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162 Dick, as they went to their room early that evening.

"A shift? What do you mean?"

"Why some of your friends have changed over to the east barrack, I hear. I thought maybe you'd want to go too?"

"Do you want me to go?"

"Indeed I don't?" and Dick spoke very earnestly.

"All right. When I want to leave you I'll let you know," and Paul slapped Dick on the back in a fashion that told what his feelings were in the matter.

A little later mysterious steps in the corridor, and subdued knockings on nearby doors told Paul and Dick that something unusual was going on.

"Hazing," said Paul. "We're immune. Let's take it in."

"I don't like to haze fellows," said Dick. "It's all right when they're your size, but all the chaps who came in lately are smaller than I am."

"That won't make any difference to Dutton and his crowd. They'll haze 'em anyhow, and we might as well see the fun. A fellow who can't stand a little hazing is no good."

"That's so. Guess I'll go. I don't mind it if it isn't too rough. I wouldn't mind being hazed myself. It would give me a chance to make a rough house for Dutton and his cronies."

"Come on then. Let's go to the gym. I heard


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Rh that they're going to haze a bunch of 'em there."

"What about Major Rockford?"

"Well, I guess he and the colonel know about it, but they won't interfere unless it gets too strenuous."

Dick and Paul found a large crowd of the older cadets already gathered in the gymnasium. In one corner was huddled a rather frightened group of freshmen, who were waiting their turn to be grilled. They had been rounded up from their rooms by a committee appointed for that purpose.

"Now, fellows," said Dutton, who, as usual, assumed the leadership, "we'll work 'em off in bunches. Put two or three of 'em in a blanket and toss 'em up for a starter."

"Some of 'em may get hurt," objected Stiver. "We'd better take 'em one at a time."

"Aw, you're afraid! Besides, we haven't time. Here, Beeby, grab a couple of 'em and pass 'em over."

Captain Beeby of Company B grasped a cadet in either hand, and shoved them toward Duton. The latter already had one, and the three lads were pushed down into a large blanket which had been spread for that purpose.

"Grab the corners and up with 'em!" called Dutton. "Toss 'em as high as you can."

"Suppose the [sic] fall out?" objected Lieutenant Jim Watkins.

license: Creative Commons - Attribution Share-Alike - https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0/


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164 "It won't matter. There's a gym. mat under 'em."

Up into the air went the unfortunate lads, clinging together in a sort of bunch, and struggling to see which one was to be underneath in the fall. Down they came into the blanket, but the impact was so heavy that it was torn from the grasp of the cadets holding it, and the freshmen landed on the mat with a thump and many squeals.

"That's the way!" cried Dutton with a laugh. "Now, once more."

"Let's take some others," proposed Beeby.

"No, they haven't had enough."

So, in spite of their struggles and protests, the lads were tossed again. Then three more took their places. They, too, had a hard time, one falling over the edge of the blanket and partly off the mat. But he was game and never made a sound.

"Now for the slide of death!" cried Button.

"What's that?" asked several of his cronies.

"I'll show you," he said.

From the top of the gymnasium there hung a long rope, running over a pulley. Button made a loop in one end, and then took hold of the other.

"Tie a couple of 'em up in blankets," he ordered, and two of the struggling cadets were made up into a rough bundle. Dutton then passed several coils of the long rope about them.


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 "Pull 'em up!' he ordered next, and willing hands aided him in hoisting the lads toward the roof of the gymnasium.

"You are now about to take the slide of death!" called Button, when the freshmen were close against the pulley, and fully forty feet above the floor. "We're going to let you come down on the run"

A scream from one of the lads in the blanket high up in the air interrupted him.

"You'll frighten him!" called Dick.

"What's that to you? Mind your own affairs, and we'll run this," said Dutton. "Or maybe you'll get your hazing, which we omitted last time."

"Go ahead," said Dick. "But that's too risky."

"Aw, cut it out, Hamilton," said Stiver. "We ain't going to hurt 'em."

But this assurance could not be heard by the lads in the blanket, who could not see.

"Let her slide!" cried Dutton, and he and his chums released their grasp on the rope, which was wound about a post.

Down, on the run, came the unfortunate cadets, and from the cries they uttered they must have imagined that they were about to be dashed to the floor. Then Dick saw that several mats were right under them, in case of accident.

But it was not the intention of Dutton to run any risks. At first the rope was paid out swiftly, and then it was gradually tightened against the


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166 post, until the speed of the falling cadets was slackened, and they came to a stop a few inches above the mats.

"The next batch won't get off so lucky!" announced Button, as he commanded that some more be wrapped up in the blanket. "We'll bump them."

This news was sufficient to cause a panic among the candidates still remaining, but their protests were of no avail, and they came down with considerable force on the mats, but no one was hurt.

Then the water cure was administered to a number, the streams being poured down their trouser legs, amid the laughter of the unfortunate ones who were exempt. As the gymnasium was kept quite warm this ordeal was not so bad as might be supposed. Still, it was not pleasant, but it was part of the game.

A particularly tall freshman was stretched out, or, rather suspended on the flying rings, until he looked like some soaring eagle. He struggled, but to no effect, and had to take his medicine. Others were blindfolded, and made to fight with blown-up bladders, some were tied in pairs on trapezes, and a number were made to do ridiculous stunts, to the more or less enjoyment of the older cadets.

"Well, I guess that's all," announced Dutton, a little before it was time for taps to sound. "Unless we take Hamilton."

"I'm willing," said Dick, with a grim smile.


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Rh "He's too willing. He'd knock a lot of us around," whispered Stiver to Dutton.

"We'll postpone your initiation," remarked the Captain of Company A. "Come on, fellows, there goes tattoo. Half an hour to lights out."

Matters more quickly adjusted themselves following the opening of the winter term, than they did at the beginning of the fall one, as there were fewer new cadets. Lessons were quickly under way, together with a few drills, out of doors when the weather permitted it, otherwise in the big hall.

The lake froze over, and Dick and the other lads had their fill of skating, races being held every afternoon. In a number of these, particularly the long distance ones, Dick came in a winner.

Then there were snowball fights between the different companies, both on foot and mounted on horses, with wooden shields. These were lively affairs, and were enjoyed by all.

Dick took his part in the winter sports, but, though he had increased his friends by the addition of several freshmen, particularly Payson Emery, the lad whose knocking down by Dutton he had resented, he made no progress toward getting intimate with the upperclassmen.

"But I've got half a term yet," thought Dick.

With the advent of winter, affairs in the town of Kentfield, which was about two miles from where the academy was located, became more lively. There were theatrical and other


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168, and the cadets, when they could not get permission to attend these, used to run the guard.

Usually there was little risk in this, as the cadet officers would not report their friends, unless some member of the academy faculty happened to hear a late-staying party come sneaking in, and then the young officer on guard knew he had to make some sort of a report or be punished himself.

One night there was a large and rather fashionable dance given in town, by some friends of Dutton's family. He was invited, together with some of his cronies, but he was refused permission to go, as he had broken several rules of late.

"Well, I'm going anyhow," he announced to Stiver. "I guess I can run the guard all right, and get back. There are some girls I want to meet."

So Dutton and Stiver, and one or two others, went.

Dick was on guard, as it happened, at the barracks where Dutton and the others had their rooms. He was patrolling his post long after midnight, expecting soon to be relieved, when he saw some shadowy forms stealing along the hedge.

"Halt!" he cried, bringing his rifle up.

"Gee! It's Hamilton!" he heard some one say, and he recognized Stiver's voice.


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Rh "Then I guess it's all up with us," announced Dutton, straightening up, and, with his chums, approaching Dick.

The young millionaire said nothing.

"Are you going to let us in? We haven't the countersign," said Button, with an uneasy laugh.

"You can go in," replied Dick, producing the key to the front door.

"And I suppose you'll squeal in the morning," went on Dutton, as he and his cronies entered.

Dick didn't answer.

"You should have known better than to risk going, Dutton," said Stiver. "Of course he'll tell. He owes you too much not to."

But Dick didn't tell, and Dutton's breach of discipline was not discovered.


text: Dick Hamilton's Cadet Days/Chapter 20

title: Dick Hamilton's Cadet Days/Chapter 20


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", Dick," remarked Paul Drew, one afternoon, as he and his roommate came in from drill, "I see you're on the ball committee."

"What ball, and what committee?"

"The fancy dress ball, if I have to go into all the details. You know the academy has one every year, and it's a swell affair, let me tell you. Lights, gay music, pretty girls"

"Especially pretty girls," said Dick with a smile. "But what committee am I on?"

"Arrangements. Didn't you see the list posted in the mess hall? I don't envy you. There will be lots to do."

"Suppose you take pity on my ignorance, and go a little more into details."

Whereupon Paul did, describing the affair at length. It was to take place, as usual, in February, and this time would be held on Washington's birthday.

"Maybe we won't have fun!" exclaimed Paul. "There'll be all sorts of costumes, and the


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Rh will be immense. You'll have to help with them."

"Then I'd better get busy," declared Dick. "I must see who's chairman of my committee, and report for work. What character are you going to portray, Paul?"

"I think I shall go as a Colonial officer. I always did like a powdered wig."

"Talcum powder, instead of gun powder," retorted Dick. "That's the calibre of such tin soldiers as you."

"Halt!" called Paul, as Dick prepared to run away. "As punishment I'll not introduce you to a certain pretty girl I know, who is coming to the dance."

"Then I'll surrender and beg your pardon!" cried Dick.

"What part will you play?" asked Paul. "You'd look swell dressed as an Indian."

"I think I'll take the part of a cannon swab, and then I'll not have to bother about a suit. But more of that later. I'm going to see what I have to do."

Dick found out from the chairman of his committee that there was plenty of work to prepare for the fête, and he did his share. One day he had to go to a nearby town to purchase some of the decorations.

It was two days before the fancy dress ball was to take place, and, having made his purchases, Dick prepared to return to the Academy. As he


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 of an enormous whole. The sketch of Bellinzona Ruskin had drawn from the priest's garden, a lovely spot on a rock near the chapel and house, on the side of a steep craggy cliff, the little posts carefully bricked up to support a patch of mould here and there, on one of which was planted corn. Among it grew white lilies seen against a further piece of brightest green grass; beyond lay the ravine of the Ticino, and beyond again the mountains. … Miss B. has been offered the Secretaryship of the Children's Hospital; but her father and mother say that no daughter ought to leave home except to be married, or to earn her own living, witness Florence Nightingale, who has returned a mere wreck. Why if ever there was an example fitted to stir up heroism it might be hers! I wonder if her mother were asked whether she was prouder and fonder of her before her work or after? or whether she grudged the health which she herself has sacrificed so willingly? I am going daily to Dulwich. It is a long walk even if I take omnibus between Charing Cross and Camberwell Gate.


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 was about to board a trolley car, which ran near Kentfield, he heard a voice calling:

"How are you, Dick Hamilton?"

He turned, to see a tall well-built lad, of about his own age, who was smiling at him in a friendly fashion. At first he did not recognize the youth.

"You don't know me, I see," went on the other. "I once had the pleasure of interviewing you about a gold brick game"

"Why, Larry Dexter! How are you?" cried Dick, turning aside from the car, and holding out his hand to the other. "I did not get a good look at you, or I would have known you at once. What good wind blows you here? Can't you stay and come over to our Academy? Where have you been? How is the newspaper business?"

"My, you'd do for a reporter yourself?" exclaimed Larry Dexter, with a smile. "I'm glad you haven't forgotten me though. Have you been swindled lately? I'd like a good story. The one I came down here after didn't pan out."

Those of you who have read my books in the "Newspaper Series" will at once recognize the lad who greeted Dick. He was Lawrence Dexter, a reporter on the New York Leader, and, as related in the volume called "Dick Hamilton's Fortune," he had met our hero when the latter had narrowly escaped being swindled by a sharper in the metropolis. Larry, as all his friends called him, had managed to get a good "story" from the experience of Dick, who was on a visit to New


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Rh York, with a number of boy friends. The incident is mentioned in the third volume of the Newspaper Series, "Larry Dexter's Great Search," where the young reporter does some detective work.

After Dick had given Larry the story of the attempted swindle, the young reporter took the millionaire's son to the newspaper office, and showed him something of how a great daily is published. The two lads had struck up quite a friendship, and they had pleasant memories of each other.

"What are you doing here?" asked Dick, as they walked up the street with his newspaper acquaintance.

"Oh, I came here on a peculiar robbery yarn, but it turned out to be an ordinary affair, and not worth much of a story. I sent in the account by wire, and, as a reward for my past valuable services to the paper. I have been given a couple of days' leave of absence. You see, the managing-editor thinks quite highly of me," and Larry made a mock bow.

"Then you're just in time," said Dick.

"How so?"

"Why, you can spend a few days with me. There's going to be a big masked ball at the military academy where I attend, and perhaps you'd like to see it.'

"I think I would, if the military authorities will admit a mere civilian."


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174 "I'm sure they will. Come along back with me. I'll introduce you to Colonel Masterly, and you can bunk in with Drew and me. Paul Drew is my roommate—a fine fellow."

"Oh, I'm afraid Til put you out."

"You couldn't do that, Larry. Come on. We'll have some fun."

So Larry Dexter accompanied Dick back to the Academy, where he was speedily made welcome by Colonel Masterly and members of the latter's staff.

"We would be very glad to have you remain and witness some evolutions of the cadets, a day or so after the ball," invited the colonel. "They will possibly interest you."

"I should be glad to," replied Larry, "but I can't stay long enough. It is very kind of you to invite me to the ball."

Possibly Colonel Masterly had a purpose in seconding Dick's invitation to this affair. The head of the military school was not averse to a little free advertising for the Academy, and he thought perhaps Larry might "write up" an account of the ball. Which, as a matter of fact, Larry did, and a fine account it was.

The reporter, though Dick invited him to don a costume, thought it better not to, and, when the night of the gay affair came, Larry was in sober black, forming a strange contrast to the lads in gay uniforms. The dresses of the young ladies and the uniforms or costumes of the cadets, with


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Rh the hundreds of electric lights, the gay streamers and flags festooned about the gymnasium, made the apartment a brilliant picture. The Academy cadet band struck up a lively march, and the dancers paraded around the room, two by two. Dick was not in this, as he had not yet made the acquaintance of any of the girls, and after ascertaining that Larry Dexter was in a position where he could see well, our hero retired rather disconsolately to a secluded corner. He saw Paul Drew dancing with a very pretty girl, and was just beginning to envy him, when his roommate walked up, and introduced her to Dick.

"Allow me to present my friend, Dick Hamilton," said Paul with a low bow. "Mr. Hamilton—Miss Fordice. Dick is a better dancer than I am," added Paul.

It was plainly a hint to Dick, who at once took advantage of it, and asked:

"May I have the honor?"

"If it pleases you, sir," replied the girl, with a mischievous smile, and an old-fashioned courtesy.

Dick led her into a two-step, and they were soon whirling about. But Dick was not selfish, and he knew better than to keep Paul's partner away from him for long, so, making some excuse, he led Miss Fordice back to his roommate.

"I'll introduce you to some other girls, after this dance, Hamilton," Paul called back to him.

Dick noticed that a tall, dark girl, who was standing near one of the pillars, started at the


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 sound of his name. A moment later she advanced toward him, appeared to hesitate,and then came forward.

"Excuse me," she said, "but are you Dick Hamilton?"

"I am," said our hero, secretly delighted at the chance of talking to the girl.

"I thought I heard Mr. Drew call you that. You must think it dreadfully forward of me to speak to you without an introduction"

"Nothing of the sort," said Dick promptly.

"But I know friends of yours," went on the girl. "I am Miss Mabel Hanford, and I know Birdy Lee, who lives in your town—I mean in the place where you come from. She and I used to be great chums. We went to school together."

"Indeed," said Dick. "Birdy Lee and I are well acquainted."

"So she said when I wrote to her, telling her I was coming to this ball. She suggested that I might meet you, and when I heard your name mentioned, I couldn't help speaking."

"I am glad you did," said Dick, smiling.

"Won't you come over and let me introduce you to my mother?" went on Miss Hanford. "I feel as if I had known you a long time, for Birdy often spoke of you in her letters to me."

"I am glad she did," said Dick, gallantly.

Mrs. Hanford greeted him kindly, evidently approving of her daughter's action.


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Rh "May I have the next dance?" asked Dick of the daughter.

"Yes," said Miss Hanford, blushing a little. "But I hope you don't think I spoke to you just to have you dance with me "

"Not at all," Dick hastened to say.

"Because my card is nearly filled now," she went on.

"I hope I may find room to put my name down in several places."

"You may look. I think the next waltz is open."

"It seems to be the only one," said Dick, ruefully.

A little later he and the girl were sailing about the room to the strains of a dreamy waltz. Dick was a fine dancer. Miss Hanford was his equal, and the two made a pleasing appearance on the big ballroom floor.

"Where were you?" asked Paul, as Dick came walking up to him after the young millionaire had taken his partner back to her mother. "I was looking for you to introduce a girl to you."

"I managed to meet one myself."

"Who?"

"Miss Mabel Hanford."

Paul whistled.

"What's the matter?" asked Dick. "Isn't she all right?"

"I should say so! Every fellow here is anxious to dance with her, but Dutton seems to


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178 monopolize her. He seems to think he's engaged to her."

"I don't believe he has any right to think that," spoke Dick warmly. "She's a very nice girl. I wish I had met her earlier in the evening." The band was playing another waltz.

"So do lots of other fellows, I guess. But you're doing pretty well. There goes Dutton with her now," continued Paul.

Dick looked on, with envious eyes. Though Dutton and Miss Hanford were waltzing about, she did not seem at ease. Her face was flushed, and Dutton looked angry. When the dance came to an end he left her abruptly.

Dick strolled over, casually, though his heart was beating faster than usual.

"You look warm," he said to the girl.

"Yes, the room is very close," she replied, and she fanned her face with a filmy lace handkerchief.

"Perhaps you would like an ice."

"Indeed I should."

"I'll get you one," promised Dick. Then, waxing bold, he looked at her program.

"What are you looking for?" she asked with a laugh. "To see what sort of ice I prefer? It's not there, but I'll take orange, if you can get one."

"I was looking to see, if by any good fortune you had another vacant place on your card."

"I'll make one for you," she said with a smile,


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Rh as she crossed out a name. "Tantrell can look for another partner," she added.

"Who may Tantrell be?" asked Dick, as he put his name in place of the erased one.

"My cousin. He brought me here, but he doesn't care much for dancing. I know he'll be glad to have you relieve him."

"Not half so glad as I am," retorted Dick quickly. "Now I'll get you the ice."

As he walked away he saw Dutton eyeing him angrily.

"Probably he doesn't like me to be talking to her," thought Dick.

There was quite a crush in the refreshment room, and, in spite of the fact that he was a member of the arrangement committee, Dick had some difficulty in getting an ice for Miss Hanford. As he struggled through the crush of gay dancers with it he tripped, and, to save himself, involuntarily threw his hands forward. The ice slipped from the plate, and went splashing full against the back of a cadet dressed in an elaborate Colonial uniform, with a white satin coat. The highly-colored ice made a big, blotchy stain on the garment.

The cadet whirled like a flash. It was Dutton.

"Who did that?" he cried, as he saw a little puddle forming at his feet, where the fast melting ice lay.

"I did," answered Dick promptly. "It was an accident, Captain Dutton."


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 "An accident?" There was a sneer in the other's tone.

"An accident," retorted Dick, as he turned away.

"Here! Where are you going?" cried Button. Several turned to stare at him, for his manner toward Dick was most insulting.

"I am going after another ice for Miss Hanford," said the young millionaire quickly.

"Wait a minute!" ordered Dutton, in the voice he used on parade.

"Not now," drawled Dick. "Wait until I get another ice."

"You wait, I say!" spluttered Dutton.

"It's too hot," replied Dick, for he could not help but notice the insulting tones. "I'll see you later. I'm sorry about the accident.'

"That was no accident," declared Dutton. "You did that on purpose, and I—I want"

But Dick passed on. He saw Miss Hanford looking at him from among the fringe of spectators, and, as he walked back to the refreshment room, he noticed that Dutton had one of the messhall attendants wiping off as much as possible of the stain from the white satin coat.


text: Dick Hamilton's Cadet Days/Chapter 21

title: Dick Hamilton's Cadet Days/Chapter 21


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Dick secured another ice, and took it to Miss Hanford, he found her sitting in a quiet corner. She was rather pale, and did not seem to care much for the ice which he had had such trouble in securing.

"I'm not quite so warm now," she said, in explanation. "It was very kind of you to get this for me. Do you—do you think Captain Dutton will be very angry at you?" She seemed anxious.

"I don't see why he should be," replied Dick. "It was an accident. I could not help tripping."

"After you went back the second time, he talked loudly about you having done it on purpose, and he said he was going to demand satisfaction," went on the girl. "Will he?"

"Well, he can demand it, I suppose," said Dick slowly, "but I don't know what I can do, except to say I'm sorry, and offer to pay for his coat."

"Do you—do you think he will do anything—anything desperate?" asked Miss Hanford, and she looked at Dick sharply.


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182 "Of course not," he replied. "But if we are going to dance, would you mind if we began now? I think this is my two-step."

She arose, and they went whirling about the room. But she was strangely quiet. Dick's enjoyment of the dance was not a bit lessened by seeing Dutton once more scowling at him from behind a draped pillar. The cadet captain had doffed his gray coat, and wore one belonging to his uniform. It formed a strange contrast to his otherwise Colonial costume. When the dance was over Dick saw him beckoning, and, excusing himself from his fair partner, he walked to where Dutton stood.

"You wished to speak to me?" asked Dick.

"Yes. Come outside."

"What for?"

"I wish to speak to you."

"Won't it do in here?"

"No!" snapped Dutton.

Dick hesitated a moment, and, not wishing to quarrel with the captain in the ballroom, he followed him out on a veranda.

"What do you mean by insulting me, and making me ridiculous?" demanded Dutton fiercely.

"Insulting you?" repeated Dick.

"That's what I said. You refused to come back when I called you. I'm your superior officer."

"Not on an occasion like this!" exclaimed Dick, and he drew himself up, and looked Dutton


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Rh has to be said on it has been said at disproportionate length; the phenomena connected with it have been magnified into greater relative importance than they at all deserve. We must never forget that a quarter of a century has passed since 1844,—a period singularly remarkable for its material progress, and almost marvellous in its banking development. Even, therefore, if the facts so much referred to in 1844 had the importance then ascribed to them,—and I believe that in some respects they were even then overstated,—there would be nothing surprising in finding that in a new world new phenomena had arisen which now are larger and stronger. In my opinion this is the truth: since 1844, Lombard Street is so changed that we cannot judge of it without describing and discussing a most vigorous adult world which then was small and weak. On this account I wish to say as little as is fairly possible of the Act of 1844, and, as far as I can, to isolate and dwell exclusively on the "Post-Peel" agencies, so that those who have had enough of that well-worn theme (and they are very many) may not be wearied, and that the new and neglected parts of the subject may be seen as they really are.

The briefest and truest way of describing Lombard Street is to say that it is by far the greatest combination of economical power and economical delicacy that the world has ever seen.

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4 Of the greatness of the power there will be no doubt. Money is economical power. Every one is aware that England is the greatest moneyed country in the world; every one admits that it has much more immediately disposable and ready cash than any other country. But very few persons are aware how much greater the ready balance—the floating loan-fund which can be lent to any one or for any purpose—is in England than it is anywhere else in the world. A very few figures will show how large the London loan-fund is, and how much greater it is than any other. The known deposits—the deposits of banks which publish their accounts—are, in

And the unknown deposits—the deposits in banks which do not publish their accounts—are in London much greater than those in any other of these cities. The bankers' deposits of London are many times greater than those of any other city—those of Great Britain many times greater than those of any other country.

Of course the deposits of bankers are not a strictly accurate measure of the resources of a Money Market. On the contrary, much more cash

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 straight in the eyes. "We are all equal here to-night, Captain Dutton. I take no orders from you!"

"We'll see about that. Why did you deliberately spill that ice over me? You wanted to make me the laughing stock of everyone in the room!"

"I did not. You have no right to say that. It was an accident, pure and simple, and I have already apologized to you for it."

"That is not enough. No one can insult me with impunity. I demand satisfaction!"

"I don't see what satisfaction I can give you—unless I buy you a new coat. I [sic] that is what you what you want I will be happy to send you a check for whatever amount"

"Hold on, Hamilton!" cried Dutton hoarsely. "This is going too far! You're getting mighty fresh. I suppose because you are a millionaire you think your money will do anything. But I tell you it won't. You can't buy a gentleman with money, nor make one either. You come here with a lot of millions behind you, and you think all you need to do is to insult a gentleman, and then offer to pay for it. I tell you I'll not stand it. You did that on purpose and"

"I have already told you that I did not."

"And I say you did."

There was no mistaking Dutton's meaning. Dick took a step forward. His face was slightly pale.


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 "That will do!" he said sternly. "Are you aware that you have practically accused me of telling an untruth?"

"That's what I meant to do," answered Button fiercely. "You're a cad—a sneak—you threw that ice at me on purpose!"

"If you say that again," exclaimed Dick, "I'll"

"Well, what will you do?" sneered Button.

"I think I shall have to buy you two coats," spoke Dick calmly, for he saw that Dutton was losing control of his temper, and the young millionaire wanted to end the affair.

"Don't you give me any of your fresh talk!" cried the captain.

"I shall say what I please on an occasion like this," responded Dick. "I have that privilege."

"You have, eh? Then look out for yourself!"

Dutton fairly leaped forward, and endeavored to strike Dick, but the young millionaire was too quick for him, and stepped to one side, at the same time involuntarily shooting out his fist, which caught the bully in the side. Dutton stopped short.

"I suppose you know what striking a gentleman means," he said slowly.

"I do when I hit one. I haven't struck any gentleman to-night," said Dick coolly.

"You're adding insult to it. You've got to give me satisfaction for this!"


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Rh "I suppose so. You recall how it turned out last time."

"This time will be different. You won't get off so easily."

"Have your own way about it. I guess Paul Drew will be my second again, but I should think you'd had enough of fighting."

"Not with you! I'll never be satisfied until I've beaten you!"

"Then you'll wait a long time."

The two had talked in rather low but tense tones, and they were not aware that they were directly beneath a window that had been opened to let in the fresh air. Nor did they see the frightened face of a girl at the casement.

"Will after the ball suit you?" asked Dutton, as he turned aside.

"Any time."

Dick remained in the cool winter air a little longer, filling his lungs with the oxygen, and when he returned to the ballroom he saw no sign of Dutton. Nor did he see Miss Hanford, though he looked for her, as he had another dance coming.

Supper was served soon after this, and Dick had no sooner risen from the table than Paul Drew signalled him to step one side.

"Dutton has sent a challenge to you by Stiver," he said.

"I expected it."

"Yes, but what do you think he wants?"


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186 "What?"

"To fight with swords."

"Swords?"

"Yes. Like the students do in German schools. Heads and body protected so you can't either be more than scratched. I think it's silly, but of course I said I'd tell you."

"That's right. Swords, eh? Well, with football helmets on, and a baseball chest protector, and heavy gloves, I guess it won't be dangerous. But what's the use of fighting if some one doesn't get hurt? I prefer my fists."

"Dutton's idea seems to be for you both to be rigged out as we are when we practice with broadswords on horses," said Paul, referring to one of the drills taught at the school.

"Well, I don't like to object," said Dick, "but it strikes me that as the challenged party, I have the choice of weapons."

"So you have. I forgot that. Then you don't want swords?"

"I'll tell you later. You can inform Dutton I'll fight him when and where he pleases, and that, as it's my right, I'll name the weapons when we meet."

"All right. Give him a good lesson, Dick."

Paul went off to carry the message, and Dick, seeing Miss Hanford, went up to her for the waltz. She gave him a place made vacant by the inability of her partner to claim her, as he was on the supper committee. Dick thought the girl


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Rh seemed nervous and alarmed, but he did not speak of it.

The dance lasted until two o'clock in the morning, and then the guests began leaving. Dick was somewhat surprised to see Miss Hanford in apparently earnest conversation with grizzled Major Webster, but he concluded that she was only telling him what a good time she had had.

"Won't you call and see me sometime?" she asked Dick, as she bade him good-night.

"I will be pleased to," he said.

"And don't—don't have any quarrel with Captain Dutton," she said, with a little smile.

"Er—oh, no, I—I—er—I won't," was all Dick could stammer. He resolved that he would have no more quarrels, but it was too late to stop this one.

As the last of the guests were leaving, Paul sought out his roommate.

"The clump of trees, down by the lagoon," he whispered. "In an hour. What about weapons? Dutton wants to know."

"He'll have to wait. I'll bring them with me. It's my privilege."

A little later Dick went to his room, where he was busy for some time. When he emerged he was accompanied by Paul. He wore his long cape overcoat, and something bulged beneath it.

"I guess he'll be surprised," commented Paul.

The clump of trees, which Dutton had selected as the place for the duel, was located on a little


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188 point of land that jutted out into the lake, and near a small lagoon. It was some distance from the academy buildings, and out of sight. The trees had kept most of the snow from the ground, and it was a sheltered place. As there was a full moon there was no need of other light.

As Dick and Paul approached the place they saw several dark figures moving about.

"They're on time," whispered Paul.

"Yes. I hope the Colonel doesn't hear of it."

As they drew nearer, Stiver stepped forward and said:

"Is your man ready. Drew?"

"All ready."

"Then we demand to know the weapons. My principal will object to pistols, as they make too much noise."

"My principal has the choice of weapons, as you know, and unless he is allowed to exercise it we must decline to fight."

Paul spoke as though it was very serious.

"I know, but, hang it all, man, we can't fight with pistols. We'd have the whole crowd down on us," objected Stiver, in some alarm.

"I'll not fight with pistols," put in Dutton, which was a wrong thing for a brave duelist to do.

"Don't be worried," replied Dick cooly. "I have not selected pistols. But we are delaying too long. I am ready."

"So are we," said Stiver, but it was observed that his voice was not very steady. He was


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Rh to wish he had had nothing to do with this. It seemed to be getting serious, and he, as well as Dutton, wondered what Dick could be carrying under his overcoat.

"Take your places," said Paul.

"But the weapons," insisted Stiver.

"My principal will hand one to your principal as soon as he takes his place," went on Paul. "We seconds must retire to a safe distance."

"They—they aren't rifles, are they?" asked Stiver, and this time his voice was very shaky.

"They are not rifles," said Dick, somewhat solemnly. "Come, I can't stay here all night. I want to write an account of this to Miss Hanford."

"Don't you dare!" cried Dutton.

"Hush! Take your place," said his second.

Dutton approached Dick, and held out his hand to receive his weapon. Dick unfolded his coat and extended—not a sword or gun, but a big bladder, fully blown up, and tied to a short stick. He kept a similar one for himself.

"These are my weapons," he said.

"I won't fight with those! It's an insult! I demand satisfaction!" fairly shouted Dutton.

"Hush!" cried Stiver. "Someone is coming!"

But it was too late. Several figures could be seen running over the snow toward the duelists.


text: Dick Hamilton's Cadet Days/Chapter 22

title: Dick Hamilton's Cadet Days/Chapter 22


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"! Here comes Major Webster!" cried Stiver. There was no mistaking the soldierly figure who was approaching.

"And Colonel Masterly is with him!" added Paul.

"Some one has squealed!" added Dutton, but he seemed rather glad than otherwise that the duel had been interrupted.

"Cut for it!" said Dick. "Across the ice, and into the grove! We can get in the back way, and they won't know who it was out here."

"Say, if they were tipped off that something like this was going to take place, they know who was in it," said Paul, as he and Dick headed across the ice which covered the inlet at one side of the wooded point.

Dick thought of the conversation he had seen taking place between Miss Hanford and the major, and a light came to him.

"She must have overhead the talk about swords, and she got frightened," he said to himself. "That's how the major knew."


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Rh On came the dark figures over the snow, but the cadets had a good start. Across the ice they went, and were soon lost in the depths of a little grove of trees. From there they managed to gain the barracks.

"Queer they didn't call after us," said Dick, as he and Paul were safe in their room.

"That is sort of funny. Say, where's the other bladder?"

"Dutton must have it."

But Dutton didn't have it. He had dropped it as he ran, and Major Webster picked it up a little later on the dueling ground. The major held it out to Colonel Masterly.

"What's this?" asked the colonel.

"One of their weapons, I fancy."

"Then it was all a joke. What Miss Hanford told you about the duel, she must have dreamed."

"No, she says she overheard Dutton challenge Hamilton, and later on, some talk between Hamilton and Drew. She was very much frightened, and came and told me. Of course I know the cadets will fight once in a while. They wouldn't be any good if they didn't, and, though you and I know that it's against the rules, it's no more than you and I used to do. But when she spoke of swords I thought it time to take a hand."

"But they didn't have swords."

"Evidently not. Hamilton reserved to himself the choice of weapons, as the challenged party, she said, and it seems that he selected bladders."


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192 "But why?"

"I fancy he wanted to teach Dutton a lesson. There is bad blood between them, I have heard in roundabout ways, and once Hamilton administered a good drubbing to Dutton."

"Hum! Well, I don't see that there is anything for us to do."

"No, only go to bed. I'm sleepy. The time was when I could stay up at a ball all night, and attend a duel at sunrise, but those days are past. I think we'd better say nothing about this."

"Just as you like, major. You are in charge of the cadets. But perhaps we had better let Miss Hanford know that there was no bloody conflict."

"I will. Poor little girl! She was quite worried."

So that was how the duel between Dick and Dutton turned out. It did not add to the good feeling between the two cadets. Dick would have been glad to be on friendly terms, but Dutton considered that he had been made the butt of a joke, and he hated Dick more than ever. He threatened to get even until Dick sent word to him that if he liked he would meet him with bare fists as weapons, and have the matter out. Dutton knew better than to agree to this.

Of course Larry Dexter heard about the duel, but at Dick's request the young reporter sent no account of it to his paper, which described the fancy dress ball at some length. Larry remained


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Rh Dick's guest three days, and greatly enjoyed his visit to the academy.

In order to give the cadets a taste of as many varieties of military life as possible, and to show them that they could not always expect summer weather and sunny skies, Major Webster decided to have a winter practice march.

This was announced for a date late in January, and some novel features were to be incorporated. The cadets were to be divided into several small squads, and were to set off at different times from the academy, to reach a certain point ten miles distant, report there for dinner, and march back. Various routes were selected, with officers stationed at checking points, and the squad which made the best time was to receive a trophy.

As the ground was quite thickly covered with snow, and as certain landmarks, plainly visible in summer, were now obliterated, the march would prove no easy one. It was to be made on horses, and only the best riders were allowed to participate.

"That's the kind of a stunt I like," said Dick, the morning of the proposed winter march. "We'll have some fun to-day, Paul, old boy."

"Yes, if we don't get caught in a blizzard. It looks like snow."

"So much the better. That will make it all the harder. I wish I was going to lead a squad."

"I don't. Who is in charge of ours?"


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194 "Allen Rutledge. He's a good rider. Well, it's almost time to start. Whew! But it's cold!"

Dick's squad, in charge of Captain Rutledge of the football team, was the third to start off. They set their horses into a gentle canter, as they knew they would need all the strength of the animals ere the day was over.

At first it was pleasant enough, moving along over the snow, but, as it grew colder, it was not quite so much fun. Still the lads did not complain, as they knew the training was good for them.

When they had gone about five miles some flakes of snow sifted lazily down from the gray, leaden clouds overhead.

"I guess we're going to be in for it before we get back," observed Captain Rutledge. "Close up the ranks, behind there. Don't straggle."

They kept to their route, were checked at the proper point by an officer, and then started for the turning station. This was a hotel in a small town ten miles from the academy, and glad enough the cadets were to reach it, and find a hot dinner waiting for them.

An hour was allowed for luncheon, and the feeding of the horses, and then the start back was made. This was the most difficult part of the march, as the way led through an uninhabited part of the country, at the edge of the mountain range, and the roads were seldom traveled, and not of the best.


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Rh About three miles from where they had dinner was another checking station. Dick's squad reached this in the midst of quite a snowstorm.

"I guess it will only be a squall," observed Rutledge, as he went in the house, where the checking officer was stationed, to report.

"A squall?" observed Dick. "If this doesn't keep up until we get back, and for some time after, I'm a Dutchman."

Rutledge came out of the house, followed by the checking officer, Captain Nelton. Both looked worried.

"We'll keep watch for them," said Rutledge as he prepared to vault into the saddle.

"Yes, I wish you would," said Captain Nelton. "They may have straggled behind, and lost the road. Have them join your squad if you see them."

"What's up?" asked Dick, for an air of familiar fellowship was permitted on the practice marches.

"Dutton and Stiver didn't report in with their squad, which is just ahead of ours," replied Rutledge. "We're to look out for them."

"Most likely they sneaked off to have a good time somewhere," said Dick in a low voice to Paul.

The pace was slower now, for the snow was deeper, and the horses were beginning to feel the strain of the long march. The flakes were falling


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196 thicker and faster, and from the rear the leader of the squad could not be seen.

"Come, boys, close ranks!" called Rutledge several times. "If you stray off now you'll be in danger. Keep together."

They tried to, but some horses went better than others, and it was impossible for the stragglers to keep up with the leaders at all times. Rutledge saw this and called to Dick:

"Here, Hamilton, you and Drew are good riders. You take the rear, and keep it as close to me as you can. This storm is getting fierce."

It was almost a blizzard now, with the wind sobbing and moaning in the trees, and the white flakes cutting into one's face with stinging force.

"Take the next turn to the right," called Rutledge to Dick and Paul, as they wheeled their horses and started for the rear.

They heard faintly through the noise of the storm, and answered back. They succeeded for a time in keeping the end riders up toward the front, urging their somewhat jaded horses to a trot.

Then, all at once, they found themselves out of sight of the tails of the end animals.

"Hit is [sic] up a little," suggested Dick to Paul. "They're leaving us."

They spurred their horses ahead, but they never noticed as they bent their heads to avoid the blast that they kept straight on, instead of taking the turn to the right, where die road divided. So fast was the snow falling, drifting as it did so,


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Rh that the tracks of the horses just ahead of them were almost blotted out.

"They must be galloping," said Dick. "Come on, Paul."

They urged their wearied horses to a gallop, expecting soon to come within sight of the rear of the squad. But, as they went on and on, the road became more impassable. The snow was at least two feet deep now, and more was falling every minute.

"I can't see anything of them," said Paul, peering ahead into the white mist.

"Me either. Let's give a yell."

They called, but the echo was their only reply.

"Can you see any tracks?" asked Dick, leaning over in the saddle, and scanning the ground.

"No. Can you?"

"Not a one."

The lads straightened up, and looked at each other. Their steeds whinnied helplessly, complaining thus of the cold.

"Dick," said Paul, "I believe we've taken the wrong turn."

"I didn't see any turn to take. We've come a straight road."

"I don't believe so. Rutledge said something about turning to the right."

"I know he did, but I didn't see any turn."

"Neither did I, but we're certainly on the wrong road now. This hasn't been traveled this winter."


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198 "Looks that way. Say, we've come up the side of the mountain. I wondered what made the horses so blown."

It needed but a glance to show that this was so. Unconsciously they had taken a path leading up the mountain, and they were now on what was evidently a wood-road, in the midst of a forest.

As they stood there, vainly starting [sic] about, there came a fiercer burst of the storm, and on the wings of a stinging, cold wind there came such a cloud of snow flakes that they could not see ten feet ahead of them.

"We're caught in a blizzard!" shouted Dick. "We must keep close together, Paul."


text: Dick Hamilton's Cadet Days/Chapter 23

title: Dick Hamilton's Cadet Days/Chapter 23


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the blinding snow the two cadets tried to peer, in order to see which way they should take to get back to the academy. Neither of them was very familiar with the country, though they had been over part of it in drills and practice marches in the fall. But things wore a different aspect now.

"Which way had we better go?" asked Paul, after a pause. He had to shout to be heard above the noise of the gale.

"I guess the best plan is to keep down the mountain," replied Dick. "We'll strike a road sooner or later leading to Kentfield."

The horses did not like to face the blast, but the young cadets forced them about, and the unwilling steeds started down the slope.

Protected though they were by their heavy winter clothing and overcoats, the two lads felt the cold bitterly. But they were too plucky to give up. The horses could not be urged to more than a walk, and, indeed, faster pace was not safe, as they did not know what the snow might conceal.


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200 As they went down the mountain side they kept a watch for the sight of any objects that would indicate a road, or tell them their whereabouts. But all they could see was an expanse of snow, a whirling, white cloud of flakes, with here and there the black trunks of trees standing up like grim sentinels.

"We might as well be a thousand miles from nowhere," called Dick.

"That's right," answered his companion. "I wonder if we're going straight?"

"Isn't much choice. We'll be on level ground in a little while, anyhow. Then the going will be better."

They emerged from the thickly wooded side of the big hill, and came upon a plain, which did not look familiar. It was open country, however, and this was better than being in the woods, though the cold wind had more of a sweep over it.

"Now, which way?" asked Paul. "I've lost all sense of direction."

"And I'm not much better. Suppose we let the horses go as they please? Maybe they'll have sense enough to head toward their stables."

"Good idea, we'll do it."

They let the reins hang loose on the necks of the animals. The steeds hesitated for a moment, sniffed the air, and then started off to the left.

"I hope that's right, but it doesn't seem so,"


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Rh said Dick ruefully. "However, anything's better than standing still in this storm."

There was no let-up to the blizzard, which fairly enveloped the lads in its icy grasp.

They had traveled for perhaps a mile when Dick, who was a little in the lead, suddenly cried out:

"Hi, Paul! Here's a house, anyhow!"

"A house?"

"Yes. Straight ahead."

Paul looked through the whirling clouds of snow, and saw something dark looming up about thirty yards away.

"Maybe it's a barn," he said.

"Even that's all right; but where there's a barn there's most likely to be a house. I guess we're all right now."

Their horses stumbled on, over the uneven ground, and soon another big object loomed up through the snow.

"There's the house!" cried Dick. "Come on."

They managed to urge their horses to a trot, and, a few moments later, were knocking at the door of a large, white farmhouse. A pretty girl who opened it exclaimed:

"Come right in. I expect you're most frozen, aren't you?"

"Pretty nearly," replied Dick, as he entered with Paul.

They were soon near a warm fire, partaking of hot tea, though they declined the offer of some


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202 hard cider, an invitation slyly given by the farmer, who introduced himself as Enos Weatherby. His place was about eight miles from Kentfield, and, in the course of his talk, Dick and Paul learned that Captain Dutton and Lieutenant Stiver had been at the house a little while before, and had not refused the cider.

This was news to Dick, but he at once saw how matters stood. Dutton and his companion, he learned, knew the two daughters of the farmer, and had called on them during the practice march. It was on this account that they had not reported at the checking point. Probably they thought they could make a circuit, visit their friends, and join their squad in time to report at the academy, trusting to luck to explain their temporary absence.

They had been gone about an hour, Mr. Weatherby said, and he showed Dick and Paul the road they had taken, a short cut to the school.

"Ride down this road," explained the farmer, "cut across my big meadow, and you will come to the main highway. Keep along that until you come to the first cross road, turn to the left and you'll get to the road that leads around the lake. Then it's only a mile to the school. But you're welcome to stay all night. The storm is getting worse."

"Thank you, very much," replied Dick, "but we couldn't stay. Colonel Masterly would be worried about us. We'll take the short cut home,


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Rh I guess they'll call the march a dead heat as far as picking a winner is concerned."

The girls added their entreaties to those of their father and Mrs. Weatherby, who had been busy at household duties, entered the dining room, to urge the cadets to remain, as she had plenty of room. But Dick and Paul would not.

There was obvious disappointment in the good-byes of the two girls, but Dick and Paul cared little for that, though the two Miss Weatherbys were rather pretty, even if they were a bit silly.

The two wayfarers thanked their hosts, and, feeling much refreshed and warmed, while the horses, too, had improved by the halt, they set off again.

The snow was not coming down so fast, but it was much colder, and they hastened on, anxious to get to the academy.

"Queer about Dutton, wasn't it?" asked Dick.

"It sure was," agreed Paul. "He'll get into trouble if he doesn't look out.'

"Somehow he always seems to escape, but I s'pose he'll do it once too often. This must be where we turn."

"I guess so. Go ahead."

They turned into the big meadow, crossed it, and came out into a road that showed some signs of travel. It was deserted now, however, as the winter night was settling down.

"A few more miles, and then for a good, hot supper," commented Dick.


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204 "Don't talk about it," said Paul. "It makes me hungry."

Suddenly his horse shied, and the cadet, looking to see what caused it, beheld a dark object, half buried in the snow, at the side of the road.

"What's that?" called Dick, who had dropped a little to the rear.

"I don't know. Better take a look."

Dick forced his rather unwilling steed up to the object. The next moment he uttered a cry.

"It's a man!" he exclaimed.

He leaped off his horse, and bent closely to the black, huddled mass. Then he reached over and took hold of it.

"Here, Paul!" cried Dick. "Help me!"

"What is it?"

"It's Dutton, and he's unconscious and half frozen. Must have fallen from his horse and struck on his head! We must get him to shelter in a hurry."

Paul was quickly at his companion's side. He helped Dick lift the unconscious youth from the pile of snow. Dutton seemed to be trying to say something, but though his lips moved no sound came from them.

"What's the matter? Are you hurt?" asked Dick. "How did it happen?"

Dutton murmured something, but the words "horse" and "Stiver" were all they could distinguish.


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Rh "Maybe he's only fainted," suggested Paul. "Rub some snow on his face."

Dick tried this, but it was evident that Dutton was semi-conscious from the effects of some injury.

"What shall we do?" asked Paul, who was not used to acting in emergencies.

"We've got to get him to the academy as soon as possible."

"Maybe we had better take him back to the Weatherbys. That's nearer."

"Yes, but they wouldn't know how to take care of him. He needs a doctor. No, what we've got to is to get him on my horse. He's stronger than yours, and can carry double. Then you ride on ahead and tell them to send a carriage."

Paul realized that this was the best thing to do, and the two, after some difficulty, hoisted Dutton to the back of Dick's steed. Then Dick mounted behind him, and, supporting in his arms the unconscious cadet, he set off through the snow. Paul galloped on ahead, urging his horse to a sharp gait, and made good time in reaching the academy.

There he found considerable confusion, and no little alarm, not only over the absence of Dutton, but over that of Dick and himself.

Paul quickly explained how he and his chum had become lost, and told how they had found Dutton. A carriage was at once sent out, and soon the injured lad was in the hospital, where an


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206 examination showed that he was not badly hurt, having merely received a severe blow on the head.

"We feared something had happened when Dutton's horse came in without him," said Colonel Masterly. "Lieutenant Stiver said that he and Dutton became separated, after losing their way, and that he could not find him. So he came here to get help, and arrived just as Dutton's horse galloped in."

Dick told the colonel how he had found the young captain, but did not think it necessary to mention about the farmhouse and the two girls.

"I should have stopped the march when I saw that the weather was likely to be bad," the colonel said. "However, I am glad it is no worse."

Because of the incidents of the march it was called off, as far as a contest was concerned, and so no inquiry was made as to why Dutton and Stiver had failed to report at the checking point.

"I tell you what I think happened," said Paul, when he and Dick were discussing it in their room that night.

"Well, what?"

"I think Dutton and Stiver had more hard cider than was good for them. They must have quarreled, and Stiver left Dutton, who later fell from his horse. There was no excuse for them losing each other after they left Weatherby's house, and Dutton is too good a horseman to fall off, unless he couldn't take care of himself."


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Rh "Maybe you're right. I'm glad we found him, though."

"So am I, though I don't believe he'll treat you any better for saving his life."

"Oh, I don't know as I did that. Some one would have found him before he froze to death," said Dick.

Paul's idea of what had taken place between Dutton and Stiver seemed borne out by the coldness that sprang up between the two former cronies, as soon as Dutton could leave the hospital. He hardly spoke to the lieutenant of his company.

Nor was he specially cordial to our hero. In a stiff sort of fashion he thanked him for what he had done, but there was no semblance of real friendship, and Dutton's crowd did not take up with Dick, as they might, reasonably, have been expected to.

With the approach of spring the baseball fever began to stir in the veins of the cadets, and several nines were formed. Dick managed to get on a freshman team, much to his delight, for he was an excellent pitcher. Nor did the members of the nine regret their choice, for Dick pulled them out of several close games by his excellent twirling, which offset the errors made by his companions.


text: Dick Hamilton's Cadet Days/Chapter 24

title: Dick Hamilton's Cadet Days/Chapter 24


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"!" yelled Paul Drew one afternoon, as he fairly jumped into the room which he and Dick shared.

"What's the matter?" asked hi chum.

"Matter? Why, lots. You've passed, and so have I. We're going to he corporals from now on. That's for making good records in the spring examinations. Dutton and Hale are to be majors, I heard. I'm glad for Hale's sake, but it's going to be bad for us to have Dutton given so much authority."

"Why?"

"Because he'll lord it over us worse than ever. Well, it can't he helped. And there's more good news. Get up and have a war dance, you old buzzard!"

"Hold on!" cried Dick protestingly, as Paul yanked his [sic] from the easy chair. "What's up?"

"Lots. We're going to camp!"

"Camp?"

"Yes; it's just been announced. We're to go


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Rh and spend one week under canvas; with no lessons to worry about, and lots of chance to skylark and have fun."

"I guess there'll be instructions in tactics, and recitations, won't there?" asked Dick. "It won't be all pie."

"Oh, of course we'll have to do some studying, I think."

"Of course. We'll have to tell what we'd do if, leading a small force of men, we happened to meet with an overwhelming army in a mountain pass, hemmed in on every side."

"I'd surrender," said Paul, with a laugh.

"I wouldn't; I'd fight." said Dick grimly, and he squared his jaw after the manner of Grit, his bulldog.

"Oh, well, we'll have lots of sport," went on Paul. "Of course it's for military instruction we're going, but I think we can manage to slip in a good time now and again."

"Sure," replied Dick, his eyes brightening. "When do we go?"

"Day after to-morrow. Orders are to get our kits in shape. We're to go in light marching order. The tents and grub will be carried in a wagon."

"That's good. I hate to pack my house, and all I want to eat, on my back."

The two chums fell to discussing the pleasant prospects ahead of them, some of the freshman cadets in neighboring rooms dropping in


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14 "Quite right, my boy," replied the father, whose quick eye detected the confusion and blushing countenance of his son, when mentioning their fair neighbour's name, and longing for the union of both families in a closer tie than friendship. "Bella is indeed a treasure, and happy the young man who will posses such a prize for his wife. By-the-bye Charlie, don't you see a great change in her since you left for the University? Why, she will soon eclipse your fine Edinburgh ladies."

Charlie was not sorry to see an interruption to this panegyric, which, indeed, tallied with his own feelings, for Donald Munroe, his servant, whom he sent early to the post office made his appearance with a package of letters.

Mr. Stuart's exuberance was sadly damped, however by the news which the mail brought that morning, and the disappointment it conveyed to the excellent man weighed ever afterwards heavily on his mind. This was the downfall of his friend and chief, the proprietor whom he so much revered, and whom he never dreamed would be succeeded by an Englishman. The blow which he sustained, was, indeed, severe. His son's best prospects were for ever annihilated, and a noble clan of ancient standing were now deprived of their head. What a stroke to his hopes and expectations! Many a time he belied his far-sighted neighbour, Mr. McKays, prophecy—that their laird would bring himself to beggary. It was now but too true!

Charlie shared in his parent's disappointment, not solely for his own sake, having youth and vigour on his side; but knowing his father's nourished hopes regarding Charlie's own future prospects, and also his ancient clanishclannish [sic] principles, and the total extinction of a long line of chieftains.

Among Charlie's correspondence was one epistle which partly dispelled the gloom his father's news had produced, and which brought smiles again to his countenance. The character of the writer may better be judged by inserting his communication, which ran as follows:—

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210 to get points on what to do and how to do it.

They were interrupted by a knock on Dick's door, and for a moment the buzz of voices ceased, as if the owners had been caught in some breach of the rules. Then, as the whistled strains of "In the Prison Cell I Sit," came to them, Dick exclaimed:

"It's Toots. Come on in, you old Horse Marine."

Toots entered, whistling a reveille with great precision.

"Major Webster wants to see you, Mr. Hamilton," he said, saluting.

"Me?" repeated Dick.

"Yes. In his office."

"You're in for a wigging," consoled Paul.

"Court martial for yours," added 'Gene Graham.

"No, I'm going to be promoted to take entire command of the camp," said Dick with a laugh as he went out. He had come nearer the truth than he thought in his jesting words. He saluted the major, who returned it, and bade him be seated.

"Ah, Hamilton, by the way, before I forget it, let me say that I haven't heard anything about that marksman's medal yet," said Major Webster, referring to the one that had fallen from the pocket of Toots. "When I hear anything I'll let you know. But that wasn't why I sent for you."

Dick thought it couldn't be anything serious, or


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Rh the major wouldn't have begun in this fashion, so he waited.

"I have been looking up your record, Hamilton," went on the old soldier, "and I am very much pleased with. So much so, in fact, that I am going to promote you, temporarily, and give you a command."

Dick's heart began to beat rapidly.

"During this encampment," went on the major, "we wish the new cadets to get a good idea of the value of military training, and what this academy stands for. I think that by this plan of mine they will gain more knowledge in a week than they otherwise would in two months. Now I am going to take all the cadets who recently arrived and form them into two companies. One you will have entire charge of, as captain. The other I will select a captain for. Yours will be known as Number One Company, to distinguish it from the regular lettered commands. I want you to give the freshmen as good an idea, as you can of what a military life here means."

"What am I to do?" asked Dick.

"Take entire charge of them. See that they are shown everything, from how to load a gun, vault upon a horse, put up a tent, build a camp fire, mount guard and so on. At the end of the week's camp we are going to have a sham battle."

"A sham battle?"

"Yes, off in the woods. The cadets will be


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212 divided into two armies, and we will play the war game just as the regulars and volunteers do. In a sense the lads in your care will be volunteers, and perhaps they will do better than the regular cadets. That part is up to you."

Dick resolved that if he could bring it about his company would gain some honors.

"Your command will be part of the fighting force in the sham battle," went on the major, "and it will depend on yourself how they behave. The rules of the sham battle will be announced later, but I want you to get ready for your shoulder straps," and he smiled at our hero.

"Well," thought Dick, as he left the major a little later, "I got to a captain's stripes before I knew it—but it won't last very long," he added, somewhat regretfully.

Dick thought ruefully that, even with this temporary promotion, he was hardly fulfilling the conditions of his mother's will. He was certainly not popular with the great body of students, and he began worrying lest he be sent to his Uncle Ezra, As he walked back to his room, he recalled a letter he had received from his father that day, stating that Mr. Hamilton would remain abroad longer than he had originally planned.

"It doesn't look as if I was going to make good," thought Dick, gloomily, as he entered his apartment.

"What was it?" asked his chums eagerly, as he came back.


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Rh Dick told them.

"A sham battle!" cried Paul. "That's the stuff! Hold me down, somebody, or I'll stand on my head, and if I do I'll split my new uniform. Hold me, somebody, do."

"I will," volunteered 'Gene Graham, and he obligingly tilted Paul up, so that he turned a neat summersault over his bed.

"I guess that'll hold you for a few moments," observed Stanley Booker. "Now tell us more about it, Dick."

Which the young millionaire proceeded to do.

Never was there such excitement in Kentfield academy as when it became known that, in addition to the camp there was to be a sham battle. On every side was heard talk of ambuscades, skirmishing parties, rear attacks, retrograde movements, waiting for reinforcements, deploys and bases of supplies.

Dutton sneered openly when he heard of Dick's promotion.

"I suppose he thinks he'll do wonders with those freshies," he said. "Maybe he hopes he'll win the battle by coming up with them as reinforcements."

"Well a small force has turned the tide more than once, Dutton," Allen Rutledge reminded him.

"I don't think Hamilton can do it, though," was the reply of the bully.

The start for camp was made on a bright,


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214 sunny morning, and the line of cadets, in field uniforms, with their guns over their shoulders, the sun glinting from the polished barrels, made an inspiring picture.

"Isn't this glorious?" said Dick to Paul, near whom he was marching.

"Silence in the ranks!" snapped Major Dutton, though there was no need for the command.


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title: Dick Hamilton's Cadet Days/Chapter 25


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marched the cadets, keeping step to the lively air of the fifes, and the accompanying rattle and boom of the drums. But regular formation and step were not maintained for long, only until the young soldiers were on the main road, when they were allowed to break step, and proceed as they pleased, the companies, however, keeping together.

It was an all day's tramp to camp, and they stopped midway on the road for lunch, the baggage wagons having been halted while the regular cooks of the academy, who had been taken along, prepared the meal.

"Wait until we get the tents up." said Dick, "then we'll have some fun. Nothing like life under canvas in the summer."

"Right, Captain Dick." replied Paul, trying to talk with part of a chicken sandwich in his mouth. Dick had not yet assumed his new command, but would as soon as camp was pitched.

They got to the place about five o'clock, and found that the tents had been unloaded from the


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216 wagons, and that the cooks had their white shelter already set up, and were preparing supper.

"Now, boys," said Major Webster, "I want to see how soldierly you can do things. You have had considerable practice in putting up tents, at least you older cadets have; now let's see how you have profited by your instruction."

In a short time the scene was one of great activity. Cadets were straightening out folds of canvas, laying out ropes, driving in tent pegs and, in less than half an hour, where there had been a green field, it was now dotted with spotless white peaked-roof houses of canvas.

"Very well done," complimented Colonel Masterly, who came out of the headquarters tent to look at the sight. "Very fine, indeed, major."

"Yes, I think they did well."

The next work was to dig a trench about each tent so that rain water could not settle about it, and this was quickly accomplished. This done the camp had a fine appearance, the tents being arranged in rows or company "streets."

By this time supper was announced, and the way the cadets put away the good things which the cooks had provided made those servants open their eyes. They were used to hungry boys eating, but they almost forgot to allow for the extra appetites created by work in the open air. It was some time since a general camp had been held at the academy.

After guard mount, sentinels were posted and


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Rh orders given that no cadet would be allowed to leave camp. In spite of this some of Dutton's crowd, including himself, ran the guard that night and were nearly caught. However, this was to be expected, and it was considered no great crime.

The next day Dick was given charge of forty freshmen, and he took great delight in starting their instruction. There were drills to attend, lessons in tactics to learn, the best method to observe on a march, and illustrations given in artillery firing, for several field pieces had been brought along to use in the shamesame [sic] battle.

Cavalry exercises occupied a part of every day, and though the cadets had plenty of leisure they found that their time was pretty fully occupied, for Colonel Masterly and his staff wanted practical benefit to be derived from the camp life. Target practice in the open proved to many a cadet who had done well on the ranges that he had plenty yet to learn.

"I wish they'd hurry up and have that sham battle," remarked Paul to Dick one night. "Heard anything about it?"

"It takes place to-morrow," replied our hero. "Blank ammunition will be served out the first thing in the morning, and final instructions given. My company is to form part of the attacking party."

"That's good. I wonder where my bunch will be stationed? I wish I was an officer."


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218 "It will come in time. You're to be on the defense, I believe. So is the company of freshmen that Foraker has charge of."

"Well, it won't make much difference. I'll not fire on you, if I can help it."

"That's good."

The plan for the sham battle was announced the next morning, after each cadet had been supplied with many rounds of blank cartridges. The young soldiers were divided into two equal commands. Somewhat to Dick's disgust Major Dutton was given charge of the attacking party, of which the millionaire's son and his young lads formed a part. Harry Hale, the football coach, who had also been elected a major, was to be on the defensive. The latter army was to occupy a wooded hill, back of the camp. At the foot of it ran a small stream, and to get at the defenders of the mound the attacking party would have to build a temporary bridge, which work was included in the instruction imparted at the academy.

To cover this operation, the artillery of the attacking party would be brought up, but, at the same time, the field pieces of the defenders might pour a devastating fire on the bridge builders from above.

The holders of the hill were to be stationed at the rear limits of it, while the attackers were to start their march about two miles from the foot of the slope. It was figured out that if the defenders could bring up their artillery, and other


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Rh forces, and attack the enemy before a bridge could be built across the stream, the holders of the hill would win the battle. On the other hand, if the attackers could succeed in getting a body of cadets across the stream before a heavy artillery or rifle fire could be poured into them, they would win. The promptness of firing, the number of shots and general quickness were to count.

At the appointed time, Major Hale and his force took possession of the hill, and Major Dutton led his army two miles back, on the plain in front of it.

Dutton issued his orders.

"We'll try to surprise them," he said to his young officers. "We'll swing around in a half circle, and instead of building the bridge at the easiest place to cross the stream we'll try it farther down. They won't suspect that we'll come there, and we'll gain some time.

"But they'll have their pickets out," observed Russell Glen. "They'll see us."

"I'll send some of you to another point to pretend to build a bridge," decided Button. "That'll draw their fire, and they'll start their artillery toward that place. Before they find out that it's only a bluff we'll have the real bridge half done."

As the cadets had a record of building a thirty-foot bridge of the "A" style inside of four minutes, it seemed that Button's plan might be a good one.

"How are you going to carry the planks and


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Rh

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220 spars for the bridge?" asked Glen. "On the field piece carriages?"

"No, we'll carry them ourselves. We can close up ranks so they won't see the boards."

This looked like a good plan, and the cadets made ready to carry it out.

"Hamilton," said Button sharply to our hero, "you'll take the rear guard, and stay there until you get orders to come up."

This was rather hard on Dick. It practically put him and his freshmen out of the battle, unless Dutton should order them to the front, and he was not very likely to do this. Still Dick could not object, and he made the best of it.

"Won't we see any of the fighting?" asked one of his command.

"Maybe so," replied the young millionaire. "They may need us for reinforcements."

Dick could not help but give Dutton credit for making his plans well. The young major led his men to the designated point, taking advantage of such inequalities of the ground as there were to conceal his movements. The ropes, beams and planks for the bridge were distributed among the cadets, several of them being required to carry the heavier pieces. The strongest lads were used for this work, and their rifles were taken in charge by their less-burdened comrades.

Then, when all was in readiness, Dutton gave the command to advance. He led the way, at the head of a company of infantry, while back of


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Rh that came his cavalry force, and to the rear of that was massed his artillery, while Dick led the rear guard of freshmen.

Straight at the hill advanced the attacking army, while from convenient points Colonel Masterly and his staff of officers watched to decide who won.

"Skirmishers, advance!" ordered Dutton, and several cadets detached themselves from the cavalry and rode forward. As they approached there were puffs of white smoke from the slope of the hill, and the sharp crack of rifles announced that the pickets of Major Hale's force were on the alert. The skirmishers returned the fire, and then galloped back to report.

"They're waiting for us," Dutton was informed.

"So I see," he replied. "Now, then, we'll halt here a moment. You fellows that are to pretend to build the bridge, get ready to rush when I give the word. I'll send one field piece as if to cover your movements. Are you all ready there, Stiver?" for Lieutenant Stiver, with whom Dutton had again gotten on friendly terms, was to lead the fake movement.

"All ready," was the answer.

"Then go!"

Out from the attacking force rushed a squad of cadets, bearing light planks. Of course, from the hill, it looked as if they were the advance guard of bridge builders. Particularly when


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80 heard in the distance, like the hoarse roar of advancing ocean waves, accompanied by long-continued shooting, whether of victory or defiance I could not tell. A thousand guns opened their fire, and we could see the balls plunging into the embattled ranks on either side, and hundreds of men falling in the agonies of death. Again and again were repeated those mighty charges of horse, those furious shouts, and that hurricane of shot and shell. At length there was a lull for a few minutes, and then the ground trembled beneath the regular tramp of great masses of infantry. They advanced against each other with heads bent forward, eyes flashing fire, teeth firmly set. The Romans locked their shields, and brandished their flaming swords. The Goths yelled savagely, and hurled their javelins at the advancing foe. The Macedonians formed themselves into an impenetrable phalanx, and received their Persian enemies on the points of their pikes. Hannibal led on his Carthaginian bands, and the battle of Cannae was fought over again. Pompey fled from the field of Pharsalia, hotly pursued by Cesar's victorious horse. Here in this ghastly panorama a famous modern hero again gained his greatest victories.

A sudden increase of illumination now burst upon the awful scene, on which I gazed with bated breath, expecting every moment to be my last. Those who have read Mr. Rider Haggard's startling romance 'She' will not be surprised at the wonderful pictures presented to my view in a hitherto unexplored region of the universe. He describes a mysterious fire which his hero saw deep in the bowels of the earth, stalking along like a giant with a roar like that of a great waterfall, coming from nowhere, and returning to the same place; and in which the beautiful form of 'She' herself was reduced to its original dust. But I describe some of those scenes (at the expense of originality, it is


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222 there dashed out a field piece, drawn by galloping horses.

As the cadets approached the bank of the stream, and began to arrange their planks, the lads in charge of the cannon quickly wheeled it, unlimbered and fired the first shot. There was a white puff of smoke, a burst of flame, and a great bang went rattling and echoing among the hills. The battle had opened.

As Dutton had expected, his ruse deceived Hale. The latter quickly ordered up his entire artillery to shell the intrepid bridge builders. Dutton, watching through a field glass, saw the approach of the cannon.

"Forward march!" he cried to his main command. "Double quick!"

Quickness was everything now. Off they started, the real bridge builders and nearly his entire force, including Dick and his youngsters in the rear.

They circled around a turn in the stream, and, for a time, were out of sight of the small force left to bear the attack.

"Build the bridge here!" ordered Dutton. "Lively now, boys. See if you can't break the record."

The cadets needed no urging. Two of them quickly plunged into the stream, and, partly swimming, partly wading, carried over some ropes. By means of these they pulled over spars and planks, which, when several of their


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Rh true) which the world, and not the keen eye of imagination only, has actually witnessed with its own eyes. His description is undisguised fiction, mine undeniable truth. And if my readers are displeased with such revolting tragedies, what do they say to the narratives of slaughter, and shocking cannibalism, with which the world is now being flooded?

I looked around to see the cause of the increase of light, and, lo! some twenty or more of the castles and palaces on all sides of the square were wrapped in raging fire. The weird flames shot up into the black and hideous space above, and lost themselves in the dense obscurity of clouds of inky smoke. Now and again dreadful explosions of powder magazines rent the air, and the roofs and walls of many of the castles were hurled out with violence on the heads of the combatants.

While I gazed on this alarming spectacle, I became aware of a sharp pain at the back of my neck, very like the sting a of a scorpion. Placing my hand hastily on the affected part, I felt a clammy cuttle-fish finger pressing upon it, and looking round in the greatest terror, I beheld the larrikin fiend, Astoragus, sitting in the dickey contemplating the battle as gravely and solemnly as a judge, I instantly gave utterance to a loud roar of pain and rage. The Demon was startled at the sound, and turning, saw the injured innocent, his thoughts apparently far from doing any mischief. Without hesitation he seized him round the body with his boa-constrictor tail before he had time to escape, and roughly hurled him out of the chariot right over my head. He fell kicking amongst the poor negroes, who were still harnessed to the carriage, and they, struck with a mortal panic, started away at a furious gallop. In vain the Demon thundered orders to them to stop, and swore the most frightful oaths I ever heard; they only flew the faster,


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Rh hurriedly joined them, they proceeded to lash together. The same operation was going on among the cadets on the other side of the brook.

Two long spars were laid down on the ground, at right angles to the stream. At the further extremity of these spars a cross piece was lashed, projecting on either side. Ropes were attached to the projections, and the unconnected ends of the long spars, being held down to the ground by several lads, the others quickly raised the connected ends, just as a painter hoists a long ladder. The same thing took place on the farther side of the brook, and, when both squads were ready, the two parts of the bridge that were to form the two slanting sides of a double letter "A" were allowed to incline toward each other, from either side of the water, cadets having hold of the ropes, regulating and guiding the long spars. The big sticks met in mid air, over the centre of the stream, and being well braced at the bottom, held. Then cadets climbed up on either side, and united them more firmly by lashing them.

Something like a double letter "A," but without the cross piece, now spanned the brook. Or, perhaps, it would be more correct say that it was a double inverted "V". It was necessary to put on cross spars, and lay planks on these, or the artillery and cavalry could not get over. And, as there were no spars long enough to reach all the way across the stream, two sections had to


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224 be used on either side of the bridge. They were to be tied together, and supported at the centre, or place of joining, by long ropes, attached to the apex of the letter "A."

Though up to this time the main attacking party had not been fired on, they could not hope to escape much longer. Already puffs of white smoke from the hillside indicated that they had been seen by pickets. A minute later Dutton's trick was discovered, and Hale ordered his artillery to cease firing on the fake bridge builders, and to turn their attack on the others.

But Dutton was ready for this. He had his field pieces in position, and, as soon as he saw that his soldiers had the bridge well under way, he began shelling the defenders, who were rushing down the hill to the attack. The infantry also began to pour in a withering fire.

The ropes, by which the long spars had been lowered and inclined across the stream, now served as guys to hold them steady and in place, while the floor beams were being put in position.

"Lively!" cried Dutton. "They're making it too hot for us! We must cross soon, or we'll lose! They came at us quicker than I expected!"

Meanwhile the little force that had started to build the fake bridge had (theoretically) been killed.

Now the long floor timbers were in place, being supported at the centre by long ropes,


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82 and they rushed—oh, how they rushed!—into the thickest of the raging battle.

Destruction now stared us in the face. The panic-stricken negroes continued their wild flight, dragging our carriage over the heaps of slain, and through the long lines of infuriated soldiers. It was impossible to escape a miserable death now, and I calmly resigned myself to my fate. Their almost omnipotent master, notwithstanding all his power to save his precious bones when he pleased, was dashed from his chariot across a broken gun-carriage. The cannon-balls still flew around us in a perfect storm, and the musket-bullets like a tempest of hail. The military vehicle in which I sat, and to which I resolutely clung for bare life, was at last violently wrenched asunder, and I was thrown pell-mell amongst the ruins. Even then I did not lose my senses, but I knew too well that it was necessary to prepare for instant dissolution. Oh! what had I done to deserve this cruel fate? I had always hated war: the sight of two dogs fighting had often been enough to fill me with—I shall not say fear or alarm—but a profound disapproval of what was contrary to my nature. I never fought an earnest battle in my life except once, and that was decided in one round; moral battles I have been fighting all my life.

But now, what was my wretched condition? A last farewell to the dear ones whom I loved was denied me; no watch-dog's honest bark would welcome me when I drew near home; no eye would grow brighter at my coming. The wife of my youth, now the cherished companion of my declining years, my children, my grandchildren, the chattering and laughing, the noisy, innocent, and beautiful little ones, where are they now? Oh, that they might never know how or where I was doomed to die! I should never see my shining silver lakes, or the green fields, or the grand forests, or the golden sunshine again. Never again


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Rh from the point of the "A," and the cadets were beginning to lay cross planks on them.

"Tell the cavalry to get ready to advance, to protect our crossing," ordered Dutton, to one of his captains, and the troop of lads on their restless steeds prepared to rush across the bridge at the first possible moment. It had only been a little over three minutes since the building of the structure was started, but a heavy artillery fire was being concentrated on the attackers, and, in accordance with instructions previously given, cadets began dropping out, being supposed to be killed.

Dutton's field pieces were pounding away, and there was a thick cloud of smoke, which partly concealed the movements of his cadets.

"Bridge is ready, major!" reported a smoke-begrimed lad, running up, and saluting. Then he hastened back to continue firing on Hale's soldiers.

"Advance, cavalry!" shouted Button. "Lively now! Charge!"

The horses, urged on by their shouting riders, thundered over the frail bridge. It trembled and swayed, but it supported them.

"Forward, the infantry!" cried the young major. "On the double quick! Here they come down the hill at you! Fire at will! Charge!"

Down the slope of the hill came rushing the defenders. Behind them thundered and rumbled


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226 their artillery, which was supporting their brave advance in the face of the enemy.

"Artillery, forward!" shouted Dutton, waving his sword, and hoping, by throwing his entire force suddenly upon Hale's army, to overpower it, and get in more shots than could his opponent. That meant he would win the battle.

"Shall I stay here?" cried Dick, for he had received no orders what to do with his force, and was still on the farther side of the bridge.

"Yes! Until I send for you, or you see that you are needed," called back Dutton. "I guess I can get along without you."

Louder roared the cannon; and the cracks of the rifles of the infantry, and the carbines of the cavalry, was like the explosion of pack after pack of giant firecrackers.

Then something happened. As the three field pieces rumbled across the bridge, there was an ominous cracking and splintering sound. Dutton heard it and turned back from his rush, which he had started on to be in readiness to lead the charge of his artillery. He saw the bridge swaying.

"Come on! Come on!" he cried, waving his sword. "Come on!"

But it was too late. The middle supporting ropes had slipped, and the bridge collapsed at the centre, letting horses, cannon and cadets down into the stream, which, fortunately, was not deep.

Dutton had, at one blow, lost all his artillery,


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Rh while Hale's was advancing to annihilate him and his force. The boom of the defenders' field pieces sounded nearer and nearer, while their rifle fire became hotter than ever.

Dutton saw himself defeated by the inopportune collapse of the bridge, which had been insecurely lashed together. But he would not give up.

"Forward! Forward!" he cried. "Split up and attack 'em on both sides.

His cavalry and infantry rushed forward, firing as they ran. Dick Hamilton, left with his little body of troops on the other side of the stream, saw his opportunity.

"Quick!" he cried to his lads. "We'll go back and get the guns at the fake bridge. Then we'll pull it across and we'll see if we can execute a flank movement."

"That's the stuff!" cried some of the lads, who had begun to fear they would never get a chance to fire their rifles.

Dick led his men on the double quick to where the field piece, from which only a few shots had been fired, had been left. He saw a chance to turn defeat into victory.


text: Dick Hamilton's Cadet Days/Chapter 26

title: Dick Hamilton's Cadet Days/Chapter 26


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was desperate when he saw the most efficient arm of his little force thus wiped out. He did not turn back to help the cadets in charge of the horses and guns, however, as he knew they could look after themselves.

And this they did, though they had to cut the traces to get the horses loose from the guns, and then haul the field pieces out by hand. This took some time, and when the cannon were safe on the other shore they could not be used because the harness was cut and the horses could not pull them. Besides the guns had turned over and the working parts were all wet.

But Major Dutton had not yet given up. He divided his cavalry and infantry into two divisions, giving Captain Beeby charge of one, and taking the other himself.

Dutton took advantage of a little hollow which, for a few moments hindered the advance of the defenders, to execute this move, and he hoped to be able to turn the flank of Hale.


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Rh "Make as wide a swing as you can," he advised Beeby, "and maybe you can get to him before we have to give up," for according to the rules of the sham battle about half of Dutton's force was now wiped out. It showed his spirit when he was unwilling to send for Dick's reinforcements, but he decided he would not owe victory to the lad he hated, if he could help it.

Beeby got well away with his cadets before Hale and his forces appeared around a little mound on the big hill. Then, though it was hard work to handle his artillery there, the major of the defenders made a stand and gave pitched battle to the contingent led by Dutton.

For a time the fight waged furiously, but it was unequal, as Dutton had no cannon with which to reply to the bombardment he was suffering. Nor could his cavalry advance to good advantage up the slope, while Hale's had no difficulty in coming down.

"Now, if Beeby would only get there," thought Dutton, "we might win yet!"

Alas for his hopes! Hale had suspected some such movement, and had held back a reserve force. Skirmishers saw Beeby advancing through the woods, and gave the alarm. Then Hale brought up a field piece he had not yet used, and opened fire on Beeby's contingent, which Dutton hoped would have saved him. There was no help for it. He was on the point of ordering a retreat, as the only way of saving a part of his


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230 force. Still he had a considerable number of cadets left, and they had plenty of ammunition.

Meanwhile Dick and his freshmen cadets had not been idle. Under his directions they unhitched the six horses from the cannon, and, by attaching ropes to the piece they pulled it across the stream on a raft they improvised from the boards used to construct the fake bridge. Thus the piece was saved from getting wet. The fake bridge builders, who had (theoretically) been killed, offered no objection. They could take no further part in the battle.

"Who are the best riders?" asked Dick, and several lads modestly offered themselves.

"You'll be the cavalry," said the young commander. "You are only six, but you'll do for what I want, which is mostly bluff."

He gave the artillery horses to six lads, and bade them ride across the stream, which they easily did.

"Wade and swim for the rest of us," said Dick grimly. "Hold your rifles above your heads, for, though the cartridges are water-proof, it doesn't do the mechanism of a gun any good to get it wet. Lively now. We'll be too late if we don't hurry. They're keeping up quite a heavy artillery fire."

The eager cadets needed no urging. They crossed the stream in good order, not being observed by either Dutton's force, or by the defenders of the hill. On the other side Dick looked for


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Rh the easiest and best way of climbing the hill, and going to Dutton's aid.

He saw a sort of trail leading up, and, from the direction of the firing, he knew that he could, if undiscovered, take Hale on his left flank, Beeby having tried to turn the right unsuccessfully, though Dick did not know this then.

It was hard work urging the horses up the steep hill, and harder still for the cadets to drag up the field piece, and the limber filled with ammunition, little of which had been used. But they did it, and on they went.

Dick, coming out on a little projection, could see the battle in progress between Dutton and Hale. The latter had all but won, and the attackers were fast being driven back. They were a mere handful of cadets now, many having been "killed" by the merciless fire. Being "killed" in theory meant that a certain number had to drop out every minute, and could take no further part in the battle. Of course Hale had a number of soldiers "killed" also.

"Hurry!" cried Dick to his lads. "We're only just in time. A little farther and we'll plant the field piece and open fire. Then we'll charge down."

The lads dragged the cannon a few hundred feet farther up the hill. Then, screening it behind some bushes, Dick told off a number of cadets to work the gun, they having had previous practice.