The Mercer Boys in the Ghost Patrol

by Capwell Wyckoff

  2 The “Gossip” Runs Wild

  The whole trick was clear to him now. In the general orders of the day,read to the cadets on the previous day, the fact that no excuse would beaccepted had been sternly emphasized. Terry was not the kind who wouldcarry tales even if he thought they would excuse him and win himsympathy, and as he realized how badly fooled he had been his eyesflashed in anger.

  “I see the whole business, now,” he reflected. “Jack Olson is a crony ofRowen’s and he carried that note supposedly signed by Rush. They know Iwon’t tell Rush about it, and there isn’t any use in thumping Olson,because he probably had to take his orders from Rowen. But I sure wouldlike my hands on that surly guy!”

  Realizing that every moment counted the red-headed youth looked aroundthe small room, his eyes having grown used to the darkness. He hopedthat there might be some instrument that would make it possible for himto pry up a board and so make his escape, but the only thing in sightwas the pile of harness. There was not even a piece of metal on theharness and although he examined every corner of the little cell he wasunable to find a single object that would aid him.

  “Guess I’ll just have to use my hands and feet, if that will do anygood,” he reflected.

  Dropping on his hands and knees he examined the floor carefully to seeif any of the boards were loose, but all of them were securely fastenedto the huge beams that made up the framework of the barn. The boardswere very thick and any thought of escaping under the barn was out ofthe question. From there he went to the door, feeling carefully alongthe sides to see if any signs of weakness existed here, but once againhe was disappointed. Like the rest of the barn the door and the framehad been strongly constructed and it did not even quiver under hishearty kicks.

  “About the only thing I can do—if I can do it—is to kick a board off theside of the wall,” he decided.

  With this thought in mind he raised his foot, but then a sound reachedhis ears, a sound that made his blood chill.

  With a clarity and snap the call of assembly rang out on the morningair!

  “Good night!” groaned Terry, the sweat breaking out on his forehead.“There goes the call to assemble! If I’m ever going to get out of herein time, now is the moment!”

  With desperation Terry kicked stoutly at the wall boards, but with thefirst kick the bitter truth was forced upon him. The sides of the barnwere as strongly composed as the rest of the building, and all thekicking in the world would not get him out of the room in which he washeld prisoner. To further worry him certain sounds told him that theprocess of assembly was going forward rapidly.

  Doors slammed, running footsteps sounded on the parade grounds, voicesrang out as the assembling cadets gathered. The butt of a rifle crackedon the pavement, and the noise of stamping horses reached his ears. Thecavalrymen, of which Jim Mercer was the chief, were leading out thespirited mounts, and the creaking of leather, the snorts of the horses,and the cries of the young soldiers, reached the ears of the unfortunateyoung cadet. Hoping to attract their attention he pounded and yelled atthe top of his voice, but no response came back to him. They were makingtoo much noise themselves to hear him.

  Closer at hand there was a deeper rumble and Terry groaned in spirit. Itwas the members of his own division, the artillery, taking out the fieldguns that they were to take with them for the summer practice. He wasthe chief gunner on the sleek steel monster which he had named the“Gossip” and he knew that the others of his crew must be wondering wherehe was. Just as soon as the guns were in formation and the roll callsounded he would be officially marked absent from duty and held guiltyof disobeying orders. As he heard the guns roll out of the barracks andheard the noise of the towing cables being connected he knew it was toolate.

  From the barracks to the parade ground there was a slight hill and thetrucks began to pull the weapons up the grade. He heard them go up oneby one and then something seemed to go wrong. There was a snap, a rumbleand somebody cried out.

  “Look out!” he heard Captain Rush bellow. “Number One gun is loose!”

  That gun was Terry’s own piece of equipment. From the cries that arosehe gathered that the gun had broken from the cable and was rolling downthe hill. There was an increasing rumble that seemed suddenly close athand, and before his brain had time to realize what had happened therewas a tremendous crash, the boards of his cell burst open likematchwood, and the butt of the “Gossip” halted a scant foot from hisstomach!

  For a single instant Terry was stunned. The sudden glare of morningsunlight made him blink, the dust filled his mouth and the echoes of thecrash remained in his ears. But it did not take him long to regain hiscomposure and spring forward. He placed affectionate hands on the gun.

  “Good old ‘Gossip,’” he whooped. “You wouldn’t go on parade without me,would you? Talk about luck!”

  A half dozen artillerymen appeared at the opening, led by Captain Rush.At the sight of Terry they halted and stared in amazement.

  “Where have you been?” Cadet Emerson, Terry’s mate, shouted.

  “Waiting for the old ‘Gossip’ to let me out!” retorted Terry gleefully.

  Rush approached him. “Where have you been, Mr. Mackson?” he inquiredformally.

  “Someone locked me in here and I couldn’t get out, captain,” returnedTerry.

  “Then the accident was a lucky one for you,” nodded the captain. Heturned to the young artillerymen. “We have only a few minutes to makethe parade grounds. Snap to it!”

  Terry threw himself into the work, rejoicing in the chance to be busy.The truck was backed down the hill and the broken cable was strippedfrom it and new material substituted. A loose pin was driven into theshaft and when the “Gossip” was harnessed it was drawn up to the top ofthe hill in safety and wheeled swiftly into position. And on the rearbox sat Terry, grinning from ear to ear.

  When his name was called he answered brightly, stealing a look acrossthe parade ground to the infantry, where Rowen stood in the second rank.The face of the sullen one was a study in amazement.

  In accordance with previous instructions the cavalry swung out first,taking the long, dusty road that led to Rustling Ridge. Next in linemarched the infantry and the artillery rumbled in the rear. Terry sat onhis gun, happy and thankful for the good fortune he had had. He smiledfrequently, but there was a grim set to his jaw nevertheless.

  All through the morning they marched and it was noon before they pausedto make temporary camp. Just as soon as the long column came to a haltand broke up Terry made his way to where Rowen and his few friends saton a grassy bank. He halted directly in front of the other.

  “Didn’t work, did it?” Terry asked.

  Rowen looked at him with a haughty frown. “I don’t know what you aretalking about,” he said.

  “Yes, you do. Your plan to lock me in the barn until I was late for campdidn’t turn out very well, did it?”

  “I don’t know anything about it, and you can’t prove that I do,” snappedthe dark-haired boy.

  “Don’t be silly!” growled Terry. “I can do that easily. All I have to dois to give that little sneak Jack Olson a good, stiff beating and he’lltell. Look at how pale he is! Or I can ask Captain Rush about it andwe’d have you in a fine mess. But I don’t intend to do anything likethat, Rowen, and you know it. I would have been blacklisted by mycaptain if I had been late for encampment, and you figured on that. Now,look here! Just one more piece of freshness out of you and I’ll give youthe peachiest licking you ever saw, right in front of the cadet corps.Don’t forget it, my friend!”

  Turning on his heel Terry walked off, his eyes dancing slightly. Therewas no word spoken by the ones back of him, and perhaps it was just aswell. The redhead was dynamite and ready to go.

  In that brief period he encountered Don. Jim was far ahead with thesupply corps but Don, who was a lieutenant in the infantry, was close athand. He was delighted to see his pal.

  “Where in the wor
ld were you at assembly?” Don demanded. “Jim and Inearly turned the building upside down looking for you.”

  Terry explained briefly and Don approved of his recent charge to Rowen.“That fellow certainly has a grudge against you,” said Don. “Youcouldn’t exactly call him a bully, because he isn’t big enough or strongenough, but his surly nature makes him anything but trustworthy. A finemess you would have had if you had been several days late forencampment. As far as that goes, you might have been a prisoner in thatstorage room for a long time.”

  “That’s right,” agreed Terry. “And to anyone who likes to eat as well asI do that would have meant something!”

  After an afternoon of leisurely marching the cadets came to an openmeadow where the cavalry and the supply corps had set up tents. Herethey spent the night and the next morning they pushed on to RustlingRidge, arriving there about noontime.

  Rustling Ridge was a long slope that rose gradually from a flat meadow.It was in the heart of delightful country, and here and there solitaryfarmhouses could be seen. Close beside the camp there was a deepswimming hole, which the cadets welcomed with unrestrained delight. Thecamp itself was pitched in a grove about a quarter way up the slope, thewhite tents rising in somewhat irregular lines between the trees. Thewide glades on either side of the camp permitted the creation of naturalcenters for the horses and the supply wagons and guns. By midafternoonthe camp was in first-class order and the tired cadets enjoyed theirfirst swim in the near-by swimming hole.

  After supper large fires were lighted, but the cadets did not lingerlong around them. Even before taps many of them had sought their cots,falling asleep as soon as they crawled in between their blankets.Sentries were posted and soon the camp was quiet except for the stampingof horses and the tramp of the sentries.