Uncle Sam's Boys as Sergeants: or, Handling Their First Real Commands

"May I tell Corporal Overton that, sir?" asked Noll eagerly.

"Yes; but caution him not to mention to others what I have said to you. You are also at liberty to tell Overton that Captain Cortland is wholly convinced of his innocence, and so, I know, is Lieutenant Hampton. But some of the men in the company, and more especially in the squad room, are holding aloof from Corporal Overton, are they not?"

"I wouldn't exactly say that they are doing it in a mean way, sir; but of course soldiers hate thieves, and so the merest taint of a suspicion serves to make some of the men feel rather shy about having anything unnecessary to do with Corporal Overton."

"Too bad!" murmured Lieutenant Prescott. Then, in his usual official tone:

"That is all, Corporal Terry."

Noll saluted and left the inner office. Almost immediately afterward Lieutenant Prescott sauntered out.

In the meantime, Hal, after some brisk practice at wig-wagging, was on his way back to barracks with Sergeant Hupner.

"You're going to make a real signalman, one of these days, lad," remarked the sergeant, kindly. "You have the speed, and you don't lose any of the clearness of your signaling when you go fast."

"It's great work," smiled Corporal Hal. "Just for the moment it makes me almost sorry that I didn't enlist in the signal corps."

"The infantry is the real branch of the service – the real fighting arm," returned Sergeant Hupner.

"Yes; I know it, and that's the principal reason why I chose the infantry before enlisting."

Together the sergeant and his young corporal entered the barracks, stepping into their own squad room.

There the very first person they met was Private William Green, looking, still, as though he wanted to burst into tears. Green hadn't smiled once since meeting with his big loss.

"Good afternoon, Sergeant," was Green's greeting. He didn't seem to see Hal at all, a fact that the boyish soldier noted instantly. It cut like a whip to know that Green really suspected his young corporal.

Hal stepped down the length of the squad room. Some of the men greeted him, though none very enthusiastically.

Then Noll came in, drawing his chum aside and detailing the interview with Lieutenant Prescott.

That brightened Hal Overton a good deal. In the middle of the squad room some of the men were having a jolly time, and laughing heartily. Down at the further end of the room, near the door, mournful William Green kept by himself and grieved.

"It's certainly fine to know that one's officers trust him, anyway," Hal declared.

"Oh, this abominable business will all be cleared up before long," Noll Terry predicted cheerily.

"I'd like to believe you," Corporal Hal smiled wistfully.

"Wait and see!"

The merriment in the middle of the room was now going on at its height. Private Clegg, who was an excellent storyteller, was relating one of his very very best, and it bore on Army life.

Hal and Noll took chairs at one of the writing tables.

A few minutes later a wild whoop sounded from Private William Green.

"I've got it! I've got it!" he yelled, dancing about like a crazy Indian.

"A bat in your belfry? Sure you've got it," yelled Private Clegg.

Sergeant Hupner had run over to where Green was dancing.

"I've got the money. It has come back to me," sang William Green joyously.

In an instant there was a curiosity-inspired rush that every man in the room shared.

Private Green now held high aloft over his head a long envelope whose bulkiness everyone else could see.

"It's the money!" he gasped, chokingly.

"Every man in the room but Green fall in!" roared Sergeant Hupner's voice. "Corporal Terry, take charge of the formation!"

There was a queer, strained hush in the room for the next few moments. Hardly anything was heard but the low breathing of the men, or the few crisp, quiet words of Corporal Noll as he made the men dress their alignment on Corporal Hal, who stood at the right of the line.

"Hold your men so," nodded Sergeant Hupner tersely. "Now, Green, are you sure you have all your money back?"

"I – I hope so," faltered Green. "The envelope is bulky enough."

"Put it on your cot and let me see it," ordered Hupner.

Green had already broken the flap of the envelope, revealing the edges of a considerable thickness of banknotes.

"Why, there's a note here with the bills," proclaimed the excited soldier.

"What does the note say?"

"It says 'Friend, you'll find all your money here except twenty dollars that I spent. Meant to keep it all, but found stolen money brings no pleasure. Hope you'll forgive me.'"

"What does the writing look like?" demanded Sergeant Hupner.

"It ain't written; it's printed," replied Private Green. "Here, take the note and look at it."

Sergeant Hupner did glance at the note briefly, but here he felt he would find no clue. After all, a man's printing does not closely resemble his writing.

"Anything written on the envelope?" demanded the sergeant, holding out his hand. Yes; the envelope contained the inscription, "Pvt. Wm. Green." That was all; but it wasn't printed. The words were written in bold, flowing handwriting. Sergeant Hupner felt a throb as he glanced at the handwriting on that envelope. But he knew his duty.

"Corporal Terry, go to the nearest window and have the sentry pass the word for the corporal of the guard!"

Then Hupner asked one more question:

"Green, where and how did you find this envelope?"

"Just the moment before I helloed. It was tucked inside my bedding, so that just the end of the envelope showed."

Quickly the corporal of the guard was on hand, accompanied by two privates of the guard. Sergeant Hupner explained what had happened, adding:

"Corporal, I think you'd better send for the officer of the day."

That officer of the day, who shortly arrived, was Lieutenant Ray of C company.

He listened gravely, while Sergeant Hupner told the story, then asked a few questions of Private Green.

"Sergeant," directed Lieutenant Ray, "start the envelope passing down the line. Each man is to look at the handwriting, and state whether he recognizes it."

All this time the men had remained standing in line, though at ease.

Sergeant Hupner, with a queer look, passed the envelope to Corporal Hal Overton, who stood at the right of the line.

The instant he glanced at the writing Hal started, then changed color.

"Do you know the writing on that envelope, Corporal Overton?" demanded the officer of the day, eyeing the young soldier.

"Yes, sir."

"Are you positive that you know whose writing it is, Corporal Overton?"

"Yes, sir."

"Whose?"

"Mine, sir," replied Corporal Hal.

CHAPTER VI

THE SQUAD ROOM TURNS COLD

ON the listening men the effect of this admission was that of a bombshell.

Yet, because they were soldiers, they took their bombshell quietly.

Lieutenant Ray was astounded, yet his voice did not quiver as he asked, briskly:

"Then, Corporal Overton, you admit having addressed the envelope?"

"Yes, sir."

"When?"

"I don't know, sir."

"Don't trifle with me, Corporal!"

"I am not, sir."

"Yet you admit having addressed it?"

"Yes, sir; I believe this to be my writing beyond a doubt. Yet, sir, I have no recollection of having written this address. All I know is that it is my handwriting."

"Sergeant, dismiss your men," directed Lieutenant Ray, as he reached out and took the envelope. "Corporal Overton, you will not leave the room."

"Is the corporal under arrest, sir?" asked Sergeant Hupner, in a quiet voice.

"No, Sergeant. But I wish to have him immediately at hand, in case the company, battalion or regimental commanders wish to see him. When the men fall in for supper formation, if Corporal Overton has not been summoned by an officer, then let him march to mess with the rest, but he must return here immediately after the meal."

"Very good, sir."

Lieutenant Ray withdrew, followed by the corporal and privates of the guard.

"I am not forbidden to speak to other men, am I, Sergeant?" asked Hal Overton, going directly up to him.

"You are not in any sense in arrest, Corporal," replied Hupner, then adding, in a lower voice:

"And I hope you'll do some mighty hard thinking, lad, and be able to give a very straight account about that envelope."

"Sergeant, as I am in no way guilty of any part in the robbery, I do not believe that there will be much trouble about being able to make an explanation when I have had time to think."

"I hope you're right, Overton, for I haven't an idea in the world that you are, or could be, a thief."

"Thank you, from the bottom of my heart, Sergeant."

Private William Green sat on a stool near the head of his cot, counting his recovered money for the third time.

"Is it all there, Green?" asked Corporal Hal, going over to the soldier.

"All but the twenty dollars that it is supposed to be shy," replied Green rather gruffly and without looking up.

"Green, I hope you haven't an idea that I'm the crook," Hal went on.

"Of course not. But there's a stack of appearances against you, just the same," replied William Green dryly.

"See here!" Hal spoke sharply, the pain ringing in his voice. "Do you really believe that I stole your money in the first place?"

"I've got most of it back, and I'd rather not express any opinions, Corporal," was Green's evasive reply.

Just at this instant Corporal Noll Terry joined the pair.

"William," chuckled Noll, "the men have got up a new name for you. Instead of calling you William Green they're going to nickname you 'Long Green' after this."

"Let 'em," grunted Private Green briefly, and without a sign of understanding the slangy joke.

Hal turned away, a choking feeling in his throat, though his outward demeanor was brave enough.

"Clegg, and the rest of you," began Overton, stopping by a group of the soldiers, "will you all do your best to try to remember some time when I may have had occasion to address an envelope to Green?"

Clegg stopped talking with his comrades, half-wheeled about, looked the young corporal steadily in the eyes, then turned back once more to carry on his talk with the other soldiers.

Hal Overton's face went deathly pale.

This was the direct cut, the snub, from his mates of the squad room.

After that Hal would make no advances to any man in the room who did not first signify that he believed in the hapless corporal.

"Don't mind 'em, Hal," muttered Noll soothingly, coming up behind his bunkie at the far end of the squad room. "They're only human, and you will have to admit that, just for the moment, all things being taken into consideration, that appearances do hit you a bit. But the whole thing will all be straightened out before long."

"Will it?" asked Hal almost listlessly. He had to speak thus, to prevent the sob in his throat from getting into his voice. For, soldier though he was, and a rarely good one, he was still only a boy in years, and this air of suspicion in the squad room made all life look wholly dark to him.

"Surely all will come right," insisted Noll. "You've plenty of good friends around here."

"You and Sergeant Hupner," smiled Corporal Overton bitterly. "But at least, old chap, you two make up in quality what you lack in numbers."

The call for mess formation rang at last. Corporal Hal went to his place in the company line as briskly as ever.

Just as the men were passing Corporal Hyman hit Hal a clip on the shoulder.

"Buck up, old spinal trouble!" urged Hyman heartily, in a low voice. "Don't disappoint every friend and true believer you've got."

There were a few others who were openly friendly in the company mess, but Hal could force only a few mouthfuls of food and a cup of tea down his throat that night.

At a little after eight o'clock an orderly of the guard came striding into the squad room to inform Overton that Colonel North would see him at the officers' club.

Thither Hal went. When he reported he was directed to a little smoking room that stood just off the dining room. When Hal knocked and entered at command he found Colonel North there, flanked by Major Silsbee and B company's officers.

Colonel North had the accusing envelope and the note in the printed scrawl in his hand.

"Come in, Corporal," called the regimental commander. "I sent for you to inquire whether you have yet thought of any way of accounting for this envelope being in your handwriting."

"I have not, sir," Hal answered.

"Take the envelope and look at it."

Hal Overton obeyed.

"Do you think it likely, Corporal, that the writing on that envelope is a forged imitation of your own handwriting?"

"It is possible, sir, of course," Hal made frank, direct reply. "Yet, sir, I am inclined to believe that the writing is really mine."

"Hand me back the envelope. Now, go to the table over there, where you will find an envelope. Take up the pen and direct another envelope in just the words that this is addressed."

"I've done so, sir," replied Hal, a moment later.

"Now in the lower corner of the envelope write the words, 'My own writing, Overton.'"

"Yes, sir; I've done it."

"Bring the envelope to me, Corporal Overton."

Colonel North now compared the writing on the two envelopes, then passed them to the other officers present, who carefully examined these exhibits.

"The writings look identical, sir," was Captain Cortland's comment.

"Yes," agreed Major Silsbee. The other younger officers nodded.

"Corporal," went on Colonel North – and now there was a world of real sympathy in his voice as he looked at this fine young soldier – "this is a very painful happening. Some slight, surface indications are against you, but to me it looks as though some one else had hatched up the circumstances so that they would seem bound to smite you. Of course, to everyone but yourself, there is a possibility that you may be guilty. It may please you, however, to know, Corporal, that you still possess the confidence of all your officers."

"Then, sir, I thank all my officers."

"In this country, Corporal," continued Colonel North, "every man is presumed innocent until he has been proven guilty. In your own case you are not only not proven guilty, but you are not even accused. Nor, on any such evidence as we yet have before us could any accusation be made with any hope of being able to prove you guilty. I do not for a moment believe you guilty. You have too fine a record as a soldier for any such belief to find acceptance without the strongest, most positive proof."

"There is something that Captain Cortland and I have had in mind to do for you. The present time, therefore, seems an especially suitable one for showing the full measure of our confidence in you, Corporal. Of course, if any evidence came up that would sustain a charge of crime against you, then what we are thinking of doing could be very easily undone at need. Corporal Overton, at parade, to-morrow afternoon, your appointment as sergeant in B company will be announced."

Hal started, colored, then turned pale.

"I – I thank you, sir," he stammered. "But – but – "

"Well, my man?" inquired the colonel kindly.

"Pardon me, sir, but wouldn't the appointment be better made at some later date?"

"Why?" shot out Colonel North.

"I fear I may not have as much force with a squad room as a sergeant should have, sir."

"Then you will have to develop that force," replied Colonel North dryly. "It's in you, I know."

Poor Hal! At any other time this much-wanted promotion would have been hailed joyfully. Now it seemed almost like wormwood.

CHAPTER VII

BACKING THE NEW SERGEANT

"CORPORAL OVERTON, B company, is hereby appointed a sergeant in the same company, the appointment to take effect immediately. Sergeant Overton's company commander will assign him to the charge of a squad room in B company."

That was published with the orders the very next afternoon, at parade.

It came with startling suddenness to most of the men in B company. Noll was the only one who had been warned in advance, and he had held his peace.

Only one other man in the battalion had known it, and that was Grimes, the grimly silent private who sold goods in the quartermaster's store. Of Grimes, Hal had already purchased the necessary sergeant chevrons that he might have them ready.

"On dismissal of the company Sergeant Overton will at once report to me," announced Captain Cortland.

Hal, therefore, on falling out of ranks, went directly to his company commander, saluting.

"You are to have charge of the squad room next to Sergeant Hupner's," began the captain, pleasantly.

"Very good, sir."

"And now, my lad, don't feel at all down cast over some circumstances that have come up in barracks," continued the captain, resting a friendly hand on the new young sergeant's shoulder. "Take firm charge of your squad room from the outset. Force your men to respect as well as obey you. You will have all the necessary countenance of your officers. Do your duty as a soldier, as you have always done, and do not allow yourself to entertain fears of any kind."

"Thank you, sir. I shall do as you direct."

"I know it, Sergeant Overton. I have confidence in you. Now, I am going to step down to your new squad room with you."

If Hal Overton quaked just a bit as he rested his right hand on the door of the room in which he was henceforth to rule, nothing in his bearing betrayed the fact.

He threw open the door for Captain Cortland to pass in ahead of him, at the same time calling clearly:

"Squad room, attention!"

Captain Cortland strode in among his men, who, halting where they were, faced toward him and stood at attention.

"Men," called Captain Cortland, "this is your new sergeant. He will be obeyed and respected accordingly."

Then Captain Cortland turned and left the room.

Corporal Hyman, who belonged in this room, came forward at once, holding out his hand.

"Aren't you the lucky one, Sergeant!" cried Hyman. "But I'm glad you got the step up. You've won it. Well, we're all here. Fall to and reorganize us, Sergeant."

"There will have to be very little of that, I imagine, Corporal Hyman," replied the boyish young sergeant, smiling. "The room has been running all right, hasn't it?"

"So-so," laughed Corporal Hyman. "But I believe that some of these buck doughboys need a bit of jacking up."

Corporal Hyman turned, with a grinning face, toward the men. But none of them were looking that way at the moment. Every other man in the room appeared interested in some other subject than the new sergeant.

"Go for 'em," muttered Hyman grimly under his breath. "It's a shame for you to have to stand for this sort of thing, kid! Pound 'em into shape. Make 'em stand around for you."

"I will, in matters of discipline and routine, whenever necessary," Sergeant Hal answered, in an equally low voice. "But if the men don't care for me personally that's another matter. I'll never persecute any soldier just because he doesn't like me."

"It's all that cursed misunderstanding over 'Long Green,'" muttered Corporal Hyman. "Of course you can't very well make a yell about it, but I see several fights on my hands from right now on, until I've gotten these buck doughboys licked into a proper appreciation of the new boss of their squad room."

"Don't have any fights on my account, Hyman," urged Sergeant Hal.

"Well, I won't, then," came the dry retort. "I'll have a few good fights on my own account, then, for it's a personal grievance when the men turn down a man that I like."

The conversation was interrupted, at that moment, by the in-coming of First Sergeant Gray.

"I'm glad over your rise, Overton," beamed the first sergeant. "And it has come quickly. I'm here to warn you for guard duty. You'll report at guard mount to-morrow morning as sergeant of the guard."

"That does come rather speedily, doesn't it?" laughed Hal. "Who is to be officer of the day to-morrow?"

"Lieutenant Ferrers," responded Sergeant Gray gravely.

"What? The joke to be officer of the day?" exploded Corporal Hyman.

"Corporal," came the first sergeant's swift, serious rebuke, "whenever you allude to your superior officers you'll do so with the utmost respect."

"My flag's down," replied Corporal Hyman. "I surrender. But, Sergeant, is there anything in the blue book of rules against my going away in a corner for a quiet laugh."

"No," rejoined Sergeant Gray stiffly, and Hyman left them.

"Of course you understand, Sergeant Overton," went on Sergeant Gray, "that a little more than the usual responsibility will devolve upon you to-morrow. You know how new Lieutenant Ferrers is to the Army. You may be able quietly to prevent him from doing something foolish – some little hint that you can give him you know."

"I'll have my eyes open," Sergeant Hal promised.

Sergeant Gray warned two other men in the room to report for guard duty in the morning, then went to Sergeant Hupner's room to warn others. Hal turned out the squad at mess call. By this time the new young sergeant had sewed on his new chevron, the outward sign of his promotion.

Through most of the evening Hal and Hyman sat apart by one of the writing tables, chatting by themselves. Since the men had shown open dislike of the new sergeant Hal did not force himself upon them. Finally, however, the fun started by some of the men becoming altogether too rough and noisy.

"Squad room attention!" shouted Sergeant Hal, leaping to his feet. Corporal Hyman, too, jumped up.

All of the men came instantly to attention. Some of them looked merely curious, but a few glared back at their new sergeant.

"Some of you men have been more noisy and rough than is warranted by a proper sense of freedom in barracks," Hal said quietly but firmly. "Fun may go on, but all real disorder will cease at once, and not be resumed. That is all."

Hal turned to resume his seat at the table. But from three or four men in the center of the room, as they turned away, came a muffled groan.

That sign of insubordination brought the young sergeant to his feet once more in an instant. His under lip trembled slightly, but he strode in among the men.

"Men, I've something to say to you," announced the new sergeant coolly. "I intend to preserve discipline in this squad room, though I don't expect to do it like a martinet. Some of you groaned, just now, when my back was turned. Soldiers of the regular Army are men of courage. No real man fights behind another man's back. Has any man here anything that he wishes to say to my face?"

It was a tense moment. Three or four of the men looked as though tempted to "say a lot."

Sergeant Hal, his hands tightly gripped, stood facing them, waiting.

Nearly a score of feet away Corporal Hyman stood negligently by. There was nothing aggressive in his manner, but he was ready to go to the support of his sergeant.

"Has any man here anything that he wishes to say to me?" Hal repeated.

Still silence was preserved.

"Then let us have no more child's play by those who are old enough to be men twenty-four hours in a day," warned Overton crisply.

He hadn't said much, but his look, his tone and manner told the men that he was in command in that room, and that he intended to keep the command fully in his own hands.

There was no further trouble that night, though the young sergeant could not escape the knowledge that he was generally disliked here.

When guard-mounting assembly sounded at nine the next morning Sergeant Hal Overton marched the new guard on to the field.

Battalion Adjutant Wright was on hand, but Lieutenant Algy Ferrers, the new officer of the day, was absent.

The adjutant turned, scanning the ground between there and officers' row. There was no sign of Lieutenant Ferrers, and in the Army lack of punctuality, even to the fraction of a minute, is a grave offense.

"Orderly," directed Adjutant Wright, turning to a man, "go to Lieutenant Ferrers' quarters and direct him, with my compliments, to come here as quickly as he possibly can."

The orderly departed on a run. But he soon came back, alone.

"Sir, Lieutenant Ferrers is not in his quarters?"