The capes were of blue oilcloth, and buckled at the throat. The caps also were of oilcloth, but red, and were round, with a flat top and heavy visor. The torches consisted of a long staff, at the end of which swung a can containing kerosene and a wick.
As soon as they were clear of the room the boys donned their rigs. The capes came down to their knees; and since in their haste they had not taken account of size, their caps were far too large, and spun about on their crowns. Paper, a tremendous quantity, having been stuffed under the bands inside, then, with their caps still wobbly, but with their capes rustling and their torches proudly held aloft, the two brave marchers descended to the street.
Even during their brief stay while getting their outfit, a change had taken place in the aspect of the world without. Darkness had fallen, and torches were being called into life, right and left.
“Let’s light up!” proposed Hal.
“Let’s,” seconded Ned.
This was as easily done as said; they simply applied their wicks to the lighted wick of the next good-natured man whom they met—and good nature was everywhere to-night—and now, with torches blazing, they were fully in trim for the parade.
The procession was forming. On horseback marshals, distinguished by a sash passing from one shoulder diagonally across the chest and under the opposite arm, dashed up, and wheeled and dashed down again. Horns gave preliminary, erratic toots, and drums broke in with sudden rolls. Flambeaux flamed forth, and died out. Transparencies bobbed hither and thither, upon invisible legs. Marching clubs stood at ease, while their members jested and waited. The air was filled with kerosene smoke and echoing voices.
Ned and Hal, holding their heads stiffly lest their caps should tumble off, and wrapped in their blue capes like a cattle-man in his poncho, sped to the corner mentioned by The Clarion as the meeting place of the “unattached.” Here had gathered about fifty other blue capes and red caps, and the number was slowly being swelled.
“Hi there!” hailed a marshal, spurring to them. “You men close in, in column of fours, on the rear of the procession, as it passes by.”
Off he tore again, while Ned and Hal felt not a little elated at having been classed among the “men.”