Uncle Sam's Boys on Field Duty

"Field work? Hurrah!" shouted Private Terry, always eager to experience new phases of the soldier's life.

"You've never been off on field work, have you?" asked Hyman dryly.

"No; that's why I'm so pleased about it," Noll answered.

"And that's the only reason," added Hyman. "Take it from me that it's a period of hard work, tedious marching, blistered feet, aching muscles and all but crumbling bones. It's nothing but a big, torturesome hike through the mountains."

"I'll enjoy it," insisted Private Terry.

"Wait," advised Hyman.

Soon after the buglers of the post were sounding first call to afternoon parade. It was not until the men were falling in ranks that Bill Hooper and the morose Dowley heard about the coming tour of field duty.

"That will be our chance," muttered Hooper to Dowley, after the men had been dismissed at the conclusion of parade. The two were again by themselves, their scheming heads together.

"I don't believe the chance will be as good off in the field as it will be here at barracks," grunted Dowley.

"That's because you haven't been in the Army long enough to know," retorted big Bill Hooper.

"Blast the Army!" snarled Dowley.

"However did you come to enlist, anyway?" asked Hooper curiously.

"I had reasons of my own," replied Dowley shortly.

"Did the sheriff have anything to do with those reasons?" grinned Hooper darkly.

"Don't get too curious!" warned the other.

"Oh, I'm not nosey," laughed Hooper. "And we can't afford to quarrel. We're both pledged to getting Overton kicked out of the service."

"Are you sure that he and Terry really expect to work their way up to becoming commissioned officers?"

"I have it on the best of authority," declared Private Hooper.

"Whose?"

"Their own."

"Did they tell you so?"

"Not they! Those kids are too close-mouthed for that. At least, they didn't tell me direct, and I don't believe they've told any other enlisted men on the post. But I heard them talking it over, one day when they didn't know I was around. They expect to be made corporals before their first year is out. In three years they hope to be sergeants, and then they scheme to take the enlisted men's examination for commissions as second lieutenants."

"Lieutenants? Shave-tails?" guffawed Dowley. "Hooper, they'll never even be corporals. It's a bob-tail discharge for theirs!"

Second lieutenants, when their commissions are very new, are often referred to as "shave-tails." A "bob-tail" is a dishonorable discharge, after court-martial. To a real soldier a "bob-tail" means unspeakable disgrace.

"A bob-tail for theirs – yes, sir," repeated Private Dowley. "And I'm genius enough to bring it about!"

"Perhaps you won't need my help, for you sure are some smart," suggested Bill Hooper in a tone of pretended admiration.

"I'm smart enough to see that you'd drop out and use me as the catspaw," growled Private Dowley. "None of that, Bill! You'll stand right by and do half of the dirty work in exchange for half of the satisfaction. Between us we'll give that fool Overton a new middle name, and that middle name will be 'Bob-tail'!"

CHAPTER II

ON THE GREAT SUMMER HIKE

FROM up the mountain road one of a little group of officers ahead sent back an informal signal.

"B Company fall in!" called out Lieutenant Dick Prescott.

"C Company fall in!" followed Lieutenant Greg Holmes.

These two young West Pointers had been left temporarily in command of the companies with which they served.

Some hundred and eighty men rose from their by no means soft seats on the ground along the trail and fell into single file.

Another hand signal came down the trail.

"B Company forward, route step, march!" commanded Lieutenant Prescott.

"C Company forward, route step, march," echoed Lieutenant Holmes a moment later.

Tortuously the line moved forward once more. To one well up in the air that long line might have looked like a thin serpent trailing its way up the mountain side. But it was a very real, human line.

Each private soldier carried rifle, bayonet, cartridge belt, intrenching tool, canteen, haversack and blanket roll. It was a heavy pack. In addition, men here and there carried either a pick or a shovel.

Noll was carrying an extra shovel just now. Hal Overton had no such extra pack to-day, but all the day before he had toiled along with a pick added to the rest of his equipment.

What have soldiers to do with a pick and shovel? Theoretically these two companies now engaged on field duty were marching through a hostile country. After a battle the pick and shovel may be used for the work of burying slain comrades. Such tools are also useful in the swift digging of trenches in which to fight.

It was past the middle of the afternoon now, and the day of the week Monday. This little column was winding up the third day of its work in field.

As B Company traveled tediously along, Hal Overton was nineteenth man from the first sergeant. Noll was twentieth; directly behind Terry marched Private Hyman.

"Terry?" called Hyman in a low tone.

"Yes?" returned Noll.

"How do you like field work now?"

"Fine."

"You're a cheerful liar," growled Private Hyman.

"No, I'm not," laughed Noll. "I'm telling the truth."

"You really enjoy this hike?"