“I dunno,” said Texas, “but I reckon it’ll be pretty soon now. The burns air most all healed ’cept his hands, an’ durnation, they won’t keep him in fo’ that.”
“He always war lucky,” Texas continued, after a moment’s pause. “Jes’ think! He won’t have to do anything now but set roun’ an’ watch us plebes drill all day. An’ see how he’s fooled them ole cadets, too. He said he wouldn’t let ’em haze him and he’s licked every feller they sent to fight him. Then when they tried to make him fight Fischer, the one decent chap in the class an’ Mark’s friend, he said he wouldn’t. An’ after standin’ all their abuse all day he pitched in an’ rescued that girl from the fire when they warn’t a man of ’em dared it. They had to ’pologize after that.”
“He was quite a hero, wasn’t he, Texas?”
It was Mark Mallory’s voice!
Texas wheeled with an exclamation of delight, and the others rushed out of the tent and made a leap at the cadet who had thus laughingly spoken. He was a tall, handsome lad, with a frank, merry face. He had just entered camp and reached the tent as Texas concluded his discourse.
“Ef it ain’t Mark Mallory!” roared the latter, dancing about him in an ecstasy of delight. “Whoop! Say, ole man, I’m durnation glad to see ye. Gee whiz!”
These excited exclamations had brought the rest of the “Banded Seven,” Mark’s secret society, out of their tents in a hurry. There were Parson Stanard, and Sleepy, “the farmer,” and “B’gee” Dewey, the prize story teller, besides, Chauncey, “the dude,” who thought it undignified to hurry, brought up the rear, with “Indian,” the fat boy of Indianapolis. And the whole six got around Mark and fairly danced for joy at having their leader with them again.
“And, b’gee, he’s all well, too,” chuckled Dewey; “all but his hands.”
The “hands” of which this was said were for all the world like boxer’s gloves, they were so wrapped with bandages. That was the only thing that kept the six from having a fight to get hold of them and shake. It was fully ten minutes before they had managed to get enough of their congratulations expressed to satisfy themselves, and even then Mallory had to threaten to get mad if they didn’t stop telling him what a hero he was.
“I’ll run away to Texas,” he vowed, laughing.