their feet, and the wild rumble of hollow iron beginning the crescendo of swift-coming, stupendous thunder, and Willett stood and swung his hat, and classmates half-way down the slope turned back to see, and understood without seeing, that there was something back of it besides Willett. And then a tornado burst forth, as Harris, pale to the lips, halted at the door. His escort sprang aside, and to a man the battalion leaped to its feet and let go with voice and foot and hand, and the din was deafening. One moment he stood there, trembling with emotion, incapable of response, then whirled and darted down the steps, leaving Willett to acknowledge the tremendous ovation that speedily died away--almost to silence--ere he, too, turned and followed. "Good-by, fellows! God bless you!" shouted Willett, as though in final triumph. He had had the last word; had "taken the call," and the dramatic success of the day was his, or might have been, but for a most unprecedented incident. "Hush! hush! Shut up!" were the stern, sudden words with which the elders repressed the juniors who, impulsively, would have broken forth again. "Wait! Wait, you fellows!" was the cry, for on a sudden half a dozen stalwart gray coats had sprung from the door, regardless of the corporal on duty, disdainful of demerit, had hurled themselves on wet-eyed Harris, had heaved him up on their shoulders, with pinioned, arm-locked, helpless legs, and frantic, impotently battling fists, and borne him struggling up the steps and once more within the massive portals, and then pandemonium broke loose, for this was no divided honor--there was none to share it now. They bore him, vainly protesting, into the midst of the now risen battalion. They bore him forth into the June sunshine without. They surged about him under the trees and along the roadway, his halted classmates gazing back from the brow of the bluff, a swarm of spectators looking on, a stupefied group surging out from the officers' mess, conceiving that fire alone could account for the tumult. Then, over the uproar, could be heard the orders of the new captain. "Form your companies!" the shouts of the sergeants: "Fall in, men, fall in!" And then the demand: "March us back, Hefty! Take command once more!" "Start 'em back, Harris, for God's sake! I can never straighten 'em out," cried his half-laughing, half-sobbing successor, his first sergeant of the year gone by. He stood there prisoner, held by the staff and special duty men. He could not get away. Even the saturnine officer in charge stood a smiling observer, and, catching the young graduate's eye, waved approval and encouragement, and so there was no help for it. With a voice half-broken through emotion, he gave the old familiar commands that, three times a day for nearly ten long months previous, had sent them striding back through the gap between the old "Academic" and the gray gables of the Mess, and so on to the broad area of barracks beyond.