Part 26 (1/2)

”Corporals, you mean, Lieutenant,” Jerry corrected.

”No, I thought I meant sergeants,” the lieutenant repeated. ”In fact, I'm quite sure I did.”

”What do you mean?” Slim demanded eagerly, for the moment forgetting all about their prisoners of war.

”Just what I said--sergeants,” said Lieutenant Mackinson, smiling.

”Have we--Do you--” Jerry stopped to begin all over again, and the young officer interrupted him.

”I suppose it's a little like telling secrets out of school,” he said, ”but then, after all, it isn't any secret, for the news was out yesterday afternoon. A lot of promotions were announced. Frank's been made a corporal, and you boys--Joe, too--advanced to sergeant.”

It was fully a minute before either lad could express himself, and the lieutenant and Corporal Hoskins took a full measure of enjoyment out of their apparent happy gratification.

”Lieutenant--” Slim began.

”Captain, if you please,” Mr. Mackinson corrected amiably. ”You see, I was in the list, too.”

Slim and Jerry simultaneously brought their horses to a halt while they came to a full military salute.

As they approached Major Jones' headquarters with their prisoners, Captain Mackinson turned another way and Corporal Hoskins dropped back.

Briefly, and without undue emphasis upon their own hards.h.i.+ps or courage or common sense, they gave the details of their activities since they had left, and of the capture of Slim and the subsequent taking of his captors.

”You have done well, exceptionally well,” the major responded. ”In consequence whereof it gives me great pleasure to inform you that you have been advanced to the rank of sergeant. In that respect I might remind you that the next step is to a commission, and that merit and courage will take a man to any command in the United States army. It is the only standard of advancement, and there is no other instrument of preferment. I am happy to know that you young men have started so well.

You two, and the friend who also was advanced to sergeant with you, have brilliant futures before you.”

They were saluting, preliminary to departure, when the major added:

”You will report to General Young, division commander, at ten o'clock.”

A little bewildered by the salutes of those privates who knew of their promotions, even though they did not yet wear upon their sleeves the two stripes indicating their advance to corporals, Jerry and Slim hurried toward the wash spigots, preliminary to an a.s.sault upon the mess tent.

There they met Joe, who had just come off duty as night wireless operator at headquarters. They shook hands, and then Slim demanded to know about that letter from Brighton.

”It was from our old friend, the telegrapher, Philip Burton,” said Joe, ”and it was written about three weeks ago.”

”That's pretty quick delivery,” said Slim. ”What did he have to say?”

”Well, it seems they've had reports there of some of our experiences coming over, and Mr. Burton says some of the finest things.”

”Good old Burton!” mused Jerry. ”He always did credit us with being a lot better and brighter and more capable than we really were.”

”Yes, and we owe him a lot,” added Slim, ”for he was really responsible in the first place for our getting here. If it hadn't been for what he taught us about telegraphy we'd never be sergeants now.”

”That's right,” said Joe. ”Fellows, Mr. Burton's getting pretty well along now. He'll be an old man before very long. I wish we three could do something to really show him our appreciation of what he's been to us.”

”We will,” Jerry said. ”We will. Let's make a promise to each other on that.”

And with this good resolution made, they started for the mess tent.

The first fifteen minutes they gave over unstintedly to appeasing healthy and long-deferred appet.i.tes, and then Slim suddenly remembered Major Jones' final instructions.