“I won’t promise anything!” growled Pug.
“Then you’ll sit there until you do,” observed Ned. There is no telling how long this deadlock might have kept up, but at this point Sergeant Mandell, who had been in the smoking car, came back to see how his recruits were getting on. He took in the scene at a glance.
“Let him up, Slade,” he ordered Ned. “And you, Kennedy, keep quiet. Remember you’re soldiers now, and you must obey your superiors. For the time being I am your officer, though I want to be your friend, too. Now what’s the row?”
It was explained in various ways, but all agreed that Kennedy had struck first, and with little provocation, for Bob’s action, though thoughtless, poking his hands into the pockets of another lad, had been innocent enough.
“You had no right to hit him for that,” declared the sergeant. “But I am not saying that Baker did exactly right, either. Though it was natural for him to want his crullers.”
With mutterings and growls, Pug Kennedy shook himself after Ned let him up, and slunk into his seat, away from the others. Ned, Bob, and Jerry went back to their places, and quiet was once more restored.
“Bob, old man, I’m sorry,” said Ned. “It was my fault. I did take your crullers, but I haven’t ’em now. I passed ’em down the line as a joke. I’ll see if I can get ’em back.”
“Let ’em go, I don’t want ’em,” growled Bob.
It was perhaps a good thing he did not want them, since the crullers had been eaten. When Ned learned that he offered to buy some more at the next lunch counter.
But there was no time for this, as Sergeant Mandell said they would soon reach Yorktown, where they would be quartered until they could be more carefully examined and a decision arrived at as to where to send them for preliminary training.