“I’m sorry to say that I don’t know where he is,” replied Bert, who then went on to give a hurried history of Don’s exploits at the show, as reported by Corporal Mack. Mrs. Gordon listened with a shade of anxiety on her face, but the general laughed heartily.
“Boys will be boys,” said he. “And so long as Don doesn’t break any of the rules of the school, or carry his fun too far, where is the harm? The superintendent thinks that he and Egan have played their parts as deserters very well, and I think so, too. I should like very much to see him, but I suppose I shall have to wait until he gets ready to come in.”
“You will not go home until you do see him, will you?” said Bert.
“O, no. We shall not return to Mississippi until you and Don can go with us, and then we shall have company. Young Egan, Hopkins, and Curtis are to spend a month at our house. I have just been talking with their fathers about it.”
Bert was delighted to hear that this matter had been definitely settled, and he wished that Don had been there to hear it too. He little dreamed that his brother and Egan, who were at that very moment laying their plans for getting into camp, were destined to be waylaid and taken captive by those who had every reason for holding fast to them; but such was the fact.
As Bert was to be off duty until midnight he had ample opportunity to visit with his father and mother. He walked about the fortifications with them, told them amusing and interesting stories of his life at the academy, and ate supper with them in the big tent. When all had satisfied their appetites with the good things that had been provided for them, the tables were taken out, the Chinese lanterns that hung suspended from the wires overhead were lighted, the music struck up and the dancing began. Everybody, young and old, seemed bent on having a good time, and the fun grew fast and furious. For an hour everything passed off smoothly, and then there came a most unexpected and alarming interruption—the ringing report of a musket, followed[followed] it made the cold chills creep over every one who heard it. The music ceased, and the dancers stood still in their places and looked at one another. There was a moment’s hush, and then a whole chorus of blood-curdling yells, such as no one in that company had ever heard before, rang out on the still air. They seemed to come from all sides of the camp, and their effect was most startling. The ladies screamed and ran to their husbands for protection; the gentlemen stood irresolute, each one gazing inquiringly into the face of his neighbor, and the students were thrown into a stupor from which they were quickly aroused by the roll of the drum, and loud cries of “Fall in! Fall in!”
“O, my boy, you mustn’t go out there,” exclaimed Mrs. Gordon, as Bert dashed forward to obey the order. Her face was very white, and she clung to her husband for support.
“Let him go,” said the general. “If he has any pluck at all, now is the time for him to show it.”
He did not know what the matter was—there were few in that camp who did—but he was a soldier. When he was in the service he had yielded prompt and willing obedience to every order given him by his superiors, no matter how great the danger he might incur by so doing, and he wanted his boys to do the same thing. Bert proved that he had inherited a goodly share of his father’s courage, for, although he was badly frightened, he lost not a moment in obeying the order to fall in. He ran into the guard-tent and seized his musket; but, to his great surprise, he found that the bayonet that belonged to it was gone. In fact the bayonets were all gone, and the pieces were stacked by the ramrods. Utterly at a loss how to account for this, Bert caught up the weapon and ran to join his company, which was forming on the street in front of its own tents.
“Fall in!” commanded the boy captain. “Right dress!—Front! Order arms!—Fix bayonets!”