The long, low room that we call The Battery seemed most depressingly quiet. Sam was there, to be sure, but his presence hardly counted, for he was sound-and-fast asleep in his own little box, partitioned off in the far corner.

I foraged ’round for pipe and plug-cut, lighted up, and wandered over to the bookcase. There was nothing in it—nothing that I felt up to the bother of reading. I went over to the long oaken table and picked up a copy of the Service Journal, but it proved to be a back number, so I tossed it down again upon the disorderly pile of periodicals, and then climbed upon the cushions of the wide dormer-window, just as the rattle of wheels upon the stone flagging in the court far below shattered the stillness of the July afternoon.

A few words in a familiar voice came indistinctly up to me; the wheels clattered again, but more faintly, as the unseen vehicle was driven out through the archway to the street beyond; and steadily up the long stairs, flight after flight, sounded a quick, firm tread. And then the door swung wide upon its hinges, and Bones, our surgeon—Dr. Sawin, outside the service—broke into the room, with his favorite greeting: “Hello, inside! Never mind the guard!”

“The countersign is correct. Advance friend,” said I, from number-one post on the cushions. “Likewise, the guard, being asleep, will not turn out. Come over here, and make less riot.”

“Just been to see Ali Baba,” explained Bones, dropping upon a chair near the window. “He’ll be mended now in a week or ten days. Thought I’d run up here to glance through the papers. Sent my gig away because it’s too hot to leave the horse standing.”

I slipped off my coat and tossed it to the other end of the window-seat, preparatory to elevating my feet for my greater comfort. Bones also reduced his apparel, and provided himself with smoking materials. Then, with his first few puffs, he said, reflectively, “It’s funny how that ‘Ali Baba’ title has been handed down from captain to captain in ‘L’ company. Why, it must be more than twenty years since the day of the first ‘Ali.’”

A side glance at the surgeon confirmed the impression I had received from the peculiar intonation of his voice: his hands were clasped behind his head, his long legs were draped over the arm of his chair, his eyes were half closed, and he was on the point of being talkative.

Now I, as the latest comer upon the staff, have to serve in the capacity of waste-basket, and all the older officers feel at liberty to use me at any time when they feel the need of freeing themselves of some mildewed old yarn. So I drew a long breath, gave a grunt by way of signifying that I would suffer uncomplainingly, and settled myself to stare vacantly out through the open casement, under the wide, striped awning, and across the broad expanse of roofs towards the green hills, far beyond the city’s limits. “Yes, it must be all of twenty years,” said the surgeon, seeing that I made no effort to escape, “for it was before I’d been enticed into the service—and I’ve been dealing out ginger and pills to this regiment for more years than I care to remember.

“Things were different in those days: the establishment wasn’t on quite the footing that it’s on now. In fact, the true military spirit was at rather a low ebb, and discipline, to put it mildly, was far from rigid. So the service—even though there were good men in it then—was rather in disrepute.

“At that time one Merrowbank was captain of ‘L.’ He was a typical old-timer, a milishy-man from the word go, and a glittering example of all that a volunteer officer shouldn’t be. It was a pet theory of his that the commissioned officer should be able to find stowage for just twice as much Santa Cruz product as the enlisted man could manage to put away—and he lived up to his theory most consistently. Moreover, he had a childlike faith that Providence would keep a watchful eye upon his company property, and he never allowed himself any worry about trifles like shortages in equipment. Well, he’s been out for a long time now—and it’s nihil nisi bonum, you know—but he had a gay old company, they say.

“When the brigade went into camp that year—whatever year it was—Merrowbank took down three officers and forty men, which was a good showing, so far as strength went, for those days. But he found himself short on rifles and great-coats and any quantity of other stuff, and his implicit faith in Providence was much shaken by the discovery; so much shaken that he felt it incumbent upon him to rustle ’round a bit in his own behalf.

“So he got his non-com.’s into his tent the first night of camp, explained the nature of the emergency, and issued a G.O., to the effect that before the next morning every man in ‘L’ who was short of equipment must manage to make up the deficiency—how, he didn’t care a coppery cent, though he’d suggest that it mightn’t be a bad idea to be neighborly with the other regiments of the brigade, just to see how well off they might be in the matter of State property.

“Well, the non-com.’s faithfully promulgated both Merrowbank’s general order and the hint that went with it, and the captain went off on a visit to each of the twenty-four tents in Line Officers’ Row, and finally stowed himself away in bed with a comfortable sense of having done his best to supplement the watchful care of Providence.”

“And in the morning, I suppose, he woke up to find his property complete, and the company fully armed and equipped,” said I, feeling that it was time for me to give some assurance of having been listening.

“Yes, that was about the size of it, as the story goes,” assented Bones, sending a big puff of smoke on its way towards the open window. “But poor Merrowbank had rather a rude awakening on that particular morning, for he was roused by a volley of sharp raps upon his tent-pole, and a good bit before reveille, too.

“As was only natural, he swore fluently, though politely, at the people outside his canvas, and desired to know what the hallelujah they meant by stirring him up at that hour. But on recognizing the colonel’s voice—Hazeltine was colonel then—he tumbled himself out of bed in two-four time; and when he had poked his head through the tent-flaps and had discovered not only the colonel but also old General Starbuckle standing outside in the dim, gray light, he found his ideas coming very rapidly to him, and apologized most profusely for the warmth of his first greeting.

“‘That’s all right, Captain,’ said the colonel, with ominous calmness, glancing keenly at the blinking eyes and rumpled hair framed by the opening in the tent curtain. ‘It’s very annoying, of course, to be roused at such an unseemly hour, after a hard day—and night! But General Starbuckle wishes to see for himself how quickly you can turn out your company, in heavy-marching order, as if in response to a sudden call for special duty. I shall take time from the present moment.’ And he sprung open the lid of his watch, holding it up to his face to note the exact hour.

“Merrowbank desperately plunged into his uniform, stirred up his lieutenants, routed out his first sergeant, and then joined his superior officers; the sleepy men turned out, grumbling and growling, and commenting profanely upon the proceedings; and finally ‘L’ stood formed-up in its company street.

“‘Very fair work, Captain,’ observed Hazeltine, closing his watch with a snap, but omitting any mention of the time taken by the formation; ‘very fair indeed. Now, General, at your convenience’—

“‘What’s your strength, sir?’ asked old Starbuckle, glancing along the line of ill-tempered men.

“‘Three-forty, sir,’ said Merrowbank, suppressing a yawn, and wishing that the old man would be done with his precious nonsense.

“‘Arms and equipments complete and in proper condition?’ questioned the general, sinking his chin deeply into the upturned collar of his great-coat, and sharply eyeing his unsuspecting victim.

“‘They should be, sir,’ replied the captain, catching the point of his sword in his left hand, and bending the blade into a semicircle of shining steel.

“‘H’m! Yes, they should be,’ grunted old Starbuckle, with a tug at his white imperial, ‘but I think I’ll inspect. You, sir, will remain at your post. Will you accompany me, Colonel?’

“The two senior officers slowly passed down the opened ranks, making a most minute inspection of every man. The colonel had lugged out a note-book, and from time to time, at some muttered remark from the general, he would make a brief entry, grinning wickedly at each fresh line of pencilling—for he was no friend of Merrowbank’s, and he found great joy in the task in which he was engaged.

“At length—just as the drowsy drummers of the regiment were turning out to beat reveille—the inspection came to an end, and the general, coming to the front of the company, said, ‘Captain, you will direct your first lieutenant to report the result of reveille roll-call. I wish a word with you in your quarters.’

“Entering the captain’s tent, old Starbuckle planted himself solidly upon a camp-stool, frowned, and said, ‘You are aware, Colonel Hazeltine, how strongly I object to having companies of line organizations bear any designation other than that of regimental number and company letter: has this company any name of an unofficial nature?’

“‘It used to be called the Norfolk Fencibles, I believe,’ replied Hazeltine, wondering at what the brigade commander could be driving, ‘and that name is sometimes used even now—on social occasions.’

“‘Norfolk Fencibles, eh? Tasteful title, that—very!’ grunted the gray-bearded old soldier. ‘And you report forty men, Captain?’

“‘Yes, sir: officers, three—and forty men,’ said poor Merrowbank, feeling a caravan of cold shivers go travelling down his spine, for from the general’s tone he felt abundantly certain that something nasty was coming next.

“‘Well, from now on,’ fairly snorted old Starbuckle, ‘this company will be known as The Forty Thieves!—and with my sanction freely given. Kindly read what you have there, Colonel.’

“The colonel pawed over the leaves of his note-book. ‘One rifle, marked “M, 4th;”’ he began; two ditto, marked “C, 4th;” one ditto, marked “B, 7th;” one great-coat, with red facings’—

“‘An infantryman stupid enough to rob the gunners ought to be discharged for color-blindness, if for nothing else,’ interrupted the general, in the deepest disgust.

“‘One ditto, with yellow facings; two ditto, marked’— “‘There, that’ll do!’ broke in Starbuckle. ‘There are two more pages full of iniquity; but I haven’t the patience to listen to ’em. Not a word, sir!’ as poor Merrowbank desperately began an incoherent explanation; ‘not a word! It’s a bad enough business as it stands—don’t try to make it worse. I’ll explain for your enlightenment that I took a quiet stroll around the camp last night, to observe for myself how the men were conducting themselves, and it so happened that I was just outside your tent when you were giving your non-commissioned officers instructions in petit larceny—and canvas walls are thin, very thin!

“‘To put it into plain English, I was eavesdropping—though unintentionally—and I must apologize, of course, for the way in which I caught you off your guard. But I wish to state right here, Captain, that I can’t approve of your methods, however much I may feel compelled to admire their results; and you therefore will be allowed to send in your papers immediately upon your return from this camp. I let you down easily, sir, for the sake of this regiment, which is a good one, and as a mark of my consideration for your colonel, who is trying to bring the service into efficiency and good repute.’ And with this the general rose stiffly, and marched out of the tent, without bothering to bid Merrowbank a good morning.

“And that was how The Forty Thieves came into their title. The story leaked out, as such stories will, and for the rest of that camp Merrowbank was known as Ali Baba. When his papers had gone in and he had gone out, the nickname was handed down to the next captain of ‘L’—and it will be many a long day, I fancy, before the line of Ali becomes extinct in the regiment.”

“But Ali Baba wasn’t captain of the thieves—at least, as I remember the original fable,” I objected.

“What’s that to do with it?” demanded Bones, getting up from his chair. “Haven’t you been with us long enough to know that we of The Third are never tied down by precedent?”

“But all this happened long before you were in the service,” I ventured. “How does it happen that you can reel it off as smoothly as if you’d been there to see and hear it?” “Oh, I’ve heard the colonel tell it so often that I’ve got the whole lesson by heart,” admitted Bones.

“Yes,” I said wearily, “and so have I!”

The surgeon came over to the window and for a moment stood looking down into the deserted court. The sun had sunk lower, and now its rays came slantwise under the awning and through the opened sashes, to flash in dazzling brightness upon the polished blades and glittering spear-heads of the barbaric weapons clustered on the wall above the bookcase. A fly buzzed its way across the broad track of light, and Bones made a sweep at it with his big hand, but the wary little insect promptly changed direction by the right flank, gave the slip to his burly enemy, and joined a squad of his kindred deployed in open order upon the ceiling.

“Quiet, isn’t it?” said the medicine-man; “quiet as an empty fizz-bottle. Never knew the old shop to be so empty at this late hour of the afternoon.”

“It’s July,” I suggested, “and half the fellows are out of town.”

Bones turned and glanced down the long room towards Sam’s corner, whence at intervals came the low sound of a contented snore. “Seems something like church, eh?” he said. “We haven’t the sermon, but the proper accompaniment is all here. I take it that the veteran has yielded to heat prostration. Well, I’ll not bother him: I can be my own commissary. Ginger-pop and ice wouldn’t be deadly in the present state of the atmosphere. What do you say?”

“I’ll follow your lead,” said I, rapping out the ashes from my pipe; “ginger-pop’ll do for the foundation—and I can trust you to trim it up properly.”

Stepping softly, the surgeon made his way into Sam’s province, presently returning in triumph with two tall glasses of golden-brown nectar, crested with finely crushed ice, and faintly suggestive of old Monogram. I manoeuvred a small table into position between two roomy arm-chairs, and then refilled and lighted my pipe.

“Here’s fun!” said the doctor, politely nodding in my direction, and causing a perceptible ebb in the icy tide in his glass. I made haste to secure the remaining tumbler before replying, in deference to Bones’ profession, “Here’s hoping for an epidemic!” “Now, speaking of The Forty Thieves,” said the doctor, setting his glass back upon the table, and thereby adding another ring of moisture to the two already in evidence upon the polished wood, “I suppose the proudest day in their history was when—just hand over that pipe, will you? It seems to be drawing like a regular flue; mine’s stopped.”

I groaned, but handed over my pipe and rose to hunt for another one. “Now you can chatter along like an accommodation train,” I said, after I had got myself finally settled, with a fresh corn-cob in one hand and my glass within easy reach of the other.

“Meaning with plenty of smoke, and frequent stops for refreshments? Precisely,” said Bones. “Well, it was a great day—the day when The Forty Thieves did up All-Italy. And nobody told me about that, either: omnia ququÆ vidi, quorum magna pars fui—Latin!”

“Yes, I’m awake to the fact,” said I. “You needn’t construe.”

“It was all of eight years back,” Bones ran on, “for it was the year before Hazeltine went up to the command of the brigade. Colonel Elliott was major then, and Curtis, who’s senior major now, at that time was captain of ‘L’ and reigning Ali of The Forty Thieves. And I?—well, I hadn’t been commissioned, but was serving out the fag-end of my third enlistment as hospital steward. Gad! how the roster’s changed since.”

“Tempora mutantur—Latin!” I hastened to put in at this favorable point. “Proceed, you moss-grown veteran.”

“Well, this was the way of it,” said the learned doctor, acknowledging by a grin that honors were a stand-off on the score of dead languages. “When it came ’round to the time for our fall field-work that year, Hazeltine packed us aboard the cars for Glastonbury, down on the line of the B.S. & N.Y.

“For a wonder, the plan of operations was not at all complicated. The main object of the day’s work was to practise the men in skirmishing and in the gaining of ground by short platoon-rushes. So when we reached our destination, we marched out from the village a couple of miles, and then Elliott’s battalion was detached and posted along a stone wall and among some farm buildings, facing a broad sweep of open meadow, while the rest of the regiment footed it along for a mile farther, to return later in the character of bloody invaders.

“Now, up to this point everything was simple enough. But Elliott was—and, as you may have noticed, still is—a strategist of large calibre, and he’d taken the liberty of making a slight addition to the cut-and-dried plan of campaign. About a week before, he had run down to Glastonbury to look over the ground alone, and in the course of his travels he’d made some observations in regard to the lay of the land that set him to thinking. And this is what he thought:

“His four companies were to be attacked in front by the remaining eight, and in the nature of things he was fairly certain of being defeated, but he’d noted the fact that on the left of his position there was a thick growth of young timber, with an old wood-road running off into it, and on following this up he found that it made a circuit and came out into the meadow in his front, in such a way that a force marching over it would find itself eventually in rear of the right flank of the attacking party; and therefore he reasoned that he could make things very entertaining for the colonel’s contingent by availing himself of this feature of the landscape, and mentally made his dispositions accordingly.

“Now, I ought to have been with the main body; but when Elliott’s battalion detached itself I somehow got mixed up with it, and when I found out my mistake I decided to stay where I was—notwithstanding the fact that the assistant surgeon had been assigned to duty with the defence—rather than go chasing over a dusty road after the rest of the regiment. And that was where I played in luck, for if I’d been at my proper post I’d have missed my march with The Forty Thieves, and all the sport that came in at the end of it.

“Elliott had disposed his four companies in line of battle along the stone wall, but as soon as Colonel Hazeltine’s troops went out of sight around a bend in the road he gave some hurried instructions to Curtis, who straightway started ‘L’ company off into the woods. And then Elliott came riding down the line, and caught sight of me.

“‘Hello!’ says he, ‘you here? We seem to be pretty heavy laden with doctors. Just you hustle along after Curtis and his Thieves; an independent column ought to have a medicine-man of its own.’

“So I saluted, and went on a jog-trot after ‘L,’ with my field-case bumping and banging against my hip, and”—

“And mighty sour you were at the detail!” I hazarded, getting up and going over to the mantel after a supply of matches.

“And caught up with The Thieves just after they’d got well into the bush,” said Bones, without noticing my interruption. “Well, I reported to Curtis, and got orders to march either in the line of file-closers or at the rear of the column; and choosing the latter alternative, I trudged along quite contentedly, a little N.C.S. all by myself. It was a cloudy day, with just enough coolness in the air to make marching pleasant, and I thoroughly enjoyed the tramp along the leafy, grass-grown path. The boys joked and guyed each other—we were marching route-step—and once they started in on a song with a jolly, swinging refrain to it, but Curtis shut ’em up in short order, for he didn’t care to have his progress too widely advertised. “Now, Elliott had said that a march of something like three-quarters of a mile would bring us into the desired position for flanking the colonel’s hostile forces, and he’d cautioned Curtis not to cover his ground in less than half an hour; so we strolled along slowly and took things easily. But when, after travelling for the best part of an hour, we had seen no signs of a clearing, why, we rather began to wonder where we were at, and wherefore. You see, we were making our way through the thickest of thick cover, there wasn’t in the whole outfit such an article as a compass, and there was no sun to tell us which way our noses pointed.

“‘This begins to grow blamed ridiculous,’ said Curtis, after we’d patiently footed it for about two miles and a half. ‘I’m not so dead sure about our not being lost. But I’ve had my orders. “Follow copy if it takes you out of the window” is a good enough rule for me’—in civil life, you know, Curtis was a newspaper man—‘and so I’ll heel-and-toe it over this blossoming path until we land in the middle of next week.’

“‘Hello!’ he broke out a moment later, ‘the advance guard begins to show signs of life!’ And with that he halted the company, as the sergeant—who, with two men, had preceded the company by a hundred yards or so—came running back towards us. ‘Well, sergeant, what is it? Are we in sight of land yet?’

“‘I haven’t seen anything, sir,’ reported the sergeant, ‘but I just heard something like shouting, and after that a few shots; not volleys, just scattering pops.’

“‘The skirmishers starting in, most likely,’ commented Curtis, ‘though that wouldn’t account for the shouting.’

“‘But the sound appeared to come from our left,’ went on the sergeant; ‘and that seems queer.’

“‘From your left?’ repeated Curtis, break-off a small twig and thoughtfully chewing one end of it. ‘The deuce it did! Then we’ve marched half ’round a circle, or else the colonel’s flanked us. According to all the rules of the game the enemy ought to be engaged on our right. ‘Tention! Silence in the ranks!’

“We all stood motionless in our tracks, and listened intently. And sure enough, from somewhere ahead of us and to our left, there came the faint sound of a distant uproar, and the echo of an occasional shot.

“‘H’m! I’m completely twisted,’ muttered Curtis, as with wrinkled brows he stood listening to the far-off racket. ‘I can’t seem to make it out at all. Sounds like a picnic of the Gentlemen’s Sons’ Chowder Club! Well, push ahead with your men, sergeant, and keep your eyes and ears well stretched. Keep quiet, and close up, there in the company!’ And we took up our march again.

“‘Halt!’ commanded Curtis, in a low tone, but sharply, as we turned an abrupt corner in the path and caught sight of the sergeant standing with one hand warningly uplifted. ‘Great Scott! We seem to be operating against field-works, and heavy ones too!’ For across the old road, a couple of hundred yards away down the leafy vista, there loomed up before us a high, steep embankment of bright, fresh gravel, clearly outlined against the dull gray of the sky and the dark green of the foliage.

“‘Now be perfectly silent, everybody; and you, Lane’—to the first lieutenant—‘take charge of the company. I’m going to look into the situation for myself,’ said Curtis. And then quickly running forward he joined the sergeant and his men, scrambled with them up the high bank, turned to the left, and disappeared behind the shrubbery.

“For perhaps ten minutes we stood waiting and listening. The noise now was distinctly audible, and I counted the reports of eleven shots before the captain’s figure again came into view upon the crest of the gravel-bank. Well, he waved his arm as a signal for us to advance, and we double-timed it down the path in beautiful form, for during that halt of ours we had been growing terribly inquisitive about what was in the wind, and we were in somewhat of a hurry to find out.

“At a gesture from Curtis we halted at the foot of the slope. He had pulled out a note-book, and was scratching away in it like a crazy reporter; but finally he ripped out two or three leaves, folded them up, and sang out, ‘Corporal Campbell, you’re supposed to be a sprinter: you will take this note, with my compliments, to Major Elliott—and waste no seconds in doing your distance. Give your rifle and equipments to the hospital steward. On your mark—set—go!’

“‘And now, boys,’ he continued, as the corporal, after loading me down with his impedimenta, started off on his long run, ‘I’ve found out what’s making all this row. In the first place, it’s evident that we’ve been travelling the wrong road’—it afterwards appeared, though Elliott hadn’t notified us of the fact, that there were two old wood-roads, of which we carefully had avoided the right one—‘and I haven’t the slightest idea of where we are. But this embankment apparently is the road-bed of that branch which the B.S. & N.Y. is building, and about a third of a mile from us there’s a howling mob of Italians—something less than a thousand and more than two hundred of ’em: I didn’t stop to count—laying regular siege to a shanty in which, in all probability, they’ve got their contractors cornered like rats in a trap. I don’t know anything about the cause of the shindy—more than likely it’s the old story of overdue pay and ugly tempers—but it’s a royal rumpus, whatever started it, and if nobody’s been hurt yet, somebody’s bound to be hurt soon, unless the strong arm of the law sits down hard upon the troubled sea over yonder.’ And with this elegant example of metaphor he stopped to catch breath. “‘Now, after a fashion, we are the strong arm of the law,’ went on Curtis, ‘and I think it’s plainly our duty to sail in, and pour the oil of peace upon the raging waters. I’ve no orders to cover the case; I haven’t any “lawful precept” from mayor or selectmen or anybody else, but—now don’t yell!—if you’ll follow me, I’ll take you along to see the entertainment. All who’ll volunteer to go will come to right-shoulder!’

“Up went the fifty-odd rifles in one-time-and-three-motions, and Curtis continued: ‘That’s the proper stuff! Now, we shall be a half-hundred against a very good-sized mob, and though we are well enough armed, we’re without any ammunition except blanks. It’s dollars to dimes that the bare sight of us will quiet down the ruction, but I don’t care to take any chances. I’ve got to fit you out in some way—how the pretty-pink-blazes shall I do it?’

“He stood thinking for a moment, then made the company form fours—we’d been marching column-of-twos, the path being so narrow—swung the fours into line, and caused arms to be stacked. ‘Now every man of you,’ said he, when the men stood clear of the stacks, ‘will provide himself with ten bits of twig, of the same diameter as a lead-pencil, and about half the length of one. See that the twigs are smooth and straight, so that they’ll slip cleanly into the rifle-chamber—and, if you want to, you may sharpen one end of ’em. Break ranks!—and start in on your whittling.’

“‘Aren’t you afraid that those bullets will be liable to key-hole, Captain?’ sang out one of the lieutenants, with a pleasant grin at his own humor and the prospect of coming trouble.

“‘Can’t tell,’ replied Curtis cheerfully, ‘at least, until we’ve tried ’em. I’m all at sea about trajectories, initial velocities, and all that. We’ll have to work out our musketry theories as we go along. All fitted out, you lads down there? Then fall in!’

“The company formed up, and broke stacks; and then Curtis gave his final directions. ‘Just a word more, boys: if I have to give the command “load!” you will open chamber, thrust into the bore a wooden bullet, and send home after it a blank cartridge. You must keep muzzles elevated, or else your projectiles will slip out. And lastly, if the wild men whom we’re going to visit should exhibit any desire to rush us, I shall order you to drop your cleaning-rods into your barrels—and we’ll try the effect of harpooning ’em at short range. That’s all. Fours right—march!’ And like a small army of ants we swarmed up the sloping bank of sliding gravel, and started on our march down the railway.

“Picking up the advance guard as we went, we tramped rapidly forward, and in a very short time came in sight of the theatre of operations. Sure enough, the comedy—or, for all we then knew, the tragedy—was in full blast, for a roaring mob of swarthy Italians was surging ’round a roughly built shanty, and amusing itself by yelling, and sending an occasional stone or bullet at the closed doors and windows. Whoever was inside was lying very low indeed, for there was no response from within to the demonstrations of the attacking party, and only the lively interest shown by those outside made it appear that the place was tenanted at all.

“The rascals caught sight of us when we were about forty rods from them, and for a moment I thought that I detected signs of a stampede; but when they saw how few we were—for fifty men in column-of-fours don’t make a very imposing showing—they bundled together in a devilishly ugly and suggestive sort of way, and waited for us to come up.

“We left the railway, formed line upon a level stretch of ground, moved forward a hundred yards or so, and then halted.

“‘Now may heaven forgive me the sinful thought,’ said Curtis, as he stood sizing up the savage rabble before him, ‘but I’ve seven-eighths of a mind to give it to ’em where they stand! That aggregation of deviltry is too tempting!’ But, however strong the temptation may have been, he manfully overcame it, and stepping half-a-dozen paces to the front called out, ‘Is there any one among you who speaks English?’

“For answer the children of sunny Italy sent up a derisive and most provoking yell; and so Curtis, failing to obtain an interpreter from the ranks of the enemy, turned to us, with, ‘Not much satisfaction to be had from them, apparently. Does anybody in the company know their lingo?’ “It seemed that our ignorance was on a par with theirs, for nobody confessed to a working knowledge of Italian. For one insane moment, to be sure, I was impelled to step out and address the offending foreigners in the ancient tongue of their native land; but to save my soul I couldn’t lay hand upon anything besides Arma virumque cano, and”—

“Latin again, by thunder!” I said, enthusiastically. “Ah! but you are up in the humanities, Bones.”

“And that, you know,” placidly went on the surgeon, with a nod in recognition of my admiration, “was hardly the extent of what I wished to say—though it may have been, after a fashion, apposite to the requirements of the occasion. So I let the chance to distinguish myself slip by unimproved, and stuck to my place in the file-closers.

“‘Now I am in a hole!’ admitted Curtis, after this double failure in his attempt at opening the way to a parley. ‘I’m stumped at this phase of the business—and blessed if I know just what card to lead next!’

“‘Ah! you will, will you?’ he growled, as three or four stones came sailing over at us. ‘Well, that’s cue enough for me. Fix bayonets!’ There was a metallic rattle and clash, as the fifty steel jabbing-tools were put into place for business. ‘With ball cartridge—load!’

“‘And now, in the name of the Commonwealth,’ bellowed Curtis, after he had seen his men tuck away in their rifles wood enough to keep a match factory running full time for a week, ‘I command ye to disperse!’

“‘Skip—scatter—vamose!’ he added by way of explanation, waving his arms like a farmer driving away mosquitoes. ‘Get a move on you, and clear out, you obstinate lunatics! Sabe? Comprenez? Understand?’

“It seemed to me that the mob displayed symptoms of wavering: and when Curtis, in his deepest and most awe-inspiring tone, commanded, ‘Aim!’ I drew a breath of relief, for I felt that when The Forty Thieves levelled their fifty rifles in one long, threatening line, a break must surely follow. But just at this critical moment the door of the shanty was flung open, and three men dashed out and went tearing off towards the woods. And then the break came!—though not just in the way I had anticipated. For, utterly disregarding us, the swarthy madmen, with a wild yell of delight, sprang off in pursuit of their escaping prey.

“It was a horrible sight—upon my soul, a horrible sight!—to see the brutal fierceness of that sudden rush. And it made me fairly sick to think of the pounding and stabbing and murderous kicking that surely would follow if the mob once caught the miserable men whom it was hunting down. I only wish that those who frown upon the service could have been with us then—for they would have had an awful object-lesson in the necessity for maintaining the military establishment, even in this enlightened land and in these peaceful days.

“I must admit that the unexpected hideousness of the whole thing threw me clean off my balance for the moment; but Curtis kept his head, and did his duty as he saw it cut out for him. ‘Aim waist-high!’ he commanded, running to the windward flank of the company in order to observe the effect of the volley. ‘Fire!’ And, with a report like that of a single big cannon-cracker, The Forty Thieves came into the game.

“I heard a chorus of outlandish yelps and howls immediately after the volley rang out, and, to my infinite relief and satisfaction, when the smoke drifted up and away I saw that the rabble was scattering in every direction. Five or six men were down, but whether they’d been hit or simply had tumbled over each other, I can’t say, for—with the exception of one fellow—they all scrambled straightway to their feet, and pranced off to cover in a way that convinced me that their wounds, if they had any, weren’t liable to be instantly fatal.

“Well, there was my cue. I handed to the nearest sergeant the rifle I’d been carrying, and ran over to hold a post mortem—still more Latin, you’ll observe—on the man that we’d bowled over. When I started towards him he seemed to be out of it, for he lay quite still; but just as I reached him he began to jabber and snarl and twist himself into bow-knots, for all the world as if he’d eaten a peck of green apples, and was undergoing the consequences. Flapping him over upon his back I began to search for his hurt, but I didn’t have to make a very extended hunt, for—well, what do you suppose I found?”

“Can’t guess,” said I, fishing out a bit of ice from the bottom of my emptied glass; “unless your man was skewered on one of those wooden plugs.”

“That’s not so wide as it might be,” laughed Bones, “for I found a stylographic pen—yes, sir; a stylographic pen!—tightly driven into the muscles of his neck. Regular hypodermic injection of ink, by ginger! That proved the pen mightier than the sword, eh?”

“So it would seem,” said I. “But whose pen was it?”

“I never found out,” said the surgeon. “Whoever it was that got excited enough to shoot it away was too much ashamed to claim it afterwards, and I still have it.

“Well, that’s nearly all the story of the war with Italy. We held the field until Elliott came up with his battalion; and later, Hazeltine came ploughing down the railway with the other eight companies—after which, of course, peace reigned supreme. I daresay you remember the court of inquiry on Curtis, and the newspaper discussion about the whole business?”

“Yes,” said I, rising from my chair, after a glance at my watch; “and I remember reading that Curtis came near getting into uncomfortably hot water for taking the law so calmly into his hands.”

“Humph! That was all very well,” said the doctor, rising and going towards the spot where he had tossed his coat. “But if those who questioned Curtis’ authority to do as he did only could have seen what I had the privilege of seeing, they’d have chipped in to buy him a presentation sword, instead of criticising his actions so freely. Well, I must dine somewhere, I suppose, and I think your club will do me.” And we slipped quietly down the stairs, leaving Sam still sleeping.