The young officer entered the room, and the teacher continued—
“Here’s another raw recruit for you, captain. His name is Newcombe, and he belongs to dormitory H, number thirteen.”
Captain Preston pulled a memorandum-book from his pocket, and, after writing down Tom’s name and number, he turned to the new student and said:
“To-morrow afternoon, at three o’clock, I shall expect to see you in the armory.”
This was all the captain thought it was then necessary to say; but it was enough to make Tom his enemy. The officer was at least two years younger than the new student, and the latter did not like the idea of being obliged to obey his orders. Tom also noticed that the teacher had addressed him in the most respectful language; that he had said, “Step this way, if you please,” and that was another thing that made him angry. It also had the effect of making him more determined than ever to get out of the ranks, if there was any possible way for him to do it.
As Tom started to return to his quarters, he heard the roll of a drum calling the students to dress parade—an exercise in which all the scholars who had learned the manual of arms were required to engage. The young soldiers came out of their rooms, and, after taking their muskets from the armory, each company was formed by its officers in front of the building, and marched to the parade ground. The principal stood on the porch watching these movements, and, when the battalion was marched away, he followed it, accompanied by Tom and a few more raw recruits, who were not expected to join in the review.
The students kept step admirably to the music of drum and fife; every order was executed promptly and without the least confusion; and Tom was delighted with all he saw. When they reached the parade ground, and the battalion had been drawn up in line, Tom was astonished to discover that a boy about his own age suddenly appeared and assumed the command. After seeing that the line was properly formed, he walked toward the principal, who stood a short distance in front of the students, then faced about, executing the movement with as much grace and precision as if he had been a soldier all his life, and ordered the battalion to “Present arms.” When the command had been obeyed, he faced about again, and, after saluting the principal with his sword, advanced and took a position behind him. Tom closely watched all his movements, and was finally obliged to confess to himself that he had a great deal to learn before he could become an officer.
“Who is that fellow?” he asked, turning to one of the raw recruits who stood beside him.
“That’s Bill Steele, the adjutant,” was the answer. “Isn’t he gay? He handles that sword like an old cavalry man. He understands the broadsword exercise to a dot. He’s our drill-master.”
“Humph!” sneered the new student. “He isn’t much.”