And so the afternoon wore away, and the excitement increased. Jennings was in his glory.
"It'll be a beauty," was the way he expressed himself. "That plebe's a plucky one. I may have to give him a lesson myself yet." And he bared his magnificent arm, and complacently regarded the bulging biceps.
"If it's two years from now when he tries it on," remarked Mr. Otis, when Jennings's remarks were repeated to him, "may I be there to see! It's my belief Mr. Jennings will get a lesson he richly deserves."
Despite every effort to keep the details secret, nine-tenths of the corps knew that the fight was to come off in Fort Clinton during supper-time, and such was the eagerness to see the affair that, despite the urgings of Mr. Ross, the referee, and Mr. Jennings, no less than thirty or forty old cadets fell out after parade, as they were then allowed to do in case they did not care to go to the mess-hall. It was a hot night, too, and so short was the time between evening-gun fire and the opening waltz that many of the corps were in the habit of "cutting supper." The thinned ranks of the battalion, therefore, conveyed no meaning to the officer in charge. Jauntily the gray and white column went striding away across the Plain, drums and fifes playing merrily. Pops never hears the jolly notes of "Kingdom Coming" now without feeling again the throbbing of his heart as he quickly doffed his gray trousers and donned a pair of white, so as to be in uniform with the older cadets, Connell doing the same. Benny and Foster, though mad with excitement, had been ordered to go to supper. The absence of so many from one table would have aroused suspicion. One or two plebes in C and D Companies determined to be on hand to see Graham through, though rare indeed are there cases of unfair play. They had borrowed old dress-coats and white trousers. Mr. Ross had duly seen to it that at a certain moment the sentries on Three and Four should be at the distant end of their respective posts and facing away from Fort Clinton, and as the battalion disappeared down the leafy avenue by the "Old Academic," Mr. Otis came to Graham's tent.
"Now's your time, lad, and I've only one piece of advice—clinch and throw him as quick as you can."
Two minutes later, all on a sudden, some thirty or forty nimble young fellows appeared at the northeast corner of the camp, darted across the north end of Number Four's post while that sentry was absorbed fifty yards away in a 'bus-load of ladies going back to Cranston's after parade, and in less time than it takes to write it they were over the grass-grown ramparts of the old fort, and grouped about the shaded nook near the Kosciusko monument, the scene of hundreds of storied battles. Only two styles of combat were recognized at the Point in Geordie's day—only honest fighting could be tolerated at any time, but it was the right of the challenged cadet to say whether it should be fought to a finish from the word, without time or rounds of any kind, taking no account of falls or throws—the old-fashioned "rough-and-tumble," in fact—or else by the later method of the Marquis of Queensbury rules. The slow and cumbrous system of the old London prize-ring had long since been abandoned.
Acting on Mr. Otis's advice, Connell had decided on the first-named, as giving less chance for Woods's science and more for Geordie's strength. And now, while in silence the eager spectators ranged themselves about the spot, the two young fellows threw aside coats and caps, and with bared chests and arms stepped forward into the open space among the trees, where stood Mr. Ross awaiting them. Each was attended by his second. Jennings eyed Geordie, and in a gruff, semi-professional style, ordered: "Show your foot there! No spikes allowed." Graham flushed, but held up, one after the other, the soles of his shoes to show that they were smooth.
"It seems to me that your man has no business wearing tennis-shoes," said Connell. "Rubber soles give him an advantage on this turf. I protest!"
Ross shook his head, but suddenly another voice was heard, and a new figure joined the group. A light shot into Graham's face. He recognized Mr. Glenn, the cadet adjutant who had so commended him at guard-mounting.