Connell, to be sure, was one of the gallants of the corps all the summer through, and to Geordie's keen delight his Badger chum seemed to be universally popular in society, and though their tents were at opposite flanks, as were their posts in line of battle, they were seldom far apart when off duty. The two, with Benton, formed what Ames sometimes referred to as the Cadet Triumvirate. Benton made a capital adjutant, and the parades attracted crowds of visitors that, as August evenings grew longer, could hardly be accommodated.
Benny stopped one evening in front of the tent to say that his mother would be up on the morrow. "I have been calling at Dr. Brett's this afternoon, and they expect their relief next week. They've been here four years, you know."
It set Geordie to thinking. Medical officers of the army are seldom if ever kept more than four years at any one station, and his father had now been at Fort Reynolds fully five. Nearly all his professional life had been spent in the Far West. Three or four years he had been shifted about so rapidly and continuously that it was in partial recompense he had been retained so long at this big and pleasant post. "It must be about time for him to be shifted again," thought Geordie, "and now it's bound to be somewhere in the Division of the Atlantic." Odd! not for a whole month had the subject been mentioned in any of his home letters. His father rarely wrote more than a brief note; his mother never less than eight pages; and Bud's productions, curious compositions, were ever a delight to his big brother. But none of these had of late made any reference to change of station. How Geordie wished they might come East and visit the Academy now!
One week later, and the 28th of August was at hand. Camp was crowded, for the noisy furlough-men returned at noon, and were bustling about, making absurd pretence at having forgotten how to get into their "trimmings," and calling for some generous Fourth-hearted Class man to come and aid them. Visitors were swarming all over the post. Hosts of pretty girls had come for the closing hop, and the hotels were crowded to suffocation.
"Your mother promised to 'sit out' three dances with me, Benny," said Pops, as he wound himself into his sash, cadet fashion, as the first drum beat for parade. "Tell her I shall come early to claim them." How he envied the boy his mother's presence! Frazier nodded as he sped away to get into his belts, but with a light in his eyes and a laugh in his heart—very little like the Benny of the year gone by.
"Does Graham make as fine a first captain as we thought he would?" asked a returned furlough sergeant of one of the seniors, as they stood watching him quietly chatting with Benton before the beat of the second drum.
"Tip-top! I don't think there ever was a better one. But from the instant he draws sword in command of that battalion he doesn't know anybody."
Again the long line stretched beyond the flank sentry posts, and last parade in camp went off with the usual snap and spirit in face of hundreds of interested lookers-on. For the last time on that familiar sward the plumed cadet officers of Geordie's class marched to the front and saluted the commander, then scattered to their companies, while the visitors hastened to the waiting vehicles on the surrounding roads. No time could be lost this evening. It was that of the final hop. Ten minutes later, rifles, shakoes, and equipments laid aside, the battalion reformed on the color-line, the officers sprang to their posts, the field-music, still in full parade-dress and white trousers, took station at the left of the long gray line. Geordie whipped the light cadet sword from its scabbard, and his voice, deep and powerful, rang out the commands.
"Continue the march. Companies left wheel, march!"