Uncle Sam's Boys as Lieutenants: or, Serving Old Glory as Line Officers
The woman was red-faced, despite the liberal amount of powder with which she had striven to conceal the fact. She was richly dressed, and wore a few jewels, though not really enough of them to violate good taste. Hal recognized her as a Mrs. Redding, who, thanks largely to her husband's inherited wealth, had succeeded in making herself one of the leaders of local society. Mr. Redding was known principally as "Mrs. Redding's husband."
"Just a moment, my dear Mrs. Overton," cried Mrs. Redding cordially. "And you, too, my dear Mrs. Terry! I am pausing only a moment to congratulate you on the splendid news. I can well imagine how proud you are of your sons. And I must congratulate these two very distinguished sons, also."
Hal and Noll had risen promptly, though gravely and without haste. They bowed their acknowledgment of the congratulations.
"And how long are you going to be with us?" asked Mrs. Redding, allowing her gaze to wander from the face of one young officer to the other's.
"We don't know, madam," Hal replied courteously. "We are still in ignorance as to our orders."
"I shall hope to see much of you both, and of your families," Mrs. Redding beamed graciously. "To-morrow afternoon Mr. Redding and I, with some of our friends, are going to motor down the river in our new cruising boat, dining at the club-house. We should be delighted if you would accompany us. You won't disappoint us, will you?"
Hal glanced at his mother, who offered no reply, but glanced back at her son.
"We are very grateful for your invitation, Mrs. Redding," Lieutenant Hal continued. "Terry and I feel that we are not in the least certain about being able to keep any engagements that we might make, since we are both awaiting orders from the War Department. Besides all my engagements are in the charge and keeping of my mother."
"Then you will accept for yourself and friends, won't you, my dear Mrs. Overton?" asked Mrs. Redding, again turning to Hal's mother.
"I – I am very much afraid that we can't go to-morrow afternoon," replied Mrs. Overton slowly.
"Oh, well, then, we will make a later appointment," smiled Mrs. Redding affably. "There will be plenty of time, I am sure. So glad to have seen you this evening."
Still smiling, Mrs. Redding swept on through the restaurant with Mr. Redding in her wake. Somehow, one instinctively felt sorry for Mr. Redding; he looked very much like a small boat towing astern of a larger craft.
"I am wondering very much," smiled Hal's mother. "Although we have gone to the same church for the last fifteen years, Mrs. Redding has never before seemed to know who I am. She is suddenly very cordial."
"That is because you now have a son who is an officer in the Army," interposed Noll's father. "An Army officer is supposed to be a man of some social consequence."
"But that doesn't give me any more social consequence. I'm just the same woman that I always was," objected Mrs. Overton sensibly.
"But at least, my dear," suggested Hal's father, "you will be visiting your son at his post one of these days, and he may also urge you to bring some of your women friends."
"I certainly shall," Hal agreed.
"And Mrs. Redding may feel that she would like to be one of the invited," continued the elder Overton. "So, my dear, you see that you will become of social consequence. Others than Mrs. Redding, who have never even bowed to you before, will now be calling on you."
"I don't want new friends of that sort," remarked Hal's mother quietly.
"My dear, you'll have to be very agile if you expect to dodge all such new friends," laughed Hal's father.
Since Hal had given the order the orchestra had played several numbers. All of the little dining party were now becoming rather impatient for dinner.
"I guess our waiter doesn't like us very well," half-grumbled Lieutenant Hal.
"Very likely," nodded his father. "Of course you recognized the waiter."
"I can't say, sir, that I did."
"The waiter is Bunny Hepburn, more than three years older than when you last saw him," replied Mr. Overton.
"Bunny Hepburn? The son of that anarchist who spouts about man's rights in beer-gardens?" questioned Hal. "Hepburn the man who is always trying to start strikes and labor riots?"
"That's the man, and Bunny is a half-worthy son of the sire, I hear," replied Mr. Overton.
"Here comes Bunny now," announced Mr. Terry.
Bunny appeared, setting bread and butter on the table, distributing knives, forks and spoons at the places and filling the water glasses.
"Will you bring the first course of our dinner right along now, waiter?" Hal asked pleasantly.
"When I can," came the half surly reply. "You'll have to wait your turn with the other customers."
"We expect to do that," Hal agreed, without resentment. "But we've been waiting about forty minutes now, and many others have been served who came in since we did."
"You needn't think you're running this restaurant," sneered the waiter.
"By no means," Hal agreed. "But we are at least paying for our food, for attendance and civility."
"You'll get all the attendance you're entitled to," grumbled the waiter. "Don't think you own the earth. Soldiers are no good."
"A lot of people entertain that opinion," Hal answered quietly, turning his back on the impudent waiter.
All might still have gone well, had Bunny been content to drop it there. But, as readers of the first volume in this series, "Uncle Sam's Boys in the Ranks," are aware, Bunny had been bred in contempt of the military and of everything connected with it.
"You soldiers are nothing but just a lot of cheap skates," Bunny muttered on bitterly. "You wear a uniform that is nothing but the cheap livery of slavery to the wealthy, and march under a flag that stands for nothing but tyranny to the poor and down-trodden of humanity."
This was almost word for word a copy from the anarchistic speeches of Bunny's father.
Lieutenant Hal's face went white as he wheeled once more in his chair and rose quickly.
Mrs. Overton had a momentary notion that her son was going to knock Bunny down, and she wouldn't have blamed him if he had. But Bunny quailed somewhat before the blazing light in the young Army officer's eyes.
"Stand back, waiter," ordered Hal quietly. Then, looking very tall and dignified, Lieutenant Hal stepped across the restaurant, going over to the desk, where the proprietor stood chatting with the cashier.
"Are you being properly served?" inquired Mr. Ralston, who had learned who this young guest was.
"Not especially. I have no personal complaint to make against the waiter, but I shall feel greatly obliged if you can send us a different man to wait on us."
"With pleasure," replied Mr. Ralston promptly. "But you will be doing me a genuine service, Mr. Overton, if you will tell me in what way the present waiter has offended you."
"He didn't offend me personally," Hal replied quietly, "but he spoke disrespectfully of the Flag I serve, and the uniform I am proud to wear."
"Thank you very much. Will you tell me what the waiter said?"
Hal repeated the words accurately.
"I will send you another waiter, Mr. Overton, and will see to it personally that you are not again annoyed. I thank you for having reported the matter to me."
Hal returned to his seat. Bunny had already vanished behind the swinging doors at the rear. Mr. Ralston followed him out into the cook's domain.
"Peterson, I want you to wait on Mr. Overton's party," called Mr. Ralston, whereat Bunny started slightly. "And, Peterson, I want you to serve and attend to their wants in your best style."
"Yes, sir," replied Peterson, an older waiter.
"Chef," continued the proprietor, "you will see to it that the delayed dinner for the Overton party is served ahead of anything else, and in your best style. Hepburn, come here!"
Bunny approached, a defiant scowl on his sulky face.
"Hepburn, I am told that you grossly insulted the Flag and the Army uniform."
"I didn't," retorted Bunny, "but I won't allow any of them tin-soldier dudes to put it over me."
"Your present language sufficiently justifies the charge made against you," replied Mr. Ralston quietly. "This restaurant is intended as a resort for ladies and gentlemen, and all right-minded persons respect our Army and Navy and those who serve their country."
"I'll tell you, right now, I hain't got any respect for them tin-soldiers," retorted Bunny defiantly.
"That will be all, Hepburn. Get out of here!"
With that the proprietor turned on his heel, leaving the cook's domain. Bunny was white with wrath. He tried to talk to some of the other employes present, but none of them paid any attention to him.
No effort did young Hepburn make to get his street clothes until the head waiter brought him back an envelope containing his wages.
"I'll remain here until I see you get out," remarked the head waiter coldly.
"You may wait a long time," sneered Bunny.
"No, I won't. If you're not out of here in a hurry I'll help you through the back door."
Not until then did Bunny Hepburn realize that he was actually discharged.
"Get out now," ordered the head waiter, looking as if he would be glad of an opportunity to help the discharged one through the back door.
"Oh, all right. I'll git," snarled Bunny Hepburn, thrusting on his hat and slouching out through the door. "But I'll get even with that cheap Army officer in short order!"
Like some other inconsequential fellows of his class, Bunny was usually a man of his word in matters of revenge.
CHAPTER III
ROWDY VERSUS REGULAR
AFTER a pleasant evening Hal and Noll escorted their parents homeward at somewhere around half-past ten o'clock.
Both young soldiers, however, were still so full of the day's news and so wide awake that neither felt at all like turning in for sleep as yet. So they met immediately afterward for a slow stroll through the streets on this warm summer evening.
"Where shall we go?" asked Hal, as the chums met.
"I don't care," Noll answered. "One set of streets will do as well as another."
"We'll take pains, anyway, to keep on the well-lighted streets," Hal proposed smilingly. "It wouldn't do for two poor, lonely soldiers to go into any of the darker quarters where danger may lurk."
"Tell you what we'll do then," offered Noll.
"We'll get a policeman to walk around with us and protect us from harm."
"Now let us have done with fooling for a little while, Noll. I remember something that Prescott was telling me once."
"Lieutenant Prescott," Terry interrupted quietly.
"Guess again, chum. You forget that we have been lieutenants since – well, since four o'clock this afternoon. So I am within my rights in simply calling him by his last name."
"True," admitted Noll. "I've been in the ranks so long that, somehow, it seems hard to realize that I am suddenly an officer, and the equal of any other second lieutenant in the Army."
"Prescott was telling me," went on Hal, "of a great friend he and Holmes had at West Point. He was a young Virginian, Anstey by name. Now Prescott and Holmes both feel as though they'd gladly give their left hands for a chance to grip Anstey's paw; yet since leaving West Point Prescott and Holmes have not laid eyes on Anstey – which brings me up to the question: How are we going to feel if you and I are constantly serving on different sides of the earth from each other?"
Lieutenant Noll Terry looked almost startled.
"By Jove, I hadn't thought of that," he muttered.
"I've been thinking of it," Hal rejoined. "Now, Noll, what is the matter with you and me drawing up a request, both signing it, asking that, if in accordance with military interests, we be assigned to the same regiment and battalion?"
"To whom should such a request go?"
"To the adjutant general of the Army, I imagine, since neither of us as yet belongs to any regiment or department."
"Won't the adjutant general put us down as the two original, very cheeky shave-tails?" wondered Noll.
"That's a chance we'll have to take. Though if we make what seems a perfectly proper request, and in a wholly respectful manner, I don't see how the adjutant general can find fault with two inexperienced young officers, even if our request be a rather unusual one."
"If you get up the paper I'll sign it with you," agreed Noll, without a moment's further hesitation.
"I'll prepare that paper the first thing in the morning," promised Hal. "Whew, but I wish we had even an inkling of what our first duty is to be."
"Anywhere in 'God's country'" (in Army parlance, 'God's country' means the United States), replied Noll. "I don't want to see the Philippines again inside of a year."
For longer than they realized the two chums strolled the streets, now grown very quiet as the hour was late for a small city. Indeed, the two new lieutenants paid little heed to their course. So, after a while, they reached the rougher parts of the town.
Bunny Hepburn, having gone away from the restaurant with his heart full of hate, had fallen in with a group of companions of his own sort. These young men had visited beer-gardens and other places of low repute. Bunny's companions were the human fruits of his father's peculiar teachings. For the most part these young fellows were "professional labor men" of the lowest type. None of them ever worked long or steadily at anything, except with their tongues. They were a gross libel on the real workingmen of the country – the steady, sober, industrious toilers who are the real backbone of the country.
Bunny's companions, instead, were of a sort who hang upon the words of such speakers and agitators as the elder Hepburn. While disliking industrial work, and resorting to it only when there was no other choice as against starvation, these young fellows were always on hand in times of strike or riot, ready for any violence and seldom hesitating at extortion or pillage when the chance presented itself.
"I tell you, fellows," Bunny proclaimed hoarsely, "I'm going to get square with that tin-soldier dude, Overton. I hear he's been made an officer in the Army to-day. He feels bigger than all outdoors! He made a kick that cost me the best job I ever had."
"Imagine Bunny working!" jeered one of the crowd.
"That was the beauty of the job," snarled Bunny. "It wasn't real work. It was more like belonging to a club. I had to stand around a little, and pass things, and so forth. But I got fifteen a month, my meals, and three or four dollars a day in tips."
"I don't blame you, then, for being sore at losing the job," remarked another young "labor" man of Bunny's own stripe. "That kind of job was a good deal like easy graft."
"That's just what it was," rejoined Bunny feelingly. "And I lost it all on account of that —Say, fellows!"
This last appeal Bunny whispered hoarsely. Then he pointed ahead down the street.
"Here comes that soldier-loafer, Overton, now. And his friend with him."
"Now's your chance to take it out, Bunny!" prodded one of the gang.
"Fellows," declared Bunny earnestly, "it's the chance for all of us to take it out of that pair! Think how often the regulars have fired into honest, hard-working men!"
By that designation Bunny referred to rioters.
"There's two of them, and they hain't got no guns or bayonets this time," Bunny Hepburn continued hoarsely. "How many are there of us?"
"Twelve," replied another, "not counting Skinny Carroll."
"Skinny can work at his old game of lookout," muttered Bunny. "Get busy, Skinny."
Skinny was an undersized, weazened little fellow, with a large, badly-shaped head and an extremely bright pair of keen, fox-like eyes. Many a time had he been lookout against the coming of the police, while stronger, harder-handed companions carried out some piece of violence against law and order.
With a chuckle Skinny promptly turned and fled to the next corner, where he could watch four ways at once.
Bunny's companions found themselves committed to a new deed before they quite realized it.
"My pop has often told you fellows all about the soldiers," went on Bunny quickly. "Now, we've got a chance to settle one score for labor. We'll sail into that pair like a ton of brick. Use 'em up! Don't be gentle, or turn faint-hearted! Remember, there's enough of us to swear to a good 'frame-up' if this thing gets into court. Don't be chicken-hearted or white-livered! Line up, the bunch of you!"
Hal and Noll, as they strolled along the side street, saw the little group ahead. It was an unimportant street, devoted to business in the day-time. Neither of the Army boys distinguished Bunny, who kept himself well concealed behind the other idlers until Hal and Noll had reached the gang. Then Bunny threw himself forward.
"Yah! yah!" he snarled. "Get me thrown out of me job, will you, you soldier-loafer!"
"Hullo, it's Bunny!" cried Hal, recognizing the speaker.
"Yep! It's me – Bunny Hepburn!" jeered the ex-waiter. "But you won't know what your name is when I get through with you!"
"Bosh!" rejoined Hal, rather impatiently. "Step aside. Don't block the sidewalk. It's broad enough for us all!"
"You don't sneak out of it that easy!" jeered Bunny.
"Behave yourself, and let me by," requested Hal Overton sternly.
He tried to push the noisy fellow out of his path. Bunny, with the strength of the gang behind him, swung a hard blow at the Army boy's face.
In self-defense Hal Overton was obliged to fend off the blow. But Bunny came back at him again.
"Sail into the soldier-loafers!" called Bunny.
Wolf-like, the gang attacked in a pack, and on all sides at once. It didn't take Noll Terry an instant to see that this was serious business. Without a word Noll sprang back to back with Hal, and thus they met the onslaught.
In the crowd there were some hard-hitters, and the odds were tremendous.
On the other hand, Hal and Noll were no mean boxers. They had gained their skill with their fists in many a brisk garrison bout with the gloves. Moreover, both Army boys possessed the advantage of soldierly courage and discipline.
So, for a few moments, though they took some blows, yet they managed to keep off the wolf-pack fairly well.
Hal Overton's blood was up now, and he was dangerous. Watching his chance he let fly a blow that caught Bunny forcefully on the nose.
"Wow-ow-ow! O-o-oh!" wailed Bunny, trying to find shelter behind one of his companions. "The soldier-loafer is trying to kill me. Wade into him, fellers! Get him down and – "
At that moment Hal, with Noll at his back, worked through the line and caught Bunny over his left eye with a force that sent the noisy one down to the sidewalk.
"Get up, you cur!" ordered Hal.
For a moment the members of the gang on Overton's side of the fight seemed paralyzed.
Gripping Bunny Hepburn by the collar, Hal dragged the fellow to his feet and instantly planted a blow that closed the other eye.
"Now, you'll stay put," panted Hal breathlessly. "Come on, the rest of you hyenas, and we'll walk through the whole crowd of you!"
With a yell of defiance the gang closed in. While the mix-up was at its hottest, a low, trilling whistle sounded from Skinny Carroll's lips. Only two of the gang heard it in the excitement; that pair took to their heels at once.
Down the street came a pair of flying feet.
"Cop! cop!" yelled Skinny Carroll. "Duck and run!"
Three more of the gang heard and took to their heels at once. One of the fugitives ran squarely into the policeman's arms. The blue-coat stopped another by drawing his revolver and commanding a halt. When the policeman came along with his two prisoners Noll had a third to add to the collection. Hal had Bunny and another of the late fighting crew.
"What's this trouble about?" demanded the policeman gruffly.
"It's an outrage, and high time you got here," wailed Bunny. "Officer, just look at me!"
"You seem to look just right to me," grinned the policeman.
"Officer, I demand that you arrest these two fellows!" insisted Bunny, in a shaking voice. "They'd have killed me if you hadn't got here just when you did."
"Hold your tongue," commanded the policeman. Then, turning to Hal, he asked:
"What's the rights of this affair?"
"Don't you listen to what they say!" screamed Bunny. "They'll lie like a house afire. I was going along, minding my own business, when this pair jumped on me. You see what they did to me."
"Officer, what's the meaning of this?" demanded a man who had just come on the scene. It was Bunny's father, the agitator and anarchistic lecturer.
"If you'll keep quiet long enough I'll soon find out," retorted the policeman.
"Officer," demanded the elder Hepburn, "do you know who I am?"
"Yes; that's why I want you to keep quiet," retorted the policeman, with no great show of awe or respect.
"But – "
"Get back and keep quiet until I've had time to look into this thing!" blazed the policeman ominously.
"Minion of the hireling law," began the elder Hepburn, running his fingers through his hair and striking an attitude.
"Hepburn, in the name of the Commonwealth, I demand your assistance in taking care of the prisoners," retorted the policeman grimly. "Disobey at your peril. Here, take charge of this prisoner," indicating Bunny. "If you let him escape you'll go to jail for it!"
Thus summoned in the name of the Commonwealth the elder Hepburn, though he loathed his task, had to play the part of a police officer or take the consequences. Hepburn, like his son, was noisy but not brave; he had no desire to serve his state in jail, so he served it on the street.
However, the arresting party and prisoners had gone only as far as the next corner when they encountered Chief of Police Blake, an official who was not afraid of any one or anything.
"What's this?" asked the chief.
Hal and Noll were asked to explain the affair, while the two Hepburns and Bunny's companions were forced, much against their will, to keep still.
"We don't care about pressing any charge, chief," Hal added. "This crowd got punished enough as it was."
"One of them certainly did," grinned Chief Blake, taking in the extent of damage done to Bunny's countenance.
"Chief, I insist that you arrest these two soldier-loafers!" cried Bunny hoarsely.
"And I back up that demand!" added the elder Hepburn, with what he considered impressive dignity.
"Bosh!" retorted Chief Blake. "I'd take the word of these two Army officers against a whole slumful of rowdies like these young fellows. And so would any judge in his right mind. I refuse to arrest either of these young Army officers, for I'm convinced that they acted only in their own defense."
"Officer," broke in the elder Hepburn dramatically, "you have no right to take the word of hireling soldiers against honest young working – "
"Go on! Chase yourselves! A quick vanish or a long night behind the hard iron bars!" cried Chief Blake, dropping into the language that Bunny and his companions could best understand. "Another piece of jaw, and to the green-lighted doorway you all go!"
Then, nodding to Hal and Noll to stroll along with him, Chief Blake left the discomfited trouble-makers.
"Another proof that the law exists only for the benefit of the favored few!" hissed Bunny's father. "But this latest outrage shall not go unnoticed. There are ways of getting justice, even under such a miserable government as ours, and we shall have recourse to those ways. Come with me, gentlemen, and I shall show you what can be done!"
There are always ways of making trouble when one is bound to do it. Moreover, Mr. Hepburn was an expert at trouble-making, and on this night he worked overtime.
There was trouble ahead, as the two Army boys discovered on awakening in the morning.
CHAPTER IV
A COURT OF INQUIRY ORDERED
THERE were two morning newspapers published in the town; or, as some people put it, "one and a quarter."
The Tribune appealed to the more orderly element in the community. In the Tribune was an account of the police version of the night before, to the effect that Bunny Hepburn and a gang had set upon Lieutenants Overton and Terry, of the Regular Army, and that the two young officers had given an excellent account of themselves in the encounter, afterwards declining to prosecute the gangsters.