The Motor Boys in the Army; or, Ned, Bob and Jerry as Volunteers

by Clarence Young

  CHAPTER XIII

  IN THE CAMP

  Bob, surprised as much by the suddenness of the other’s action asby the violence of the blow, staggered back, his hands going to hisbruised face. There was a moment of silence, and then Jerry, who hadseen the whole occurrence, cried out in ringing tones:

  “Here, fellow, don’t you hit him again!”

  “Who says so?” demanded “Pug” Kennedy, as he called himself. “If you’relooking for trouble come down and get yours!” and he stepped out intothe aisle and struck a characteristic pugilistic attitude.

  “I’m not looking for trouble,” said Jerry calmly; “but I like fairplay, and I’m going to see that my friend gets it.”

  “Oh, you’re going to butt in, are you?” sneered the other.

  “No, I’m not in the habit of doing that,” said Jerry. “But what did youstrike Bob for?”

  “None of your business.”

  “Oh, yes, it is our business, too,” said Ned, walking up beside Jerry.Bob’s nose had begun to bleed and he was holding his handkerchief toit. He seemed dazed, and acted as though he did not know how to accountfor what had occurred.

  “What happened, Bob?” asked Jerry, as Ned walked up to theheavily-built lad.

  “Why, I was looking for my bag of crullers, and I saw them in hispocket and----”

  “You did not!” burst out Pug Kennedy. “That’s my own grub that I boughtin the station, and if you want to fight for it----”

  “What are you always talking about fighting for?” asked Ned suddenly,as he put out his hand and swung the bully around sharply. “I guess youaren’t the only one who can do that.”

  “Keep your hands off me!” roared Pug Kennedy. “If you’re looking fortrouble----”

  “I generally find what I’m looking for,” said Ned softly, and he didnot give back an inch as Kennedy took a quick step forward.

  Then, with a quickness that showed he understood considerable about thepugilistic ring, Kennedy made a sudden shift, and his fist shot outtoward Ned. But the latter was just as quick, and, dodging the blow, heput out his hand in a stiff arm movement and pushed Kennedy back intohis seat. The bully fell heavily. He tried to get up.

  “No you don’t! Just sit there awhile!” cried Ned, and he plumpedhimself down on the struggling one, holding him in place.

  Seeing how matters were going, the others who had crowded up drew backas well as they could in the aisle of the swaying car, to give room tothe struggling ones. If there was to be a fight it was no more thanright that it should be a fair one.

  “Let me up!” spluttered Pug Kennedy.

  “Not until I get ready,” answered Ned coolly.

  He could afford to be cool. For he had dodged what Pug had thought wasgoing to be a “knockout blow” in such a clever way that the bully wasdisconcerted, and now Kennedy was held down in such a position that hecould not use his strength to advantage.

  But he was strong, Ned had to admit that. Only because of the fact thathe had the larger boy at a disadvantage, sitting on him, so to speak,and holding him down by bracing his legs against the opposite seat, wasNed able to keep himself where he was, for Pug struggled hard.

  “Just stay there until you cool off a bit,” advised Ned, “and until youlearn not to hit out so with your fists. If you want to fight, we’llfind some one your size and weight in our crowd to take you on. Howabout it, Jerry?”

  “I’ll agree if he will,” was the answer, and the tall lad grinnedcheerfully.

  “Who said I wanted to fight?” growled Pug Kennedy, as he saw severalunfriendly looks cast in his direction, and noted the athletic build ofJerry Hopkins.

  “Well, you sort of acted that way,” commented Ned, who did not intendto give the bully the slightest advantage. “What did you want to hitBob for?” and he nodded at his chum, who had finally succeeded instopping his nose hemorrhage.

  “What’d he want to go and shove his hands into my pocket for, withoutasking me if he could?” demanded Pug, and it must be admitted thathe really had right on his side. Bob had acted hastily, and perhapsindiscreetly, considering that he did not know the lad who had had theencounter with him.

  “I was only looking for my crullers,” Bob explained. “Some one took ’emfor a joke, and when I saw the bag in your pocket I thought you had’em.”

  “Well, why didn’t you say so?” growled Pug, who, in truth, lookedsomething like the animal from which had come the nickname.

  “You didn’t give me a chance,” said Bob. “If you wanted to fight whydidn’t you say so?”

  “Well, you mind your own business, and let me alone!” growled thebelligerent one. “And you’d better let me up if you know what’s goodfor you!” he added fiercely to Ned.

  “Oh, I guess I know my business,” was the calm rejoinder. “At the sametime I’m willing to let you up provided you promise to keep your handsoff my friend. If you want to fight, as I said, that can be arranged.”

  “I won’t promise anything!” growled Pug.

  “Then you’ll sit there until you do,” observed Ned. There is no tellinghow long this deadlock might have kept up, but at this point SergeantMandell, who had been in the smoking car, came back to see how hisrecruits were getting on. He took in the scene at a glance.

  “Let him up, Slade,” he ordered Ned. “And you, Kennedy, keep quiet.Remember you’re soldiers now, and you must obey your superiors. For thetime being I am your officer, though I want to be your friend, too. Nowwhat’s the row?”

  It was explained in various ways, but all agreed that Kennedy hadstruck first, and with little provocation, for Bob’s action, thoughthoughtless, poking his hands into the pockets of another lad, had beeninnocent enough.

  “You had no right to hit him for that,” declared the sergeant. “ButI am not saying that Baker did exactly right, either. Though it wasnatural for him to want his crullers.”

  With mutterings and growls, Pug Kennedy shook himself after Ned let himup, and slunk into his seat, away from the others. Ned, Bob, and Jerrywent back to their places, and quiet was once more restored.

  “Bob, old man, I’m sorry,” said Ned. “It was my fault. I did take yourcrullers, but I haven’t ’em now. I passed ’em down the line as a joke.I’ll see if I can get ’em back.”

  “Let ’em go, I don’t want ’em,” growled Bob.

  It was perhaps a good thing he did not want them, since the crullershad been eaten. When Ned learned that he offered to buy some more atthe next lunch counter.

  But there was no time for this, as Sergeant Mandell said they wouldsoon reach Yorktown, where they would be quartered until they could bemore carefully examined and a decision arrived at as to where to sendthem for preliminary training.

  As the motor boys, with their old and new friends, were gathering uptheir luggage, preparatory to getting off the train when it should stopin Yorktown, a lad slipped up to Ned.

  “You want to look out for that fellow,” he said in a low voice.

  “What fellow?”

  “That Pug Kennedy. The one you sat on.”

  “Why?”

  “Oh, he’s a scrapper and always looking for a fight. He comes from thesame town I do, and he’s licked every boy in it, some bigger than heis, too.”

  “Thanks for telling me,” said Ned. “I’m not afraid of him. But, justthe same, it’s as well to be on the watch. He seems like a bully.”

  “He is. He doesn’t mind fighting a fellow smaller than himself. I don’tlike him, but I’ve got to hand it to him--he is some scrapper! I hopethe army takes some of the mean wrinkles out of him.”

  “The army is just the place to get it done,” observed Ned. “Thanks fortelling me. See you again some time.”

  He looked over to note what Kennedy was doing, but the latter had leftthe car. Ned, Bob, and Jerry, with their fellow recruits, were formedinto a squad, and, amid the friendly looks of a crowd that gathered atthe station, they marched to the barracks, which were not far away.

  “So Pu
g Kennedy is a scrapper, is he?” observed Jerry, when Ned toldhim the result of the talk with the other boy. “Well, it’s as well toknow that first as last. I hope he isn’t sent to our camp. But, if heis, we’ll have to make the best of it.”

  It was noted that “Pug” answered to the title of Michael, and it wasassumed that “Pug” had been the characterization given him because ofhis fancied resemblance to a dog of that breed--a resemblance morereal, in certain ways, than fancied.

  In the following days the recruits were measured, weighed, tested invarious ways, and finally were all sworn in as privates in the UnitedStates army that was eventually to fight, in France or elsewhere, thetroops of the Central Powers.

  To Bob’s distress he was held up by one doctor, as being overweight,and was close to being rejected. But his chums took him in hand, andfor a day starved him on a most reduced diet, and made him take so muchexercise that Bob lost about five pounds, and passed.

  “But it was a close call,” said Jerry, when all was safe. “Don’t go tostuffing yourself with pie or crullers until after you’re in the camp.Then they won’t put you out, I dare say.”

  “I’ll be careful,” promised Bob, now quite anxious.

  And, three days later, the motor boys, with a number of their friendsfrom Cresville, and with others whom they did not know, including theunpleasant Pug Kennedy, were sent to Camp Dixton, there to be given athorough training for their new life in the army.