Uncle Sam's Boys In The Ranks Part 29

"Let's see," proposed Hal. Two chairs were quickly swung forward. Hal, who had good muscular control, took the att.i.tude named, stiffened his body, and lay between the chairs for some moments.

"He lies well and easily," observed one of the onlookers.

"Yes," agreed Private Hyman. "He's easily the champion liar of the company."

At that Hal sprang to his feet again.

As he did so he accidentally pushed one of the chairs over backward. It was close to the door, which, at that instant, opened. The flying chair struck the incomer across his s.h.i.+ns, bringing an angry exclamation from the man.

"Don't you know anything, rook?" demanded the man, Private Bill Hooper.

Hooper stood five feet ten in his socks. He was just under thirty, a man who was not popular in the company because of his unruly temper.

"I'm sorry," apologized Hal. "I didn't know you were there."

"You'll be sorrier, now," cried Hooper fiercely. Striding up to young Overton, Hooper landed a sound box on one of the boy's ears.

Hal flushed crimson in an instant.

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 repet.i.tion 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," bl.u.s.tered Private Hooper, as he unfastened his own blouse and tossed it over the end of a cot. "You need a tr.i.m.m.i.n.g, and you're going to get it right now!"

"Here, kid, b.u.t.ton 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 unb.u.t.toning 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 tr.i.m.m.i.n.g," 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 s.h.i.+rt-sleeves, appeared to be decidedly powerful.

"Step up, kid, and get your tr.i.m.m.i.n.g," 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.