"Jinks!"
"Yes, sir."
"Here is an order for you to report at once up in the woods at old Fort Hut. The password is 'Old Gory'; say that, and the sentinel will let you out of camp. Go along and report to the colonel at once."
"What is it?" cried Sam. "Is it an attack?"
"Very likely," said the voice. "Now wake up your snoring friend there, for he's got to go too. What's his name?"
"Cleary," answered Sam, and he proceeded gently to awaken his tent-mate and break the news to him that the enemy was advancing. It was not easy to rouse the young man, but finally they both succeeded in dressing in the dark, and hastened away between the tents across the most remote sentry beat. They were duly challenged, whispered the countersign, and in a few moments were climbing the rough and thickly wooded hill to the fort.
"I wonder who the enemy is," said Sam.
"Enemy? Nonsense," replied Cleary. "They're going to haze us."
"Haze us? Good heavens!" said Sam. He had heard of hazing before, but he had been living in such a realm of imagination for the past weeks that the gossip had never really reached his consciousness, and now that he was confronted with the reality he hardly knew how to face it.
"Yes," said Cleary, "they're going to haze us, and I wonder why I ever came to this rotten place anyhow."