The evening was spent by the boys in packing their things and in otherwise getting ready for the encampment. There was, however, the usual song service at eight o’clock in the assembly room of the Hall, on this occasion presided over by a minister who had stopped at the Hall to visit his two nephews, who were pupils there. The minister was a good speaker, and he made an address which the cadets listened to with close attention.
Early in the morning came a sound that told all the cadets that the annual encampment was now at hand. Instead of the school bell ringing, there were the notes of two bugles ringing through the corridors. Then from outside came the vigorous rattle of several drums.
“Hurrah! No more studying! From now on we are soldier boys!” exclaimed Andy, and he bounced out of bed. “Get up, you sleepyheads!” And in the exuberance of his spirits he threw a pillow at his twin’s head. Randy returned the compliment by throwing a shoe at him, hitting Andy in the stomach.
“Hi! What’s this?” exclaimed Fred, scrambling up at the confusion.
“Over the top at the Huns!” shouted Andy, charging on Randy and sending him backward into a stand loaded with books. “Forward, the light brigade, and on to the gas attack!”
“Hi! You fellows are making altogether too much noise,” came from Jack. “Attention, company! Line up! Eyes right!”
“My! but don’t the bugles and drums sound fine?” was Fred’s comment, as he hurried into his new uniform, of which, it may be said privately, he was exceedingly proud.
“I suppose we won’t have a bit of fun at this outing, with a captain and a lieutenant keeping their eyes on us,” grumbled Andy; but, of course, he did not mean what he said.
“Sure, I’ll make you line up and toe the chalk mark,” answered Jack, with a grin. “You won’t dare to call your souls your own. If you infringe one fixed rule the sixteenth of an inch, I’ll place you in the guardhouse.”
“Yes, and we’ll feed you on nothing but dry bread and dry water,” added Fred.