Uncle Sam's Boys as Lieutenants; or, Serving Old Glory as Line OfficersHancock, H. Irving (Harrie Irving)
General
Uncle Sam's Boys as Lieutenants; or, Serving Old Glory as Line Officers
Hancock, H. Irving (Harrie Irving)
United States. Army -- Juvenile fiction
Slowly Captain Foster read off the numbers, writing them down in a
notebook that he carried. As the older officer glanced up he met the
burning gaze of Lieutenant Hal Overton.
"Captain," cried the Army boy hoarsely, "I don't know by what juggling
trickery this was done, but I never have handled that money, though it
would seem that I must have been carrying it around in my holster."
"Bah!" sneered Ruggles.
Had it not been for Captain Foster's quick leap between the pair Hal
would have knocked the purple-faced fellow down.
"Careful, Mr. Overton," warned the captain. "Violence will injure your
case, not help it. Mr. Ruggles, I will hold this money as evidence, but
I will give you a receipt for it."
"On that receipt will you enter the numbers of the bills?" demanded the
purple-faced one craftily.
"Certainly," and Foster made the receipt out in that form, handing it to
the promoter.
"Sergeant of the guard!" called Captain Foster.
Hal stiffened, his face turning ghastly. He felt that it would be better
to die than to live a life of disgrace. The thought that he had been
easily but cleverly tricked made his blood boil within him.
"Sergeant, conduct the prisoner Ruggles to the guard-tent, where the
Mexicans are. Instruct the guard that they are to make absolutely sure
that this prisoner doesn't escape."
"Doesn't your young man go to the guard-tent, too?" demanded Ruggles, as
he stepped toward the sergeant.
"I will be responsible for the lieutenant," rejoined the captain coldly.
"Thank you, Sergeant Raney. You may go. Of course you will be discreet."
When the two officers had the tent to themselves Foster turned his grave
look on Hal Overton.
"My boy," said the captain, in a voice that shook, "I can't realize,
even yet, that you have forfeited your honor as an officer."
"Nor have I, sir," returned Hal. "And I am even bold enough to hope that
I can yet find some way of throwing the whole lie back in that fellow's
throat with more proof than even he will care to swallow."
"I hope you can, Overton, with all my heart," responded the older
soldier, resting a hand on his white-faced junior's shoulder.
"Do you believe me guilty, sir?" asked Hal, looking straight into his
commander's eyes.
"Heavens knows I don't. To me, Overton, the whole thing seems absurd and
incredible. But I am your commanding officer. A charge has been made
that apparently destroys your honor. Some seeming proof against you has
been found. There is only one course open to me. I must detain you in
camp until I have communicated through the usual military channels."
"Am--am I under arrest?" asked Hal somewhat huskily.
"No, no, Overton!" exclaimed the older soldier quickly. "But you must
give me your parole--not to go beyond camp limits at any time or for any
purpose without my express permission."
"You have my parole, sir. It shall be rigidly observed."
"And now, Mr. Overton, I suggest that, as you have nothing else to do,
you lie down and sleep through the night."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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