Читать книгу: «Uncle Sam's Boys as Sergeants: or, Handling Their First Real Commands», страница 10

CHAPTER XXII
THE NAVY HEARD FROM

LOOKING up at that hand Hal Overton saw a spot of blood appear suddenly in the middle of the palm.

In the same moment there came the sharp crack of a rifle.

The blow never descended on Overton's upturned face.

Instead, Hinkey uttered a startled yell, tottered to his feet, then threw himself over on his face.

For, following that first shot, came a volley of them, accompanied by the whistling of bullets through the camp.

The leader of the invaders pitched and fell, shot through the hip.

"Take to cover, boys!" roared the stricken leader. "Take my rifle, too. Defend yourselves. The soldiers are down on us!"

But Sergeant Hal, after that first moment of joyous surprise, felt a thrill of astonishment.

The bullets that were whistling through camp had not the sound of Army missiles!

Yet the young sergeant had no time to speculate on this discovery, for now he heard a voice, and a wholly strange one, shout, as the volley ceased:

"You men surrender, if you don't want to be riddled. If you start to make a move away from camp we'll drop every one of you before any man can reach cover. We mean business!"

"Hello! What's going on here? Halt! Deploy, there! Lie down! Ready – load – aim!"

That was Noll Terry's voice, and the young sergeant was right on his word like a flash.

While the first party was hidden behind cover to the northward, Sergeant Noll and his men had come up from the westward.

"We're friends," hailed that same voice from northward. "Who are you over to the westward? Who commands there?"

"Sergeant Oliver Terry, United States Army," Noll called back.

"Good for you, Sergeant! Stay in command. We'll back up any move you make," came from northward.

"Do you rascally prowlers surrender?" called Noll.

"It's about the only thing that seems left to do," sullenly admitted the leader of the invaders.

"Then hold up your hands and step away from those rifles," ordered Noll.

That command was obeyed, except by the man whose head had been battered by Hal's flying revolver.

"Have they any other weapons, Hal?" called Sergeant Noll.

"So far as I know they haven't," Sergeant Hal answered.

"You to the north!" called Noll.

"Ahoy, there!" came the good-natured answer.

"Will you move in, covering the prisoners with your rifles?"

"Gladly, Sergeant."

"Thank you."

Out of brushwood cover to the northward stepped three men. One was a middle-aged man, a mountaineer if dress and manner went for anything.

With him, supporting this guide on each side were two tall, very straight young men who appeared to be about twenty-three years of age each. These younger men were nattily though plainly attired in corduroy, with leggings and caps.

"Just stand right there, and hold the prisoners, please," directed Sergeant Terry.

Then Noll's next step was to move in with his own men, four in number.

"Get the handcuffs," directed Noll. "I think we've enough to go around."

So saying Noll stepped over to his chum, quickly freeing him.

"Get up, Sergeant Overton," cried Noll, as he cut the last cord at his chum's ankles. "And now I turn the command over to you."

Most of the prisoners took their capture in an ugly mood. Their leader, however, affected, coolly, to regard it all as the fortunes of the game.

"Here don't handcuff any of the disabled men," directed Sergeant Hal. "Green, you stand as a guard over those wounded. It's bad enough to be hurt, without having one's hands fixed so that he can't aid himself any in his misery."

"You want Hinkey ironed, don't you?" inquired Noll.

"No."

"But he's an Army deserter."

"If he gets away from where he's sitting he'll be only the remains of one," returned Sergeant Overton dryly. "But Hinkey is wounded, and he'll need his hands free in order to look after himself."

Hinkey, however, did not deign to notice this grace by so much as a look or a word.

"What are you going to do with these fellows?" asked Noll presently.

"It doesn't rest with me," Hal replied. "This is a purely military matter, and I shall wait to get Lieutenant Prescott's orders."

"Then Prescott belongs with this camp?" queried the taller, finer-looking of the pair of young strangers who had given Hal his first aid.

"Lieutenant Prescott is with this camp; yes, sir," Hal replied, laying considerable emphasis on the title.

"We're friends of his," explained the same stranger. "So, if you don't mind, we'll just wait for him."

"If you're friends of Lieutenant Prescott, then make yourselves very much at home, sir," Hal answered cordially. "Any friend of Lieutenant Prescott has B company for his friends also."

Johnson and Dietz, who had been freed right after Sergeant Hal, were now busy once more with preparations for the extra meal.

"Had we better provide for three extra plates, Sarge?" inquired Johnson, in a low voice.

"It looks very much that way," smiled Hal. "And be sure to have a great plenty of everything. Vreeland will help you, as you've lost some time."

Ten minutes later the footsteps of others were heard approaching camp. Then in came Lieutenant Prescott, with Corporal Cotter and five men. They were carrying two antelope and a fine, big bear.

But the instant that Lieutenant Prescott caught sight of the strangers he dropped everything, rushing forward with outstretched hands.

"By all that's wonderful! Dave Darrin! Dan Dalzell!"

Then the soldiers were treated to the unexpected spectacle of their lieutenant embracing the two young men in corduroy.

Soon after, however, Mr. Prescott wheeled about, one friend on either side of him.

"Attention! Men, the gentleman on my right is Midshipman David Darrin, United States Navy, and the gentleman on my left, Midshipman Daniel Dalzell, also of the Navy. They are to be treated with all the respect and courtesy due to their rank."

Readers of the "High School Boys' Series" and of the "Annapolis Series" will recall these two splendid young Naval officers, first as High School athletes, and later among the most famous of the midshipmen at the United States Naval Academy.

"But how on earth did a lucky wind come up to blow you out this way?" asked Lieutenant Prescott.

"Good fortune ruled it that we should be assigned to duty on the China station," replied Midshipman Darrin. "So we're journeying across the continent to San Francisco, on our way. But our orders allowed us time enough to stop over a fortnight on the way. Dick, did you imagine we'd go through Colorado without stopping to see you?"

"Of course not," glowed Lieutenant Prescott. "When did you arrive at Clowdry?"

"Day before yesterday. Ever since then we've been on the way. As soon as we reached the end of the rail part of the journey here we engaged Mr. Sanderson as our guide. While coming along this afternoon we saw something like helio signals flashing in the air. The message was one for help, so we hustled along, our guide piloting. And, from some things I've heard and observed since arrival, Dick, I imagine we got here just about in time."

"As you always did," laughed Lieutenant Prescott. "But, now that I've got my breath back from my delight – Sergeant Overton, what is the meaning of prisoners in camp? And where did you find Hinkey?"

"Didn't you hear quite a lot of firing, sir?" asked Sergeant Hal.

"Firing? Considerable, but I thought some party nearer in had struck such a haul of game as you landed last night, Sergeant. Go on and tell me about it."

This Hal did, and it was all news to the lieutenant, for neither he nor any member of his hunting party had seen the helio signals.

Just as the brief spirited tale was finished the remainder of the hunting party came in, one of them being a private of hospital corps. To this man was entrusted the attending of the injured invaders.

Hinkey fairly cowered before the scorn that was apparent in the eyes of all his former comrades.

The evening meal was now nearly ready. By Hal's direction another table was set up for Lieutenant Prescott and his guests.

Then came the early, cool night. Prescott and his Naval friends sat apart for an hour, talking over the old times. Then, at last, they came over and joined the soldiers.

"May I ask a question, Lieutenant?" inquired Sergeant Hal, saluting.

"Certainly, Sergeant."

"What is to be done with the prisoners?"

"You are in command here, Sergeant."

"But isn't this a greater military matter, sir, than the mere command of a hunting camp?"

"I don't believe I need to take command, Sergeant. But I will offer you a suggestion, if you wish."

"If you will be so kind, sir."

"Why, this general group of prisoners belong to the civil authorities. You will find a jail and a sheriff very near the point where we left the train."

"Yes, sir. And Hinkey?"

"He is a prisoner of the United States Army. You can put him in charge of the same sheriff, asking him to hold Hinkey until a guard from Fort Clowdry arrives to take him. A wire to the post can be sent from the station."

"Very good, sir. Then I think I will detail Sergeant Terry, a driver and a guard of six men to escort the prisoners to the sheriff. The hospital man had better go along, too, and the injured men can travel in the wagon."

"That disposition will do very well, Sergeant. But Sergeant Terry and his men will very likely be away four days altogether."

"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir."

Saluting, and including the young Naval officers in his salute, Sergeant Overton went over to explain the plan to Noll.

"What very boyish youngsters those two sergeants are," remarked Midshipman Darrin.

"Young, yes, but as seasoned and good men as we have in the company or the regiment," replied Lieutenant Prescott.

"They certainly look like fine soldiers," agreed Midshipman Dalzell.

"They'll look very much like fine young officers, one of these days, or I miss my guess by a mile," answered Prescott. "Colonel North is very proud of these two boys, and so are Major Silsbee and Captain Cortland."

In the morning the three wounded men were placed in one of the two wagons belonging to camp. Though their hands were left free, all three had their feet shackled to staples inside the wagon.

The other five prisoners stood sulkily behind the wagon. Noll assembled the guard at the side of the trail.

"Climb up on the wagon, hospital man," called Noll. "Start ahead, driver. Squad, by twos, right, forward march."

Then the party started out.

Two of the remaining soldiers were detailed for camp, as usual. The other enlisted men went off in a hunting party by themselves.

All except Sergeant Hal. He had been invited to go with Lieutenant Prescott and the latter's friends, and had gladly accepted.

Sanderson, the guide, having been paid by his Naval employers, had already taken the trail.

"I hope you bring us luck, Dave and Dan," announced Lieutenant Prescott, as the party started. "We are still far shy of the amount of game we want to take back to the post."

CHAPTER XXIII
THE UNITED STATES SERVICES FIGHT TOGETHER

FOR more than an hour Midshipman Darrin and Sergeant Overton had been away from the rest of the party, seeking tracks or other signs of wild game.

"Sergeant," spoke Midshipman Darrin, at last, "I hope you won't be offended by the opinion I have formed of you."

"What is that, sir?" asked Hal Overton.

"I've been watching you a bit, and I've come to the conclusion that you're an uncommonly fine and keen soldier."

"Not much chance in that for offense, sir," laughed the boyish sergeant.

"But you're of the Army," said Mr. Darrin, "and I don't know whether you believe that a sailor is a judge of a soldier."

"Quite naturally, sir," laughed Hal, "I am wholly willing to believe in the value of your judgment. And I have another reason."

"What is that, Sergeant!"

"Why, sir, you're a very particular friend of Lieutenant Prescott's, and we men of B company are ready to believe in any one whom Lieutenant Prescott likes."

"You have another very fine fellow for an officer in your regiment," Mr. Darrin went on. "And that is Greg Holmes – pardon me, Lieutenant Holmes. He's as fine, in every way, as Mr. Prescott himself."

"Yes, sir. Lieutenant Holmes is as popular with the men as any officer in the regiment can be."

"You see," smiled Mr. Darrin reminiscently, "when Dalzell, Prescott, Holmes and myself were youngsters – or smaller youngsters than we are now – we were all chums together in the same High School."

Then, finding a ready and appreciative listener Midshipman Darrin plunged into the recounting of many of the former adventures of that famous group of schoolboys once known as Dick & Co., whose doings were fully set forth in the "High School Boys' Series."

Sergeant Hal heard, also, of Tom Reade and Harry Hazelton, the two remaining members of Dick & Co., whose adventures, after leaving school, are now being set forth in the "Young Engineers' Series."

But Overton did not hear about the sweethearts of these former High School chums. Sweethearts were too sacred to be discussed with comparative strangers.

"Now, Prescott informs me that you two young sergeants intend to work for commissions from the ranks," said Mr. Darrin, after a while.

"Yes, sir; that was our idea in entering the service."

"I hope, heartily, Sergeant Overton, that both you and your friend win out with your ambitions."

"Thank you, sir."

"I have a very particular reason for wishing you that luck," smiled Midshipman Darrin, "and you are at liberty, Sergeant, to ask me what it is."

"Very good, sir."

"I want to see both yourself and Sergeant Terry succeed because I don't believe the service can afford to be without two such unusually good officers as you and Sergeant Terry would make."

Hal flushed, tried to utter his thanks, and found himself confused, for Midshipman Darrin, who was taller, was gazing down at him with a very friendly look in his eyes.

"My hand has been itching for something all day," the young Naval officer went on. "Sergeant, I want to shake hands with you, if you don't mind."

Their hands met in hearty clasp.

"I shall have Prescott keep me posted regarding you two young men," went on Dave Darrin. "And, when you two are officers, if you are ever near any craft on which I'm on duty I want you to promise me that you'll come to visit me."

"You know how much delight that would give both Sergeant Terry and myself, sir."

"Attention – to the job!" suddenly muttered Dave Darrin, in a low voice.

Their long tramp had taken them alongside a low ledge.

As Darrin spoke in that low voice he raised his hunting rifle quickly, bringing the butt to his shoulder with a jerk.

He fired – straight at a bear, not more than five feet over their heads and at a total distance of only about ten feet.

But in that same instant the big, brown brute moved, and the bullet intended for his heart merely clipped away a bit of hair at the bottom of the animal's belly.

Bruin's first move had been to get away from danger, but now, at the shot, he became very much angered.

A second, swift leap, and the big animal jumped downward, landing on Midshipman Darrin's chest and bearing him to the earth.

"Lie still, sir!" gasped Sergeant Hal.

There was but a single cartridge in Overton's rifle. He clicked the bolt, then aimed all in a flash.

In his agitation Hal succeeded only in grazing the top of the animal's back.

But bruin, crouched on Darrin's body, raised his head and turned it snarlingly toward Hal.

Everything that was to be done must be done in a moment. Fortunately, the young sergeant wore his bayonet in scabbard at his belt.

Like a flash Sergeant Overton fixed that bayonet to the muzzle of his rifle, bruin regarding him with a hostile glitter in his eyes, while Midshipman Darrin, whose rifle had been hurled just out of his reach, had the presence of mind to lie utterly still.

"Now, we'll see what you'll do, bruin!" quivered Hal, making a swift lunge for the animal's side.

What bruin did was to leap away from the midshipman's prostrate body. Despite the bear's lumbering body and shambling gait he can be spry enough at need.

Hal's thrust, therefore, failed to land directly, but merely ripped along the animal's coat.

The momentum that followed the miss caused Sergeant Hal Overton to fall forward to his knees. And now the enraged bruin made straight for him.

There was time to do but one thing. Sergeant Hal made a lunge direct at the bear's eyes.

With that menace of cold steel before his eyes the bear dodged to one side, then rose to his hind feet.

Rising, Hal took his stand on the defensive, for now bruin was determined on a finish fight.

Straight at Bruin's heart lunged Hal, but it was a game at which two could play.

Bruin's massive left paw, backed by prodigious strength, swept the bayoneted rifle aside, fairly wrenching it from Overton's grasp.

So now the bear was ready, either for embrace or pursuit of this now helpless enemy.

Midshipman Dave Darrin, U. S. N., at the instant when he found the weight of the bulky animal removed from his body, had crawled noiselessly away for a few feet.

Now Darrin dropped to one knee, the rifle at ready. Aiming with the utmost coolness, the young Naval officer fired.

Straight and true went the bullet this time into Bruin's heart.

The big mass swayed, then fell. There was barely a gasp to signal the bear's end of life.

"Sergeant," remarked the midshipman coolly, "your conduct just now fully confirmed what I said about your being a valuable man for the Army."

"I probably wouldn't have been in the Army much longer, sir, if you hadn't got your rifle and fired just as you did," retorted the boyish sergeant.

"And I couldn't have reached my rifle if you hadn't shown the very unusual nerve to try to whip a bear in a bayonet charge."

"I know a good deal better, now, Mr. Darrin, how useless a bayonet attack is against a bear. Though Sergeant Terry and I once made a good haul of bear's meat with bayonets when at too close quarters with bears."

"You'll have to tell me about that as you go along," remarked the young Naval officer.

Noting the locality well, they left the bear where it had fallen, to be taken up a little later.

"Hello, sir. There are other shots from our party," cried Overton, as three rifle reports rang out not far away. "That seems to show, sir, that they're meeting with luck, too."

CHAPTER XXIV
CONCLUSION

AFTER that, through the days to come, the luck seemed to boom.

At the end of four days young Sergeant Terry and his guard returned, having turned over all the prisoners to the sheriff of Blank County.

Noll had also wired the post at Fort Clowdry, and had received the post adjutant's answer that a guard would be sent to bring Private Hinkey back for trial on the charge of desertion.

"The sheriff knew all the prisoners at once, all except Hinkey," Sergeant Noll reported back to his chum and to Lieutenant Prescott. "The leader of the gang is a half-popular fellow with some classes here in the mountains. Despite the fact that he's a desperado, he is often surprisingly good-natured, and always game when he loses. His name is Griller – Butch Griller, he's called. His crew are called the Moccasin Gang, because Griller has always preferred that his men wear moccasins instead of shoes. Shoes may give out in the wilds, but moccasins can always be made whenever an antelope is killed."

"The Moccasin Gang?" repeated Lieutenant Prescott. "Why, I've heard stories about that desperate crowd. But what were they doing around our camp?"

"Griller told me about that before we reached town," Sergeant Noll continued. "Griller and his men, it seems, were being pursued by the sheriff of the next county. He trailed them to a cabin where they had stopped and made such a complete surprise that Griller and his gang got away only by jumping through the windows without their arms. Then they traveled fast. When they found that there were soldiers here, the Moccasins hoped that they could get some of our arms and ammunition. Thus provided, they hadn't much doubt of being able to provide themselves with more fighting hardware. And they'd have gotten away, too, if it hadn't been that Butch Griller had promised Hinkey a chance for revenge on Sergeant Overton."

"But how did Hinkey come to be with them?" broke in Lieutenant Prescott.

"Griller told me about that, sir," Noll replied. "Griller said he was standing on the stoop of a house in Denver, near the ball grounds, at the time when Hinkey deserted and made his break to get away. Griller was in Denver, on the quiet, to get more men together. When he saw Hinkey running, he sized him up as a man just deserted, and felt that Hinkey would be useful to him. So he called to Hinkey, shoved him inside the house, and then, when – "

"Say, but I remember that! And now I recall where I saw Griller before. He told me that Hinkey had rushed on and turned the next street corner below. That threw me off the track," muttered Sergeant Hal.

"Well, his new man Hinkey brought him no luck," laughed Lieutenant Prescott. "And the Moccasins won't do much more harm, unless they manage to break jail."

"I don't believe they'll get away from that sheriff, anyway, sir," remarked Sergeant Noll grimly.

Noll Terry and the members of his guard were in time to do some more hunting before the happy soldiers' holiday came to an end.

When the expedition set out on its return both of the big transport wagons carried all the wild game meat that could be packed into them, and officers' and enlisted men's messes at Fort Clowdry celebrated in joyous fashion.

Ex-Private Hinkey, the deserter, was soon tried by general court-martial, and sentenced to be dismissed from the service, to forfeit all pay and allowances and to serve two years at a military prison.

It was Lieutenant Prescott who gave one of the crowning sensations just toward the close of Hinkey's trial.

Just before the battalion had left Fort Clowdry to go to the military tournament at Denver, First Sergeant Gray had asked every soldier in B Company to turn in a slip on which was written the name and address of his nearest relative or friend.

As such data was already on file, the men had wondered not a little at the request, but they had complied. And now Lieutenant Prescott informed the members of the court that it had been a ruse of his.

These slips, together with the clumsily printed note that had accompanied the return of Private William Green's money, and also the envelope addressed to Green, which latter Hal had admitted as his writing – all, just before the start of the hunting trip, had been forwarded by Lieutenant Prescott to a famous writing expert in the east.

Word had finally come from the expert to the effect that the envelope had really been addressed by Sergeant Hal, as that young soldier admitted. The printed note to Green, however, had been fashioned, the expert stated positively, by the same man who had turned in the written name and address of the "nearest friend" of ex-Private Hinkey.

With this report the expert had sent a curiously drawn chart showing resemblances between Hinkey's admitted handwriting and the printed note to Green. There were also photographs, made with the aid of the microscope, showing pronounced similarities of little strokes and flourishes that were alike, both in Hinkey's admitted handwriting and in the turns given to some of the letters of the printed note.

Summing up all the evidence, the expert's report stated positively that Hinkey was the one who had fashioned the note to Green.

Finding that he could no longer deny his guilt, Hinkey was finally driven to confession before the court.

He had hated Sergeant (then Corporal) Overton with such an intensity, Hinkey confessed, that he had found himself willing to stop at nothing that would damage the young soldier in any way.

The envelope that Hal had addressed in his own handwriting, it now turned out, was one that he had so addressed at the request of Sergeant Gray to enclose an official communication that Gray had delivered to Private Green some weeks before.

On finding this envelope, and realizing how it would implicate Hal Overton, Hinkey had even gone to the extreme of returning Green's money, when he might safely have kept and spent it.

The reason why the money had not been found during the search that had immediately followed the discovery of the robbery in the squad room was equally simple. Hinkey, the afternoon before the robbery, had made the discovery of a secret hiding place under the floor beside his cot. That hiding place had been made, at great trouble, by some soldier formerly living in the squad room, and Hinkey's discovery of it had been accidental.

Now that he was in the mood for confessing, Hinkey also described how he had slipped the revolver lightly under Sergeant Hal's blanket in passing Overton's cot.

So the mystery was wholly cleared up at last, and when ex-Private Hinkey departed to begin his term of imprisonment the Army was well rid of one who was in no sense fit to be the comrade of any honest man wearing Uncle Sam's soldier uniform.

Late in the fall the Colorado courts sent Griller and his crew to the penitentiary for long terms.

Immediately after Hinkey's trial, Lieutenant Prescott, who had gone to all the trouble to secure the evidence, drew up a brief statement, setting forth Sergeant Hal Overton's complete innocence of the squad-room robbery and declaring who the scoundrel was.

This statement was published, by direction of Colonel North, in the orders of the day.

Then, of course – human nature always works this way – even those of the soldiers who had most honestly believed in young Overton's guilt, now swarmed around him to assure him that they had never for an instant believed it possible that he could be otherwise than a most honest and wonderful soldier. Not they! Oh, no! Now that they knew who the real culprit was, these victims of human nature were ready to cross their hearts that they had known all along that Overton was absolutely guiltless; and they had even suspected, all along, who would turn out by and by to be the villain.

As has been said, this is human nature, and therefore not to be sneered at. In fact, nearly all of the men who protested so loudly to Hal Overton had the actual grace to believe themselves – as is always the case.

Private William Green, however, had been cured, ever since the return of most of his money, of the bad habit of carrying so much around with him. Seldom after that was he to be caught with more than a hundred dollars.

To Sergeant Hal it seemed impossible to thank Lieutenant Prescott sufficiently.

For, though the young soldier, even if he had not been vindicated so handsomely, would have lived down most of the suspicion in time, yet all of the stain would never have vanished had it not been for Lieutenant Prescott.

Soldiers, from the very fact of living in isolated little communities of their own, are somewhat prone to gossip over purely garrison and regimental affairs. So some of the story would always have clung about Sergeant Overton's reputation among his own kind.

"But you've stopped all of that forever, Lieutenant," protested Hal gratefully when calling, by permission, at Mr. Prescott's quarters.

"I am glad I have then, my lad," smiled back the young lieutenant. "I'm glad for your sake, Sergeant, and, if you wish, you may consider that I took much of the trouble on your account personally. But I had also a still greater motive in doing what I did."

"What was that, sir, if I may ask?"

"My own love of the service," replied Lieutenant Dick Prescott impressively. "What would the service ever amount to, Sergeant, if we allowed our best, brightest and most loyal men to be downed by suspicions against them that clearly had no base? What honest man would care to enter or to stay in the ranks of the Army if he did not feel sure that his officers would work to see him righted and enjoying his proper place in the esteem of his comrades. So, Sergeant, don't try too hard to thank me. Whatever I did for you personally, I did it ten times more for the good of the tried, old, true-blue United States Army."

Then, after a pause, Mr. Prescott went on:

"I've had my attention attracted to you more than ever, both yourself and Sergeant Terry. I see even new possibilities in you as soldiers. Do you know why?"

"No, sir."

Lieutenant Prescott laughed lightly, though there was a slight mist in his eyes as he answered:

"It may be news to you, Sergeant, but my good old schoolboy friend, now Mr. Darrin, of the Navy, has taken almost as much of a liking to you two youngsters as though you were pet younger brothers of his. Darrin watched you both often while he was here, after we returned from the hunting trip. He spoke of you frequently, and seemed to have noticed so many excellencies in both yourself and Sergeant Terry that I grew ashamed of my own slight powers of observation. Of course, you don't know anything of the old days when Mr. Darrin, Mr. Dalzell, Mr. Holmes and myself were all devoted chums."

"I think I do, sir," Sergeant Hal rejoined.

"You do? How?"

"Mr. Darrin told me a lot that day he and I spent some hours hunting together. He told me a lot about your old schoolboy days."

"That's only another proof of how much Darrin likes you, then," pursued the young lieutenant warmly. "Darrin isn't usually very talkative with new acquaintances. But what I was going to say was that, back in our schooldays, I often made a great reputation for wisdom just because I accepted Darrin's wise estimates of human nature and people. So now Darrin's praises of you two young sergeants have made me feel that I have missed a lot of what I should have observed about you both."

"Both Terry and myself will feel highly honored over such good opinions of us, sir," Hal replied.

"I wouldn't talk quite so freely if I didn't know that you're both so level-headed that a little praise will make better, instead of worse soldiers of you, Sergeant Overton. Of course, as one of your officers, I understand that both of you young sergeants are working onward and forward with the hope of one day winning commissions in the line of the Army. I wish you every kind of good luck, Overton. Here's my hand on it. And some day I hope to be able to offer you my hand again – when, wearing the shoulder straps, you come into an officers' mess, somewhere, as a fellow-member of that mess."