Uncle Sam's Boys with Pershing's Troops Part 6

"Let me alone," insisted the other striving though failing to release his captured wrist.

"Don't do anything rash, Cartwright. Listen to good sense; then I am going to let go of your wrist. If you were to strike Holmes he would be practically bound to thrash you, or else to prefer charges. In either case the matter would get before a court-martial.

My testimony, from what I overheard, would have to sustain Holmes."

"You two would swear for each other anywhere and at all times,"

sneered Captain Cartwright.

This was hinting that d.i.c.k Prescott would be willing to perjure himself, and d.i.c.k flushed, though with difficulty he kept his patience.

"I'm going to let go of you now, Cartwright," Prescott continued.

As d.i.c.k let go of the captured wrist Captain Cartwright wheeled and aimed a vicious blow at his brother officer's face.

But Prescott's arm thrust up his adversary's.

"Stop it, Cartwright!"

Apparently the other could not control his anger. He aimed another savage blow. d.i.c.k parried with a thrust, but this time his other fist landed on Cartwright's chest with force enough to send him staggering to a fall on the floor.

At this moment a step was heard on the stairway.

"Gentlemen! Stop this! What does it mean?"

The voice was full of authority and outraged dignity. Colonel Cleaves, his eyes flas.h.i.+ng, stood before them.

"Get up, Captain Cartwright," he commanded. "I must have an instant explanation of this scene. Officers and gentlemen cannot conduct themselves like rowdies."

Captain Cartwright forced himself to smile as he saluted; he even tried to look forgiving.

"A little frolic, sir," he made haste to say, "that developed into bad blood for the moment." I do not wish to prefer any charges."

"Do you, Captain Prescott?" demanded the colonel.

"No, sir."

"You, Captain Holmes?"

"No, sir."

If any of the trio had hoped this much explanation would prove satisfactory to the E.O. of the Ninety-ninth, that one had reckoned without his host.

"A misunderstanding that develops to the point of a knock-down blow is never a trifling matter," declared Colonel Cleaves. "If you gentlemen had a.s.sured me that it was all frolic then I would have thought no more of it. But I have been a.s.sured that there was a misunderstand---a quarrel that proceeded to blows. And I myself saw one man down and signs of very evident anger on all your faces. Gentlemen, do you wish to offer me any further explanation at this moment?"

"I have said all that I really can say, sir," protested Cartwright, "except that I do not harbor any unkind feelings for what has taken place."

Steps were heard on the stairs, and other officers of the Ninety-ninth came upon the scene.

"As no charges have been preferred," said Colonel Cleaves, "I will not order any of you relieved from duty. I will notify all three of you, however, at a later hour, and will then hear you all in my office. I trust a most satisfactory explanation all around will be forthcoming."

Colonel Cleaves then turned to the group of officers that had just arrived, saying:

"Lieutenant Terry, you were kind enough to offer to loan me a book on rifle range construction. I am aware that you have not yet had a chance to send it over to me, but as I was pa.s.sing, I decided to drop in and ask it from you."

"In an instant, sir," replied Noll Terry. Saluting, he darted down the corridor, opened his door and came back with the volume.

"I am indebted to you, Mr. Terry," said Colonel Cleaves, returning the first lieutenant's second salute and turning to go.

Until they had heard the colonel go out upon the steps below the entire group of younger officers stood as though spell-bound.

But at last one of them broke out with:

"I hope nothing really nasty is afoot. Three of you look as though the moon were clouded with mischief for some one."

"You'll pardon us, won't you?" smiled d.i.c.k pleasantly, as he turned to go back into his quarters. "You will realize, as we do, that the first discussion of the matter should take place before the commanding officer."

Greg followed his chum in.

"Oh it's nothing," they heard Captain Cartwright a.s.sure the others.

"It ought to blow over, and I hope it will. A certain officer took what I thought too much liberty with me, and when I resented it his friend took a hand in the matter. I hope we can set it all straight before Colonel Cleaves."

Behind the closed door, hearing what was said, Prescott turned on his friend with eyebrows significantly raised. Greg nodded.

No word was spoken.

Apparently Captain Cartwright also went to his quarters, for the steps of many sounded outside, and then all was still.

Prescott had picked up a book and was reading. Greg walked over to the window and stood looking out into the sun-baked company street.

"I must go over to company office for an hour or so," announced Captain d.i.c.k, glancing at his wrist watch and laying down his book at last. "After that I'll go out and see how the platoon commanders are getting along with their new work. I hear that we're to have some drafts of new men to-morrow."

"Yes," Greg nodded. "Recruits from Chicago, and also from Boston.

Some day we may hope to have our companies filled up to full strength."

"Small chance to get over to France until our companies are filled,"

Prescott smiled, as he stood up, looked himself over and started for the door.

Captain Greg Holmes followed at his heels. No word was spoken of the recent trouble with Cartwright, not even when they crossed the road below and started for their respective company offices.

Paper work engrossed Prescott's attention for an hour or so.

During this time he occasionally glanced up to note what was taking place beyond the window in front of his desk. His four second lieutenants were in command of the platoons to-day, instead of sergeants. The young officers were instructing their men in the first essentials of bayonet combat.

The last piece of paper disposed of, Prescott at last arose, stretched slightly, then strode out of the office to the drill ground.

He was just in time to hear one of his lieutenants explaining to a line of men:

"When pursuing a retreating enemy one of the most effective thrusts with the bayonet can be delivered right here. Learn to mark the spot well."

Half-turning, the lieutenant pointed to the spot in the small of his own back, before he went on, impressively:

"A bayonet thrust there will drive the blade through a kidney.

I will admit that that doesn't sound like sportsman-like fighting, but unfortunately we're not to be employed against a really civilized enemy in this war. Page, you will stand out. It isn't a popular role to which I am going to a.s.sign you, but you will run slowly past me and represent a fleeing enemy. Dobson, you will take a blob-stick and chase Page, running just fast enough to overtake him in front of me. Then you will give him the kidney thrust, taking care to make your aim exact. Thrust with spirit, but do not hit hard, even with the blob-stick, for Page is not a real German."