"My Dear Fischer: I promised to drop you a line just to let you know how I'm getting along, though it does take a tremendous pile of energy to write a letter on a hot afternoon like this. I'm sure I shall go to sleep in the middle of it, and naturally, too, for even writing to you is enough to bore anybody. I can almost imagine you leaning over to whack at me in return for that compliment.
"Well, I am home on furlough; and I don't know whether I wish I were back or not, for I fear that you will have cut me out on all the girls, especially since you are a high and mighty first captain this year. Speaking of girls, you just ought to be here. The girls at West Point are blasé on cadets, for they see so many; but here a West Point officer is cock of the walk, and I have to fight a jealous rival once a week."
Cadet Captain Fischer dropped the letter at this stage of it and lay back and laughed.
"Wicks Merritt's evidently forgotten I was on furlough once myself," he said. "He's telling me all about how it goes."
"What's he got to say?" inquired Williams, the[Pg 194] speaker's tentmate, looking up from the gun he was cleaning.
"Oh, nothing much; only a lot of nonsense—jollying as usual. Wicks always is."
And then Fischer picked up the letter again, and went on.
The two were seated near the door of a tent in "Company A Street," at Camp McPherson. Fischer was lying in front of the tent "door," which was open to admit the morning breeze that swept across the parade ground. His friend sat over in an opposite corner and rubbed away.
There was silence of some minutes, broken only by the sound of the polishing and the rustling of Fischer's paper. And then the latter spoke again.
"Oh, say!" said he. "Here's something that'll interest you, Billy. Something about your friend Mallory."
"Fire away," said Williams.
"'By the way, when you answer this let me know something about my pet and protégé, future football captain of the West Point eleven. The last time I heard from where you are, Mark Mallory was raising Cain. I heard that he was a B. J. plebe for fair; that he'd set to work to make war on the yearlings, and had put them[Pg 195] to rout in style; also, incidentally, that he was scheduled to fight Billy Williams, the yearling's pet athlete. Tell Billy I hope the plebe does him; tell him I say that if Mallory once whacks him on the head with that right arm of his he'll see more stars from the lick than the Lick telescope can show——'"
"Billy" broke in just then with a dismal groan.
"I don't know whether that's because of the pun," laughed Fischer, "or because of your recollection of the blow. However, I'll proceed.
"'Now, I don't care how much you fellows haze my Mallory; he's tough and he can stand it. He'll probably give you tit for tat every time, anyhow. But I do want to say this—watch out that nobody tries any foul play on him, skins him on demerits or reports him unfairly. Do me a favor and keep your eye out for that. Watch particularly Bull Harris, who is, I think, the meanest sneak in the yearling class, and also his chum, Gus Murray.
"'I know it for a fact that Mallory caught Bull in a very dirty act about a month ago and knocked spots out of him for it. I can't tell you what the act was; but Bull has sworn vengeance and he'll probably try to get it, so watch for me. If you let Mallory get into trouble, mind what I say, I'll never forgive you as long as you live. I'll cut you out with Bessie Smith, who, they say, is your fair one at present. Mallory is a treasure, and when you know him as well as I you'll think so, too.'"
Cadet Captain Fischer dropped the letter, sat up, and[Pg 196] stared at Williams; and Williams stared back. There was disgust on the faces of both.
"By George!" cried the latter at last, striking his gunstock in the ground. "By George! we've let 'em do it already!"
And after that there was a silence of several unpleasant minutes, during which each was diligently thinking over the situation.
"He's a fine fellow, anyway," continued Williams. "And we were a pack of fools to let that Bull Harris gang soak him as we did. They've gone to work and given him ninety-five demerits in a week on trumped-up charges. And it's perfectly outrageous, that's what it is! The plebe's confoundedly fresh, of course, but he's a gentleman for all that, and he don't deserve one-quarter of the demerits he's gotten. The decent fellows in the class ought to be ashamed of themselves."
"That's what I say! He only has to get five demerits more and then he's fired for good."
"Which means," put in the officer, "that's he's sure to be fired by next week."
"Exactly! And then what will Wicks say? I went over to barracks to see Mallory about it yesterday;[Pg 197] he's nearly heart-broken, for he's worked like a horse to get here, and now he's ruined—practically expelled. Yet, what can we do?"
"Can't he hand in explanations and get the demerits excused?" suggested Fischer.
"No, because most of the charges had just enough basis of truth in them to make them justifiable. I tell you I was mad when he told me about it; I vowed I'd do something to stop it. Yet what on earth can I do? I can't think of a thing except to lick that fellow Bull Harris and his crowd. But what possible good will that do Mallory?"
"Mallory will probably do that himself," remarked Fischer, smiling for a moment; his face became serious again as he continued. "I begin to agree with you, Billy, about that thing. I've heard several tales about how Mallory outwitted Bull in his hazing adventures, and the plebe's probably made him mad. It's a dirty revenge Bull has taken, and I think if it's only for Wicks' sake I'll put a stop to it."
"You!" echoed Williams. "Pray, how?"
"What am I a first captain for?" laughed Fischer. "Just you watch me and see what I do! I can't take[Pg 198] off the ninety-five, but I can see that he don't get the other............