"Where are the dice," one of the crapshooters barked. "I rolled a seven just when the lights went out."
The noise died down and the game resumed. Fisher lay back on his bunk and went back to his book. Jed's mind reached out for home again. "Ma," he called out, "you say something?"
The lights went out and the yells went up throughout the two-story barracks.
Jed opened his eyes and the lights came on.
At the end of the barracks, Corporal Weisbaum came out of his sacredly private room and surveyed the recruits. "Awright," he roared, "so which one of you is the wise guy making with the lights?"
"So nobody, corporal," a recruit sitting on the end bunk answered. "So the lights went out. Then they come back on. So who knows? Maybe the Army ain't paying its light bills. I had a landlady back in Brooklyn who usta do the same thing anytime I got late with her rent mon...."
"Shaddup," Weisbaum snarled. "Maybe it was power trouble. But if it happens again and I find out one of you monkeys is bein' smart, the whole platoon falls out and we'll get a little night air exercising." He stalked back into his room and slammed the door.
The barracks buzzed angrily for a few moments. Jed sat up and peered up at Fisher.
"That there officer shorely don't talk very nice, you know that Harry," Jed said.
Fisher laid down the book and peered under his thick-rimmed glasses at the lanky mountain boy.