Dick Hamilton's Football Team; Or, A Young Millionaire On The Gridiron — John Stuart Mill — John Shaqi
Dick Hamilton's Football Team; Or, A Young Millionaire On The Gridiron
John Stuart Mill · en
Artillery practice followed the cavalry drill, and the cadets, sitting
as straight as ramrods on the caissons while the horses galloped around
at full speed, leaped off the moment the sudden halt was made,
unlimbered, fired rapid shots and, limbering up again, went off at a mad
gallop to repeat the operation.
"Forward march!" signalled the bugler when arrangements had been made
for the "hike," and the eager horses, astride of which were the no less
eager cadets, started off.
It was a pleasant day, though a trifle cool, and the service overcoats,
with their flashily yellow linings, showing gaily in the sun when they
flapped back, felt very comfortable.
At first the march was in orderly array, while Major Webster, and some
of the other military instructors, passed here and there among the new
cadets, telling them the proper way to manage their horses. Dick and his
chums, however, having passed several terms at the academy, needed no
hints.
"Don't hold your snaffle reins that way, Mr. Porter," said the major to
the new lad as he rode up beside him. "You can't control your horse in
an emergency. Let me show you," which he did, also correcting a fault he
noticed in the way Weston sat on his steed.
"Humph! I guess I know something about horses," complained Porter, when
the instructors had passed on. "I straddled one before I came here. I
had a German riding master, and what he didn't know about horses wasn't
worth putting on ice. I'll ride as I please."
As he spoke, he put spurs to his horse, digging them in viciously, and
as the startled animal leaped forward, the cruel lad wrenched the poor
brute's mouth open with the strong curb bit. There was a momentary
confusion among the horses immediately surrounding Porter, and several
of the older cadets called sharply to him to "stop his funny work."
"Oh, you fellows make me tired!" Porter grumbled. "Why don't you do some
fast riding."
"You'll get all the fast riding you want if you stay long enough," spoke
Paul sharply.
A little later the order was given to ride at will, and Major Webster,
galloping back to Dick, said:
"Captain Hamilton, you and Lieutenant Drew take several of the new
cadets and ride around by the long lake road. Give them some points.
Take about ten--Mr. Porter and Mr. Weston, fall in with Captain
Hamilton's squad."
"Hum! I guess Captain Hamilton thinks he knows it all," sneered Weston.
"Not a bit of it," answered Dick good naturedly. "But orders are orders
you'll find. Come ahead, and I'll show you a fine bit of road, some
magnificent scenery, and we'll have a good gallop. Look out there, Paul,
I don't like the way Spitfire is acting!" The young millionaire called
this suddenly as he saw his chum's steed waltzing up to another animal,
with ears laid back as though to bite, and so cause trouble.
"I can manage him," answered Paul confidently, as he put the restless
steed about in a rapid circle.