Army and Navy Weekly — page 16: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

Mark FOILING AN ENEMY’S PLOT. iit Mallory’s Escape; By Licut. Prederick Garrisom, Ue. S- A. CHA PF ERR * f. CADET MALLORY’S STRANGE CONDUCT. “Say, fellows, what do you think ?”’ ‘What’s the matter ?”’ ‘‘“Mallory’s given in!”’ ‘Given in! How do you mean?’ ‘“He’s going to let himself be hazed.”’ What !’? Two more surprised cadets than the two who uttered this last exclamation it would be hard to imagine. ‘They had been sitting on a bench near Trophy Point, and one of them had been careless- ly tinkling a mandolin. He had dropped the instrument and leaped to his feet. Now he was staring with open mouth at the new arrival, who bore the extraordin- ary tidings. ‘“Mallory given up! Gus Murray, what on earth do you mean ?”? The three were cadets at the West Point Military Academy. They were yearlings, all of them The crowd which has usually been designated in these sto- ries as ‘‘Bull Harris’ gang.’’ There was Gus Murray, the new arrival, a low, bru- tal looking chap. There was the sickly and disagreeable ‘‘Merry’’? Vance. And there was the little fellow ‘‘Baby”’ Ed- wards, the meanest of them all. Mallory, to whom they were referring, was a ‘‘plebe,’’ or -new cadet. He was their deadliest enemy, principally because he had refused to submit to the brutal abuse they called ‘‘hazing,’’ and because he had met and outwitted them at every turn. Mark Mallory was what is known asa B. J. plebe, a very unpopular variety. B. J. is West Point’s way of saying ‘‘fresh.”’ He had dared to do things that no other plebe had even dreamed of; and hence his enemies’ surprise at Murray’s most unexpected announcenient. ‘*VYou surely can’t mean,’’ cried Vance, “that Mallory has consented to ajlow the fellows to haze him ?”’ ‘*Better than that even,’’ chuckled Murray. ‘‘Petter than that!’ ‘“‘“For Heaven’s sakes,’’ gasped the other, ‘‘sit down and tell us what you do mean. What in thunder is the use of talking riddles ?”’ Thus enjoined, Gus Murray explained ; he was nothing loath to tell the tale. “*T’ll tell you how it was,’’ he said. ‘*T was never more astounded in my life. I saw that plebe strolling down the street a while ago, holding his head high as ever and looking as if he owned the place:”” ‘‘Confound him!’’ muttered Vance. “You know,’’ the other continued, ‘‘he’s never done any work like the rest of the plebes. Usually we yearlings inake them fix our tents and guns, and carry water, and so on. Mallory never has, and of course nobody’s succeeded in making him. I thought I’d guy him a little just now and see how he’d takeit. So I stopped and said, ‘‘See here, plebe. Let me show you how to clean a gun.’ ”’ ‘*And what did he say ?”’ cried Wance. ‘‘Just as B. J. as éver,’’ srowled Mur- ray. °° “Phank you,” he said, ‘I'!] go get mine and let you doit.’ Of.course he knew perfectly well that I wanted to show him on mine and let him work. I said to him, ‘I’ve a gun to show Comicloooks do the | CO 5} ¥ ty a rahe = = ee nf Se Oe Sih Pe ee ee ee ee = gate.