Hal and Noll now followed a well-kept road to the guard-house. Outside stood the corporal of the guard for this relief. As he gazed at the young soldiers, noting their canvas cases, he did not need to be told that they were recruits. None but recruits have cases the pattern they were carrying. "Corporal," reported Hal, "we are Privates Overton and Terry, under orders to join the Thirty-fourth." "Take seats inside, then," said the corporal. "Go to sleep in your chairs, if you want to." Several other privates, belonging to the guard, were dozing in chairs. But Hal and Noll felt now too wide awake to think of dozing. They longed to step outside for a better look at this post, which was to be their future home. Yet, having been directed to remain inside, they obeyed. It was a long while afterward before a bugler blew the first call to reveille, which is the "Army alarm clock," the signal to rise. "Attention!" called the corporal, a few minutes afterward. All the dozers sprang to their feet, standing at attention. The officer of the day entered, looking over the men. Then his glance fell upon the recruits. "You are new men joining?" he asked. "Yes, sir," Hal and Noll answered, presenting their orders. "Corporal, when mess call sounds send a private of the guard with these men to put them in D Company's mess for their first meal." "Very good, sir." "Overton and Terry, you will report at the adjutant's office promptly at nine o'clock." "Very good, sir." The officer remained to glance over the guard report, then went away. "When does that mess call sound, Corporal?" asked Hal. "Five minutes more. Bates, you'll take the recruits to D Company's mess." Nor did either recruit feel sorry when he was ushered into the enlisted men's mess, near barracks. "Attention!" roared one waggish soldier. As by instinct the men in the room stood at attention. "Two new young generals are honoring us this morning," grinned the wag. "Throw him out!" growled a sergeant. "It's bad enough to be a rookie without having it rubbed in." The first sergeant now gave the seating order, and the men fell in at table. The wag sat at Noll's left. "I find I'm mistaken," called the wag, down the table. "Our guests are only colonels." "You'll be a general, one of these days, if you don't look out, Fowler," warned another soldier near by. "The gypsies always told my mother I'd be a general," replied Fowler complacently. "Yes, a general prisoner," continued the soldier who had just warned the wag. This raised a prompt laugh, for, in the Army, a "general prisoner" is one who is serving a term of confinement after sentence by a general court-martial. "There are generals, and generals, of course," admitted Fowler. "There'd be a general famine, Fowler, if you ever stopped talking at mess long enough to do all the eating that your mouth calls for." "How long have you young gentlemen been out of West Point?" asked Fowler, turning to Noll.