Uncle Sam's Boys as Sergeants: or, Handling Their First Real Commands

CHAPTER XIV
ALGY COMES TO A CONCLUSION

HINKEY, secure in his new retreat, with a new-found "friend" who wanted the services of a man of Hinkey's stripe, was not found.

The evening programme of the military tournament was carried out before all the spectators who could wedge themselves into the grounds, and once more the big circus played to a small crowd.

In the morning the Thirty-fourth entrained and returned to Fort Clowdry.

While in Denver, Lieutenant Ferrers, though he had accompanied the battalion, had been employed in duties that kept him out of the public eye.

Once back at the post, however, Ferrers was warned by both battalion and regimental commanders that he must buckle down at once to learn his duties as an officer.

"I had an idea that being an officer was a good deal more of a gentleman's job," Algy sighed to Lieutenant Prescott.

"An officer's position in the Army is a hard-working job," Prescott rejoined. "However, there's nothing in that fact to make it difficult for an officer to be a gentleman, too. In fact, he must be an all-around gentleman, or get out of the service."

"But gentlemen shouldn't be expected to work – at least, not hard," argued Algy Ferrers.

"Now, where on earth did you get that idea?" laughed Lieutenant Prescott.

"All the fellows I used to know were gentlemen," protested Algy, "and none of them ever worked."

"Then what were they good for?" demanded Lieutenant Prescott crisply.

"Eh?" breathed Ferrers, looking puzzled.

"If they didn't work, if they didn't do anything real in the world, what were they good for? What was their excuse for wanting to live?" insisted Prescott.

"Prexy, old chap, I'm afraid you're an anarchist," gasped Algy, looking almost humanly distressed.

"No; you're the anarchist," laughed the other lieutenant, "for no anarchist ever wants to work. Come, now, Ferrers, buck up! Go over the drill manual with me."

For two days Algy did seem inclined to buckle down to the hard work of learning how to command other men efficiently. Then one night he fell.

That is to say, he went off the reservation without notifying any of his superior officers.

At the sounding of drill assembly the next morning, every officer on post was present with the one exception of young Mr. Ferrers.

"Where's that hopeless idiot now?" muttered Colonel North peevishly, for he had come down to see the battalion drill.

"I haven't the least idea, sir," replied Major Silsbee.

"Send an orderly up to his quarters, Major."

"Very good, sir."

But, as both major and colonel had suspected, Ferrers wasn't in his quarters. Nor was he anywhere else on post apparently.

It was five o'clock that afternoon when Lieutenant Ferrers, in civilian dress, passed the guard house in returning on post.

"Wanted – at the adjutant's office – am I?" queried Algy. "Oh, yes; I imagine I am. Queer place, this Army."

With a sigh of resignation, but appearing not in the least alarmed, Ferrers went to the office of the regimental adjutant.

"You've been away again without leave, and skipped battalion drill and several other duties," said the adjutant dryly.

"Yes," admitted Ferrers promptly. "But I've got a good excuse."

"You'll find Colonel North in the next room ready to hear what your excuse can be."

"I suppose he'll scold me again," murmured Algy resignedly.

"Yes; all of that," admitted the adjutant dryly. "Better go in at once, and take your medicine, for the colonel is about ready to leave and go over to his house."

As Algy entered Colonel North's office the older man lifted his head and looked rather coldly at Mr. Ferrers.

Algy brought up his hand in a tardy salute, then stood there.

But the colonel only continued to look at him. Ferrers fidgeted until he could endure the silence no longer.

"You – you wanted to speak to me, sir?" stammered Algy, the frigid atmosphere disconcerting him.

"I never wanted to speak to a man less in my life," rejoined Colonel North icily.

"Thank you, sir. Then I'll be going."

"Stop, sir!"

"Eh, sir?"

"Mr. Ferrers, I'll listen to whatever you have to say."

"It's all about my being away to-day, I suppose, sir," Algy went on lamely. What he had considered a most excellent excuse on his part now suddenly struck him as being exceedingly lame.

Again Colonel North's lips were tightly compressed. He merely looked at this young officer, but Algy found that look to be the same thing as acute torment.

"Y-yes, sir; I was away to-day sir."

"Further than Clowdry, Mr. Ferrers?"

"Oh, dear, yes, sir," admitted Algy promptly. "Took the train, in fact, sir, and ran up to Ridgecrest. The Benson-Bodges have a new mountain estate of their own up there. Just heard about it the other day, sir. Wrote Benson-Bodge himself, and got a letter yesterday evening. Old Bense invited me to come up and visit himself and family, and not to stand on ceremony. So I didn't."

"No; you didn't stand on any ceremony, Mr. Ferrers," was the colonel's sarcastic response. "Not even the ceremony of formality of obtaining leave."

"But it was all right this time, sir. Quite all right, sir," went on Algy Ferrers with more confidence. "I rather think you know who the Benson-Bodges are, sir? Most important people. A man in the Army can't afford to ignore them, sir – so I didn't."

"I don't know anything about the people you name, Mr. Ferrers, and I don't want to."

"Pardon me, sir, won't you?" demanded Algy beamingly, "but for once I am quite certain you are wrong, sir. Really an Army man can't afford not to know the Benson-Bodges. Old Bense is a cousin of the President. Old Bense has tremendous influence at Washington."

"Then I wonder, Mr. Ferrers, if your friend has influence enough at Washington to save your shoulder-straps for you?"

"Eh, sir? What's that? What do you mean, sir?" asked Algy, again looking puzzled and uneasy.

"I am going to make my meaning very clear, Mr. Ferrers. To-day's conduct is merely the winding up affair of many discreditable pieces of conduct in your part. You have proved, conclusively, that you are not fit to be an officer in the Army."

"Not fit to – " repeated Algy slowly. Then broke into a laugh as he added: "That's a good joke, sir."

"Is it?" inquired Colonel North, raising his eyebrows. "Then I trust that you will enjoy every chapter in the joke, Mr. Ferrers. I am going to order you to your quarters, in arrest. And, as I'm afraid you don't really know what arrest means, I'm going to place a sentry before your door to see that you don't go out."

"For how long, sir?"

"For as long as may be necessary, Mr. Ferrers. Having placed you in arrest I shall report your case through the usual military channels and recommend that you be tried by a general court-martial. I am of the opinion, Mr. Ferrers, that the court-martial will find you guilty and recommend that you be dishonorably dismissed from the service."

"Dishonorably dis – " gasped Algy, feeling so weak that he suddenly dropped down into a chair, unbidden. "Gracious! But that will strike the guv'nor hard! See here, sir," the impossible young officer went on, more spiritedly, as he realized the impending disgrace, "if you're going to do anything as beastly and rough as that, sir – pardon, sir – then I won't stand for it!"

"What will you do, then?" demanded North.

"Sooner than stand for being tried, like an ordinary pickpocket, Colonel, I'll resign!"

"It is not usual, Mr. Ferrers, to allow an officer to resign when he's facing serious charges."

"But I'll resign just the same, sir. Pardon me, sir, but I don't care what you say, now. Things have come to a pass where I've simply got to strike back for myself, sooner than see my family troubled by the idea of my being tried."

"But if your resignation is not accepted, Mr. Ferrers?"

"It will have to be, won't it, if I say that I simply won't bother to stay in the beastly old Army any longer?"

"No; a resignation doesn't have to be accepted, and the fact that you are under charges will operate to prevent the consideration of your resignation until after your trial."

Algy Ferrers looked mightily disturbed over that information.

"Are you serious about wanting to resign and getting out of the Army, Mr. Ferrers?"

"Yes, sir; very much in earnest."

Colonel North thought for a few moments. Then he replied:

"Very good, Mr. Ferrers. You are of no service whatever in the Army, I am sorry to say, though I doubt if you could possibly understand why you are of no use here. If you write your resignation before leaving this room, I will see that the resignation is forwarded, and I will then drop all idea of preferring charges against you."

Colonel North made room at his own desk, after providing the stationery. Algy wrote his resignation as an officer of the Army, signing it with a triumphant flourish.

"I am very glad to have this resignation, Mr. Ferrers," declared Colonel North, speaking more gently at last.

"You can't be any more glad than I am to write it, sir," Algy replied, his face now beaming. "I am glad to cut loose from it all. From the very first day I've been coming more and more to the conclusion, sir, that the Army is no place for a gentleman!"

CHAPTER XV
PLANNING FOR THE SOLDIERS' HUNT

"I'LL go away on the eleven o'clock train to-morrow, sir," stated Algy, as he rose to go. "I won't bother about the few things in my room until I go to Denver and engage a man. Then I'll send my man here to pack up whatever of my belongings are worth having."

"Do you really imagine you can leave the post to-morrow, Mr. Ferrers?" demanded the colonel, a good deal astonished.

"Yes; can't I?"

"Mr. Ferrers, you are of the Army until your resignation has been accepted in the usual way."

"Haven't you accepted it, Colonel?"

"I have no authority to do so. Your resignation will have to go to Washington through the usual military channels, and can be accepted only by the authority of the President."

"Oh, that will be all right," declared Algy promptly. "I'll get my friend, Benson-Bodge, to attend to that."

"I'm afraid he can't do it for you, young man. Mr. Ferrers, you will have to remain at this post, and perform all your duties, until the acceptance of your resignation comes in due form, and through the usual channels. And if you absent yourself from post again, without leave, I'll use the telegraph to make sure that your resignation is refused and that you are obliged to stand trial."

It took Mr. Ferrers until the next morning to recover his good spirits.

Then, immediately after the first drill – which he attended on time – Algy went over to the post telegraph station, where he picked up a blank and wrote this message to his father:

"You'll be glad to know that I'll be with you after a few days more. Have resigned from this beastly Army."

Sergeant Noll Terry was in charge of the office. He looked the message over gravely, then said:

"I am sorry, sir, but I am afraid that I cannot allow this message to go without the written approval of the post commander."

"What's the matter now?" asked Algy.

"Pardon me, sir, but you have referred to the Army in slighting terms. I am certain that Colonel North would censure me if I allowed this message to go."

"But I'm an officer – yet – so what right have you to refuse to send it, Sergeant?"

"It will have to be approved by Colonel North, or his adjutant, before I can allow it to be sent, sir," replied Noll firmly.

"Humph! But it's high time to get out of the Army when a chap can't even write his own telegrams!"

However, Ferrers thought it over for a few moments. Then he wrote this new message:

"Expect me home, soon. Have resigned from the Army."

"Is a chap allowed to send a message like that?" Algy inquired plaintively.

"Certainly, Lieutenant," Noll replied, and handed the message over to a soldier operator.

A glance at the clock in the room told Lieutenant Ferrers that he had a little time to spare before he was due at his next bit of duty. He put in the time strolling about the post. When he saw the brisk, trim-looking soldiers, and received their salutes in passing, Algy began almost to regret the Army that he had given up. Then the remembrance of gay times in the set where he had once been something of a favorite consoled him, and he looked forward to being where he did not have to answer to a colonel as a boy does to a schoolmaster.

"'Pon my word, I think I could like the Army very well, if they weren't so beastly strict about everything," murmured Algy to himself.

Finally a bugle blew, and Lieutenant Ferrers hastened away to another duty, which was not now so distasteful, since there was soon to be an end of it all.

"I used to think being a soldier was all parading," Algy muttered to himself. "I didn't know that there was about six months of never-ending drill behind each parade."

Just before the noon mess call Captain Cortland, in passing, called out to Hal.

"Sergeant, it is getting so well on into the fall of the year, now, that Major Silsbee has suggested to me that some of the men of B company would do well to hit the trail into the mountains."

"Another practice hike, sir?" asked Hal.

"Not exactly, Sergeant. The enlisted men of this post, to say nothing of the officers, would appreciate some supplies of game in place of the regular issues of beef and mutton. Major Silsbee has suggested that I allow some of the men of B company to form themselves into a hunting party and go away on leave into the mountains."

"That would be fine for the men who get away, sir," agreed Hal, his eyes shining at the thought.

"How would you like, Sergeant, to make up such a party and head it?" continued Captain Cortland.

"I head the hunting party? I would like it immensely, sir, but for one objection. I am not an experienced hunter."

"But you are a non-commissioned officer who would be sure to preserve whatever discipline may be needed on a hunting trip, and that is the matter of greatest importance. As to experience in hunting, there are some highly experienced hunters in B company, and you could include them in your party."

"How much discipline is needed, sir, with a hunting party?"

"Not too much," replied Captain Cortland. "A soldier's hunting party is something of a picnic affair, and discipline is relaxed as much as possible. You want just enough discipline to keep order and make the men pull together. For, on one of these hunting parties, recollect that the men are actually expected to bag enough game, and to bring it back with them."

"I thank you, Captain, and I shall be delighted if I can persuade enough of the really useful men to go with me. But I suppose you know, sir, that there is still a good deal of suspicion felt about me in barracks."

As Hal said this he flushed a bit.

"Oh, that old affair, Sergeant, of Private Green and his missing money?" replied the captain. "Sergeant, no suspicion ever justly directed itself against you, and you must deny, even to yourself, that any of the suspicion still lingers in the minds of any of the men."

"Thank you, sir."

"But you haven't answered me as to whether you will head the hunting party."

"I shall do it gladly and eagerly, sir."

"Very good; then pick out about fourteen men to go with you, and make sure that they all wish to go, as no soldier is compelled to go on a hunting trip against his own wishes. It will take you about two days to reach the hunting grounds, Sergeant, and about two days more to get back. So you shall have fourteen days' leave, which will give you about ten days of actual hunting."

"I thank you again, sir."

"Go and find your men."

"Very good, sir. May I include Sergeant Terry?"

"If he can arrange for relief at the telegraph station."

In his spare time during the rest of the day Sergeant Hal Overton was extremely happy. He was busy interviewing soldiers, and in finding out who were the most experienced hunters, for there was big game to be had up in the mountains.

Noll was invited first of all. Terry succeeded in arranging for relief from telegraph duties, so that he could go.

Corporal Hyman proved to be one of the skilled hunters, and he at once agreed, besides suggesting others who should be invited.

"It's a great picnic, Kid Sergeant; you don't know what bully fun it is until you get there," Hyman assured Hal.

Lieutenant Ferrers dropped in at the officers' club well ahead of the dinner hour that evening.

"Yes, fellows," he drawled, "I'm going back to life and civilization. No more of this boarding school and chain-gang life for me."

The other officers present laughed good-humoredly.

"Yet, just as sure as you're alive, Ferrers, the day will come, and before long, when you'll wish yourself back once more among the regulars' uniforms."

"Maybe," sniffed Algy doubtfully.

An orderly appeared in the doorway, yellow envelope in hand.

"Telegram for Lieutenant Ferrers," he announced.

"Right here, my man. Thank you."

Algy tore open the envelope, after apologizing, and glanced at the bottom of the message.

"It's from the guv'nor," he announced. "I expect he's getting ready to kill the fatted calf against my arrival home."

Then Algy fell to reading the message. As he started his brows puckered. Once he gasped. Then, at the end, he burst forth:

"My, but the guv'nor seems almost annoyed," cried Algy, his face reddening.

"Anything serious?" inquired Holmes politely.

"Read it aloud to the rest, old chap," begged Algy, passing the telegram to Lieutenant Holmes. This was the message that the latter thereupon read aloud:

"You blithering young idiot! I worked like blazes to get you into the Army, in order to give you one last chance to grab at a little manhood. I've set the government machinery going at Washington, and your resignation won't be accepted. Within a day or two you'll receive orders to report at the Infantry School at Fort Leavenworth, Kansas. There you'll have to work sixteen hours out of every twenty-four, but it will make a man of you if anything can, and you'll learn all about becoming a real infantry officer. Don't send me any more news about resigning. If you quit the Army, or are kicked out of it, I'll separate you forever from every cent of my money.

"(Signed) Donald Ferrers."

There was silence in the club parlor, until it was broken by Algy, who wailed plaintively:

"That's the guv'nor. That's the guv'nor every time. Says he'd separate me from every cent of his money. And he'd do it, too! Fellows, I'm afraid I've simply got to like the Army."

"That's your trump card, now, Algy," observed Jerrold, of A company.

"Some class about your father, Ferrers, isn't there?" asked Lieutenant Prescott.

"Oh, he's a fine old fellow," replied Algy loyally. "But he has a confoundedly abrupt way about him sometimes. You see, he didn't – er – start life exactly as a gentleman. He had to work hard most of his life to get what money he has, and I suppose – well, I guess his hard work has made him pig-headed to some extent."

Now that he knew that he would have to stay in the Army, young Ferrers found himself hating it worse than ever.

Nor did the information that his comrades offered him console him any. He was assured that there would be no doubt about his learning all of his military duties at Fort Leavenworth – if he lived to get through the ordeal.

In the Army there is an officers' school for every branch of the service. Officers attend as "student officers"; the course is severe, but the officer seldom fails to learn whatever he goes to such a school to learn.

Two days later there were two officers leaving the post.

Algy went down to the station to take up his journey to the new station in Kansas. Despite his seeming inability to learn to be a soldier, Ferrers had made himself well enough liked personally, so many of the officers accompanied him as far as the Clowdry station.

Lieutenant Prescott was going with the hunting party. He had succeeded in procuring leave for hunting, and in getting himself invited to go along with Sergeant Hal Overton's party.

CHAPTER XVI
HAL'S GUN MAKES THE REST CURIOUS

"OH, my, but that smells good!"

The words came in a sort of ecstasy from the lips of Sergeant Noll Terry, as, gun in hand, he tramped into camp with Corporal Hyman and three others.

"Bear meat," said Slosson briefly. "Sergeant Overton and Lieutenant Prescott brought it in just before noon with their compliments."

"Where are they now?"

"Somewhere out in the world," replied Private Kelly, nodding at the mountain tops beyond. "They went out to see how much more they could get."

Slosson had mentioned the sergeant before the lieutenant, but that was not an unpardonable breach of etiquette, out here in the wilds.

More especially was it proper because Sergeant Hal, and not the handsome, fine, young West Pointer, commanded this camp and detachment.

"Where are your mates, Sarge?" inquired Slosson.

"Oh, I left my crowd," smiled Noll. "They won't be in for an hour yet, in all probability."

"Get anything, any of you?" queried Kelly.

"Not a thing, up to the time I quit," sighed Noll.

"Humph! We've all got to get a brace on us," muttered Slosson. "This is our third day in camp, and what have we killed so far? Just enough meat to satisfy the appetites we've developed up here in the hills!"

Sergeant Hal Overton's hunting detachment of the Thirty-fourth was now encamped up in the highest points, almost, of all the Colorado Rockies.

Entraining, the party had gone some sixty miles over the rails. At the station where the men detrained two heavy Army wagons had been awaiting them, these wagons having been sent on two days ahead.

On the first day after leaving the railway the hunting detachment had marched some eighteen miles; on the second day fifteen miles had been covered, and now camp was pitched more than ninety miles from Fort Clowdry.

The little village of wall tents stood some fifty feet away from where Privates Slosson and Kelly were now busy getting the evening meal.

There was still about an hour of daylight left. It was not expected that many of the hunters would be in much before the sun went down behind the western tops.

"It's chilly to-night," announced Sergeant Terry, standing back and watching the two soldiers at work.

"It's hot," grumbled Slosson, piling on more wood and stirring one of the open cook fires.

"All a matter of where you happen to be standing," laughed Noll, diving into the tent that he and Hal occupied. When Sergeant Terry came out again he had on his olive tan overcoat.

Three days of incessant hunting had been indulged in. "Enjoyed" would have been the word, only that so far the men of the detachment had not struck very heavy luck with the game.

It was not Hal's fault. He, confessedly, was not an experienced hunter in the Rockies. Corporal Hyman was an old hand at the hunt, and there were other soldiers in the detachment who could find the wild game when there was any to be found. Up to date, however, the game had been scarce. A few mountain antelope and some smaller animals – but these the hungry hunters had eaten as fast as they bagged.

The party consisted of Sergeants Overton and Terry, Corporals Hyman and Cotter, twelve privates and Lieutenant Prescott.

Mr. Prescott was not a detailed member of the detachment. He had secured leave from the post and had asked to be accepted as a guest. For this reason the young West Pointer did not attempt to command in camp. Each morning the officer accompanied which ever party of hunters he chose.

Every day two of the soldiers were left behind for the double duty of watching the camp and of cooking the morning and evening meals. For the noon meal, or in place thereof, the hunters carried such dry food as they could stow away in their pockets.

"How big was the bear before you cut him up?" asked Noll, standing about and watching the cooks.

"About a hundred and thirty pounds, I guess," replied Slosson.

"How far away from here did they shoot him?"

"Over a mile."

"Hm! Hal must have had a long, heavy pack."

"The lieutenant was carrying the carcass when they reached camp," retorted Private Kelly. "The lieutenant did his full share in packing the meat in. That lieutenant ain't a dude."

"I know he isn't," Noll nodded quietly. "Still I didn't suppose Hal would feel like letting an officer make a pack animal of himself."

"Your bunkie ain't no dude, either, Sarge," continued Kelly. "Him and the lieutenant are two men of pretty near the same color."

"White isn't a color, anyway," laughed Noll.

"Maybe it isn't," assented Private Kelly.

Noll turned to look at the descending sun.

"My, I don't believe I've ever been as hungry as I am now," complained Noll.

"Nothing doing, Sarge, until the rest of the crowd comes in," grinned Slosson.

"Oh, that's easy enough for you fellows to say," grunted Noll. "You two have been in camp all day, and you had a big, filling, hot meal at noon. All I had at noon was a hard tack and a half."

"You could have carried more," insisted Slosson.

"I had more, but I didn't find water anywhere and hard tack is abominably dry stuff to get down without help."

"Go over to the bucket and help yourself to water now, Sarge," suggested Private Kelly teasingly.

"I think I will," agreed Noll, turning.

"Take a lot of it," urged Slosson. "Water, when you get enough of it, is mighty filling."

"I'll brain you, if you go on making fun of a hungry man," warned Sergeant Noll Terry, as he reached for the dipper hanging on a nail driven into a tree trunk.

"That would look like losing your temper," retorted Kelly. "Now, what are you mad with us for, Sarge? Haven't we been in camp all day, working like Chinamen just so you fellows can have something to eat when you get back from the day's stroll?"

"Well, I'm back," argued Noll.

"And you'll eat, Sarge, when the rest eat."

"What's in that oven?" queried Noll, pausing before an Army cookstove.

"Mince pie," remarked Kelly quietly.

"Oh, you fiend!" growled Sergeant Noll. "To torment a hungry man with lies like that!"

"Lies, eh?" roared the soldier. "A Kelly to stand by and have a sergeant boy tell him his mother raised a family of liars. Ye sassenach, take one peep – and then may yer stomach cave in before the meal's laid!"

Kelly cautiously opened the oven door for a brief moment, affording Noll an instant's glimpse of three browning pies.

"And there's six more of them hid here," added Kelly tantalizingly.

"And you have the cruel nerve to tell that to a man dying of starvation?" demanded Sergeant Noll with heat. "Kelly, it takes me four seconds to get my overcoat off, and only two seconds to get off the blouse underneath!"

"At that rate, how long would it take you to undress altogether?" demanded Kelly indifferently. "For the last five minutes I've had my eyes on ye. I've been thinking how fine ye'd look in grave clothes."

"I don't have to take off many clothes, Kelly, to be down to fighting trim enough to thrash you!"

"I wouldn't take advantage of ye," protested Kelly generously. "Sure it would be no victory for a Kelly to whip a dying man."

"What's the fight about, men?" inquired a jolly voice.

Lieutenant Prescott had entered camp unnoticed. Instantly the soldiers straightened up, raising their hands to their caps in salute. Mr. Prescott returned their salutes. On first meeting the officer in the morning the men saluted him, then again when he returned from the day's hunt. For the rest of the time, at Lieutenant Prescott's own request, they treated him like one of themselves.

"This sassenach is threatening to murder me, Lieutenant," complained Kelly, "just because I showed him a pie and wouldn't let him eat it on the spot."

"That would be enough to make me commit murder, too, if I weren't a guest here," replied the lieutenant gravely, as he reached down the dipper and helped himself to a drink from the water bucket. "How many pies have you there?"

"Nine, sir, when the three in the oven come out."

"What kind?"

"Mince."

"Um-um-um!" quoth the officer.

"The sun's going so low now, Kelly, that I'm minded to let you live another day," broke in Sergeant Noll.

"Aw, that's just because there's company present," growled Kelly, with a side glance at the lieutenant.

"Supper ready?" hailed a distant voice.

"Will be, when you come in and fetch the wood to cook with," Slosson hailed back through his hands.

A growl of desperation came from the party headed by Corporal Hyman. Then in they tramped, but they carried only their rifles.

"What have ye been doing the long day?" demanded Kelly, with a keen look at the party.

"Getting up an appetite for supper," retorted Corporal Hyman.

"But the game?"

"'Twas so heavy we gave up carrying it," grinned Corporal Hyman.

"The boys back in barracks have had their mouths watering for game for days," grunted Slosson. "How'll we ever break the news to 'em?"

The soldiers shook their heads blankly.

"Want a suggestion as to the gentlest way of breaking the news back home, Slosson?" inquired Lieutenant Prescott.

"We'd surely be grateful for it, sir," answered Slosson.

"Then we'll coax Sergeant Overton to wire back requesting full rations for seventeen days for seventeen men."

"It'd be a bad trick, sir."

"How so?"

"The post commissary sergeant would be that mad he'd poison the grub, sir, before shipping it."

"I believe he would," agreed Mr. Prescott thoughtfully. "For the men back in barracks are looking for at least four tons of game food."

Bang! Bang!

"Hello! What's that?" cried Noll, starting up and listening.

"Queer question for a soldier to be askin'," mocked Private Kelly.

Bang-bang-bang!

"Wirra, but that feller can't stop to take breath between his shooting," remarked Private Kelly.

"Those shots," declared Lieutenant Prescott, "sound out in the direction where I left Sergeant Overton."

"He's struck something," declared Noll gleefully.

"Some of us had better go out there," hinted Lieutenant Prescott, rising from the campstool that he had brought out from his tent. "Either the sergeant is in trouble, or else he's bagging a wagonload of game."

"Bang-bang!" sounded the distant rifle.

"He's moving, anyway, whoever he is," declared Sergeant Noll.

"Hello, there!"

"'Lo yerselves!" yelled back Kelly.

Another group of men came, and right after them the remainder of the hunters save one.