Uncle Sam's Boys in the Ranks: or, Two Recruits in the United States Army

"We mustn't let it have that effect on us," uttered Hal, half in alarm. "I am tired, but it would never do to fall asleep here and be late at tattoo. I don't know what kind of scrape that would get us into."

"Do you know," went on Noll, "this day's doings all seem like parts of a dream to me. I can't realize, yet, that I'm a soldier. I suppose it's because we haven't our uniforms yet."

"That has something to do with it, of course," nodded Hal. "I thought this a pretty good suit of clothes when I left home, but now I feel actually shabby and fearfully awkward when I look about me at older recruits in their snappy uniform. It'll really seem like a big load off my mind, Noll, when I find myself in the blue."

"The fellows tell me that a rookie generally has his first issue of uniform in about three days," said Noll. "That won't be so very long to wait."

"Won't it, though?" almost grumbled Hal. "Any time at all is too long to wait, when we've been dreaming so long about wearing the uniform."

"Why, we'd be a discredit to the uniform at present," smiled Noll. "Think how awkward we looked and felt, and were to-day. It seemed as though it were going to be simply impossible to learn the first steps of a soldier's business."

"We'll learn faster, now," suggested Hal; "now that Shrimp has gone out of our lives."

"Has he gone out of our lives, I wonder?" mused Noll.

"Say," hinted Hal, "I'd have given a lot to have seen Tip Branders drilling under Shrimp."

"I don't suppose we'll be very likely to see Tip again, for some years," suggested Noll.

In this he was in error, as will presently appear.

"How's the time running along, I wonder?" was Noll's next thought.

Hal drew his watch from a pocket, laid it on the ground, and struck a match, screening the blaze with his hands.

"We've nearly an hour yet," Overton answered.

"I don't know but we'd better go back before we have to," ventured Noll. "Hullo, there's a boat out there, putting in this way."

Though neither of the boys knew it some of the glow of the burning match had been visible in the darkness out on the water, and this boat was coming in answer to a fancied signal.

"I'm going to watch that boat a bit," whispered Hal in his chum's ear.

"Why?"

"Well, I don't believe it has any right to land here at night. Any boatman here on honest business ought to go around to the dock, I think."

"Pooh!" breathed Noll.

"Don't make any noise, anyway."

It was very dark, but the rookies could see a small rowboat head into the beach just a little way below them. There was one man in the boat, and he promptly sounded a low, cautious whistle. It was answered from behind the young recruits, somewhere. Then the sound of steps.

Some one was approaching, and the boatman, standing up in his craft, listened, then called in a low voice:

"That you, Sim?"

"Yep."

"Good!" answered the boatman. "I got your word, 'phoned from New York. I've got cit clothes for you in the boat, also a weight to sink your uniform with, when you make the change."

Now the newcomer trod down straight past the place of concealment of the boys. Something in his figure was wholly familiar.

"Why, that's Corporal Shrimp!" called Hal, springing up and running down toward the shore. Noll followed his chum on the instant, both arriving at once.

"Well, what do you rookies want here?" demanded Shrimp, turning upon them with an oath.

"I guess we're here on duty," clicked Hal resolutely. "You're supposed to be in arrest, Corporal, and here you are leaving the post on the sly!"

"I'm out of arrest, and on duty. Stand aside!" snarled Shrimp, his look becoming very ugly.

"Is it a kind of duty that calls for you to sneak away in this fashion, put on citizen's clothes, and sink your uniform in the bay?" demanded Private Overton mockingly. "If you tell me that, Corporal, I don't believe you."

Corporal Shrimp uttered another ugly oath. Then, with a flashing movement, he drew a service revolver from under his blouse and thrust the muzzle almost in Private Overton's face.

CHAPTER VII

WHEN THE GUARD CAME

"LOOK out, Sim Shrimp!" called the boatman quickly, warningly.

For, while Hal had stood looking gamely at the revolver, Noll Terry had side-stepped, and now leaped at the corporal.

Whack! Noll struck up the glinting barrel of the weapon.

Private Overton, seeming to move in the same instant, leaped forward in front.

Bang! The revolver was discharged, but harmlessly into the air, as both rookies tackled the corporal and bore him to the ground.

"Help, here, Bill!" cried Shrimp, as he found himself going over backward.

The boatman leaned over to snatch up an oar. As he rose with it he saw Private Hal Overton rise with the corporal's revolver in his hand.

"Stay where you are, Corporal, and don't make any fuss," advised Hal grimly. "Your friend had better stay where he is if he doesn't want to know what it feels like to have a bullet going through him."

"Drop that gun, and let me up! Get out of my way," ordered Shrimp. "You're interfering with me in the discharge of my duty, and I'll put you both in a lot of trouble."

"Don't you try to get up," ordered Noll, who had thrown himself across the corporal and was holding him down.

"Sentry!" yelled Hal. "Sentry."

He should have called, "Corporal of the guard!" but he didn't know that.

Another shot at some distance was heard, followed by a lusty shout from a sentry of:

"Corporal of the guard, post number seven!"

"Let me up out of this, and I'll let you both off," proposed Corporal Simeon Shrimp.