CHAPTER I "TIPPED OFF" BY WIG-WAG LIEUTENANT POPE, battalion adjutant of the first battalion of the Thirty-fourth United States Infantry, looked up from his office desk as the door swung open and a smart, trim-looking young corporal strode in. Pausing before the desk, the young corporal came to a precise, formal salute. Then, dropping his right hand to his side, the soldier stood at attention. "Good morning, Corporal Overton." "Good morning,... more...

CHAPTER ITHE LETTER FROM THE WAR DEPARTMENT   WHEW, but it's hot here!" grumbled Sergeant Noll Terry, of the United States Army. "That's an odd complaint to hear from a young man who served so actively for two years in the tropics," laughed Mrs. Overton, a short, plump, middle-aged matron. "Well, Mother, it is a hot day," put in Sergeant Hal Overton quietly. "Yes, it is," agreed Hal's mother, "though you two, who came from the... more...

CHAPTER I THE MYSTERY OF A BLACK NIGHT "I wish I had brought my electric flash out here with me," muttered HarryHazelton uneasily. "I told you that you'd better do it," chuckled Tom Reade. "But how could I know that the night would be pitch dark?" Harry demanded. "I don't know this gulf weather yet, and fifteen minutes ago the stars were out in full force. Now look at them!" "How can I look at them?" demanded Tom, halting. "My flashlight... more...

CHAPTER I. THE MAN OF "CARD HONOR" "I'll wager you ten dollars that my fly gets off the mirror before yours does." "I'll take that bet, friend." The dozen or so of waiting customers lounging in Abe Morris's barber shop looked up with signs of renewed life. "I'll make it twenty," continued the first speaker. "I follow you," assented the second speaker. *Truly, if men must do so trivial a thing as squander their money on idle bets, here was a... more...

CHAPTER I ON FURLOUGH IN THE OLD HOME TOWN "My son, Richard. He is home on his furlough from the MilitaryAcademy at West Point." Words would fail in describing motherly pride with which Mrs. Prescott introduced her son to Mrs. Davidson, wife of the new pastor. "I am very glad to meet you, Mr. Prescott," said Mrs. Davidson, looking up, for up she had to glance in order to see the face of this tall, distinguished-looking cadet. Dick Prescott's... more...

CHAPTER I A QUESTION OF MIDSHIPMAN HONOR "How can a midshipman and gentleman act in that way?" The voice of Midshipman David Darrin, United States Navy, vibrated uneasily as he turned to his comrades. "It's a shame—that's what it is," quivered Mr. Farley, also of the third class at the United States Naval Academy. "But the question is," propounded Midshipman Dan Dalzell, "what are we going to do about it?" "Is it any part of our... more...

CHAPTER I A LESSON IN RESPECT FOR THE UNIFORM "AW, what's the difference between a soldier and a loafer?" demanded "Bunny" Hepburn. "A soldier ain't a loafer, and it takes nerve to be a soldier. It's a job for the bravest kind of a man," retorted Jud Jeffers indignantly. "Answer my c'nundrum," insisted Bunny. "It ain't a decent conundrum," retorted Jud, with dignity, for his father had served as a volunteer soldier in the war with Spain.... more...

THE FILIPINO DANDY "We've solved one problem at last, Noll," declared Sergeant Hal Overton seriously. "Only one?" demanded young Sergeant Terry quizzically. But Hal, becoming only the more serious, went on earnestly: "At last we begin to understand just what the 'lure of the Orient' means! For years I've been reading about the Orient, and the way that this part of the world charms men and holds them. Now, that we are here on the spot, I begin... more...

CHAPTER I "Kicker" Drayne Revolts "I'm going to play quarter-back," declared Drayne stolidly. "You?" demanded Captain Dick Prescott, looking at the aspirant in stolid wonder. "Of course," retorted Drayne. "It's the one position I'm best fitted for of all on the team." "Do you mean that you're better fitted for that post than anyone else on the team?" inquired Prescott. "Or that it's the position that best fits your talents?" "Both," replied... more...

CHAPTER I MR. TITMOUSE DOESN'T KNOW DICK "We thought ten dollars would be about right," Dick Prescott announced. "Per week?" inquired Mr. Titmouse, as though he doubted his hearing. "Oh, dear, no! For the month of August, sir." Mr. Newbegin Titmouse surveyed his young caller through half-closed eyelids. "Ten dollars for the use of that fine wagon for a whole month?" cried Mr. Titmouse in astonishment. "Absurd!" "Very likely I am looking at... more...