Part 20 (1/2)

”Well, I'll be hanged! Say, how is it to get out of my coat, Bantam?”

True enough, the garment into which the wee man was wriggling trailed upon the carpet, but Jean Paul was in a realm where overcoats 'never were or e'er had been.'

At six-fifteen the lingering good-byes had been said and Mrs. Harold had dismissed those who const.i.tuted the ”firing line,” the name having been bestowed by Wheedles when he first witnessed the prompt.i.tude with which Mrs. Harold sent her boys to the right-about in order to avoid demerits for tardiness.

”Why must they rush back on the very minute?” asked Rosalie, when all were gone, half inclined to resent an order of things which deprived her of her gallant Jean sans ceremony.

”Discipline! Discipline! Little lady,” laughed Mrs. Harold, coming up behind Rosalie and turning the piquant face up to hers.

”I should think they'd feel like a lot of school boys to be ordered about so,” was Juno's rather petulant comment.

”Better feel 'like a lot of schoolboys' here, than like a lot of simpletons when they 'hit the tree,'” was Mrs. Harold's merry reply.

”You've a whole lot to learn about regulations, my bonny la.s.sie.”

It was all said so kindly and so merrily that Juno could not resent it.

”But when will they learn about their leave? And if they are to go out to Severndale tonight how will they manage?” asked Rosalie eagerly.

”Trust Daddy Neil to manage that. When they get back they'll be called to the office and the officer in charge will notify them of what has taken place and give them their orders.”

”Oh, I don't think I can possibly wait to hear what they'll say!” cried Polly. ”I never, never knew such a lovely thing to happen before.”

CHAPTER XIV

AT SEVERNDALE

”My goodness!” cried Rosalie, ”I thought I knew Peggy Stewart, but the Peggy Stewart we know at Columbia Heights, and the Peggy Stewart we saw at Wilmot, and the Peggy Stewart we've found here are three different people!”

”And if you stay here long enough you'll know still another Peggy Stewart,” nodded Polly sagely.

”She is a wonder no matter where you find her,” said Nelly quietly, ”and she grows to be more and more of a wonder the longer you know her.”

”How long have you been observing this wonderful wonder?” asked Juno.

”I think Peggy Stewart has held my interest from the first moment we came to live at Severndale,” was Nelly's perfectly truthful, though not wholly enlightening, answer. Juno thought the evasion intentional and looked at her rather sharply. She was more than curious to see Nelly's home and father, and wondered if the party would be invited there.

The Christmas hop, which had been a paradise within flag-draped walls for Captain Stewart's guests, was numbered among delights pa.s.sed, but so many more were in store and the grand climax of the year, the New Year's eve hop, though, alack! it had to be given on the night of December thirtieth instead of the thirty-first, was looked forward to with eagerness.

The party had come out to Severndale by a special car at twelve-thirty, and a ”madder, merrier” group of young people it would have been hard to find.

Upon their return to Bancroft Hall after Mrs. Harold's summary dismissal from ”Middie's Haven” the previous Sat.u.r.day night, Ralph, Jean Paul, Durand, Bert, Gordon and Doug had been ordered to report at the office and had it not been for the hint given at the tea, would have gone in trepidation of spirit. But it so happened that the officer in charge was possessed of a flickering memory of his own mids.h.i.+pman days, and his twinkling eyes and cheerful grin were rea.s.suring. The boys all openly adored him, and even though they had dubbed him _Hercules_ Hugh, would have formed a door mat of their bodies had he hinted a desire for it.

When the lucky six finally grasped the fact that Captain Stewart had actually obtained forty-eight hours liberty for them, and they were to go out to Severndale with the house-party, some startling things came very near taking place right in the O C's office. Luckily the favored ones restrained themselves until they reached Durand's room on the third deck, where a vent promptly presented itself, and is too good a story to leave untold.

Naturally at Christmas, innumerable boxes of ”eats” are s.h.i.+pped to the mids.h.i.+pmen from all over the United States, their contents usually governed by the section of the world from which they are forwarded. New England invariably sends its quota of mince pies, roast turkeys and the viands which furnish forth a New England table at Yuletide. The South and West send their special dishes.

Durand's Aunt Belle never failed him. Each holiday found a box at Bancroft addressed to the lad who was so dear to her, and it was always regarded as public property by Durand's friends, who never hesitated to open it and regale themselves, sure that the generous owner of the ”eats” would be only too glad to share with them everything he owned.

But like most generous souls, Durand was often imposed upon, and this year the imposition went to the very limit. While Durand and his friends were over in Wilmot Hall his box was rifled, but it could hardly have been said to have been done by his friends, several men who had counted upon ”Bubbles being a good old scout” having made way with practically everything the box contained. When he returned to his room the turkey carca.s.s, picked clean as though buzzards had fallen upon it, rested forlornly upon its back in the middle of his study table. It was well for him that the mids.h.i.+pman on duty in his corridor had been one of the marauders, otherwise he would have been speedily reported for that which followed.