On Guard Part 31

"I've seen her hangin' roun' the hospital inquirin' fo' Mark. An' I can tell by the way she looks at him. I don't think she likes to see him so chummy with Grace."

"That's more romantic yet," chuckled Dewey. "Why don't Mark care for her?"

"You see," said Texas, "some o' the cadets, one of 'em a pretty decent feller, a friend o' Mark's, told him that she waren't--she waren't quite right. She's somethin' of a flirt, you know. I don't like girls that kind much myself an' I'm sure Mark don't. He's kep' pretty shy o' her, an' I kinder think she's noticed it."

"Is she pretty?" inquired the other.

"She's mos' as pretty as Grace," responded Texas. "An' that's sayin' a deal. She's what you call a brunette--black hair an' eyes. There's some girls a feller feels are all right; he feels he's a better feller when he's with them. Grace Fuller's one of 'em. She's jes' the angel we call her. Then there's some that ain't, an' this girl's one of them."

"Quite a character a.n.a.lysis," laughed the other. "But I guess, b'gee, you're right, all the same. And speaking of unpleasant characters, there's that Bull Harris. We haven't heard from him for a long time."

"I reckon," said Texas, "Bull's been wantin' to see what the first cla.s.s'd do to Mark since he'd failed to haze him. I reckon the durty ole rascal's right well satisfied now."

"You don't love him much," observed the other.

"Why should I? Ain't he tried every mean kid trick he could think of on Mark an' me, too? He's all right to bully girls but when he tried Mark now, he found he'd hit a snag. He's been doin' nothin' ever since but tryin' to get us into sc.r.a.pes. An' I was thinkin' to-day, 'tain't no lucky sign he's quiet. I jes' reckon he's plottin' some new durnation trick."

"I wish he'd come on with it," laughed Dewey. "Life is getting really monotonous the last two days since Mark's been in hospital. We've been having so many lively and interesting brushes with the cadets, b'gee, that I can't get along without some excitement at least every day."

"I reckon it'll come soon enough," observed Texas. "An' they say when you speak of angels they flap their wings. I wonder how 'bout devils.

There's ole Bull Harris now, the third feller from the right in the front rank of A."

"And he's going out to salute the general," observed Dewey. "I wish we had another bloodhound now so's we could put it on his trail the way we did once. B'gee, but he was mad!"

As the two had been talking the battalion had formed on the company ground; roll call had pa.s.sed quickly, and the cadet adjutant had turned the parade over to the charge of the tactical officer, Lieutenant Allen.

The latter's sharp commands had rung out a moment later and the firmly-stepping lines had swung around and were now well on their way down the parade ground, at the other end of which stood the famous general and his staff.

It was an inspiring moment. The air seemed fairly to shake with the gay music of the band. The cadet's uniforms and equipments were glittering in the sunlight, their banners waving on the breeze. They wheeled like so many splendid pieces of mechanism and in a few moments more were standing at "present arms" in one long line that extended the width of the field.

The officers brought their swords up to the salute and the spectators cheered, as a handsome figure rode out from the group of officers and cantered down the line. It was General Miles himself, a fine military figure, striking and imposing. The cadets would have cheered him, too, if they had dared.

During this interesting ceremony our two friends of the plebe cla.s.s had gotten up and started on a run for the scene. They had been so much interested in their discussion of "Meg" Adams and Bull Harris that they had forgotten all about watching this. But by the time they got there the review was over, and the cadets had scattered once more. This time to prepare for exhibition drill of the afternoon.

The two wandered about disconsolately after that, Texas growling at Dewey for having talked too much. And then suddenly the former stopped short and stared at his friend.

"I know what I'm going to do!" he declared.

"What?"

"I'm a-goin' to see Mark."

"I thought they wouldn't let you in," laughed Dewey.

"I'm a-goin' all the same," vowed the other. "Ef they won't let me I'll make 'em. Jes' you watch me!"

And with that the impulsive Texan faced about and set out for the hospital in a hurry.

CHAPTER XXVI.

TEXAS HAS AN INTERVIEW.

Texas' promised "fun" in the effort to see Mark did not, as it proved, materialize; because, whereas Texas had expected to be refused admittance and to raise a rumpus about it, he was allowed to enter and was escorted to Mark's room with all politeness.

"Well!" thought Texas, "I reckon he must be gittin' better."

This eventually proved to be the case; and Texas shrewdly guessed the reason for it as he approached the room and heard the sound of voices through the open door.

"With her to talk to," he muttered, "anybody could get well."

Grace Fuller was sitting by the window, dressed in white, an angel of loveliness, as she appeared to Powers. She was reading aloud to Mark, but she stopped suddenly as Texas burst into the room. And a moment later the newcomer had seized his chum by his one well arm and was shaking it vigorously.

"h.e.l.lo, ole man!" he cried. "I kain't tell you how glad I am to see you."

"Take it easy," said Mark, smiling. "I've got better news still. They found that my shoulder was only dislocated; and I'll be out to-day."

Texas uttered a whoop that brought the attendants in on a run. He subsided after a threat of expulsion and sat down by the bedside and stared at Mark. It was still the same old Mark, handsome and st.u.r.dy, but just a little pale.

"Say," growled Texas, "you've got no idee how lonely things are 'thout you. There's n.o.body to lick the cadets, or anything."

"What's all the fuss I hear?" inquired Mark.

Texas explained to him what was happening; and went into ecstasies when he was told that Mark would be out to see that afternoon's drill. With just the same startling impulsiveness as that which had led him to pay his brief visit, Texas sprang up again and made for the door.

"Wow!" he cried. "I'm a-goin' out to tell the fellers 'bout this. Whoop!

See you later, Mark. I reckon you're in pretty good company."

Mark "reckoned" so too, and said so, as he laughed over his friend's hot-headed manner.

Texas in the meantime was bounding down the hall and out of the door of the building; he meant to turn up toward camp on a run, and he had even started up the street. But something happened just then that made him change his mind in a hurry. In the first place he heard some one call his name:

"Mr. Powers! Oh, Mr. Powers!"

It was a sweet girlish voice, and "Mr. Powers" faced about with alacrity, to find himself, to his infinite surprise, face to face with Mary Adams, the girl he had not long ago been discussing.

"h.e.l.lo!" thought he, "what on earth's up?"

His surprise was the greater because he did not know the girl; he had never been introduced to her, and he wondered how she even knew his name. She was indeed a beautiful girl, with a full round figure, deep black hair and eyes, and a complexion that was warm and red. There was a look of anxiety upon her face that the cadet did not fail to notice.

"Tell me!" she cried. "Mr. Powers, how is he?"

"Why--why----" stammered Texas, adding, "Bless my soul!" after the fas.h.i.+on of his fat friend Indian. "He's all right. He'll be out this afternoon."

"I thought he was nearly killed," said the girl. "I have been so worried."

There was a brief silence after that, during which Texas s.h.i.+fted his feet in embarra.s.sment.