“Good-night!” came solemnly from Randy. “Please lead me to the dungeon at once! What’s the use of looking at the sunshine and trying to smile!”
It had been decided that the cadets should march to Barlight Bay, which was about thirty-five miles distant. They were to take two days for the journey, stopping over night on the outskirts of the village of Rackville, where Captain Dale had already rented a farm field for that purpose. All of their belongings were to be transported in several motor trucks, engaged for that purpose, these trucks being under orders from the battalion quartermaster.
Of course, it must be understood by my young readers that Colby Hall was only a military school for boys, and that the military matters there, while conducted somewhat on the lines of those at West Point, were by no means so strict. The officers, from the young major down, were expected to do their duty the same as if they were at a government camp, but all were under the supervision of Captain Dale and the Hall professors.
More than this, the boys did not pretend to do any of the camp cooking or any of the menial camp labor, this being accomplished by hired helpers. And again, the officers were only officers while on parade or during special hours of duty—otherwise they were just like the other cadets and were treated accordingly.
There was the usual morning roll call, and also the drill and inspection, this time the latter being unusually severe, for Captain Dale wanted to make sure that everything was right before the cadets left the Hall. The parade around the grounds, however, was omitted, and the lads went in to their breakfast half an hour earlier than usual. Then it was announced that they would leave the Hall at exactly nine o’clock.
At the roll call and inspection it was a new thing for Jack to take command of Company C, and for Fred to fill the position of a lieutenant; but both acquitted themselves creditably, and for this received a nod of approval from Captain Dale.
On Sunday evening it had been rumored about that Gabe Werner had decided not to attend the encampment. This rumor had its foundation in the fact that the angular ex-lieutenant had sent a telegram to his father explaining the situation and stating he wanted to come home. In return, however, Mr. Werner commanded his son to remain at Colby Hall, and so, much against his will, Gabe was on hand when the cadets were ready to march away.
“But I ain’t going to do anything that I don’t want to do,” growled Gabe to Bill Glutts. “You just wait and see!”
“Maybe you’ll get a chance to make it warm for Jack Rover and his bunch,” suggested the wholesale butcher’s son.
“You bet!” answered Werner laconically.