"Captain Putnam wants you to report to him or to Mr. Strong at once,"
went on the cadet outside, in a heavy, assumed voice.
"Wants me to report?" questioned Tubbs, sitting up in astonishment.
"Yes, and at once. Hurry up, for it's very important."
"Well, this is assuredly strange," murmured William Philander to
himself. "Wonder what is up?"
He felt around in the dark for a light, but it had been removed by Tom
and so had all the matches.
"Beastly luck, not a match!" growled Tubbs, and then began to dress in
the dark. In his hurry he did not notice that his coat was inside out,
nor did he discover that his face and hands were blacked.
Captain Putnam's quarters were at the opposite end of the camp, and in
that direction William Philander hurried until suddenly stopped by a
guard who chanced to be coming in from duty.
"Halt!" cried the cadet. "What are you doing in this camp?" he
demanded.
"Captain Putnam wants me," answered Tubbs, thinking the guard wanted to
know why he was astir at that hour of the night.
"Captain Putnam wants you?"
"Yes."
"It's strange. How did you get in?"
"In? In where?"
"In this camp?"
"Oh, Ribble, are you crazy?"
"So you know me," said Ribble. "Well, I must say I don't know you."
"You certainly must be crazy. I am William Philander Tubbs."
"What! Oh, then you--" stammered Ribble, and then a light dawned on
him. "Who told you the captain wanted to see you?"
"Some cadet who just woke me up."
"All right, go ahead then," and Ribble grinned. Behind Tubbs he now saw
half a dozen cadets hovering in the semi-darkness, watching for sport.
On ran William Philander, to make up for lost time, and soon arrived at
the flap of the tent occupied by Captain Putnam.
"Here I am, Captain Putnam!" he called out. And then, as he got no
reply, he called again. By this time the captain was awake, and coming
to the flap, he peered out.
"What do you want?" he asked, sharply.
"You sent for me, sir," stammered Tubbs.
"I sent for you?"
"Yes, sir."
"I have no recollection of so doing," answered Captain Putman. "Where
are you from?"
"From?"
"Exactly."
"Why, I am--ah--from this camp," answered the puzzled Tubbs.
"Do you mean to tell me you belong here?" questioned the now astonished
master of Putnam Hall.
"Of course, Captain Putnam. Didn't you send for me? Somebody said you
did," continued William Philander.
"Sir, I don't know you and never heard of you, so far as I can
remember. You must be mixed up.
"I mixed up? I guess you are mixed up," roared Tubbs, growing angry.
"If I don't belong to this camp, where do I belong?"
"How should I know? We have no negroes here, to the best of my
knowledge."
"Captain Putnam, what do you mean by calling me an--ah--negro?" fumed
William Philander.
"Well, aren't you one? I can't see very well."
"No, sir; I am not a negro, and never was a negro," answered Tubbs,
getting more and more excited. "I shall report this to my parents when
I arrive home."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account