could only lose his place and run away, while the sentinels were in trust.

Now Magnus Kindred had not been so brought up, and the sight and hearing of certain things at first made him indignant. But they looked lighter coloured the fifteenth time than the first. The memory of Mr. Upright's words also faded out, and when springtime came, and days grew long and nights were bright, he had fallen back into much the old way, and was training with (or training) the wrong crowd. And he was so agile and wary that he never got caught, which was perhaps his loss.

"I don't see how you work it, Kin," Rig complained one day. "You do everything you have a mind to, and yet even Towser will swear you in for sweet cream every time. But as for me, if both my shoe toes aren't blacked exactly alike, I'm skinned to a certainty."

I am not sure that Magnus relished the compliment,--one has a choice about praise,--but he made no answer, and did not change his too successful ways.

And thus that pleb winter did much work for him in more lines than one. For you cannot keep hard at hard studies, as he did, without a swift and increasing rate of progress; the Hill Difficulty of West Point, as Mrs. Gresham had called it, yielded better and better footing, week by week. But alas, it is also true that you cannot constantly fling even small stones at the law, without that fine pillar of strength's being chipped and frayed, and in a sort defaced. Magnus Kindred did not call his doings by any such dignified name, but all the same, freedom and lawlessness were getting very much mixed in his mind. While the right of the authorities to command, and his own right to disobey, were in a worse tangle still. The wise, dignified, and wholesome rule of "Honour to whom honour, fear to whom fear," was much dethroned in those days.

So the course of the days and the drift of the ways went on. Winter slid early into spring. Company drills began, and the full tide of everything set in, especially walks. Bright parasols appeared on the sidewalk, and the old seat at Gee's Point once more received its guests.

A general stir of preparation was in the air; grass was dressed, branches trimmed, and rubbish burned. Cleaning house was on hand, and dressmakers; and always drills, drills, drills. To the Post in general, these signs meant the coming of the Board of Visitors, and all the whirl of examination week: but to the cadets, chiefly June.

All that spring, in spite of much work, Magnus Kindred wrote home very regularly; long, amusing letters. Telling less of his inner life than the hearts at home would have liked; but the strangeness of what he said of the outer partly covered this up. And I doubt whether Magnus knew how little he told.

Of one thing, however, he was dimly conscious. At first, his mother's expressions of trust and hope, given in Bible words or her own, had been a comfort and help to him; they seemed to bring her nearer and to make him stronger. But of late he had been often inclined to slur over those parts of her letters, and to hurry on "to get the news first"--as he put it to himself. He never stopped to ask why; and it was again Mr. Upright who opened his eyes, and showed him how quietly they had been closing and falling asleep.

There are tears as well as smiles, on that fateful day in June. Here is a mother, who, having had her son within easy reach for the last four years, knows that now, after the short graduation leave, he will be whirled away beyond her ken. To Barrancas, it may be, or Huachuca, or Indian Territory. So the mother breaks down and cries visibly.

And here are roommates, who have stood shoulder to shoulder in all sorts of hardships, now henceforth, until, they are grey-haired men, to live as far apart as this broad country can put them; and it is a sobering thought.

Then, this pretty, timid girl, who has ventured her heart on the insecure ground of cadet soft speeches; or thought out her wedding dress after one particular walk around Flirtation; or tried the class ring on one of her own slender fingers, without being asked to keep it there.

"Oh, it is too dreadful!" she cries, stamping her little foot, and with the tears all ready, when that heartless band fall off into "The Girl I Left Behind Me." "I can _not_ see what they find in that old tune."

It goes hard with her, sometimes, poor child, in matter of health.

And sometimes a like hope is laid down with the grey, and the blue must seek another charmer; and earth is--henceforth and comparatively--a desert. All sorts of things happen at graduation; and when you hear an eager, "You will be sure to come back in August," it does not follow that he will, or that she will wait for him if he does.

But there was no shallow sentiment about Mr. Upright. On the day of his graduation, the young first captain, having put off his cadet honours and come out in plain "cits," went down to the mess-hall dinner to look round the old place once more, and to speak farewell words to his own company and the Corps. Magnus Kindred caught his eye and smile, and started a yell for Mr. Upright, which quite cut short that young man's power to say much; but every word had the resonance of true metal.

"'Quit you like men! be strong.' 'Strong in the Lord, and in the power of his might,'" he said; vainly trying to shake all the hands held out to him. But if the tones faltered, the meaning was full strung, and Magnus once more opened his eyes, and looked at himself and his doings. And the more he looked, the less he liked it.

It was a good day for feeling blue. The sudden quiet, the cut-down numbers; envy of the furlough men, and to a degree, of the graduates, made men restless and dull. No drill, no parade, and not even "a plank" left of the Board of Visitors. Not even many girls to look at; for half the Post, and three-tenths of the visitors, had sailed away with the gay throng on the down boat, and candidates swarmed everywhere.

Magnus Kindred strolled off by himself to the river edge, sat down and looked himself over.

"Absolutely getting used to things!" he confided to his favourite oaks and cedars. And then he began to see what was the character of those things. Of course, a boy could not grow up anywhere, alas! in this poor world, and not now and then hear men swear; but oaths from his _comrades_ had at first shocked him exceedingly. There was one man, for instance, who for a low mark in the section room, a bad ride, a rainy Saturday, would have his mouth so full of cursing that it seemed hard to get it all out. He lived near Magnus; and many a time had the boy secretly stopped his ears to shut out the terrible words. Rig said the air was "blue" with them.

But quick and keen it came to Magnus now, that he had long ceased to take any such precautions. Ah! only last night, after the reading of the black list, he had wondered idly to himself, whether Carr would find something new to say.

Some hot, unwonted tears sprang up at that, with some very pricking thoughts of the four pure hearts at home keeping watch for him. And the thoughts grew and piled up, and sharpened their edges.

I should have said that when the new cadet officers were read out on Graduation Day, Magnus found himself promoted to the rank of corporal. Soon after this the Corps went into camp.

XIV

CAMP GOLIGHTLY

As 'twixt the silences, now far, now nigh, Rings the sharp challenge, hums the low reply.

--_Biglow Papers._

Yearling Camp was wonderfully unlike the dreary pleb camp of a year ago. The special hazers, drill masters, and tormentors of last year were gone away on furlough, or gone for good, and there was a new first class to take the lead. And if everyone was sorry to lose Mr. Upright, "many a dry eye followed" Mr. Devlin and Mr. Prank.

Now the yearlings threw off their reserve, came out of hiding, and were introduced to the ladies. Some wore chevrons, some were drill masters, some frequented the hops, and almost all of them learned to play the cavalier and to win fair companions for walks before breakfast and after drill; for band practice, for band concert, and the delightful wanderings on O. G. P. The long winter months of work were in the dim distance, the next big milestone was marked furlough, and at hand were summer and the summer girl. Sisters came, and cousins; introductions were many, flirtations not a few.

"It's the most delicious place!" cried Nina Dangleum one day. "You are always falling in love, and it never comes to anything."

It was not to be supposed that amid such breezes Magnus Kindred could keep himself unfanned. To give him his due, he had no particular taste for flirting, and did not often mean it; he was too earnest a fellow to like half-way measures, or to go into anything only skin-deep. And I think his own blessed cluster of womankind at home had set the standard too high for him to enjoy drawing a girl on to be silly, even if it was amusing to see. He had also not much taste for talking unmitigated stuff, or much knack at doing it, and at this time of his existence would have nearly endorsed Mr. Weller's words:

"Wot's the use o' calling a young 'ooman a Wenus? Just as well call her a griffin, or a king's arms."

But the gales that stirred about West Point just then were very perfume-laden; and almost any woman might seem like an angel, when you first come out of the double shadow of pleb year and barracks, where tactical officers were your chief glimpses of the outside world.

The soft, "Mr. Kindred, I saw you coming clear across the plain," smoothed down very pleasantly the plumage which had been so roughly stroked the wrong way. The "Tac" might have reported those very bell buttons that very day as in need of rubbing up; but if Miss Flyaway could see them as soon as the man left camp, you perceive it took off the effect.

In matters of discipline, however, and of military precision Magnus was, on the whole, a careful fellow (Rig spelled it "lucky"), and so when other men had their freedom tied up, he was often detailed to walk with the friend or the cousin and give her "a good time." Thus he came in for rather more than his share of sweets.

It was charming to wander almost anywhere in those fair days, and well nigh as good to lie in the shadow of the trees about Fort Clinton, with a book or without. The "without" was Rig's style.

"Kin--I'm no end comfortable!" he declared one day, lying back on the green with his arms above his head.

"Same at same," responded Magnus, from behind his home newspaper. Rig suddenly sat up.

"Say, Kin, I want to go to artillery drill to-morrow night as chief of caissons."

"All right. If you're detailed for guard, shall I take the girl?"

"Steady!"

But after all, so it fell out; and when the Band concert began, Magnus escorted Miss Dangleum through the shadows to where the light battery guns stood ready, helped her to mount a caisson, and was in close attendance till the drum beat. One of these old caissons was quite a favourite "box" with the girls.

"Beastly!" Rig declared it all, when he came off guard next day.

"I saw him having the spooniest sort of a time," said Randolph maliciously. "Chappy and the Kitten were on the next gun. I say, I'm tired walking post. I'm going to bone colours."

"Go in and win," Magnus admonished him.

"Well, you'll see," said Randolph. And to be sure, such a polishing of buttons, and rubbing up of arms, as followed were unknown before in Randolph's tent. Magnus declared that the buttons made him wink clear across A Company Street.

Just at the last possible moment before the critical guard-mounting, Randolph rushed in upon his two friends.

"Say, boys, lend me a pair of white trousers. I can't find any of mine that are fit to go with my buttons."

"Well, I've only one pair fit to go with mine," said Magnus. "Sorry! but they'd be too long for you."

"Rig's will do," said Randolph, making a dash at the pile of trousers. "Thanks awfully. My, how they shine!"

Well, they certainly did. Spotless, unwrinkled, as if they, too, had been "boning" colours. Randolph marched out on higher heels than those prescribed in the regulations, and later on presented himself fearlessly as a candidate for honours. And the inspecting officer's face seemed to say he had reason; Randolph could see approval in every look and gesture. Gloves, buttons, gun were scrutinised; the trousers were dazzling and smooth. Then the officer passed round for a back view. Hair right length, collar right height above the grey, belt and buttons adjusted to a nicety.

"Mr. Randolph," said the cadet adjutant, as he came round in front, "I would have given you colours but for those trousers."

And when Randolph got in and scrutinised himself he found that the borrowed trousers were deeply frayed at the ankle! After which the young man professed himself blue and bored.

"Just my luck," he said. "But I'll get even with him, see if I don't. They were only fringed behind."

Two or three days after this, Randolph accosted Magnus.

"Say, Kin, want some fun? Like to see Coxy scared within an inch of his life?"

"No sort of objection on my part; rather B. J. in you to propose it."

"It's more than propose," said Randolph. "Just you hang round my tent about nine o'clock."

Then after supper Randolph took his stand at the foot of A Company Street, where the plebs were busily going back and forth between the hydrant and the tents.

"Mr. Johnson!" he said, hailing a D Company pleb, but keeping his voice well down.

"Yes, sir."

The pleb slackened his pace a little, but did not look round, and Randolph stood glancing carelessly about, as if thinking of nothing in particular.

"When you have carried in that pail come at once to the darkened tent at the head of the street."

"Yes, sir."

"What is your name, sir?" to another.

"Mr. Ummerstot, sir."

"Mr. Upstart! I would like to know, Mr. Upstart, if you have no superior whose pail needs tilling as well as your own? Go home at once, and then report at my tent. The one with no light in it."

"Yes, sir."

When six more were under orders, Randolph strolled back to the front of his tent, and as fast as the plebs came up, he passed them in. They might stand at ease, but must not talk above a whisper. When they were all in hiding, Randolph spoke through the closed door of the tent.

"Mr. Johnson!" in a low undertone.

"Yes, sir."

"Your special technical name for this evening is _Hippotherium_. Do you hive it?"

"Yes, sir."

"Mr. Upstart! Your special name till tattoo is _Semnopithereus_."

"Mr. Parboil!"

"Mr. Carboil, sir," said the poor pleb, with a mild preference for his own name.

"I said _Parboil_. Your name will be _Cereopithereus_. Mr. Cereopithereus, you are first cousin to Mr. Semnopithereus, and according to Darwin, you each bear the same relation to a man that a pleb does to his superiors."

So the eight names were given, and then Randolph began again:

"Mr. Ichthyosaurus, you and your fellow animals will answer to your special technical names at roll-call, by a growl. You, sir, are an extinct reptile. Did you ever hear an extinct reptile growl?"

"No, sir."

"You other animals, stop that unseemly snicker. Where have you lived, sir, all your life to know so little?"

"In Massachusetts, sir."

"The very headquarters of fossil life. Well, sir, if you have any imagination at all, growl as nearly as you can in the hypothetical voice of that extinct reptile called an Ichthyosaurus."

A low growl, ending in a suppressed chuckle.

"Order there, in the zoölogical museum! Mr. Hippotherium!" and another growl followed in a different key.

"How," said Randolph, when the roll had been gone through, "the countersign is: 'Here comes the unsuspecting stranger!' Do you understand?"

The painful general growl that answered him was cut short by a smothered laugh.

"Attention! When you hear the countersign and see the tent flap lifted you are to growl all together, with your deepest and heaviest roar."

A few minutes passed silently by. Randolph loitered about near the tent, as one might do who found the evening air refreshing. Then suddenly Adjutant Cox passed down the colour line.

"Say, Cox," Randolph hailed him, "come and see what I've got in my tent."

Thinking only of boodle, for which he had a soft spot, Mr. Cox came up, and pushed back the tent flap.

"Here comes the unsuspecting stranger!" cried Randolph, and from the darkness poured forth such a horrible and very prehistoric roar that the tall cadet made one spring across the company street, demanding in no gentle tones of Randolph "What on earth he had got there?" Then, "hiving" the joke, he walked rapidly away. Only one such roar could be risked, and after a little more hectoring the plebs were let out quietly one by one, and Randolph sought out Magnus and Rig to receive their compliments on his success.

XV

SIGNALING FOR HELP

All common things, each day's events, That with the hour begin and end, Our pleasures, and our discontents, Are rounds by which we may ascend.

--LONGFELLOW.

It was a new experience to be on guard as corporal; and instead of the tedious pacing up and down, to go round the camp at set intervals, posting the reliefs, and then to sleep or lounge in the guard tent. No more sounding out the "All's well!" in proper, or improper, style; but it seemed to Magnus that he never missed hearing it.

But whereas in the old days he used to wish every time he called the hour that the beautiful, serious, and weird cry could reach across the continent, even to his mother's ears, now, on the whole, he was content that it did not.