CHAPTER XI.
DISADVANTAGES OF "COVENTRY."
"Sir, the parade is formed!"
Thus spoke the cadet adjutant as he approached the lieutenant incommand, and a moment later, at the word, the battalion swung around andmarched across the campus. It was the evening dress parade of perhapsthe best drilled body of troops in the country, and West Point was outin holiday attire to see it.
Seated on the benches beneath the trees on the western edge of theparade ground was a crowd of spectators--visitors at the post and nearlythe whole plebe class besides. For this was Saturday afternoon holiday,and the "beasts" had turned out in a body to witness the performance ofwhat they were all hoping some day to be.
It was a "mighty fine" performance, and one that made those same beastsopen their eyes with amazement. Spotless and glittering in theiruniforms were the cadets, and they went through all manner of difficultevolutions in perfect unison, marching with lines as straight and evenas the eye could wish. It is a pretty sight, a mass of gray in a settingof deep green--the trees that encircle the spot, and it made the poorhomesick "beasts" take a little interest in life once more.
Among these "beasts" were Mark and Texas. They sat under the trees alittle apart from the crowd and watched the scene with interest. Markhad seen dress parades before; Texas had not, and he stared with openeyes and mouth, giving vent to an exclamation of amazement and delightat intervals.
"Look a' yere, Mark," he cried, "d'you think we'll ever be able do thata' way. Honest, now? I think I'll stay!"
"Even after you get through fightin?" laughed Mark.
"I don't think I want to fight any more," growled Texas, looking glum."Since you an' me fit, somehow fightin' ain't so much fun."
"What's the fun o' fightin' ef you git licked?" he added, after amoment's thought.
"I never tried it," said the other, laughing. "But I suppose you'll bereal meek now and let them haze you."
"Yaas!" drawled Texas, grinning. "Yes, I will! Them ole cadets git afterme, now, by jingo, I'll go out there an' yank some of 'em out thatparade an' lick them all t'once. But say! look at that chap on a horse."
"That chap's the commandant," said Mark, "and he's going to review theparade for a change."
"I wish I was in it," exclaimed Texas, "an' I wish I knew all thatrigamarole they're doin' now"--that "rigamarole" being themanual-at-arms. "I jest believe if I had somebody to teach me 'cept that'ere yellin' tomcat of a Cadet Spencer I'd learn in a jiffy, dog on hisboots!"
"There he is now," said Mark, "in the second line there. And there onthe outside with his chevrons is Corporal Jasper, 'the committee.' Theylook very different when they're in line."
"Nothin' 'd make that red-headed, freckle-faced coyote of a drill-masterlook different," growled Texas. "I jes' wish he was bigger'n me so's Icould git up a scrap with him. Jest think o' that little martinet ayellin' at me an' tellin' me I didn't have any sense. To-day, forinstance, d'you remember, he was tryin' to show Indian how to march an'move his legs, an' Indian got twisted up into a knot; an' durnation,jist because I laughed, why he rared round an' bucked fo' an hour!What's the harm in laughing, anyhow?"
And Texas glared so savagely at his tormentor as the line swept by justthen that Mark concluded there was no harm and laughed.
"You're getting to be very stupid company, Texas," said he. "You neverdo anything but growl at the cadets. I wish I had some diversion."
And Mark turned away in mock disgust and glanced down the archway oftrees.
"Here she comes," he said, after a moment's pause. "That's she walkingup the path with a cadet and another girl."
Texas turned as Mark spoke, and looked in the direction of his nod.
"So that's Mary Adams!" he exclaimed. "Well! well! That's the girl youdodged barracks for, and risked your commission, and missed the fight,and got called a coward, and sent to Coventry, and lots else. I swear!"
"That's the one," said Mark, smiling.
"She's stunning pretty," added Texas, as the trio drew near. "Gee-whiz!I don't blame you."
"I liked her right well myself," admitted the other. "That is after Isaw her with that brother of hers. She certainly is a good sister tohim. But the cadets say she's something of a flirt, and Wicks Merrittadvised me to leave her alone, so I guess I shall."
"Sunday school teacher!" said Texas, laughing. "We'll have to call youParson, instead of Stanard. But I guess you're right. That's not a verybeautiful looking cadet she's with."
The three were passing then, and Mark arose.
"I guess I'll have to go speak to her," said he. "She's beckoning to me.Wait a moment."
Texas watched his friend approach the group; he could not hear what wassaid, however, and so he turned away to watch the parade. By doing it hemissed an interesting scene.
Mary Adams welcomed Mark with a look of gratitude and admiration thatMark could not fail to notice. She had not forgotten the magnitude ofthe service he had done for her. And then she turned to her twocompanions.
"Miss Webb," she said, "let me present Mr. Mallory."
The other girl bowed, and Mary Adams turned to the cadet.
"Mr. Murray, Mr. Mallory," said she.
And then came the thunderclap. Mark put out his hand; the cadet quietlyput his behind his back.
"The cadets of this academy, Miss Adams," said he, "do not speak to Mr.Mallory. Mr. Mallory is a coward!"
It was a trying moment; Mark felt the blood surge to his head, hisfingers twitched and his lip quivered. He longed to spring at thefellow's throat and fling him to the ground.
It was a natural impulse. Texas would have done it. But Mark controlledhimself by the effort of his life. He clinched his hands behind him andbit his tongue, and when he spoke he was calm and emotionless.
"Miss Adams," he said, "Mr. Murray and I will settle that later."
The two girls stared in amazement, "Mr. Murray" gazed into space, andMark turned without another word and strode over to where his friend wassitting.
"Texas!" he muttered, gripping him by the shoulder. "Texas, there'sgoing to be a fight."
"Hey!" cried Texas, springing to his feet. "What's that? Whoop!"
A Cadet's Honor: Mark Mallory's Heroism Page 11
