On Guard Part 16

Texas sprang up with a whoop that scared the sentry on the path nearby, and a "Wow!" scarcely less voluble. He demanded to know instanter what was up, and danced about anxiously until he managed to learn; when he did learn he was more excited still.

The Parson forgot his fossils, and even his "Dana" when he heard Mark's news, and he rose up and stretched his long, bony arms, inquiring with almost as much anxiety as Texas. In fact, the only one of the three who was not excited was "Sleepy." His state was that of the tramp, who answered: "Why did you come here?" "To rest." "What made you tired?"

"Gittin' here."

The two other members of the Banded Seven popped into the tent just then and Mark sat down and told them all of the yearlings' plan, as soon as he could manage to get the excitable Texas quiet enough. He pa.s.sed around the invitation which the rest stared at as incredulously as Mark had; and then he offered his explanation, and finding that they all seemed to agree with him, stated his purpose to retaliate, with which they agreed still more.

"Yes!" cried Texas. "Come on, let's do it. Let's bust up their ole hop!

Let's raise a rumpus an' scare 'em to death! What d'ye say?"

"I don't think we had better do that," responded Mark, laughing.

"Whatever trick we play has got to have something to do with hop, so as to let them know why we did it. But we broke up one entertainment not a week ago. I think it had better be a quiet trick on some of them, for you know they say that a man may play the same trick once too often."

"Let's hold up their ole band," suggested Texas, "an' run 'em into the woods an' hide 'em."

"Or else," laughed Mark, "we might dress up in the band players'

uniforms and go in and play hymns for 'em. But I think somebody ought to suggest something that's possible."

"Let's put glue on the floor," hinted Indian.

"Let's dress up as girls and go," laughed Dewey.

"Or make the Parson put in some of his chemicals, ye know, an' smoke 'em all out, bah Jove," put in Chauncey.

"B'gee!" cried Dewey. "That reminds me of another story. You fellows needn't groan," he added, "because this is a good one. And I'm going to tell it whether you like it or not. It's true, too. There was an old professor of chemistry gave a lecture, and there were whole lots of ladies present. We might work this trick some time. A good many of the complexions of those ladies weren't very genuine, b'gee, and not warranted to wear. And some of the chemicals the professor mixed made a gas that turned 'em all blue!"

Dewey breathed a sigh of relief at having been allowed to deliver himself of a whole story without interruption; and the Parson cleared his throat with a solemn "ahem!"

"The chemicals to which you refer," he began, "were probably a mixture of hydrofluosilicic acid with bitartrate of pota.s.sium and deflagisticated oxygen, which produces by precipitation and reduction a vaporous oxide of silicate of pota.s.sium and combines----"

"We've only half an hour left before drill," interrupted Mark solemnly.

"I move that the Parson discontinue his lecture until he'll have time to finish it."

The Parson halted with an aggrieved look upon his face; and after remarking the surprising lack of interest in so fascinating a subject as chemistry, buried himself in silence and "Dana's Geology."

"It seems to me," continued Mark, after a few minutes' pause, "that we haven't gotten very far in our planning. Now I have an idea."

The effect was that of a rainbow bursting through a stormcloud. The Seven were all smiles in an instant, and the Parson came out of his sh.e.l.l once more and leaned forward with interest.

"What is it?" he cried.

"It won't take long," said Mark, "to tell it. You may not like it. It'll take lots of planning beforehand if we do try it. It seems to me that the yearlings have set a trap for us, and want us to walk into it. Now, I think we might bid them defiance, and show how little we care for them, by going in right boldly and outwitting them in their own country, that's the plan."

The six stared at him in amazement.

"You don't mean," cried Dewey, "that Chauncey ought to go to the hop?"

"That's just exactly what I mean," was the answer. "And I mean, moreover, that we ought every one of us to go with him."

"But n.o.body'll dance with us, man!"

"They won't? That's just exactly the part we ought to fix. Grace Fuller will, for one, I'm sure. And I'm also sure she can find other girls who will. What do you say?"

They scarcely knew what to say. The proposition was so bizarre, so altogether startling. Plebes go to the hop! Why, the thought was enough to take a man's breath away. No plebe had ever dared to do such a thing in West Point's history. One might almost as well think of a plebe's becoming a captain! And here was Mark seriously proposing it!

They had a perfect right to go. They had an invitation, and no one could ask for more. But the freezing glances they would get from every one!

The stares, and perhaps insults from the cadets! Still, as Mark said, suppose Grace Fuller, the belle of West Point, danced with them? Suppose all the girls did? Suppose, swept away by the fun of "jollying" the yearlings, the girls should even prefer plebes! The more you thought over that scheme the better you liked it. Its possibilities were so boundless, so awe-inspiring! And suddenly Master Dewey leaped up with an excited "b'gee!"

"I'm one!" he cried. "I'll go you!"

"Wow!" roared Texas. "Me too!"

And in a few moments more those seven B. J. plebes had vowed to dance at the hop that night if it was the last thing they ever did on this earth.

"By George!" cried Mark, as they finished, leaping up and seizing his hat, "I'm going over to see Grace Fuller about it now! Just you wait!"

CHAPTER XV.

THE PLEBES PLOT, TOO.

Mark found the object of his search on the hotel piazza, looking as beautiful and attractive as his mind could imagine. As it proved, she was fully as anxious to see him as he was to see her; she was curious to hear about "Texas."

"So he has promised never to do it again!" she said, when Mark had told her of Powers' "reformation." "I thought he would do anything for you.

Poor Texas fairly worships the ground you walk on."

"He has promised never to drink, anyhow," responded Mark. "It was very funny to see how long it took him to get the idea into his head that it was wrong. It's just as I told you, and as I told the superintendent, too; down where he comes from it's the custom when a man wants to have fun he drinks all the whiskey he can to start him. And Texas thought he'd try it up here."

"He certainly did have fun," exclaimed the girl, breaking into one of her merry laughs at the recollection of the scene.

"I had been having a pretty exciting time myself," he said, "trying to keep Texas quiet. And when those huge horses took fright and started to dash into the crowd, I had still more of it."

"I think you were perfectly splendid!" cried the girl, clasping her hands in alarm even as she thought of the occurrence. "When you came dashing down on your horse and sprang in to head them off, my heart fairly stopped beating. But I knew you would do it; I have always said you would never stop at any danger, and father agrees with me, too."

There was a moment's silence after that; and then Mark, who was anxious to get at the important business of the morning, thought it a good time to begin.

"I've something more interesting to discuss, anyway," he added. "And I've only a very few minutes before drill in which to talk it over with you. I've taken the trouble to get a permit from headquarters and all to run over and ask you, so you mustn't delay me by compliments. That's my province, anyway--and duty."

"That was a very neat one," laughed Grace Fuller. "I declare, you are quite a cavalier. But excuse me for wasting the valuable time of the house. What is the matter?"

"I've a scheme," responded Mark.

The girl lost all her bantering manner in a moment; she saw the twinkle in Mark's eyes, and knew that some fun was coming.

"Is this another plan for worrying the unfortunate yearlings?" she inquired.