Don Gordon's Shooting-Box

Bert arose the next morning, after an almost sleepless night, full of apprehension and trembling for fear of the punishment that was to be visited upon him, while Don’s face wore a defiant expression. He had slept the sleep of the healthy, and awoke refreshed and fully prepared to meet anything that might be in store for him. Greatly to his surprise and Bert’s, nothing was said to them regarding what had taken place the night before. They found opportunity to exchange a few words with Sam Arkwright, who gleefully informed them that everything was all right, and that no one was the wiser for the assault that had been made upon him by the third-class boys, and caught a momentary glimpse of Fisher and Duncan, both of whom smiled and saluted in the most courteous manner. Don did not know what this meant, but it was not long before he found out.

That afternoon all the members of the fourth class were ordered to the drill-room, where they found a quartermaster-sergeant, the captain of their company, and one of the teachers, who served out to them their new uniforms, which they were told to put on at once. When ranks were broken, Don and Bert hastened to their dormitory, and had just completed the work of exchanging their citizen’s clothes for their natty suits of cadet gray, when there came a knock at the door. Bert’s heart seemed to stop beating.

“That must be the orderly,” said he, in an excited whisper.“ If it is, we shall soon know what is going to become of us.”

“Well, we might as well know one time as another,” said Don, doggedly. “I hope it is the orderly, for I have been kept in suspense long enough.”

Bert opened the door, when who should appear on the threshold but Tom Fisher and Clarence Duncan. The former extended his hand to Bert, who took it after a little hesitation, while Clarence entered the room and greeted Don in the same friendly way.

“Gordon,” said Clarence, as Don’s sinewy fingers closed about his own, “you’re a brick. We came here to tell you and your brother that we and the rest of the fellows are sorry for what happened last night, and that we want to be friends with you.”

“Nothing would suit me better,” answered Don.

“We have had time to consider the matter,” said Fisher, seating himself on Bert’s bed and depositing his cap on the table, “and we are all very glad that you didn’t let us duck that Plebe. It would have been a mean piece of business to haze him in that way, seeing that he didn’t have a suit of dry clothes to put on.”

“Or a fire to warm himself by,” chimed in Bert, with some indignation in his tones. “Why, I never heard of such a thing. It would have been the death of him.”

“It was cold, wasn’t it?” said Clarence. “Well, we didn’t haze him, and, as Tom says, we are all glad of it. But, I say, you make nobby-looking soldiers, you two. Did you get in last night all right?”

“We got in twice,” answered Don, ruefully. “We got inside the grounds, and we got into trouble.”

“How was that? Didn’t you have a pass?”

“Yes; but it was only good until half-past nine, and we stayed out until half-past ten.”

“Oh! ah. Well, that’s nothing when you get used to it, is it, Fisher?” said Clarence.

“Nothing at all,” replied Tom. “It has been a very common thing with me, and now I never think of asking for a pass. I go when I please and come back when I feel like it.”

“What do you suppose they will do with us?” asked Bert, who was anxious to have that point settled as soon as possible.

“Let me see,” said Clarence, thoughtfully. “Who was officer of the day yesterday?”

“I don’t know his name,” answered Don, “but he was the same one who instructs our class in mathematics, an old gentleman with gold spectacles, and a medal of some kind on his breast.”

“Oh, that was Dutchy,” said Fisher, in a tone of contempt. “He’s our fencing-master also. Well, he will make the case against you as black as he can, and if he were the one to say how you should be punished, I tell you you would have a lively time of it, for he is a regular martinet. The President is a very strict disciplinarian, but he hasn’t yet forgotten that he was once a boy himself, and he will probably be easy with you.”

“But what will he do?” insisted Bert. “That’s what Don and I want to know. And if he is going to punish us at all, why doesn’t he say so?”

“Because the proper time has not yet arrived. Wait until dress-parade comes off to-night, and then you will find out all about it, for it will be published in general orders.”

“Before the whole school?” cried Bert.

“Of course,” answered Clarence.

Bert grew very red in the face, and looked at Don, who, in turn, stared hard at Bert.

“It is nothing to worry over,” said Fisher. “Some of the best fellows in school have been gated and made to walk extras on Saturday afternoons with packed knapsacks, and that is all the punishment you will receive.”

“What do you mean by ‘gated’?” asked Don.

“What is a ‘packed knapsack?” inquired Bert.

“Why, when a fellow is gated he is confined inside the grounds, and not allowed to go out under any circumstances,” replied Clarence.

“But he can go out all the same if he feels like it,” said Fisher, with a laugh. “I never knew a fellow to stay inside the grounds simply because he was gated, unless he was one of those milk and water boys who hadn’t spirit enough to say that his soul was his own.”

“How can he get out?” asked Don.

“He can run the guards. Clarence and I have done it many a time.”

“Were you never caught at it?” inquired Bert.

“Once or twice, but that was owing to our own carelessness. It is an easy thing to do when the right kind of fellows are on duty, and really exciting when the posts are held by such boys as Blake and Walker, and others of that sort. They’re a mean set. They are always on the watch for a chance to report somebody, because they believe that that is the way to gain the good-will of the teachers.”

“And a packed knapsack,” continued Clarence, “is one with something heavy in it, such as bricks or paving-stones. When you are called upon to walk an extra, you have to pace up and down your beat for four hours with that knapsack on your back and a musket on your shoulder.”

“That can’t be very pleasant,” observed Don.

“Well, I am free to confess that it isn’t,” returned Clarence, “and it is all owing to the way the thing is managed. If they would let us perform the extra duty while the rest of the boys were drilling, or while the class in geometry was reciting, I should not mind it in the least. But you see they won’t do that. We have to work hard all the week, and walk our extras on Saturday afternoons during the hours that are given to the good little boys for cricket, ball-playing, fishing, target-shooting and recreations of that sort.”

“But overstaying our time was not the only offence of which we were guilty last night,” said Don, after a moment’s pause. “When we reached our room we struck a light, and I suppose we shall be reported for that.”

“Of course you will,” said Fisher. “You had no business to have a light in your room after taps.”

“But we didn’t think,” said Bert. “And, besides, we wanted to read our pass, so that we might know just what we had done that was wrong.”

“No odds,” exclaimed Clarence. “No excuse will be accepted. You will probably be gated for a month.”

“But you need not submit to the restriction of your liberty unless you feel like it,” chimed in Fisher. “Do as all the best fellows in school do – run the guard, and have a good time in spite of the teachers.”

“Oh, we’ll never do that,” said Bert, quickly. “Will we, Don? That would only make a bad matter worse.”

Don looked down at the floor, but said nothing. He always grew restive under restraint, and having been allowed when at home to go and come as he pleased, he could not bear the thought of being confined within bounds. If Fisher and Duncan had known what he was thinking about just then, they would have said that the success of the plans they had formed the night before was a foregone conclusion.

“Well, Gordon,” said Tom, at length, “everything is all square between us, I hope.”

“Certainly it is, so far as I am concerned,” answered Don. “And I know that Arkwright does not bear you any ill-will, for he said so. You fellows ought to make matters straight with him, for he is true blue. He took a good deal of pains to work his way back to the attic without being seen, for he didn’t want the teachers to know what you had done.”

“We’ll see him and have a talk with him,” said Tom, as he arose from the bed and picked up his cap. “Perhaps we had better go, Clarence. You know what will happen to us if we fail in our logic to-morrow. What do you think of the prospect?” he added, as soon as he and his crony had reached their own dormitory and closed the door behind them. “Will he bite?”

“I am sure of it,” was Duncan’s confident reply. “He is a fellow who doesn’t like to be held with too tight a rein – I can see that plainly enough; but Bert is a different sort of boy.”

“What do we care for Bert?” exclaimed Tom. “Don is the one we are after.”

“I know that, and I know, too, that we could get him very easily if his brother were out of the way. These little spooneys sometimes exert a good deal of influence over their big brothers, and if he sets his face against us and our plans, our cake will be turned into dough in short order.”

“We must see to it that Don doesn’t listen to him,” said Tom. “We have done all we can do to-day. We have given him an idea, and now we will let him chew on it for a while. We mustn’t appear to be too eager, you know, for if we give him the least reason to suspect that we are putting up a job on him, it is my opinion that he will prove an unpleasant fellow to have around.”

As Fisher said this he picked up his logic, in which both he and Duncan had failed miserably that day, and read in a listless, indifferent tone —

“What is true with limitations is frequently assumed to be true absolutely. Thus – ‘Deleterious drugs are always to be rejected; opium is a deleterious drug; therefore opium is always to be rejected.’ What’s wrong with that reasoning, Clarence?”

“I don’t know and I don’t care,” answered the latter, snatching the book from his friend’s hand and slamming it down upon the table. “Let it go until this evening, and then we will study it together. Let’s have a game of checkers now, and see if you can beat me as badly as you did the last time we played.”

“I don’t much like those fellows, Don,” said Bert, when Fisher and Duncan had taken their leave.

“I can’t see what there is wrong about them,” replied Don, who knew in a moment what his brother meant. “I am sure they acted very honorably in coming here to make things right with us.”

“I have nothing to say against that,” Bert hastened to answer. “But I don’t like to hear them talk so glibly about disobeying the rules.”

“I don’t know that that is any business of yours or mine either,” said Don, rather impatiently. “If they are willing to take the risk, and abide the consequences if they are detected, that is their own affair. You needn’t do it.”

“I!” exclaimed Bert, in great amazement. “You maybe sure that I have no intention of doing anything of the kind, and I hope you haven’t, either.”

“You need not waste any valuable time in worrying about me. I am able to look out for myself. But I’ll tell you what’s a fact, Bert: I don’t think as much of this military business as I did a few weeks ago. If I were only back home with my pony, dogs and guns, I tell you I would stay there. I feel more like going out in the woods and knocking over a wild turkey than I do like sitting here in this gloomy room preparing for to-morrow’s recitations.”

Don opened one of the books that lay upon the table, but the page on which he fastened his eyes might have been blank for all he saw there. His mind was not upon the work that demanded his attention. He was thinking over his recent interview with Fisher and Duncan.

“I wonder if they pass their evenings at Cony Ryan’s when they run the guards?” said Don to himself. “I wonder, too, if Cony’s hotel, or whatever he calls it, was in existence when my father attended this school, and if he went there to eat pancakes. If he did, I don’t see how he can find any fault with me if I go there. Tom and Clarence don’t seem to be such a bad lot, and it is nothing more than fair that I should meet their advances half way.”

When the hour for recreation came, Don did something he had never done before in his life. Watching his opportunity he slipped away from Bert and set out to hunt up Fisher and Duncan. He did not have much trouble in finding them, for they also were looking for him. After returning his salute they slipped their arms through his and led him toward the gymnasium.

“You are a stranger here,” said Clarence, “and as we know you must be lonely we will introduce you to the boys in our set, if you would like to know them.”

“You will find them all tip-top fellows,” added Tom. “You see, there is a little crowd of us who run together, and somehow we manage to have good times. There are some boys here, however, with whom we never have anything to do. We will point them out to you as fast as we can, so that you can steer clear of them.”

“They are high-toned lads,” said Clarence, “and won’t associate with any but the members of their own class. Some of them are preparing for West Point. They pride themselves on being soldiers all over; and if they can’t prove their soldierly qualities in any other way, they will report somebody.”

“Where’s your brother?” asked Tom, suddenly.

Don replied that he didn’t know where he was.

“I rather fancied that he didn’t exactly like what we said about running the guard a while ago,” continued Tom. “Did he?”

“No, he didn’t. He wouldn’t think of doing such a thing.”

“Well, then, he can make up his mind to be gated on an average of once a month as long as he stays here; for no matter how hard he tries, he can’t help breaking some of the rules. If he has a mind to submit to confinement – why, that’s his business and not mine.”

“I haven’t done it since I have been here,” said Fisher, emphatically; “and, what’s more, I won’t.”

“Where do you go when you run the guard?”

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