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Uncle Sam's Boys in the Ranks, a novel by H. Irving Hancock |
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Chapter 15. Private Bill Hooper Learns |
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_ CHAPTER XV. PRIVATE BILL HOOPER LEARNS "HOLD on, Hooper!" "Don't act like a dog!" "He's only a kid--can't you see?" Then something happened like lightning. Private Hal Overton had meant to take all his hazing good-humoredly. But a blow struck in anger, and without just cause, was more than he was prepared to brook. "Sergeant Gray told me I was not expected to stand abuse," flashed through his mind. So, instead of cringing away from a repetition of the blow, Hal took a sudden bound forward. Whack! "I have no use for a box on the ear," smiled Hal grimly. "So you can have it back!" Private Bill Hooper let out a roar, then sprang for the boy, intending to pulverize the young rookie with his fists. But five or six of the men sprang between them, forming an effective human wall. "Shame on you, Hooper!" "That's no way for a man to act." "Get off your blouse, kid," blustered Private Hooper, as he unfastened his own blouse and tossed it over the end of a cot. "You need a trimming, and you're going to get it right now!" "Here, kid, button your blouse up again," ordered Private Hyman. "You ain't called upon to fight that bully. Hooper, if you're spoiling for fight I'll do my best to be kind to you." But Hal, the flush dying from his cheeks, coolly continued unbuttoning his blouse. Then he pulled it off, handing it to a soldier near by. "Dress yourself, kid. You don't have to fight a man twice your size." "Let some one else have the job, kid. There's some of us here will take it." "The kid will stand up and take his own trimming," announced Hooper, with ugly emphasis. "No, no, no!" "Beat it, Hooper!" "Mates," went on Hal, as soon as he could make himself heard, "I'm willing to stand for anything that's coming to a rook. But this is a case that calls for something different. I've got to satisfy this man that I can stand up before a pair of fists, or he'll never respect me enough to let me alone." "Why, kid, a man of Hooper's size will reduce you to powder," objected Hyman seriously. "It's all right to have sand, and I guess you've got it, but you've no call to be slaughtered." "He'll thrash me," agreed Hal coolly, "but I'll get in enough on him to make him want to let me alone after this. I'm ready for the fellow." Realizing that the rookie was in earnest the soldiers stepped away from between the pair. "But you play fair, Hooper, or we'll kick you all over the squad room," warned another soldier. Private Hooper clenched his fists, and stood flexing his arms, which, through his shirt-sleeves, appeared to be decidedly powerful. "Step up, kid, and get your trimming," he invited, with a ferocious smile. "I don't know much about fighting," admitted Hal, smiling pleasantly. "All I know my dancing teacher taught me." That raised a laugh and angered Hooper. This was just what the rookie wanted to do, for he judged that Hooper could be prodded into a blind rage. Hooper now jumped forward, aiming an ugly swing for Hal's head. But the rookie side-stepped swiftly out of the way. As he did so, one foot dragged in front of the advancing bully. Hooper tripped over that foot, and the force of his swing carried him forward so that he fell flat on his face. "Too bad! I hope you didn't hurt yourself," teased Hal sweetly, whirling about like a flash. Hooper was up with an oath, wind-milling his big arms. "Take that!" he roared, aiming a heavy blow straight at Hal's chest. "Against the rules of my dancing master!" mimicked Hal, bounding to the left. As he did so he let his right fist drop on the point of Hooper's chin. "Ugh!" grunted the bully. "Spit it out, if it got in your mouth," advised Hal unconcernedly, as he again faced his antagonist. From the way he dodged the next six or eight assaults it did look as though Hal had spoken the truth when he stated that he had learned his style of fighting from a dancing master. For the nimble rookie never did seem to be just where Bill Hooper looked for him when landing blows. "Take your partners!" mocked Hal Overton, as he darted past again. This time, however, he landed a very hot and powerful blow right against Hooper's right eye. Now cautious cries of approval went up from the other men crowding about. All of the men were careful not to make much noise, through fear of bringing interference. A minute later Hooper received such a stinging blow on the nose that it brought a little trickle of red. "Woof!" panted Hal, in going by again. "Woof!" echoed Hooper. "Wow--ow--ugh!" Then he doubled up, winded, for Hal, after feinting for the big fellow's face had calmly but forcefully struck him just above the beltline. Hooper was out of it for the present, and he knew it. "Now sail in and finish him, rook!" called four or five men at once. "Not this time," replied Hal, going over to the soldier who held his blouse, taking the garment and putting it on. "I'll save the rest for the next dance whenever Hooper feels festive." Grateful that he didn't have to stand and take punishment in his present condition, Hooper groped to a chair and sat down. "Now, then, mates," announced Hal modestly, "when we were interrupted I was trying to show you that I don't ache to be a hero. Being a regular is good enough for me. I am ready to answer any further questions." But just at that moment a bugle sounded the call to drill. "You've answered enough questions for the present, rook," replied Private Hyman, patting Overton on the shoulder as he went by. Hooper struggled into his blouse, then went over to a sink and washed the red from his nose before hurrying out with the others. The big private didn't even look at Hal Overton as he went by. Being excused from duty for the day, Hal went in search of Noll Terry. He found him waiting outside of barracks. "Whew, but I've been through a mill," sighed Noll. "I've been ground just a bit myself," laughed Hal. "Did the fellows twit you about last night's work?" asked Noll curiously. "Well, some," admitted Hal. "If there's anything left that the fellows in the squad room can think of to do to me, I'm wondering what it is," grunted Private Terry. "Oh, they'll think up enough things," Hal declared. "We needn't imagine that our mates will exhaust themselves in twenty minutes of fun. You didn't lose your temper, did you, Noll?" "No; and I don't want to. But there's one fellow in our room that I am certain I'll have to fight before I get through." "There's a fellow in our room that I don't believe I will have to fight," chuckled Private Overton. "Have you been in a fight already?" asked Noll, flashing a swift look at his chum. "Oh, no," Hal answered. "A dancing lesson was as far as I got this morning. But come along, Noll. I want to get where we can get a look at the great mountains yonder. My, how they seem to tower above the fort and wall us in!" Fort Clowdry was some fifty-two hundred feet above sea level. From there, however, high mountains were visible that extended some thousands of feet higher in the air. All about was a great view of rugged mountain scenery. Over past the buildings at the west end of the post the two rookies wandered. Now they had a noble view of the mountains. "Are you going off post this afternoon, as the colonel said we could?" asked Noll, by and by. "Not unless you very much want to, Noll. Can't we put in the time better learning our way around the post?" "Perhaps we can," assented Noll. A soldier came along, driving a pair of mules to which a quarter master's wagon was hitched. As he drew near, with a heavy load aboard, he halted to rest the mules. "Rooks, ain't ye?" questioned the soldier. "Yes," admitted Hal. "Taking a survey of the post?" "Rather. We don't have to report for duty until to-morrow." After a few moments the soldier climbed down from the seat of the wagon. He was wholly willing to tell the boys whatever they wanted to know about Fort Clowdry and to point out the features of interest in the surrounding lines of mountains. "Ever go hunting?" asked the soldier, at last. "Yes; after squirrels and partridges," laughed Hal. "No real hunting, though?" "None." "Then, if you can keep out of discipline troubles, ye'll have some fun around here by and by." "Soldiers don't have much time for hunting, do they?" Hal asked. "Those that know how to hunt do," replied the older soldier. "That's part of the life here. Didn't ye ever hear about soldier hunting parties?" "I certainly haven't," Hal admitted. "Why, men of good conduct are often allowed to go off on hunting parties when the game's running right. Generally there's six or eight men to a party, and all have to be fair shots, for the K. O. doesn't aim to have too much ammunition wasted," explained the old soldier. "One of the party is a non-com and he has charge of the party." "What do the hunters get?" queried Hal. "Well, for bigger game, bear and mountain antelope mostly. Then some parties go after birds; there's plenty of them, too, in the mountains, at the right seasons." "Say!" exploded Noll, his eyes shining. "Think ye'd like to go on a hunting party, do ye?" asked the soldier. "Get up yer record for marksmanship, then." "What's done with the game?" asked Noll innocently. "What----" the soldier started to repeat. Then he added, dryly: "Oh, we send the game to the hospitals in Denver and Pueblo, of course!" "Don't we get any of it to eat?" asked Noll, looking up. "Say, don't ever go off with a party that doesn't bring back a big haul of game," advised the older soldier. "If ye do, the company cooks will lynch ye. Why, that's what we go hunting for--to vary the bill of fare here at the post. Sometimes, when we're all just aching for bear steaks, an officer and twenty or thirty men all hike off at once into the mountain trails. There are plenty of game dinners at Clowdry, at different times in the year." Then the soldier climbed leisurely to the seat of his wagon and started on again. "I wonder if he was fooling us about hunting parties," mused Hal. Later on, however, the rookies discovered that the soldier had told them the truth. On some of the Western posts, hunting forms one of the diversions of the men. Presently they met another soldier, this time afoot. "How far can we go without getting off the reservation?" Hal inquired. "The way you're headed now you can go another mile without getting off limits," the soldier replied. "Reservation" is a term applied to the limits of an Army post. Wherever an Army post exists it includes land reserved by the United States from the jurisdiction of the individual state. Hence the name of reservation. It was wilder country out here, away from the well-kept roads. "Come on," urged Hal. "I'm going to take a good walk yet." They had gone along, briskly, for at least another half mile when some flying missile went by Hal's head. Noll, who was just behind him, saw the missile, and watched it land on the ground beyond. "Whoever is throwing rocks of that size--quit!" shouted Noll, wheeling to his left and glaring at an irregularly-shaped ledge some sixty yards away. "Let's see who it is, anyway," cried Hal, darting toward the ledge. By the time they reached the ledge they heard some lively scrambling among the rocks beyond, but neither rookie could see anyone. All was quiet for a few moments. Then a foot slipped on a stone, at a little distance. Hal raced straight in the direction of the sound. He was in time to see a crouching, running figure darting in and out among the rocks. "Come on, Noll! We've got him!" yelled Hal. In another minute they had overtaken the fugitive, who now stood panting at bay. "Well, you're a nice one!" ejaculated Private Hal Overton. "Tip Branders--out here in Colorado!" ejaculated Noll Terry. "No; my name ain't Branders. Ye've got me mixed up with somebody else!" glowered the young man at bay. _ |
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