Uncle Sam's Boys In The Ranks Part 35

Then, in some mysterious manner, the news of what had really happened began to spread.

In the night unknown men had broken into Major Silsbee's house. This had not been a difficult thing to do as, on a military post, doors are rarely locked. Not one of the three entrances to Major Silsbee's quarters had been locked at the time.

Downstairs the thieves had gathered a few articles together, but had not taken them, as they had found better plunder upstairs. From a dressing-room adjoining Mrs. Silsbee's sleeping apartment the prowlers had taken a jewel case containing jewels worth some three thousand dollars. There had also been about two hundred dollars in money in the case.

As the thieves were leaving the house they were seen by a sentry some sixty yards away. The sentry had challenged, then fired. The thieves had fled, swiftly, running directly away from all light. But another sentry had also seen them, and had fired. Both sentries had agreed that there were four men, and that they wore the uniforms of soldiers.

The thieves made good their escape. Soon after the alarm was given forty men from A and D companies had been silently turned out to aid in establis.h.i.+ng a stronger guard, and the barracks building had been watched through the rest of the night.

Yet no soldier had been caught trying to get back into barracks, nor had any man been missing at roll-call unless well accounted for.

"Somewhere in this battalion, then," murmured Noll to a man in C Company, "there are four soldiers who are thieves."

"Yes," replied the soldier bluntly, "and it looks as though your bunkie at the recruit rendezvous might know something about it."

"Hal Overton doesn't know," flared Noll promptly, "or he'd have told!"

CHAPTER XVIII

THE ANONYMOUS LETTER

IT was a four days' wonder, and then it dropped.

The search at barracks had revealed nothing. There was not a soldier on the post against whom any tangible suspicion pointed.

"There's just one way that a clue might be found," muttered Private Bill Hooper, one morning in Sergeant Hupner's squad room. "In time it may turn out that a sweetheart of some soldier gets some pretty jewelry trinkets given to her."

He glared covertly, though meaningly, at Hal Overton.

But Hal was far enough away neither to see nor to hear Hooper's fling.

"You'll never get caught on that trick, Bill," jeered Private Hyman. "No girl would look at you, even if you displayed the whole of the missing jewelry."

"I've had my share of sweethearts in my day," growled big Private Hooper.

"That was before your face changed for worse," grinned Hyman.

"Don't get gay with me," warned Hooper sulkily, "or your face may suffer some changes!"

"Go over and thump the kid," proposed Hyman.

It was Hal who was meant by the term "kid."

"I don't like that youngster," muttered Hooper. "And I don't trust him, either."

"That'll never worry Hal Overton," smiled Hyman. "Hooper, you look so untidy that it's a wonder Sergeant Hupner doesn't 'call' you oftener for it. And you clean up your rifle about once a fortnight. Look at Overton over there."

Hal was at work with his kit of cleaning tools, going over his rifle as methodically and industriously as though it were a piece of rare silver plate.

"He'll rub and polish that old piece of his until he wears it out,"

mumbled Hooper.

"One of the surest signs of the good soldier is when you see him putting in a lot of his spare time caring for his uniforms and equipments,"

broke in Sergeant Hupner, behind them. "Hooper, go and brush your uniform, and clean your boots and polish 'em. I'll report you, if I see you so slouchy in the future."

Bill Hooper moved away, scowling.

Sergeant Gray strode in at that moment.

"Do you want leave to go to town to-day, reporting back at tattoo, Hyman?" inquired the first sergeant.

"Thank you, yes, Sergeant."

"All right; I'll turn you in on the list to Captain Cortland. I'll notify you of leave within half an hour."

Then he stepped over to Hal.

"Overton, you haven't had any leave to visit town since you joined.

Would you like to take leave to-day?"

"No, Sergeant, thank you."

Sergeant Gray looked his surprise.

"Why not?" he demanded.

"I have too much to learn right here, Sergeant. I'm going to stick, and work, until I'm out of the recruit cla.s.s."

"Good boy!" murmured Gray, in an undertone, and pa.s.sed on. But Gray stopped when he came up with Hupner.

"Hupner, you've got a valuable man in Overton."

"I know it, Sergeant."

"Give him all the little points you can that will take him out of the recruit cla.s.s promptly."

"Why, Sergeant," smiled Hupner, "Overton can go out of the recruit cla.s.s at about any time now. Report him for the guard detail any time that you want. He'll make good. He's keen on every bit of his work. He can go through his manual of arms like a juggler. He has studied his infantry drill regulations until he's about worn the book out; he knows his manual of guard duty by heart, and it would be mighty hard to trip him anywhere in his small arms firing manual. Have you noticed his facings and his marching at drill?"

"Yes," nodded Sergeant Gray thoughtfully. "The boy's a good one, all right."

"Take it from me, Sergeant--you needn't hesitate to detail the kid for guard or any other duty. He'll suit Captain Cortland."

"I'll detail him for guard, then, as soon as I can," returned Sergeant Gray. "That gives a young soldier confidence as soon as anything else ever does."

As often as is practicable enlisted men are given a day's leave, with permission to go off post and visit the nearest town. This leave is given to men known to be of good conduct. A "bad" soldier, when one is found, gets little in the way of leave.