Boys of the Central: A High-School Story

by I. T. Thurston

Crawford had hired one of the boxes, and Freeman sat there with him. Edith was there, too, but she sat with some of her friends on the other side. Edith was a very pretty girl, and Crawford would gladly have given her a seat in his box. Indeed, when he saw her, he sent Freeman to ask her to join them, but she returned them a polite refusal, and remained where she was, to Crawford’s secret vexation; nor was this feeling lessened, when, a little later, he saw the cordial welcome she gave to Clark, and the readiness with which she made room for him at her side.

The judges were three army officers, and promptly at the appointed hour they appeared on the field, and a moment later, Company A marched in on the opposite side, welcomed by ringing cheers and shouts from their friends, and ear-splitting horn salutes from their foes—that is, those whose sympathies were with other companies.

Quiet fell upon the throng of spectators as the drill began, and all eyes watched the boys in blue, some in breathless anxiety lest there be some slip or blunder—some in equally great anxiety lest there should not be.

The company did itself credit, and as all went smoothly, its eager well-wishers began to believe that this time A would surely stand first, when, almost at the last moment, the captain dropped his sword. Poor fellow—he felt badly enough about it without the groan that he could not help hearing, from the grand stand, and though not another slip occurred, and he marched his men off the field in fine style, he and they knew well that their chance was gone.

As they passed off, Company C marched on. Henderson’s dark face was full of grim determination, yet there was a shadow of anxiety in his glance as it rested for a second on the last man in the rear rank. That was Baum. If any one blundered, it was safe to be Baum; but Baum had done finely for the past month, surely he would do his best to-day. So ran Henderson’s thoughts, as he led his men forward. No danger of Henderson making a blunder. He meant to go to West Point yet, for all his tastes were for a military life, and he had the manual at his tongue’s end. No danger of his getting rattled. He was sure of himself and sure of his men—all but Baum.

And Company C did well. As Henderson’s strong voice rang out, his orders were obeyed with the promptness and exactness of clockwork. The judges nodded approval, and made memoranda on their programs, as order after order was given and obeyed. Henderson’s eyes shone, and his heart beat high with proud satisfaction, and then—then, at last that wretched Baum blundered. When the company was ordered to load and fire, lying down, his discharge was so far behind the others that a shout of derision broke from some of the rougher boys among the spectators, and Henderson felt an insane longing to seize Baum’s gun and whack him over the head with it.

And Baum, knowing well what was in his captain’s heart, felt his heart sink into his boots as he wondered if he could possibly fire at all the second time. How he did it he never knew, but the second discharge was fine, and the poor fellow drew a breath of relief as he braced himself to meet the storm that he knew would burst upon his head the moment the drill was over. And it did. Henderson hardly waited to get off the field, before he burst into a torrent of angry abuse and vituperation, so bitter and so profane that it shocked the others into silence, and no other boy said anything to Baum about what had happened; and he, dropping into the most unnoticeable place he could find, pulled his cap over his eyes and brooded over his “hard luck.”

Henderson, his face still dark with anger, joined Crawford and Freeman, and sat there glowering at Company E. This being notoriously the worst drilled of the seven companies, he had no fear of its gaining the prize, and he gave but little heed to what passed till Company B came on. Then he roused himself, and hastily scrawling a line on a slip of paper, told Freeman to “Give it to that cub over yonder,” the cub referred to being Baum.

Baum read the message, and his gloomy face lightened a little, as he nodded to Henderson, and then proceeded to tear the note into tiny bits, and presently he slipped away.

Shouts and cheers greeted the appearance of Company B, and banners bearing that letter were raised and waved from every quarter. Pink was the company color, and a large and very beautiful banner of pink silk with B embroidered in the center, was set up in the front row of the bleachers as the company marched forward.