"We ought to haze him ten times as hard to-night to make up for it!" was the verdict.
And so it happened that the seven, by their action, brought down upon their heads all the hazing that was done after taps. This hazing, too, was by far the least pleasant, for it was attended to only by the more reckless members of the cla.s.s, members who could not satisfy their taste for torture by making a helpless plebe sing songs, but must needs tumble him out of bed and ride him on a rail at midnight besides.
The fact, however, that all such members of the yearling cla.s.s had decided to concentrate their torments upon him did not worry Mark in the least. In fact, that was just what Mark had expected and prepared for.
And so there was destined to be fun that night.
"Now go to your tents, make down your bedding just as you were taught at barracks; do not remove your underclothing; hang up your uniforms where each man can get his own in an instant; put your shoes and caps where you can get them in the dark if need be; turn in and blow your candle out, before the drum strikes "taps," at ten. After that, not a sound!
Get to sleep as soon as you can and be ready to form here at reveille."
So spoke Cadet Corporal Jasper; and then at the added command, "Break ranks, march!" the plebe company scattered, and with many a sigh of relief vanished as individuals in the various tents.
The corporal"s last order, "be ready to form here at reveille," is a source of much worriment to the plebe. But the one before it, "get to sleep as soon as you can," is obeyed with the alacrity born of hours of drill and marching. Long before tattoo, which is the signal for "lights out," the majority of the members of the cla.s.s were already dreaming.
Perhaps they were not resting very easily, for most of them had a vague idea that there might be trouble that night; but they knew that lying awake would not stop it, and they were all too sleepy anyway.
The last closing ceremony of a West Point day in camp is the watchful "tac"s" inspection. One of these officers goes the rounds with a dark lantern, flashing it into every tent and making sure that the four occupants are really in bed. (The "bed" consists of a board floor, and blankets.) Having attended to this duty, the tac likewise retires and Camp McPherson sinks into the slumbers of the night.
After that until five the next morning there is no one awake but the tireless sentries. A word about these. The camp is a military one and is never without guard from the moment the tents are stretched until the 29th of August, when the snowy canvas comes to the ground once more. The "guard tent" is at the western end of the camp, and is under the charge of the "corporal of the guard," a cadet. The sentries are cadets, too, and there are five of them, numbered--sentry No. 1 and so on. The ceremony each morning at which these sentries go on duty is called "guard-mounting." And during the next twenty-four hours these sentries are on duty two hours in every six--two hours on and then four off, making eight in the twenty-four.
These sentries being cadets themselves--and yearlings at present--hazing is not so difficult as it might seem. A sentry can easily arrange to have parties cross his beat without his seeing them; it is only when the sentry is not in the plot that the thing is dangerous.
The "tac"--Lieutenant Allen was his name--had made his rounds for the night, finding plebes and yearlings, too, all sleeping soundly, or apparently so. And after that there was nothing moving but the tramping sentinels, and the shadows of the trees in the moonlight as they fell on the shining tents--that is, there was nothing moving that was visible. The yearlings, plenty of them, were wide awake in their tents and preparing for their onslaught upon the sleeping plebes.
Sleeping? Perhaps, but certainly not all of them. Some of those plebes were as wide awake as the yearlings, and they were engaged in an occupation that would have taken the yearlings considerably by surprise if they had known it. There were seven of them in two tents, tents that were back to back and close together, one being in Company A and one in B.
They were very quiet about their work; for it was a risky business.
Discovery would have meant the sentry"s yelling for the corporal of the guard; meant that Lieutenant Allen would have leaped into his trousers and been out of his tent at the corporal"s heels; meant a strict investigation, discovery, court-martial and dismissal. It was all right for yearlings to be out at night; but plebes--never!
It grew riskier still as a few minutes pa.s.sed, for one of the B. J.
beasts had the temerity to come out of his tent. He came very cautiously, it was true, worming his way along the ground silently, in true Indian--or Texas style. For Texas it was, that adventurous youth having vowed and declared that if he were not allowed to attend to this particular piece of mischief he would go out and hold up a sentry instead; the other three occupants were peering under the tent folds watching him anxiously as he crawled along.
As a fact, Texas" peril was not as great as was supposed, for the sentries had no means of telling if he was a yearling or not. The idea of a plebe"s daring to break rules would not have occurred to them anyhow. Be that as it may, at any rate n.o.body interrupted the Seven Devils" plans. Cadet Powers made his way across the "street," deposited his burden, a glistening steel revolver some two feet long. And then he stole back and the crowd lay still in their tents and watched and waited.
They had not long to do that. Texas barely had time to crawl under the canvas and to mutter to his friends--for the hundredth time:
"Didn"t I tell ye them air guns "ud come in handy?"
At that very moment a sound of m.u.f.fled laughter warned them that the moment had arrived.
"Just in time!" whispered Mark, seizing his friend by the hand and at the same time giving vent to a subdued chuckle. "Just in time. S-sh!"
The four, who lay side by side under the tent, could hear each other"s hearts thumping then.
"Will it work? Will it work?" was the thought in the mind of every one of them.
CHAPTER x.x.xII.
CONCLUSION.
The yearlings were a merry party, about ten of them, and they were out for fun and all the fun that could be had. They were going to make it hot for certain B. J. plebes, and they meant to lose no time about it, either. They crept up the company street, laughing and talking in whispers, for fear they should arouse the tac. The sentries they did not care about, of course, for the sentries were pledged to "look the other way."
It was decided that the first thing to be done to those B. J. plebes was to "yank "em." Yanking is a West Point invention. It means that the victim finds his blanket seized by one corner and torn from under him, hurling him to the ground. Many a plebe"s nightmares are punctuated with just such periods as these.
It seems that a "yanking" was just what the four had prepared for. They had prepared for it by huddling up in one corner and rigging dummies to place in their beds. The dummies consisted of wash basins, buckets, etc., and it was calculated that when these dummies were yanked they would be far from dumb.
The yearlings stole up cautiously; they did not know they were watched.
The breathless plebes saw their shadows on the tent walls, and knew just what was going on. They saw the figures line up at the back; they saw half a dozen pairs of hands gently raise the canvas, and get a good firm grip on the blankets. Then came a subdued "Now!" and then--well, things began to happen after that!
The yearlings "yanked" with all the power of their arms. The blankets gave way, and the result was a perfectly amazing clatter and crash. Have you ever heard half a dozen able-bodied dishwashers working at once?
Naturally the wildest panic resulted among the attacking party. They did not know what they had done, but they did know that they had done something desperate, and that they wished they hadn"t. As the sound broke out on the still, night air they turned in alarm and made a wild dash for their tents.
Two of them raced down the company street at top speed; both of them suddenly struck an unexpected obstruction and were sent flying through the air. It was a string; and at one end of it was the Texas .44-caliber. The result was a bang that woke the camp with a jump. And then there was fun for fair.
The sentries knew then that every one was awake, including the "tac,"
and that they might just as well, therefore, "give the alarm." All five of them accordingly set up a wild shout for the corporal of the guard.
This brought the young officer and Lieutenant Allen on the scene in no time. Also it brought from the land of dreams every cadet in the corps who had managed to sleep through the former racket. And nearly all of them rushed to their tent doors wondering what would happen next.
The seven meanwhile had been working like beavers. The instant the gun had gone off Texas, who held the string, had yanked it in and stowed it away with his other weapons, shaking with laughter in the meanwhile. The others had gone to work with a will; pitcher, basin, bucket, everything, had been hastily set in place; blankets had been relaid; and everything, in short, was put in order again, so that by the time that Lieutenant Allen got around to their tent--the officer had seized his lantern and set out on a hasty round to discover the jokers--he found four "scared"
plebes, sitting up in beds, sleepily rubbing their eyes, and inquiring in anxiety:
"What"s the matter?"
He didn"t tell them, for he hadn"t the remotest idea himself. And n.o.body told him; the yearlings couldn"t have if they had wanted to.
Of course the lieutenant didn"t care to stay awake all night, fruitlessly asking questions; so he went to bed. The sentries resumed their march, wondering meanwhile what on earth had led their cla.s.smates to make so much rumpus, and speculating as to whether it could possibly be true, what one cadet had suggested--that that wild and woolly Texan had tried to shoot some one who had hazed him. The rest of the cadets dropped off to sleep. And soon everybody was quiet again--that is, except the Seven Devils.
The Seven Devils had only just begun. They lay and waited until things were still, and then Mark gave the order, and the crowd rose as one man and stole softly out into the street. This included even the trembling Indian, who was muttering "Bless my soul!" at a great rate.
"I guess they"re all asleep now," whispered Mark.
"What are you going to do?" inquired Indian.
"Yank "em," responded Mark, briefly. "Come ahead."
Mark had seen that the yearlings came up boldly, which told him at once that the sentries were "fixed," and he calculated that just at the moment the moon being clouded, the sentries would not know yearlings from plebes. The only danger was that Lieutenant Allen might still be awake. It was risky, but then----
"Do you see Bull Harris" tent?" Mark whispered. "It is the sixth from here. He and the Baby, with Vance and Murray, are in there. Now, then."
With trembling hearts the crowd crept down the street; this was their first venture as lawbreakers. They stole up behind the tent just as the yearlings had; they reached under the canvas and seized the blankets.
And then came a sudden haul--and confusion and muttered yells from the inside, which told them that no dummies had been yanked this time.
The yearlings sprang up in wrath and gazed out; retreating footsteps and m.u.f.fled laughter were all that remained, and they went back to bed in disgust. The plebes went, too, in high glee.
"And now," said Mark. "I guess we might as well go to sleep."