  When the cadets returned to school and routine life was resumed the young soldiers were loud in their praises of Don and Jim. They admired the fortitude with which Don had kept quiet and calm when he had learned of Jim’s plight, and they admired Jim’s plucky action. And most of them were surprised at the changed attitude of Cadet Vench. Up to that time the little cadet had been intensely disliked and he had few friends. A few of the students who knew him better than the others called to pay their respects to the injured man and they returned to tell strange tales of a completely changed Vench. He had lost his air of superiority and his boastfulness and he led the way in praising his recent enemy. His injuries were not grave, but he had been badly shaken and at the advice of the doctor he remained in his room and did his studying there. The gash in his head healed rapidly. He told his story several times and the cadets were much interested in it. He had just reached the top of the hill when the second round of artillery fire had started and he was scared and bewildered. He had started to run for the shelter of the trees, hoping that the fire would cease long enough to give him a chance to roll backward down the hill. But as he lay there a stone had hit him and that was the last he had known until he found himself in the field hospital. The cadets discussed the carelessness of the major in low tones, and the general opinion was that he would say nothing concerning it all. But in this they were mistaken. On the evening following their return to Woodcrest a large group was standing on the campus in the light of Locke Hall when Second Lieutenant Stillman came out of the door and started toward Inslee Hall, where he roomed. Rhodes noted a look of dejection and anger on the face of the cadet officer and hailed him. “Hi there, Stillman,” he said. “What’s the matter with your face?” “You mean the expression of it?” asked Stillman ruefully. “Why, yes,” laughed Rhodes. “Now that I take notice of it, the face itself is all right. But the look that is on it at present doesn’t draw any favorable comment.” “I’ve had a mean time in there,” said Stillman, jerking his thumb over his shoulder in the direction of the main hall. “Major Tireson called me down for that affair at the hill.” “For sending Vench over?” asked Dallenger, a third class man. “Yes,” nodded Stillman. “But you didn’t take it, did you?” inquired Don. “Why, yes, I suppose I did. I more or less had to.” “You did not,” said Cadet Chipps. “The major asked you if you had received the orders and you said that you had received them two days previous. Instead of checking up on you to see if you had the correct ones he let you go on. It distinctly was not your fault.” “Well, he said it was, and he talked pretty hotly, too, I assure you. Naturally, I couldn’t talk back to the major.” “You certainly could have,” retorted Don. “You didn’t have to be snappy about it, but as long as you were in the right you should have stood firm.” “Maybe,” shrugged Stillman, moving away. “But that’s easier said than done.” Talk concerning the major became more pointed and it is probable that some of it reached his ears. At any rate, on that very night, as Don, Jim and Terry were studying in their room there came a knock on the door and Jim bade the knocker enter. The door opened to admit the major and all three boys rose quickly and saluted. The major returned the salute shortly and faced Jim. “Mr. Mercer,” he said. “I want to take this opportunity to speak to you. Do you feel well enough to talk?” “Yes, sir,” answered Jim wonderingly. “I just want to tell you that I did not approve of your rash act at Hill 31,” said the major, excitement growing on him. “I understand that some of the cadets think you quite a hero and that in consequence you may become heir to a swelled head. I personally do not think that you did anything commendable, and you greatly endangered me by your foolishness. If anything had happened to you I would have been blamed. In the future you will be kind enough to mind your own business and stick to orders. You will perhaps recall that you had no orders to make any melodramatic dash up the hill in the face of the artillery fire. Do you understand?” “I do,” said Jim, his eyes flashing. “But I do not need orders to make me try to help someone out of difficulty, sir!” “That will do,” snapped the major. “You will find out that this is a military school and not a place where you can do as you like. I will place twenty-five demerits beside your name for what you did that day.” “Very well, sir,” said Jim, calmly. “Wait a minute, Major Tireson,” said Don, with equal quietness, but with a determined look in the set of his jaw. “You will do nothing of the kind!” The major’s eyes bulged. “Silence, sir! How dare you speak to me when I am not even addressing you?” “I repeat what I said,” returned Don, coolly. “You will place no demerit marks against Jim’s name. We both expect to graduate from here with clean records and we will permit no marks to be placed against us unless we knowingly break the rules. Jim didn’t do that and so you will not do what you said you will do!” “Mercer,” snarled the major. “I will order you under arrest!” “You may do what you like,” retorted Don. “But it will do you no good. Every cadet in this school knows that what happened is your fault, Major Tireson, and not anyone else’s. Every cadet is blaming Lieutenant Stillman for having taken demerit marks from you. You yourself know that you made no effort to check up and find out if the second lieutenant knew his orders, and under those circumstances Jim will not take any punishment from you or from anyone else!” For one moment the temporary headmaster glared at him and then his tone became cold. “Report yourself under arrest, Mr. Mercer,” he commanded. “Certainly, sir,” agreed Don with composure. “Until tomorrow evening, and if you have not released me by then I shall leave the school for good!” “Remain in your room under arrest, Mr. Mercer,” repeated the major, and turning on his heel he went out, banging the door after him. “Well, what do you know about that!” gasped Terry, sinking down on the bed. “I know that I’ll follow Don out if he tries to keep him under arrest,” answered Jim, briefly. “He won’t try it,” promised Don, grimly. And a few moments later, when Chipps and Rhodes came in on a visit, they told him the cadets would stand back of him. “In fact,” said Rhodes, getting up. “I think I’ll spread the word right now for a general rebellion!” “Oh, you aren’t going that far, are you?” asked Don. “Absolutely!” said the senior captain. “Major Tireson must be shown conclusively that he can’t pull off a stunt like that and get away with it. That would be making ninnies out of the whole cadet corps. Jim did the right thing and we won’t stand for treatment of that kind, as long as the major himself is the guilty one.” The two seniors departed to spread the word and before taps sounded the cadet body was seething with excitement. A definite plan was formulated and in the morning it was launched. The cadets, with the exception of Don, filed into chapel in the morning and sat quietly down. The services went off as usual and then the major gave the signal for dismissal. A few fourth class men got up, but the senior and third class remained seated. Following their example the second class remained seated also. The major looked at them in amazement. “I said assembly dismissed, gentlemen,” he said. There was nothing but silence over the entire hall and the major’s eyes blazed. “What does this mean?” Rhodes stood in his place and faced him quietly. “I have been delegated by the cadet corps to say that we will not return either to study or to drill until Cadet Mercer, of the fourth class, has been released and all blame for the campaign affair withdrawn from Lieutenant Stillman and Cadet James Mercer,” he stated. “Oh!” hissed the major, when he had fully comprehended. “A school rebellion, eh?” “We hope not, sir,” respectfully returned Rhodes. “But if necessary it will be. The cadet corps has also commissioned me to say that all blame for the Hill 31 affair is to be laid directly to you, Major Tireson. Here at Woodcrest we are taught that military service demands absolute efficiency, especially in the giving and interpreting of orders, and yet the biggest blunder, and one which might have cost two lives, has been made by our commanding officer. We feel that any cadet in the ranks, upon learning that Lieutenant Thompson was ill, would have immediately seen to it that his appointed successor had the correct orders, particularly as those orders had been changed. In the hearing of many of the cadets you were told that Lieutenant Stillman had received orders that were two days old, and yet you allowed that statement to go unchallenged. Under the circumstances the cadet corps feels that punishment of these cadets and the imprisonment of Cadet Mercer is an insult to our organization and will not permit it to go on!” “A very pretty speech,” sneered the major, livid with rage. “Sit down, sir!” “We will now march to the breakfast hall,” went on Rhodes, ignoring the order. “But we will not attend any class or any drill until you have complied with our request. We also feel that we are being lenient with you in not asking you to apologize to the cadets you have reprimanded!” “You sit down!” bellowed the major. “You won’t get a mouthful until you have returned to study and drill! Dictate to me, will you? I’ll punish every one of you and show you how to obey orders quickly!” “Any tactics such as those,” warned the senior, “will be followed by the worst thing that can possibly happen to the school. Every member will return to his own home and remain there until Colonel Morrell has returned or until you back down in your stand.” The senior captain turned his back on the enraged headmaster. “Corps, attention! March as orderly as possible into the dining room!” “I’ll have the food stopped and you won’t get a mouthful!” roared the major. “The minute you give such an order you will be put outside the building and the doors locked against you!” returned Captain Rhodes, quietly. Turning to the waiting cadets he cried briskly: “Get into action, boys. Forward march!” The corps marched impassively into the dining room and took up its place around the tables. The instructors lingered in the assembly hall for a moment, waiting for word from the major, but as none came, they joined the students in the dining room. Taking complete charge of the situation the senior captain asked a blessing on the food and then the cadets ate a hearty breakfast. Rhodes kept his eyes open during the meal, but nothing happened until the close when an instructor beckoned him to come outside. The senior left the room and the cadets waited while they finished their coffee. Rhodes returned after a few minutes and rapped for attention. “The rebellion is over, gentlemen,” he announced. “Major Tireson has agreed to release Cadet Mercer and to forget the entire affair. We will now return to our classes and drill in the spirit of the corps, if you please.” There was a slight feeling of disappointment on the part of the cadet body, but they went back to routine without murmur. Don was told later in the morning to go down and get his breakfast and report to his second call for classes. He did so, and later Rhodes spoke to him briefly. “Our threat to leave the school was what finally tamed him,” the senior said. “He wailed a bit about my disrespect and insults and so forth, but finally agreed to hush up the entire matter. You and Jim won’t have any more trouble on that score.” “I guess not,” agreed Don. “But I’ll bet he won’t love the Mercer brothers from now on!” One murmur ran through the body of cadets with increasing force. “I wish that something definite would be done about locating our colonel,” Lieutenant Sommers expressed it. |
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