Captain Jinks, Hero, Ernest Howard Crosby [free e books to read TXT] 📗

night, I saw somebody taking photographs of it. Do you think I could get copies of them?”

“What do you want them for?” asked Smith suspiciously.

“I’d like to have something to remember it by,” said Sam. “I want to be able to show that I did just what Generals Gramp and German did.”

Smith smiled. “All right,” he replied. “I’ll get them for you if I can, and I’ll expect you to work all the better for me. Now go.”

“Oh, thank you, sir⁠—thank you!” cried Sam; and he went.

That night he and Cleary talked over the situation in whispers as they lay in their bunks.

“I don’t like this business at all,” said Cleary. “I didn’t come to East Point to black boots and make beds. It’s a fraud, that’s what it is.”

“Please don’t say that,” said Sam. “They’ve always done it, haven’t they?”

“I suppose so.”

“Then it must be right. Do you think General Meriden would have done it if it had been wrong? We must learn obedience, mustn’t we? That’s a soldier’s first duty. We must obey, and how could we learn to obey better than by being regular servants?”

“And how about obeying the rules of the post that forbid the whole business, hazing and all?” asked Cleary.

Sam was nonplussed for a moment.

“I’m not a good hand at logic,” he said. “Perhaps you can argue me down, but I feel that it’s all right. I wouldn’t miss this special duty business for anything. It will make me a better soldier and officer.”

“Sam,” said Cleary, who had now got intimate enough with him to use his Christian name⁠—“Sam, you were just built for this place, but I’ll be hanged if I was.”

The summer hastened on to its close, and the first- and third-class men had a continual round of social joys. The hotel on the post was full of pretty girls who doted on uniforms, and there were hops, and balls, and flirtations galore. The “beasts” of the fourth class were shut out from this paradise, but they could not help seeing it, and Sam used his eyes with the rest of them. He had never before seen even at a distance such elegance and luxury. The young women especially, in their gay summer gowns, drew his attention away sometimes even from military affairs. There was a weak spot in his makeup of which he had never before been aware. There was one young woman in particular who caught his eye, a vision of dark hair and black eyes which lived on in his imagination when it had vanished from his external sight. Sam actually fancied that the young woman looked at him with approving eyes, and he was emboldened to look back. It was impossible for social intercourse between a young lady in society and a fourth-class “beast” to go further than this, and at this point their relations stood, but Sam was sure that the maiden liked his looks. It so happened that her most devoted admirer was none other than Cadet Saunders, who was continually hovering about her. Sam was devoured with jealousy. In his low estate he was even unable to find out her name for a long time. He could not speak to upper-class men, and his classmates knew nothing of the gay world above them. However, he discovered at last that she was a Miss Hunter from the West. His informant was a waiter at the hotel whom he waylaid on his way out one night, for cadets were forbidden to enter the hotel.

“I suppose she has her father and mother with her?” Sam suggested.

“Oh, no, sir. She’s all alone. She’s been here all alone every summer this six years.”

“That’s strange,” said Sam. “Hasn’t she a protector?”

“Oh, yes! she has protectors enough. You see, she’s always engaged.”

“Engaged!” exclaimed the unhappy youth. “How long has she been engaged, and to whom?”

“Why, this time she’s only been engaged two weeks,” said the waiter, “and it’s Cadet Saunders she’s engaged to; but don’t worry, sir, it’s an old story. She’s been engaged to a different man every summer for six years, and at first she generally had two men a summer. She began with officers of the first class, two in a year; then she fell off to one in a season; then she dropped to third class; and now she has Mr. Saunders because his nose isn’t just right, sir, if I may say so.”

Sam hardly knew what to think. The news of her engagement had plunged him into despair, but the information that engagement was with her a temporary matter was decidedly welcome; and even if it were couched in language that could hardly be called flattering, still he was glad to hear it. Sam thanked the waiter and gave him a silver coin which he could ill spare from his pay, but he was satisfied that he had got his money’s worth.

Sam ruminated deep and long over this hard-wrung gossip. He could not believe that the object of his dreams was no longer in her first girlhood. There was some mistake. Then it was absurd to suppose that she was reduced to the acceptance of inferior third-class men. How could a waiter understand the charms of Saunders’ historical nose? Evidently she had selected him from the whole corps on account of his exploits as an object of hazing. Sam almost wished that Saunders’ nose was a blemish, for it would help his chances, but candor obliged him to admit that it was, on the contrary, one of his rival’s strong points, and he sighed once again to think that he bore no marks on his own person of the hazing ordeal. All that Sam could do now was to wait. He recognized the fact that no girl with self-respect would speak to a “beast,” and he determined to be patient until in another twelvemonth he should have become a full-fledged third-class man himself. The other engagements had proved ephemeral, why not that with Saunders? Fortunately this new sentiment