“He has been behind in his lessons for over a week,” answered a boy named Joe Nelson, a quiet and studious lad. “Yesterday Captain Putnam called him into the office for a talk. When Reff came out he looked pretty glum.”
“Must have gotten a strong lecture,” said Pepper. “And lectures don’t agree with such fellows as Ritter.”
“Do they agree with you, Pep?” asked the young major of the school battalion, with a twinkle in his eye.
“Me? Not much! I’d rather write a composition in Latin than face the captain for a lecture! But, just the same, you can be sure Ritter didn’t get it harder than he deserved.”
“There is nothing like blowing one’s own horn,” observed Fred Century. “And certainly Reff Ritter knows how to do that to perfection.”
“Time for drill, boys!” cried Jack Ruddy, as a bell rang out. “Now, do your best on the parade ground, even if you don’t know how to hit the target.” And off he ran to get ready to assume command of the Putnam Hall battalion.
The bell had hardly ceased to ring when there followed the rolling of a drum, and out on the school campus poured the students, in their neat military uniforms, and with their guns and swords polished to the highest degree. Major Jack Ruddy was at the head of the battalion, which consisted of Companies A and B, under the commands of Bart Conners and a youth named Henry Lee.
“Battalion attention!” commanded Major Jack, after the rattle of the drum had ceased. “Shoulder arms! Forward, march!” And then the drums beat, the fifes struck up a lively air, and the cadets began a march around the school grounds.
To those who have read the previous volumes of this “Putnam Hall Series,” the lads mentioned above will need no special introduction. For the benefit of others let me state that Putnam Hall Military Academy was a fine institution of learning, located on the shore of Cayuga Lake, in New York State. It was owned by Captain Victor Putnam, a retired army officer, who, in days gone by, had seen strenuous military service in the far West. It was modeled somewhat after West Point, our great national school for soldiery, but, of course, on far less pretentious proportions. The school building proper, located not far from the lake, was of brick and stone, and contained many classrooms, a big mess hall, a business office, library and sitting room, and, on the upper floors, many dormitories. Besides this building there were a gymnasium, a boathouse, a barn, and half a dozen minor structures. The location was ideal, exactly suited to such a school as Captain Putnam had established.
Jack Ruddy and Pepper Ditmore were chums, hailing from the western part of New York State. Jack was a little the older of the two and was inclined to be studious. Pepper was full of fun, and on this account was often called The Imp, a nickname that did not bother him in the least.