CHAPTER XXXII.
CONCLUSION.
The yearlings were a merry party, about ten of them, and they were outfor fun and all the fun that could be had. They were going to make ithot for certain B. J. plebes, and they meant to lose no time about it,either. They crept up the company street, laughing and talking inwhispers, for fear they should arouse the tac. The sentries they did notcare about, of course, for the sentries were pledged to "look the otherway."
It was decided that the first thing to be done to those B. J. plebes wasto "yank 'em." Yanking is a West Point invention. It means that thevictim finds his blanket seized by one corner and torn from under him,hurling him to the ground. Many a plebe's nightmares are punctuated withjust such periods as these.
It seems that a "yanking" was just what the four had prepared for. Theyhad prepared for it by huddling up in one corner and rigging dummies toplace in their beds. The dummies consisted of wash basins, buckets,etc., and it was calculated that when these dummies were yanked theywould be far from dumb.
The yearlings stole up cautiously; they did not know they were watched.The breathless plebes saw their shadows on the tent walls, and knew justwhat was going on. They saw the figures line up at the back; they sawhalf a dozen pairs of hands gently raise the canvas, and get a good firmgrip on the blankets. Then came a subdued "Now!" and then--well, thingsbegan to happen after that!
The yearlings "yanked" with all the power of their arms. The blanketsgave way, and the result was a perfectly amazing clatter and crash. Haveyou ever heard half a dozen able-bodied dishwashers working at once?
Naturally the wildest panic resulted among the attacking party. They didnot know what they had done, but they did know that they had donesomething desperate, and that they wished they hadn't. As the soundbroke out on the still, night air they turned in alarm and made a wilddash for their tents.
Two of them raced down the company street at top speed; both of themsuddenly struck an unexpected obstruction and were sent flying throughthe air. It was a string; and at one end of it was the Texas.44-caliber. The result was a bang that woke the camp with a jump. Andthen there was fun for fair.
The sentries knew then that every one was awake, including the "tac,"and that they might just as well, therefore, "give the alarm." All fiveof them accordingly set up a wild shout for the corporal of the guard.This brought the young officer and Lieutenant Allen on the scene in notime. Also it brought from the land of dreams every cadet in the corpswho had managed to sleep through the former racket. And nearly all ofthem rushed to their tent doors wondering what would happen next.
The seven meanwhile had been working like beavers. The instant the gunhad gone off Texas, who held the string, had yanked it in and stowed itaway with his other weapons, shaking with laughter in the meanwhile. Theothers had gone to work with a will; pitcher, basin, bucket, everything,had been hastily set in place; blankets had been relaid; and everything,in short, was put in order again, so that by the time that LieutenantAllen got around to their tent--the officer had seized his lantern andset out on a hasty round to discover the jokers--he found four "scared"plebes, sitting up in beds, sleepily rubbing their eyes, and inquiringin anxiety:
"What's the matter?"
He didn't tell them, for he hadn't the remotest idea himself. And nobodytold him; the yearlings couldn't have if they had wanted to.
Of course the lieutenant didn't care to stay awake all night,fruitlessly asking questions; so he went to bed. The sentries resumedtheir march, wondering meanwhile what on earth had led their classmatesto make so much rumpus, and speculating as to whether it could possiblybe true, what one cadet had suggested--that that wild and woolly Texanhad tried to shoot some one who had hazed him. The rest of the cadetsdropped off to sleep. And soon everybody was quiet again--that is,except the Seven Devils.
The Seven Devils had only just begun. They lay and waited until thingswere still, and then Mark gave the order, and the crowd rose as one manand stole softly out into the street. This included even the tremblingIndian, who was muttering "Bless my soul!" at a great rate.
"I guess they're all asleep now," whispered Mark.
"What are you going to do?" inquired Indian.
"Yank 'em," responded Mark, briefly. "Come ahead."
Mark had seen that the yearlings came up boldly, which told him at oncethat the sentries were "fixed," and he calculated that just at themoment the moon being clouded, the sentries would not know yearlingsfrom plebes. The only danger was that Lieutenant Allen might still beawake. It was risky, but then----
"Do you see Bull Harris' tent?" Mark whispered. "It is the sixth fromhere. He and the Baby, with Vance and Murray, are in there. Now, then."
With trembling hearts the crowd crept down the street; this was theirfirst venture as lawbreakers. They stole up behind the tent just as theyearlings had; they reached under the canvas and seized the blankets.And then came a sudden haul--and confusion and muttered yells from theinside, which told them that no dummies had been yanked this time.
The yearlings sprang up in wrath and gazed out; retreating footsteps andmuffled laughter were all that remained, and they went back to bed indisgust. The plebes went, too, in high glee.
"And now," said Mark. "I guess we might as well go to sleep."
* * * * *
One does not like to leave this story without having a word to say aboutwhat the corps thought of the whole thing next morning. The "tac," ofcourse, reported to his superior the night's alarm--"cause unknown," andthat was the end of the matter officially. But the yearlings--phew!
The class compared notes right after reveille; and no one talked aboutanything else for the rest of that day. The cause of the rumpus made bythe blankets was soon guessed; the two who had set off the gun werequestioned, and that problem soon worked out also; that alone was badenough! But the amazement when Bull and his tentmates turned up anddeclared that they--yearlings!--had been yanked, yes yanked, and by somemeasly plebes at that, there is no possibility of describing theindignation. Why, it meant that the class had been defied, that WestPoint had been overturned, that the world was coming to an end,and--what more could it possibly mean?
And through all the excitement the Seven just looked at each other--andwinked:
"B. B. J.!" they said: "Just watch us!"
"It was great, b'gee!" said Dewey. "Hurrah for the plebes!"
"Hurrah!" was the answer, in a shout. "Hurrah!"
THE END.
A Cadet's Honor: Mark Mallory's Heroism Page 32
