"Drunk! Drunk! For Heaven's sake what do you mean?"

Mark had been sitting in the door of a tent in "A" company street, vigorously polishing a musket. At the moment he had dropped the gun and the cleaning kit to the ground and was gazing in amazement at Indian, who had halted, breathless, in front of him.

"Drunk!" the first speaker repeated. "Texas drunk! What on earth are you talking about?"

The other was so red in the face and out of breath from what had evidently been a long run that he could scarcely manage to answer. His eyes were staring, and his face a picture of excitement and alarm.

"Bless my soul!" he gasped. "I tell you—I saw him! He's wild!"

"What do you mean? Where is he?"

"He—he's got a horse! He's ridden off! Oh—bless my soul—he's killing everybody!"

Mark sprang to his feet in excitement. At the same moment another head appeared in the opening, preceded[Pg 81] by a hasty "What's that?" It was Parson Stanard, and his learned classical face was a picture of amazement.

"Texas drunk!" he echoed. "Where did he get anything to drink?"

"I don't know!" gasped Indian. "Bless my soul—I only saw him one moment; he dashed down the road. Oh! And had a horse, and his guns—Lord, I was scared nearly to death."

"Which way did he go?" inquired Mark, quickly, a sudden resolution taking possession of his mind.

"Down toward Highland Falls," answered the other.

And before he could say another word, Mark had seized his hat, sprang out of the tent, and bounded away down the company street to the great amazement of the cadets who chanced to see him.

"Texas'll be expelled! Expelled!" he muttered. "And then what on earth will I do?"

The time was morning. The plebe class had just been dismissed a short while ago from an hour of drill, and most of them were over by the cavalry plain, watching the preparations of the rest of the corps for "light artillery drill," which was the programme of the morning.

Scarcely half an hour ago Mark had left Texas and now he was drunk! And he was drunk after the fashion of the cowboys, reckless of everything, shooting and yelling, ready to raid a town if need be. Where he had[Pg 82] gotten his whiskey, or his horse, what on earth had led him to such an extraordinary proceeding, were questions that Mark could not solve; but he knew that his friend was in imminent danger, that expulsion stared him in the face. And that was all Mark needed to know.

He did not notice that the plain on his right was crowded with spectators of the drill, and that those same spectators were staring at him curiously as he dashed past. He had eyes for but one thing, and that was a building to one side, down the hill toward the shore of the Hudson. He did not stop for paths; he plunged down the bank, and finally wound up breathless in front of the cavalry stables.

Most of the men were off to one side, at that moment engaged in harnessing the horses for the drill on the plain above. But one was left, and he sat in the doorway, calmly smoking his pipe, and gazing curiously at the figure before him.

"What d'ye want?" he demanded.

"A horse!" gasped Mark.

"Plebe?" inquired the other, with exasperating slowness.

"Yes."

"Where's yer permit?"

"Haven't got any."

"Don't get no horse then!"

[Pg 83]Mark gazed at the man in consternation—he hadn't thought of that difficulty. Then a sudden idea occurred to him, and he thrust his hand into the watch pocket of his uniform. There was money there, money which as a cadet Mark had no business to have. But he thanked his stars for it all the same. There was a five-dollar bill, and he handed it to the man.

"For Heaven's sake," he panted, "give me a horse! Quick! Don't lose a moment! I'll see you don't get blamed—say I took it away from you if you want to."

The man fingered the bill for a few moments, lost in thought.

"It'd take more'n you to take a horse away from me," he said at last. "But since you're in such a hurry——"

He stepped inside the building, and a moment later reappeared, leading one of the government cavalry horses.

"Saddle?" he inquired.

By way of answer Mark sprang at the animal's head, and in one bound was on his back.

"Get up!" he cried, digging his heels into the horse's side. "Get up!" and a moment later was dashing down the road as if he had been shot from a catapult.

"Terrible hurry that!" muttered the stableman, shaking his head, as he turned away. "Terrible hurry! Something wrong 'bout that 'ere."

There was; and Mark thought so, too, as he galloped[Pg 84] down the road. He feared there would be much more wrong in a very short while. In half an hour or so the plebe class, his class, would be called to quarters once more for drill, and if he and Texas were not on hand then, there would be trouble, indeed. If they were, there was prospect of no less excitement. From what Mark knew of his hot-tempered and excitable comrade when sober, he could form a vague idea of what a terror he might be when he was mad with drink; and being thus he would not be apt to behave as the meek and gentle thing a plebe is supposed to be. Mark had had great trouble in keeping Texas quiet, even under ordinary circumstances.

Mark, it may be mentioned, had met this wild and uncivilized lad down at the hotel at Highland Falls, some weeks before either of them had been admitted to the academy. Texas had then with recklessness helped Mark in outwitting some hazers among the candidates. Mark had been drawn to the other by his frank and open nature, by their mutual love of fun and adventure, and by a certain respect each felt for the other's prowess. The story of the heroic efforts by which Mark had earned his cadetship was known to Texas, as indeed it was to every one on the post.

The two had come up to the Point together, and passed their examinations; and they had been fast friends ever[Pg 85] since. Mark had backed Texas in a battle in which Texas had "licked" no less than four of the yearlings. Texas had been Mark's second in a fight with the picked champion of the same class. And since then the two had set out together on a crusade against hazing which had turned West Point customs topsy-turvy and made the yearlings fairly wild with desperation.

Through all this the two had fought side by side, and were stanch friends. And now! The Texan's wild passions had led him to an ac............