“I wonder what Allen would say,” chuckled that youngster, “if he only had any idea of the real way the accident happened. If he knew that a certain plebe by the name of Mallory had swiped his uniform, b’gee!——”
“S’h! not so loud!”
“Sure enough,” remarked Dewey. “I forgot that. Reminds me of a story I once heard, b’gee—told me by my great uncle on my father’s starboard side. What’s that? You don’t want to hear it? Well, who was going to tell it? I never said I was, did I? I was just going to say when you interrupted me last that I wonder what Allen would think if he knew that Mallory had borrowed his uniform and had gone off in the woods to play lieutenant and scare Bull Harris and a party of yearlings away from a feast they were eating. Hey?”
“He would in all probability be aggravated to a considerable degree,” observed Parson Stanard. “He would doubtless be in the condition of mind which was so accurately, scientifically, and at the same time poetically, described by the immortal Homer in the four hundred and sixty-third line of the eleventh book of the imperishable Iliad, beginning——”
“And ending,” observed Dewey, whereat the indignant Parson stopped his discourse and went back into his shell like a sulky oyster.
“Allen would be mad fo’ a fact,” remarked Texas. “But, hang it! I don’t think he’d be half as mad at that as ef he knowed how that air noise came to be made; ef he learned that there were some yearlin’s in his company so mean as to raise a rumpus when they knew we were out o’ camp an’ would be missed an’ expelled. I reckon that air’s ’bout as ornery a trick as I ever heerd ’bout. Hey?”
“It’s hardly as bad as that, Texas,” laughed Mark, generously. “You see, Bull and the crowd were pretty mad that we plebes had dared to fool them and spoil their feast. And Bull always has hated me, you know.”
“I guess I do know it!” growled Texas, angrily. “I’m a goin’ to punch his ole head fo’ him pretty soon ef he don’t stop them coyote tricks o’ his. We’d a’ been fired sho’ last night ef you hadn’t had Allen’s clothes so’s he couldn’t leave his tent to inspect. Bull Harris’ll try that air thick once too often, doggone his boots!”
Mark laughed gently, and then sat down in front of the tent.
“Fellows,” he said, after a moment’s thought, “I’ve got something to say to you. Texas’ last remark made me think of it. This is a matter of business for the Banded Seven to decide on.”