Mark breathed a sigh of relief as he saw that he had won. He dismounted, led his horse over to the side of the road, and sat down. Texas followed him, though his unwillingness was written on his face.
"Now see here, old man," Mark began, having gotten him quiet, as he thought. "I want to talk to you some."
"Pshaw!" growled Texas. "I don"t want to talk. I want to git up an" git, an" have some fun."
"Well, now, see here, Texas," Mark continued. "Don"t you know if you are seen carrying on this way you"ll get into trouble? How about drill in a few minutes?"
"Ain"t goin" to drill!" cried the other, wriggling nervously in his seat, and twitching his fingers with excitement. "Tired o" drillin"! I"m a-goin" to have some fun!"
"But don"t you know, man, that you"ll be expelled?" Mark pleaded.
"Expelled! Wow!"
That was the spark that started the conflagration again. Texas leaped to his feet with fury.
"Expelled!" he roared. "Who"ll expel me? Whoop! I"d like to see anybody in this place try it naow, by thunder! I"ll show "em! I"ll hold up the hull place! Watch me scare "em! Whoop!"
And almost before Mark could move or say anything, the wild lad sprang forward at a bound and landed upon his horse"s back. A moment later he was off like a shot, leaving only a cloud of dust and an echo of yells behind him.
"Wow! Whoop! Who"ll expel me? Come out yere, you ole officers, an" try it! Wow!"
Texas was on the warpath again. This time headed straight for West Point.
And riding behind him with desperate speed, scarcely fifty yards in the rear, was Mark, pursuing with all his might, and trembling with alarm as he thought of what that desperate cowboy might do when once he reached the post.
For West Point, and the crowded parade ground, were not a quarter of a mile away.
CHAPTER XI.
TEXAS RAIDS WEST POINT.
The summer season is a gay one at West Point. During the winter cadet life is a serious round of drill and duty, but after that comes a three months" holiday, when cadets put on their best uniforms and welcome mothers and sisters and other fellows" sisters to the post. There are hops then, and full dress parades, and exhibition drills galore.
It was one of these drills that was going on that morning, perhaps of all of them the most showy and interesting to the stranger. And the mothers and sisters and other fellows" sisters were out in full force to see it.
"Light artillery drill" is practice in the handling and firing of field cannon. The cadets learn to handle heavy guns also, practicing with the "siege and seacoast batteries" that front on the southern sh.o.r.e of the Hudson. But the drill with the field pieces is held on the cavalry plain, a broad, turfless field just south of the camp.
The field presented a pretty sight on that morning. It was surrounded with a wall of trees, behind which, to the south, the somber gray stone of barracks stood out, with the academy building, the chapel and the library. To the north the white tents of the camp shone through the trees and a little further to the left, the Battle Monument rose above them and caught on its marble sides the glistening rays of the sun.
Beneath the trees all around the plain and crowding the steps of the buildings, were scattered groups of spectators, the gay dresses of the women helping to make a setting of color.
There was a jingling of harness, a rumbling of wheels, and a murmur of excitement among the spectators as the cadet corps put in an appearance, natty and handsome in their uniforms, the officers riding on horseback, and the privates mounted on the cannon or the caissons. Platoon after platoon they swept out upon the field; then formed in accordance with the sharp commands of the officers; and in a few minutes more "artillery drill" was under way.
It is rather an inspiring sight at times. There are over a dozen of the cannon, with four horses each to draw them, and when the whole squadron gets into motion at once, there is a thundering of hoofs and a cloud of dust behind to mark the path. And then when they wheel, and aim and fire, the roar of the discharge echoes among the hills and makes the post seem very military and warlike indeed.
So thought the spectators as they sat and watched, too much interested to have any eyes for what might happen elsewhere. But those who sat on the southern edge of the plain, where the road from Highland Falls emerged, were destined to witness a far more exciting incident than that, an incident which was not down on the programme, and which the tactical officers and the commandant of cadets, who stood by their horses at one side, had not planned or prepared for.
The last discharge of the morning"s drill was yet ringing in the spectators" ears, and the sound barely had time to make its way down the road, before it was answered and flung back by another volley that was all the louder for its unexpectedness.
Bang! Bang!
The people turned and gazed in alarm. The cadet captain out upon the field stopped in the very midst of a command and leaned forward in his saddle to see; a sentry marching up the street forgot his orders and wheeled about in surprise. There was the wildest kind of excitement in a moment.
A horseman was racing up the road, galloping blindly ahead at full tilt.
He wore the uniform of a cadet, and his face was red with excitement. He leaned forward over his horse, firing right and left into the air, while from his throat proceeded a series of yells such as no one in that vast crowd had ever heard before.
"Wow! Wow! Whoop!"
There was no time for exclamations from the spectators, no time for questions or anything else. It was scarcely a second more before the wild rider was upon them and he drove straight through the crowd with the speed of an express train, neither he or his horse heeding any one.
The panic-stricken people fled in all directions, some of them barely escaping the flying animal"s hoofs. And in a moment more he was out on the open plain, heading straight for the squadron.
"Wow! Wow!" yelled the rider. "Expel me, will ye? What ye got them guns for, hey? Hold up yer hands! Whoop!"
Shouting thus at the top of his lungs, he was almost upon the cadets when the frightened spectators heard another rattle of hoofs and another rider burst through the open s.p.a.ce in full pursuit. It was Mark, and he was desperate then, galloping even more furiously than the cowboy in front, for he knew that no one but he could ever stop Texas now.
The amazement and fright of the spectators cannot be pictured; nor the anger of the officers who saw it all. These latter put spurs to their horses and galloped out to the two; but Texas and Mark behind him had already reached the dumfounded cadets.
Texas had emptied the two revolvers in his hands, and he raced yelling across the plain. With a whoop he flung them at the nearest cadet, and whipping two more from his belt, opened fire point-blank.
"Wow! Whoop!" he howled. "Expel me, will ye? Take that!"
Bang! Bang!
Half the horrified cadets turned to run; some dropped down behind the cannon and the horses, when Texas fired there was not a man in sight.
Mark was almost upon him when the first bullet struck. It hit one of the horses upon the flank, and tore a deep gash. The animal reared and snorted with terror. His companions in harness took the alarm, and almost at that same instant started on a wild dash across the field, the four of them whirling the heavy cannon along as if it had been a toy.
A few yards ahead was the end of the field, and there, crowded in a dense ma.s.s, people who had rushed to that side to avoid the Texan"s flying speed. And toward that surging, frightened ma.s.s the four horses plunged with might and main.
It was a terrible moment. Those who saw the danger gasped, cried out in horror, but those who stood in the path of the flying steeds were too frightened to move. The move had come so suddenly, so unexpectedly. The crowd stood huddled together; the crash came before they had time to realize what was happening.
In the moment"s excitement, the two hors.e.m.e.n had remained unnoticed.
Texas had seen the runaway, seen the crowd an instant later. Through his confused and excited brain the consequences of his acts seemed to flash with the sharpness of a thunderbolt. He had acted with the quickness of a man who lives, knowing that at any moment he may be called upon to "pull his gun," and defend his life. He had wheeled his horse about, plunged his heels into the horse"s sides, and at that moment was sweeping around in a wild race for the leaders of the runaway four.
Quick as Texas was, Mark was a moment ahead of him. As he raced across the plain toward his friend he had seen the horses start and swerve and made for them, approaching from the opposite side to the Texan.
All this had happened in the snapping of a finger--the dash of the four, and two racing from each side to head them off. And it was all over before the imperiled crowd could turn to flee.
Texas was seen to leap out over his horse"s head and seize the bridle of one of the leaders as he fell. The crowd saw Mark"s horse, dashing in from the other side, barely a foot from the ma.s.s of the spectators, crash into the Texan"s flying steed. They saw the horse go down; they saw Mark disappear. And then in the crush that followed he was lost to sight beneath the plunging hoofs of the four.
There was a moment of blind confusion after that in which each one in the crowd had time to think and see for himself alone. The spectators were pushing wildly back before the onslaught of the approaching horses.
Several of the cadets and officers had sprung forward to seize the horses" heads; Texas was clinging to the bridle with all his strength.
And Mark--Mark"s was the greatest peril of all. He had fallen over his horse"s neck; he had seen the two leaders plunging toward him, stumbling over the body of his own prostrate horse, crushing down upon him--and then before his dazed eyes had swept a flying rein. He saw it, and clutched at it, as a drowning man might do; raised himself upon it with a mighty tug, and then a moment later was hurled far out over the plain, as the horse he clung to, stopped in its rush, went down in a heap with the cannon on top.