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ROBIN’S RECRUIT.
“Ride straight round once, young man.†— Page 22. °
RoOBIN'S
RECRUIT.
BY
A. G. PLYMPTON,
AUTHOR OF
“ Dear Daughter Dorothy,â€â€™ ‘ Betty, a
Butterfly,’’ ‘‘ The Little Sister
of Wilifred.†| il
Ellustratey bo the Author.
BOSTON:
ROBERTS BROTHERS.
1893.
Copyright, 1898,
By A. G. PLYMPTON,
Aniversity ress :
JoHNnN WILSON AND Son, CAMBRIDGE, U.S.A.
DEDICATED
Dw
Bi
\
CHAPTER
I.
Il.
IT.
Iv.
V.
Vi.
Vil.
VIII.
IX.
XI.
CONTENTS.
ROBIN .
AMONG THE ROSE-BUSHES
THE ACCIDENT
An IMPATIENT PATIENT .
ON THE CHAPARRAL
A Sap BIRTHDAY
DOOGAN’S STORY
EARLY EXPERIENCES .. .
A DESERTING SOLDIER .
DIAN GE Rige Sepestraes trols gute
CONCLUSION
PaGE
24
43
63
76
92
. III
. 129
» 145
. 158
176
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.
. PAGE
“ Ride straight round once, young Man†— Frontispiece
Doogan. .. .- ees 9
“T think you have the eaies yee of any Lady
intthe Repimenty aes oe ukch ee ictdy gk gO
Susannahigeetec enact pn zone secs tear ste suneae 3 I
Sergeant Corrigan’s House in hSoapecds Row . 44
By the Creek. © 6. ee ee eee ee AP
(SG) Coiastina Pog el idegs hg a. o ace 9 AB
“Jt was just atGuardmountâ€. . . . . . . 64
“ Being wheeled about the Post†. ....- 78
“JT ain’t going to have any Man sprawling on
the Parade-ground, picking Flowers for me†go
“He had laid his Head on his Arms, eae to
hide his Mortification†. . IOI
“Was enough to make one’s best nen wince†104
“ Sitting by the disused Blacksmith’s Shop†. 114
“ Doogan sat moodily by himself on the Barrack
Orch re ae ee mite ec eA)
“It made her Heart ache to look at this little,
_ quiet Shadow of her once active, rugged
BOY eee oe Sie eee oe TOL
ROBIN’S RECRUIT.
CHAPTER I.
ROBIN.
NeeOpe ever
could tell why
Robin caredsomuch
for Doogan. Every
one else at Fort Ca-
rey had a bad word
for the young
soldier, and it
must be admit-
ted that there
were many glar-
ing defects in
DooGan
his character.
“He’s got a hard face on him, and
a terrible vicious eye,†said Sergeant
10 Robin's Recruzt.
Corrigan to the captain. “I reckon
he'll prove troublesome.â€
But let us begin at the very beginning,
on the morning when Robin first saw
Doogan among the recruits.
The children were standing near the
building called headquarters, which
fronted the north side of the parade-
ground. Guard-mount was just over,
and the bugler’s last notes were piercing
the air as the bandsmen marched away
to their quarters. Some recruits who
had been brought to Fort Carey the
previous night were now waiting at
headquarters to be assigned to the
different companies, and the children
were discussing the appearance of the
men.
“T choose that big one at the end of
the line,’ said Robin; “I hope he'll
belong to B Company.â€
Robin. II
4 Why, that man is the scrubbiest of
the whole lot. I would n’t choose zm,â€
said Arnold. “ He looks horrid.â€
The other children agreed with
Arnold, who went on, —
“See what an ugly red face he has;
and when he scowls — there, see, he is
scowling now at the orderly. He’s no
good.â€
“ Perhaps the orderly has done some-
thing that ough¢ to be scowled at. I’m
sure that recruit is a first-rate fellow.
Just see how straight and tall he is, —
makes the others look like dwarfs. My,
but he is strong, though! I tell you,
Arnold, he looks like poor Brown, that
got killed fighting Indians when we
were out in Dakota. Yes, sir; this
recruit is splendid and strong and big
- and brave, just like Brown.â€
In his earnestness Robin’s voice rose
12 Robin's Recrutt.
high. The little fellow was carried
away by his enthusiasm; and the more
he talked, the more he admired the
young recruit, whose splendid physique
had caught his boyish fancy. Having
no better material, Robin could always
make heroes out of very common clay,
for heroes to worship was a necessity of
his nature. He saw virtues more easily
than faults, and he clung to his own
generous opinion against that of colder
and more experienced persons. It may
be that with his warm, loving heart he
discovered many truths these sharp
people missed.
The little squad of men, of whom
Robin’s recruit formed one, were now
being marched away to the soldiers’
barracks, and presently turned in to
the last one of the row. These were
the quarters of Company B, of which
2
Leobin. 13
Robin’s father was captain, and which
Robin called his.
“Well, my father will have one good
one this time. He says the worst ones
usually fall to him,†said Robin, and
after a pause he went on,—
“T wonder how those men like the
looks of Texas. They came from New
York, you know. It’s sort of different
here.†He looked’ reflectively over the
landscape, with its stretches of scraggy
plains lying so -quiet and featureless
under a wide blue sky, while at the
same time memory called up the picture
of the great city which he had once
visited. .““I wonder if they know how
HOG Its: come. to ibe.:
“And about the tarantulas,†said
Arnold; “ my cousin never saw one till
she came here.â€
“ And the rattlesnakes.â€
14 Robin's Recrutt.
“And the centipedes,†cried the
children, in an alarming chorus.
“We had a centipede in our house.
yesterday,†cried Edith, with a touch
of pride in her shrill little voice. “It
was a big one, and I helped kill it. I
jumped round and screamed as loud
as I could while Hannah got the tea-
kettle and poured boiling water on it.
It curled right up and died then, and
I took it out on ashovel. I wasn’t a
bit afraid.â€
There were no comments made on
Edith’s bravery, for just at that moment
the children caught a glimpse of Lieu-
tenant Hall on his pretty black, horse at
the other end of the long line of houses
where the families of the officers lived.
Sometimes this amiable young man took
the children in turns for a canter around
the parade-ground, so at sight of him
Robin. 15
there was a simultaneous rush of little
trousered legs and a flutter of white
frocks. Robin made a movement as if
he would follow them, but finally sat
down on the parade-ground.
He was a beautiful boy, with soft dark
eyes that sometimes flashed gloriously,
and a clear skin through which, when
he was much moved, the. hot color
always burned. His head was covered
_ with short brown curls that now in the
bright sunshine shone golden. As a
little child he had been remarkable for °
strength and spirit. The men of Com-
pany B told many a tale of those wild
days in the Indian country, when at the
age of three he had first joined them:
how at four o’clock every morning at
reveille, his name being called by the
sergeant, the little fellow would be in his
place at the end of the line, — Private
16 Robin's Recrutt.
Clancy, with figure erect, head up, and
serious, stolid face. On pay-day he was
paid regularly with the men, — five
cents from the paymaster’s own pocket.
Once, — this was a favorite anecdote in
B Company, — when the men were
being vaccinated, the soft baby arm of
Master Robin was presented in turn
with the brawny arms of the soldiers,
and he would not go away until he had
shared this duty.
But while this child’s play was
allowed at that little two-company post
where Captain Clancy was then stationed,
in the large garrison at Fort Carey, with
stern old Colonel Bisby commanding,
no such unmilitary performances were
possible. The men were very sorry for
Robin, who used frequently to go down
to the barracks and bewail his expulsion
from the ranks, but in reality he no
Robin. 17
longer had the strength to bear his
former self-imposed hardships; whether
in his ambition to perform all a soldier’s
duty he had overtaxed himself at the
old post, or whether the hot Texas sun
was enfeebling his blood, which in the
clear, cold air of the northwest had
danced so joyously through his veins, or
whether too many thoughts were hum-
ming through his little head, no one
knew, but it was clear that Robin was
growing more delicate in spirit and
body. Each morning, awakened by the
morning gun which is fired at the first
note of reveille, he would, start up as if
to obey the call, and wistfully follow the
notes of the buglers marching around
the garrison, and then with a sigh of
relief would drop his head again upon
the pillow.
18 Robin's Recruzt.
REVEILLE.
Sree eco oe =F
Biel es oe —S
io!
I can’t get’em up, I can’t get’em up, I
SS
se eee pA
can’t get’em up this morning; I can’t get ’em up, I
Enda.
NG o__ p Bai Z re [ceili Raa
ee es alee f so
—_
can’t get em up, I can’t get’em up at all.
os
The corp'ral is worse than the pri - vate, The
ee ee
ser - geant’s worse thanthe cor - p’ral, The
a sa @ SREESUBE
& FE capes
iE
— “bee se ene ee ee oe ee
lieut.’s worse than the ser - geant, And the
D.C.
EG = |
cap - tain is worse than all.
Robin. 19
Directly opposite that part of the
parade-ground where Robin sat, the
major’s wife was talking to the doctor;
and as the children scampered past
them along the line, she said, —
“Do look at Robin Clancy; I wonder
what does make him so languid.â€
“Well, you know, dear little Mrs.
Clancy has n’t an idea how to bring up
a child,†joined in Mrs. Merton, who was
leaning over her gate. “I dined there
yesterday, and Robin was allowed to
have fried oysters, plum-cake, cheese,
and coffee; and when in the evening he
was sick his mother said to Susannah:
‘There now, Susannah, I knew he
would be sick when I saw you giving
him that cold water.â€
The doctor laughed, and then raising
his cap to the two ladies, crossed over
to where Robin still sat.
“Well, little man,†he said, stooping
20 Robin's Recrutt.
down by the child’s side, “didn’t you
want to go with the other children?â€
“ Why, yes,†answered Robin, “Z did,
but my legs didn’t. They are awful
lazy feeling somehow lately, but I won’t
stand it. I’m going to begin now, and
make ’em go. That’s what legs are for.â€
“Well, I would n’t be too severe,â€
said the doctor. “I think they ought
to be indulged just now, and have plenty
of rest.†But this advice roused all
‘Robin’s boyish impatience.
“They are my legs, and I say they
shall go,†he said rather crossly.
The doctor only smiled in response
to Robin’s vehemence, and dropping the
irritating subject, inquired if he took the
medicine regularly that he had sent to
him.
“Ye-es,†was the rather hesitating
reply. “That is, I didn’t take it at
first. I kept forgetting it, but I’m
Robin. 21
taking it regularly zow. I began this
morning.â€
The doctor shook his head over this
unsatisfactory patient, but he could not
scold him; for after his little burst of
temper Robin had flung an arm around
his friend’s neck, and was looking into
his eyes with that slow, warm smile that —
was so magnetic.
Then, just at that moment, there was
a clatter of a horse’s hoofs and shouts
of laughter, as Lieutenant Hall, with
little Edith beside him, rode along the
parade-ground, followed by the clam-
orous children.
When he reached Robin and the
doctor, he held in his horse, saying :
“ Hallo, boy, why did n’t you come for
a trot? Want to go?â€
Robin was as much at ease on a
horse as on a chair, and the lieutenant,
after handing Edith to the doctor,
22 Robin's Recrutt.
jumped off and slung him up into the
saddle, and Robin caught up the reins
and cantered gayly away.
“Ride straight round once, young
man!†screamed the lieutenant after
him; “mind you go no farther;†and
Robin waved his hand as an assurance
of obedience. ‘“ He rides like an Arab.
Nice boy; a little peaked, though, lately.
Can’t you chirk him up, Doctor?â€
But the doctor shook his head and
scowled, after a fashion he had when
he did not wish to be questioned, and
presently walked away toward Captain
Clancy’s quarters.
Meantime Robin was clattering past
the barracks,—- his white linen suit
accented against the glossy black skin
of the horse, his curly head, with its
jaunty red fez, thrown well back, his
eyes flashing, — a little atom of joyful
life in the gay morning sunshine.
Lobin. Be
“Who is that little kid?†asked
Doogan, who was standing by his quar-
ters watching the boy with those eyes
that Sergeant Corrigan had called
‘ vicious. “He ain’t bad to look at.â€
CHAPTER II,
AMONG THE ROSE-BUSHES.
“T WISH you would send one of the
men to dig round my roses,†said
Mrs. Clancy to the captain the next
morning at the breakfast table.
“One of the recruits is a rose cul-
turer, so he says,†answered the captain.
“T'll send 42m up.â€
“Qh,†said Robin, “ maybe it’s my
man,—the one I chose yesterday. I
hope so. What sort of a looking man
is he, father?â€
“Well, my boy, nobody in his senses
would ever choose this one,—an ugly
fellow that I shall have trouble with.
Among the Rose-bushes. 25
Such men ought not to be enlisted, for
they are a disgrace to the army.â€
“ Well; anyway,,you have ome good
recruit,†said Robin, cheerfully. “ AZy
man won't be a disgrace to the army.
What’s the rose culturer’s name ?â€
“It’s Doogan, — John Doogan.
A-h-h-h! what a fellow!â€
The captain pushed his chair from
the table as if the very thought of the
man took away his appetite, and pres-
ently went out.
That Captain Clancy was the hand-
somest and finest officer in the
infantry, was the unreserved opinion of
Mrs. Clancy and her son Robin. To
speak with more moderation, he was a
fine-looking officer with an air of com-
mand and a proud step, as if conscious
that he would never walk away from his
duty. He was a strict disciplinarian,
.
26 Robin's Recrutt.
but it is no light task to control so
many rough, turbulent men as_ were
under his command. Some of them
drank; some were insubordinate; and
now and then one deserted. Lieuten-
ant Hall and Lieutenant Spaulding, the
two other officers of Company B, did
not take these sins of the men on their
own consciences, but Robin sympathized
entirely with his father.
“ This fellow I chose won’t do any of
those horrid things,†Robin asserted,
with an air of pride, as he’and his
mother left the table together, “and he
is so splendid and ézg. I like men to
be big, and women to be little.â€
He stopped to give a gentle kiss to
the little woman at his side, and then
went on,—
“Isn't it lucky we got him? I was
so afraid he would belong to some other
Among the Rose-bushes. ee
company. There, there’s the call for
inspection. If youll come out on the
porch, Ill point him out to you, for the
recruits will be standing round looking
ons:
“Vou must think, sweetheart, I have
good eyes, to be able to see clear across
the parade-ground.â€
“JT think you have the loveliest eyes
of any lady in the regiment,†the boy
answered, looking admiringly into the
eyes of which his own were faithful
copies. “Everybody says so — no, not
everybody, because Arnold says zs
mother’s are the handsomest. It’s funny
how a fellow always thinks his mother
is handsome. I don’t mean me, of
course, because you ave, but other
fellows. You are not only the hand-
somest, but the best.â€
“Well, I ought to be a good mother,â€
Robins Recruit.
_
“T think you have the loveliest eyes of any lady in the regiment.â€
Among the Rose-bushes. 29
said Mrs. Clancy, pulling Robin into her
lap, “ when I have such a dear little son.â€
“ Land! there you two are at it again.
Love-makin’!†exclaimed the disgusted
voice of Susannah, who was clearing
away the breakfast dishes. “It’s awful
for a woman of good, plain everyday
feelin’s, with no fancy trimmin’s to
‘em, to have to hear it a-goin’ on all the
time. When it ain’t you an Robin,
it’s you an’ the capt’n, an’ every evenin’
it’s that silly Rosy an’ William Henry
Fudge in the kitchen. I never saw
such a house as this. Last evenin’, the
air bein’ pretty heavy with it here, I
went over to Mrs. Brown’s, thinkin’
‘t would be a relief to set awhile
with some sensible middle-aged body, an’
if there wasn’t Sarey an’ that Smith
that’s keepin’ company with her, a-hand-
squeezin’ together on the doorstep.â€
30 Robin's Recrutt.
“ Oh, my lovely Susannah, give us one
of your sweet kisses,†cried Robin,
throwing his arms around the waist of
the old servant. He could n’t forbear
to tease Susannah, and followed her
about the room, blowing kisses at her
and calling her extravagant, fond names.
Susannah was a privileged person in
the Clancy family. She would willingly
have gone to the stake for any one of
them, but she intended as long as she
lived here below to speak her mind with
perfect freedom to everybody, and par-
ticularly to Miss Maggy, as she called
Robin’s mother, whom she had taken
care of since her babyhood, and whom
she still regarded as a child.
“ Go along with you, Robin,†she said.
“Go to your mother. Se can stand
any amount of such nonsense. I must
say, Miss Maggy,†— here Susannah set
Among the Rose-bushes. BI
a dish down hard and turned round
with her arms akimbo, — “ I must say I
don’t like them words you an’ the capt’n
(an’ now Robin has caught ’em) uses
so free, like
darlin’ an’ dear-
est an’— an
sweetheart.
That last is aw-
ful, said Su-
sannah, with a
shudder. “In
my opinion a
man should n’t
ever allow him-
self to go beyond
dear before folks.
SUSANNAH. |
Now, Robin, suppose
you leave off kissin’ your ma an’ come
an’ take your medicine.â€
“Td rather kiss my ma,†answered
Robin, roguishly, but he followed poor
Susannah into the kitchen.
32 Robin's Recrutt.
Presently he returned with the infor-
mation that the man had come to dig
round the rose-bushes, and was already
at work in the garden.
“ He is my man, after all,†said Robin,
“and I’m going out to talk to him. Look
out the window and see what a splendid
strong fellow he is.â€
“Ts that your much-talked-of man?â€
cried Susannah, who had come in
behind Robin and now looked curiously
from behind the window-curtain over
her mistress’s shoulder. “ He looks like
a jail-bird, or wuss, if there be such. I
would n’t trust that critter with a fly.â€
Robin being already out of the room,
there was no one to stand up for poor
Doogan. Mrs. Clancy said, —
“Oh, Susannah, he zs rough-looking.
I don’t like to have Robin out there
with him.â€
Among the Rose-bushes. 33
“ Well, keep your eye on the pair of
"em every minute,’ Susannah advised.
“T’ve got to go back to the kitchen.â€
Dashing out into the little enclosure
in front of the house, Robin shouted a
blithe good-morning to Doogan, who
was standing with his back to him
spading up a flower-bed, and who re-
" turned his pleasant greeting in a dis-
couragingly gruff tone.
He was a magnificently made creature
of fine proportions, and an air of great
strength, but in his bold black eyes there
was an ugly, defiant look. Hardly more
than a boy, he already seemed to have
lived some rough, lawless life in which
his hand had been against every man
and every man’s hand against him.
But little Robin saw nothing of this,
and stood watching him with a look of
pride and proprietorship. At length,
3
34 Robin's Recrurt.
by ,way of conversation, he remarked:
“My father says you're a_ rose-cul-
turer. It sounds like a nice business,
but being a soldier is even nicer. How
do you think you'll like being a
soldier?â€
Doogan growled an answer that was
quite unintelligible to Robin; but there
was no mistaking the meaning of his
scowl, and his tone implied that the
taste he had had of soldiering was any-
thing but satisfactory.
“Well, I Zope you'll like it,†Robin
said. “I’m so glad you are in our
company. It was funny, wasn’t it, but
I chose you right in the beginning ?â€
“Chose me,†repeated Doogan, for
the first time bestowing a look upon
his companion.
“Yes, I chose you out of all the
recruits,†said Robin, smiling.
Among the Rose-bushes. 35
“What for?’’ questioned Doogan.
“ Because,†answered Robin, —“ be.
cause I liked your looks.â€
“ Cos he liked my looks!â€
Doogan smiled a queer sort of a
smile, and then added, —
“ Well, there ain’t any accountin’ for
taste, but mind you, sonny, beauty is
only skin deep.â€
“Tt wasn’t so much that, but I
thought you were kind of good and
pleasant,†Robin explained. “ Big
fellows are usually kind. I suppose it’s
because they feel sorry for other people
that are so much weaker.â€
“IT never see a more discernin’ little
chap. You ought to go into the dertec-
tive business when you grow up. Bein’
able to judge so accurate of character,
you ’d jest make yer mark.â€
“Thank you,†said Robin, who be-
36 Robin's Recrutt.
lieved himself complimented, “ but I’m
going to be an army-officer, so I can’t
be a — er — what was it you said?â€
“ Dertective,†suggested Doogan.
“Well, the perfession has lost an orna-
ment, that’s all. An’ so you thought
I was good an’ pleasant, did you?â€
“Yes,†answered Robin, promptly, “I
did. I told my father about you. I
told him he had got one recruit, any-
how, that would n’t drink or do any
of the things that make so much
trouble.â€
“Sech a discernin’ little chap!†again
murmured Doogan. “ An’ what did yer
pa say?â€
“TI don’t remember what he said, but
he was awfully glad, of course. He
did n't know which you were, though.â€
Robin stopped in confusion, suddenly
realizing what his father had said about
Among the Rose-bushes. By
Doogan before knowing that he was the
recruit of his son’s choice; but Doogan
did not notice Robin’s confusion, and
went on, —
“Yes, I’m about as good an’ pleasant
a feller as he’s likely to find. The
trouble is, 1’m most too good. I don’t
want to do nothin’ all day but to read
tracks.â€
“Oh, but there is so much to be
done, you know,†said the boy, doubt-
fully. ‘“ There’s drilling and target
practice and — and ever so many things.
A soldier has to work pretty hard, I
think.â€
“Well, I ain't any objection to
workin’. I’m_ willin’, jest perfectly
willin’ to work —say a couple o’ hours
every other Wednesday.â€
“Oh, you re joking,†said Robin, with
an air of relief. “I like people that
38 . feobin’s Recruzt.
joke, but I really thought you were in
earnest about the tracks. How did you
come to enlist?â€
“Yer see I’d heard that soldiers was
a pretty rough lot, an’ I thought my
example might do em good. ’T was, as
you may say, from a sense of dooty.
There now,†— Doogan interrupted him-
self, — “ these roses oughter do well.â€
“The trouble most years is that they
bloom too early, and a norther comes
along and nips all the buds,†ex-
claimed Robin.
“TI hope they won’t be sech bloomin’
idiots this year,†said Doogan, chuck-
ling over his joke, as he drove the spade
into the hard earth and turned it over
with an ease that was much admired by
his companion. ~
“You ’re just awful strong, are n’t
you?†the boy said presently. “ I suppose
Among the Rose-bushes. 39
your legs don’t ever shake when you try
to run, and something that ’s queer inside
of you doesn’t flutter and make you
dizzy ?â€
“Well, no; them sensations you
speak of ain’t common with me,†an-
swered Doogan, still with that curious
little chuckle of his. But suddenly he
left off digging, and turning round,
looked thoughtfully at Robin, saying,
“T hope you ain't describin’ any feel-
in’s of your own.â€
And then he burst out crossly, “I’d
like to know what that grave-face doctor
that’s a-kickin’ his heels down at the
hospittal is about not to give you some-
thing to set you up.â€
“Oh, he has given me something;
and I’m not exactly sick, Doogan, only
sort of shaky. I wouldn’t think any-
thing of it, I suppose, only I used to be
40 Robin's Recruzt.
so strong. Why, I never thought of
my legs, and didn’t know I had that
queer thing that flutters. Sometimes
I think perhaps I deserve it because I
used to be such a bully.â€
“An how was you a bully?†asked
Doogan, with flattering interest.
“Oh, I was always fighting. I used
to stay at the barracks a good deal, and
whenever a boy came along, the men
would say, —
“* Hullo, here comes fohnny Green’
(or whoever the boy was). ‘ I say, Robin,
he can lick you;’ and then, you know,
I felt obf#ged to fight. To tell the truth,â€
Robin went on confidentially, “I did n’t
want to fight. I was afraid—just a
very little afraid —the other boy might
hurt me, and I didn’t care so particu-
larly about hurting him, though of
course if one of us ad to be hurt, I
Among the Rose-bushes. 41
did n’t want it tobe me. But I mean
to be a soldier, and I can’t be a coward ;
when I thought of that I’d always
pitch in.†-
“You seem to have given up the
occypation now,†‘observed Doogan.
“ How’s that?â€
“Why, you see, my father explained
to me that if a brave man fights, it’s for
some good cause, and not just for the
sake of fighting. It’s lucky for me
there are other ways of showing one’s
courage,†said Robin, rather soberly,
“for most any fellow could whip me
now. There ave other ways; don’t you
think so, Doogan? â€
“Lots of ’em,— jest heaps,†said
Doogan, consolingly. “I wish I could
give you some of my strength. I might
spare enough to set up a little chap like
you, an’ never be the wuss for it.â€
42 Robin's Recrutt.
But Robin protested against this.
“It would be a pity for you to lose any
_ of your strength,†he said. “I should n’t
want to take it. You are going to do
so much for the men, you know.â€
Doogan’s work among the rose-bushes
was finished, and he was gathering to-
gether his tools, but he looked from
under his heavy brow at Robin, and
said earnestly, —
“See here, little un; all I said to you
was jest stuff. ’T warn’t true,— not a
word of it. I’m a terrible ugly. fellow,
a bad lot, not fit to be gassin’ here with
an innercent little chap like you. An’
I'll take it kindly — for your own sake,
mind yer —if you'll jest keep clear 0’
me in the future.â€
CHAPTER III.
THE ACCIDENT.
OBIN looked admiringly after the
splendid figure of Doogan as he
strode away across the parade-ground.
What the recruit had said made little
impression upon him, for he disposed of
the whole question on the ground that
modesty is the sister of virtue.
“T’m sure he’s a good man, — this
Doogan,†he said to himself. “I’m
going to hunt up Sergeant Corrigan,
and see what he has to say about him.â€
Sergeant Corrigan and Robin were
old friends, the tie between them being
their devotion to Company B. Often
they had long, confidential talks on the
character of the men, about whom they
44 Robin's Recrutt.
sometimes quarrelled, the sergeant hold-
ing dark views, born of a hard experi-
ence, on this subject.
Corrigan had married Robin’s former
nurse, and the boy considered himself a
friend of the family, taking a godfatherly
SERGEANT CORRIGAN’S HousE IN Soapsups Row.
sort of interest in the young Corrigans.
The sergeant lived in one of the line of
houses called Soapsuds Row, the resi-
dences of the regimental laundresses.
Although he had been a long time in
the service, and, being of an unusually
frugal nature, was in very comforta-
ble circumstances, his wife sometimes
earned at the wash-tub extra comforts,
— such as window-shades for her parlor,
The Accident. 45
or shoes for her boys, these articles
being considered enervating luxuries by
her more economical husband; and that
morning when Robin came in search of
the sergeant, Mary’s cheerful Irish face
greeted him over a steaming tub of
soldiers’ shirts. The baby was asleep ;
but Master Robin Corrigan, our hero’s
namesake, was skipping up and down
the room in excitement, having, after
nobody knows how many days of
patient angling, caught a small fish in
the creek. His tender-hearted mother
was vainly imploring him to return the
little fish to its native element.
“Sure, if Ido I can’t catch him ag’in
whin I’m wantin’ him,’ answered Bob,
with youthful foresight. “I’d_ better
be killin’ him now, an’ whin I ate him
for me dinner, I ll be sure of him.â€
“That kind of fish is n’t good to eat,â€
said Robin.
46 feobin’'s Recrutt.
“An’ did ye iver ate one, thin?â€
asked Bob, shrewdly.
“ Kill him, thin,the aisiest way, darlin’,
How? Well, sure, they say drownin’
do be the aisiest death of all,†said his
mother, who was a wit in her way,
winking at Robin. “Go put him in the
crick, me swate bye.â€
But little Bob had already dropped
the fish in the tub of scalding suds, and
with indignant roughness, Mary turned
him out of doors. The skirmish woke
up the baby, who doubled the noise by
his cries. Mary took him up, and set-
tling him in his carriage, asked Robin
if he would not, for friendship’s sake,
take him out of doors.
Robin could have devised a more
agreeable employment for himself than
taking Baby Corrigan for an airing.
He privately regretted having placed
The Accident. 47
himself within Mary’s reach; but he
was an obliging boy, and did not like
to refuse.
Down the hill, just below Soapsuds
+ ~SN is,
By THE CREEK.
Row, winds the lovely little stream
called Las Moras. Its banks are covy-
ered with verdure, so that its course is
48 Robin's Recruzt.
like a fresh green ribbon along the dry,
arid chaparral, or bush country, that
surrounds Fort Carey. The live-oaks,
often fringed with moss, overhang the
creek, upon whose smooth green water
glisten the white geese.
The banks of the stream were a fa-
vorite play-ground
of the laundresses’
children; and
there Robin found
Bob Corrigan, who
had comforted
himself for the loss
of his fish by the
capture of one of
his mother’s finest
roosters. He
called to Robin to
come and help
him teach the
rooster to swim, so
Bos CORRIGAN.
The Accident. 49°
that. he could enjoy himself on the
creek with the geese.
This novel and apparently benevolent-
project attracted Robin, who at once.
guided the perambulator down the bank
to where his young friend stood.
“The water is n’t deep enough right
here,†he said at length, having watched
with much interest the first unsuccessful
attempts. “You see, he gets right to
the bottom and walks out. You have.
to go into deep water to learn to swim.â€
“He’d be afther drownin’, an’ we
could n’t git him thin,†objected Bob.
Robin dived down into those mines
of wealth, his trouser pockets, and
drew forth a piece of twine. This he
tied to one of the legs of the rooster,
and stepping out on a rock, threw the
poor, loudly protesting creature out into
the water.
50 Robin's Recruzt.
“The geese swim here, and so of
course: the rooster can,†he said confi-
dently; but after repeated trials the
rooster proved quite unteachable.
“Innyhow, the water plases him
better now,†said Bob, by way of en-
couragement. “He don't kick at it
inny more.â€
A strange and silent submission had
succeeded the frantic expostulations
with which the rooster had sought to
convince the boys of the hopelessness
of their project; and an uncomfortable
misgiving moved Robin to pull it
ashore. He untied the string and tried
to make it stand, but the poor fowl fell
flatly on its side with its legs stuck out
stiffly.
“T’m afraid we’ve hurt it,†he said
anxiously to Bob, who, after poking it
with his fat fingers, declared “ ’t was only
°
The Accident. 51
tired out, the pore thing was, with all
the fuss he ’d been makin’,†and that he
would “carry it away to the coop for
rest.â€
Robin watched him with lively
‘remorse.
“T wish I had n't done it,†he said to
himself, as he pushed the perambulator
up the bank. “I’m afraid I worried
the poor rooster to death, and it’s a
. cowardly thing to tease helpless crea-
tures. Horatio never would have done
it, neither would any of those brave old
Spartans. Abraham Lincoln always
protected the weak. I’m afraid that I
shall grow up to be like Nero.â€
In his repentance, Robin did the best
thing he could, which was to devote
himself to present duty,—the care of
Baby Corrigan.
The thought that fifty cents would
make the loss good to Mary was con-
52 feobin’s Recrutt.
soling, but he told himself sadly that
he never could make it up to the
rooster,
There was a foot-bridge that crossed
the creek as a means of communication
between the post and the town, and to
Robin’s joy he now saw Sergeant Corri-
gan hurrying over it. He stopped
the baby-carriage, and saluted respect-
fully, while the sergeant, having given a
paternal caress to his son, took off his
cap and wiped the perspiration from his
forehead.
“I have been looking for you, Ser-
geant,†said Robin.
“ Well, I’ve been over to town, and on
bad business, too. I have been looking
after Kelly, who was missing at inspec-
tion this morning, and just as I ex-
pected, found him dead drunk down at
the Merry Mule. That town plays the
mischief with our men. There was
The Accident. 53
o
Myers just ruined there, and Kelly’s
following suit as fast as he can. By.
the great horn spoon,†went on the
sergeant, who in moments of great ex-
citement permitted himself this unique
oath, “we never had a poorer lot of
men than at present, — take ’em by the
lot, boy. And the recruits —for I’ve
sized ’em up—aren’t goin’ to be any
improvement.â€
“ Well, I guess you have n’t sized up
Doogan,†interrupted Robin. “ He’s all
right.â€
“Now you’re wrong there, Robin.
Fle is a bad lot, Ze is. You can see it
in his eye, and you can see it in the
whole bad face of him.’ He’ll never be
any credit to B Company, I'll warrant
you.â€
“T don’t think it’s fair to give a man
a bad name before you know anything
54 Robin's Recrutt.
against him. When Doogan has turned
out to be a good, brave soldier, you will
want to take back the mean thing
you ve said now.â€
Robin’s eyes glittered. He was
afraid he was severe on his old friend,
but his pity for Doogan, condemned
before he had been given a trial, urged
him on. Corrigan, deep in his own
thoughts, had not even noticed Robin’s
wrath.
“T should n’t be surprised if he had
deserted from some other regiment,†he
went on calmly. “ He says he’s been a
rose-culturer. Sounds dreadful inno-
cent, doesn’t it? I reckon he’s done
something in his life beside tending
posies. I think he’s a desperate sort of
a character. And the captain, I see,
thinks so too, though he doesn’t say
much, as of course he should n’t, — it
The Accident. 55
being, perhaps, as you say, a little pre-
vious. Yes, Ze’s a bad lot. Why, just
to see the color that flies into his ugly
face when an order is given him.â€
“Ugly face! I think he’s hand-
some!†cried Robin. “Why, Ser-
geant,’ he went on, measuring his
friend with a critical eye, “I believe
he could lift you up with his little
finger.â€
“Perhaps he could,— perhaps he
could,†answered the sergeant, good-
humoredly. “When it comes to
strength, that’s another matter. Did
you hear how some of the men tried to
keep him from passing over the bridge
this morning? You know it’s not wide
enough for more than one to pass at a
time, and they were coming over from
Plunkett.
“ When he saw what they were up to,
56 Robin's Recruzt.
he stood stockstill in the middle of the
bridge, and yelled to them to come on.
Though they had been as bold as you
please before, when they saw him stand-
ing there with his fist doubled up and
those black eyes of his glaring at ’em,
they didn’t seem to hanker after the
job of handling him. However, they
could n't back out, and so the first one
stepped on. Well, Doogan picked him
up and tossed him like a wisp of straw
over the bridge into the crick, and the
next man he tossed over the o¢her side
of the bridge. As for the rest of those
men, why, bless you, they huddled to-
gether like a lot of sheep on the Plun-
kett side without offering to set foot on
the bridge until Doogan had crossed
over and was halfway to town.â€
“Why, it was like Horatio, wasn’t
it?†exclaimed Robin, excitedly. “I
think it was splendid.â€
The Accident.’ 57
“Horatio? An’ who may he be?â€
questioned the sergeant, looking puzzled.
“ Why don’t you remember the piece,
Sergeant?
“Then out spake brave Horatio,
The captain of the gate:
‘To every man upon this earth
Death cometh soon or late.
And how can man die better
Than facing fearful odds
For the ashes of his fathers
And the temples of his gods?’â€
“Yes, I remember now, — the chap
you are so fond of outer the Roman
History; but as I recollect the piece,
this Horatio was a-fighting for his
country. That’s the meaning of the
ashes and temples, which are just
figgers of speech. So you see it was n’t
a similar case. However, since you've
taken a liking to him, I won’t disparage
Doogan. Give him time, an’ he’s sure
to show himself out, whatever he is.
KS) Robin's Recruzt.
Now I’m goin’ right along home, and
I'll take this little snipe back to his
mother. You had better go home too,â€
added Corrigan, with a sharp look at
Robin. “It’s getting hot, and if I was
you I’d get out of this sun. There’s
dinner-call now.â€
MESS.
ia EL, —¢
—— es fe vie |
Soup-y, soup-y, soup-y, with-out a -ny
@. ice che es
pf fo ee
bean, Pork-y, pork-y, pork - y,
a se Ss
weet [ef yey
ee et [ = = a
with-out a-ny lean, Cof -fee, cof- fee,
pS Sa
cof - fee, with - out a -ny cream.
The Accident. 59
So Robin’ began to climb the hill
toward the parade-ground. Meanwhile
his thoughts were of Doogan, whom he
was enthroning in one of the high
places in his heart with the heroes he
worshipped. Some of these were taken
from history, or legendary poems that
his mother taught him, and some were
unknown men whose brave deeds were
none the less inspiring because history
has not commemorated them, and
which live only in admiring hearts of
comrades.
He aspired to be a strong man him-
self, and strength implied valor with
Robin; but for the present, he could
hardly drag one weary foot after the
other. The sun, beating down on the
white limestone soil, blinded him. His
head swam, and a sudden sickness made
him think of the rooster, with a vague
60 Robin's Recruzt.
wonder if, as he lay there so stiff and
motionless, he had felt like this. Robin .
had now reached the top of the hill
where the barracks are. Along this
line came the ambulance, — a clumsy
old vehicle drawn by sleek government
mules. They came at their fastest
speed, for the driver was in haste to get
to the corral.
The soldiers sitting on the barrack-
steps shouted warningly to Robin, who
stood quite still directly in its course.
In that instant before the foremost mule
struck him, they wondered at his sup-
posed foolhardiness, then rushed to him;
while Lieutenant Hall, who had wit-
nessed the accident from the doorway
of headquarters, and two other officers
who were crossing the parade-ground,
also ran up. The mules had been in-
stantly reined in; and Hooley, the
The Accident. 61
driver, white with alarm, sat bending
over the seat looking at Robin. Every
face wore an air of tender anxiety; for
Robin, with his love of fun, his sensi-
bility, his heart full of love, and his
passionate admiration for what is great
and brave, was dear to every soul in the
old garrison. But, thank Heaven, the
bright spirit they loved still shone out
of those dark eyes that looked with such
brave reassurance into theirs. No one
could tell, however, how great his
injuries might be. Some one immedi-
ately started in search of the doctor;
another to prepare Mrs. Clancy for the
child’s coming. Then a stretcher was
brought, but when they would have
lifted him upon it, Robin shook his
head, saying, —
“Where is Doogan? I want Doogan
to carry me.â€
62 Robin's Recrutt.
There was a stir of surprise among
the men, but they moved away; and the
recruit, having been told of Robin's
wish, pushed through the crowd, and
stooping down, lifted him gently in his
strong, steady arms.
CHAPTER IV.
AN IMPATIENT PATIENT.
HERE was great rejoicing at
Fort Carey when the doctor had
given his opinion on Robin’s case, for
no bones were broken, and although the
doctor had not been able to decide the
extent of Robin’s injuries, he did not
think that any serious trouble need be
anticipated. A sprained back, however,
would cause the patient some pain, and
make care needful. There must be
many weary weeks before he could ex-
pect to run about the post as before.
Robin bore the sentence with cour-
age. It was just at guard-mount, and
the strains of martial music from the
64 Robin's Recruzt.
band burst on Robin’s ear as an accom-
paniment to the painful words, and
made them easier to bear.
“It was just at guard-mount.â€
The doctor was a warm admirer of
Robin, and having sympathy with his
moods, knew how to help him. bear his
misfortune.
“There are other emergencies that
measure a man’s. courage just as well as
An Impatient Patient. 65
a battle-field,†he said; “and many a
soldier, if he spoke the truth, would say
that the hardest fight he ever made was
in the hospital. It takes a stronger spirit
to conquer oneself than any other
enemy, so you must brace up, Robin,
and make a hard fight for patience.â€
From the window Robin caught the
bright scene on the parade-ground,
where, headed by the bandsmen in their
gay uniforms, the men, with their bayo-
nets gleaming in the late sunlight, were
now marching before the adjutant. He
could see the fine, erect figure of his
father, who, as the new officer of the
day, was standing with Captain Ball, the
old officer of the day, at the other end
of the field. All there was life and
motion, —a boy’s paradise, in which
there seemed no call for the humdrum
virtue the doctor praised. Then the
5
66. Robin's Recrutt.
band clanged and clashed in a final
flourish that was like a burst of triumph,
as the new guards marched to their post
at the guard-house, and a small boy with
a sprained back and brave heart also
went on duty.
“T never cared very much about
being patient,†he said; “it doesn’t seem
one of the boss virtues at all, and only
good for women who sit in the house
and sew. Perhaps it will be a good
plan to go in for it now when I can’t do
anything better. So, Doctor, I’m going
to try to be patient, and not make a
fuss, no matter how long I have to stay
quiet.â€
..--But this mood could not be expected
to last; to poor Robin, as to us all, there
come moments of trial when no martial
music inspires us with courage, and no
kind-friend isat hand to point out the
An. Impatient Patient. - 67
better way. Robin was no saint, only a
warm-hearted, human boy, whose good
resolutions would not always stand
test. At such times he declared he
would not even try to be patient, —
turned his face from his mother, and
had only cross words for poor, faithful
Susannah.
““Phere;, boy, dont take.on.. So,â€
Susannah begged | of him one day.
“Let’s be thankful it’s no worse, as
‘t well might have been.â€
“Thankful! I won’t be thankful!â€
Robin burst out crossly. “I suppose
I’ve got to bear it, but I won't be thank-
ful. And it’s zever so bad, Susannah,
that it might n’t be worse. If you break
your arm, it might have been your leg;
and if it’s your leg, why, it might have
been your neck. Anyhow, to sprain
your back is bad enough for me; and
68 Robin's. Recrutt.
you needn't think I’m going to jump
for joy because I’ve done it.â€
Then he flung his book on the floor
as a sample of the behavior she might
expect from him; but the next moment
he threw his arms around her neck,
owning that he was cross and begging
her to forgive him.
The book Robin flung away in his
pet was about a boy who, like himself,
was sick and obliged to keep quiet, but
the resemblance between the two
stopped here; for that boy was never
known to complain through all the four
hundred pages that described his woes.
When any one spoke to him of them, he
always answered. “in a gentle voice,â€
and to the effect that he did not mind
suffering at all. Robin thought that
this taste was peculiar, to say the least,
for he himself objected very strongly
An Impatient Patent. 69
to suffering, which always made him
cross instead of gentle. The boy in the
book seemed, too, always to wear a wan
smile.
Robin asked Susannah what sort of a
smile that was, and if she had ever
noticed that he smiled in that way. He
wished to play the rodle of invalid with
equal propriety, and asking for a hand-
glass, made many experiments in smiles,
but he was never able to produce any-
thing better than what he himself called
“a cross grin.â€
All this time there were constant
callers at the Clancys’ quarters with
inquiries for Robin. Many of the ladies
brought delicacies to tempt his appetite.
Sometimes for a few moments the
children were allowed to see him; and
often his friend Arnold came in to tell
him the news of the post, or to read to
70 Robin's Recruit.
him. After the unpleasant scene with
Susannah just described, Rose Milby
brought in her zither, and with her
nimble white fingers chased away all
Robin’s pain and ill-humor. Then
came a call from Lieutenant Hall, who
entertained him with anecdotes of a
remarkable dog he had, and left with
him for company a little horned toad
that he had found, for these gentle
little creatures are often made pets of
by Texan children.
Finally, his father, having come in
very tired from a court-martial, instead
of going as usual to the club, sat down
for a chat with his son; and directly
after, Mrs. Clancy, who had left him for
the first time since his accident that
afternoon, returned also, and the three
enjoyed together the quiet hour of
fading daylight.
An Impatient Patent. 71
Lulled by the low voices of these
dearest friends, Robin lay half asleep.
He was fast losing all consciousness of
his pleasant surroundings when a sud-
den turn in the conversation thoroughly
aroused him.
“ T had trouble with one of the recruits
to-day,†Captain Clancy was saying;
“nothing to speak of if I were not so
sure that it’s a forétaste of what’s to
come. I had ordered the man to be on
the ground for target. practice at one
o'clock, and he wasn’t on time. So I
sent for the sergeant, who, after looking
for him, reported that he was not in the
garrison. Lieutenant Hall waited half
an hour for him; and when he finally
came he said that he had been told
there was a letter for him in the post-
office, and had gone to town to get it,
meaning to be back on time.
7D Robin's Recruzt.
“«TDo you realize the enormity of your
offence in disobeying orders?’ I asked
him.
“He looked ugly, but he answered
respectfully enough that he hadn't
intended to disobey orders.
«“<« How is that ?’ said I.
“«T supposed I could get back in
time, he answered.
“« Did n’t you go to the Merry Mule?’
said I.
“‘Ves†he admitted; he had been
there, but only for a moment, and he
came away saying that he must be back
to target practice.
“Well, said I,‘do you know that I
can put you in the guard-house for four
months?’
“ He scowled and looked as black as a
Texas thunder-cloud, but he kept quiet ;
and I finally told him that as this was
An Impatient Patient. 73
his first offence, if the lieutenant agreed
I should let him off.â€
“What was his name, father?†asked
Robin.
“ Well, to tell the truth, it was your
man Doogan.â€
Captain Clancy laughed as if he
thought this rather a good joke on
Robin.
“Tf ’t was that Doogan, Captain
Clancy, I wish you’d clapped him into
the guard-house without any hemming
and hawing,†broke out Susannah, who
was lighting the wood-fire that made
the room so pleasant every evening. “ If
ever a man had an evil eye, he has; and
I had my forbodin’s of trouble when I
first saw him out there in the yard
lookin’ at Robin.â€
“ That’s nonsense, Susannah,†laughed
the captain ; “ the man has done no harm
74 Robin's Recrutt.
to Robin; but have patience, and he’ll
get himself into the guard-house fast
enough, if that ’s what you want.â€
“Lor, I don’t mean to say anything
now, but just wait till I get ahold of
that fellow.â€
Susannah snapped her lips together
as if she were afraid that if the vials of
wrath she had ready to pour upon the
offender were uncorked they might
evaporate.
“Everybody is down upon poor Doo-
gan, even to Susannah, but I’m sure
he’s a fine fellow,†exclaimed Robin.
“ Why, father, he said he didn’t mean
to disobey orders, and why don’t you
believe him? I just wish I could do
something to show that I am his friend,
and believe in him. If you knew how
good he was to me when he carried me
home that day, you would feel just as
An Impatient Patient. 75
- Ido. Mother, won’t you say something
kind for him?â€
Mrsv Clancy thought with a shudder
of the mari’s hard, bold face and the
shock it had given her to see the flower-
like one of her pretty boy so near it.
“Never mind about the recruit, dar-
ling. You are getting excited, and that
isn’t good for you. Well, then,†she
went on in answer to the beseeching
eyes of Robin, “ perhaps he is n’t as bad
as we think. It is true he was kind to
you.â€
“ Not so bad as he looks, for instance,â€
chimed in Susannah. “ Well, I’m sure I
hope he isn’t, Robin, else there is no
knowing what he might be doing
to us.â€
CHAPTER V.
ON THE CHAPARRAL,
INEDRLY a month passed after Rob-
in’s accident before he was able to
be out in the open air again. One
beautiful March day, however, Captain
Clancy ordered the ambulance, and
Robin and his mother drove into the
town.
It was a poor little place, with streets
that straggled out into the chaparral,
which surrounded it on all sides. The
houses were of one story, with little
gardens in front, where peach-trees,
honey-suckle, and roses were blooming
at the same time, in a bewildering
fashion to Northern eyes. The Mexican
On the Chaparral. 77
quarter was made up of little huts called
jacals, with a few feet of land enclosed
as a dooryard that was never cultivated,
but sometimes kind Nature thrust up a
- Spanish bayonet-plant for a decoration,
its numerous spikes pricking the vivid
blue sky. Everywhere swarmed the
dark-eyed, bare-legged, smiling Mexican
children, who perhaps envied Robin his
seat in the coach as much as he envied
them their splendid health
Although the driver chose his way
as carefully as he could, the jarring of
the ambulance soon became painful to
Robin, who begged to go home again;
and much discouraged, Mrs. Clancy
ordered the driver to return to the gar-
rison. After this experience Robin
cared to take no more drives.
Meantime, the men of Company B
had constructed for his use a softly roll-
78 feobin’s Recrutzt.
ing carriage, or chair on wheels.. The
most difficult part of the work was done
by Doogan, who, it seemed, had all arts
but that of making friends.
“ Being wheeled about the post.â€
Robin was pleased, not only by this
graceful attention, but also with. the
vehicle itself, in which he passed many
comfortable hours being wheeled about
the post. The soldiers liked being
On the Chaparral. 79
detailed for this duty; but they knew
that Doogan was the favorite charioteer,
and it gradually fell entirely to him to
perform it.
By degrees Mrs. Clancy overcame
her fears at seeing her little son carried
away by this vicious-looking young
soldier; and left by themselves, an inti-
macy grew up between them, — an
intimacy as between two congenial.
beings. What grace there was in the
nature of Doogan, seen only by: this
child friend, puzzled the people of Fort
Carey.
One day when Robin was being
wheeled up and down in front of his
father’s house, the fancy seized him to
be taken out on the chaparral. The pur-
ple frijolio, falsely called laurel, was then
in blossom, and acres and acres of the
-blooms burdened the air with an almost
80 Robin's Recrutt.
oppressive sweetness. Such a ramble
would take him out of earshot of the
children, shouting in so merry a fashion
in their play as to pain Robin with the
sense of his own misfortune.
“ They always seem to be having an
extra good time when I come by,†said
‘the poor little. disabled one, as Doogan
turned off. toward the gate through
which they must pass to get out on
the chaparral. “I’m tired of being like
this; I know I promised to try to be
patient, and I mean to be, only I must
have a chance to rest and be cross now
and then.â€
“Suppose I carry you for a bit. It
would make a change anyhow,†said
Doogan; and noticing that Robin’s face
brightened. a little at the suggestion, he
came round to the side of the chair. and
stooped down over him. Robin put his
On the Chaparral. 8I
arms around his neck, and smiled as
he felt himself lifted to the height of
Doogan’s_ shoulder.
“You’re so good, Doogan, I ought n’t
to fret so,†said Robin; “ but if a fellow
is going to be sick, he ought to be
brought up to it, and not have it sprung
on him all at once.†His arm tight-
ened around Doogan’s neck, and he
went on in a half whisper, “I never
thought I’d be like this. I always
thought sick people were so tiresome.
There was poor Huckins. You never
saw him, ’cause he died before you came,
but he was out in Dakota, and he used
to cough dreadfully, and it always made
me feel cross. It seemed as if he did it
on purpose, you know. When we were
ordered to Texas he thought he should
get over it, but he died just a little while
after he got here. I was sorry then
6
82 Robin's Recrutt.
that I had n’t been kinder to him, but
it’s no good to be sorry unless you are
sorry at the right time.â€
“ T would n’t think on such oncheerful
subjicts,†advised Doogan; and glancing
at the sweet face, showing so white upon
the dark blue of his blouse, he added,
“Tf I only could give you a part of my
strength, Captain Robin, you’d see how
quick I'd do it.â€
“Why, you ave giving it tome. Aren't
your legs carrying both of us? I feel
almost as if they were partly mine, you
let me have ’em so often. Good legs,â€
said Robin, with a glance downward that
Susannah would certainly have called
sentimental. “ The first time I ever saw
°em — when I picked ’em out among a
lot of crooked, knock-kneed, slouchy ones
—I didn’t think they would ever carry
me about on this chaparral. You know
On the Chaparral. 83
I fell in love with you, Doogan, at first
sight.â€
“Some might say you was easily
pleased,†said Doogan, grinning. “ But
now tell me, Captain Robin, if there ain’t
some other way you might make use 0’
my strength. What do you want to do-
that you ain’t strong enough for?â€
“ Let mesee,†said Robin, reflectively ;
“well, you know the lone-stars are out
now, —the parade-ground is just covered
with them,—and I would like to gather
a bunch of them every morning for
Susannah, as I did last year. Nobody
ever sends Susannah flowers.â€
“ Lord, I should n’t think they would!â€
ejaculated Doogan, who admired Susan-
nah no more thansheadmired him. “I'd
as soon think of sendin’ flowers to a gov-
ernment mule. However, if ’t will please
you, Captain Robin, I'll pick them stars
84 Robin's Recruzt.
as willin’for her as a feller would for his
sweetheart. An’ now what else is there?â€
Robin laughed rather roguishly, and
then said, —
“T was thinking yesterday that if I
"was only well again, I’d sometimes on
washing-days take 1 yey Comeee s baby
out in its carriage.â€
Doogan looked blank at this, and
said, “ Well, I should smile! Ain’t Ser-
geant Corrigan the strength to trot round |
his own kids?â€
“Ves, but I should like to do it for
Mary. I remember that time she asked
me I didn’t exactly —â€
« Hanker after the job,†put in Doogan.
“That’sit. Ididn’t exactly hanker
after the job,†repeated Robin. “I
remember I thought that babies were a
great nuisance; but of course if there
are n’t any babies, there won’t be any
On the Chaparral. 85
boys and men; and then, we all had to
be taken care of ourselves once — even
you, Doogan. When I wasa baby, Mary
Corrigan must have taken me out no
end of times, and so I’d like to—â€
“ Return the favor, as ’t were,’ Doo-
gan suggested. “ Well, I see how 't is.
But that baby o’ Corrigan’s is a terror.
I saw it yesterday, an’ it was flappin’ its
mouth together like a horn-pout. It
makes me sick to look at it. However,
you ‘ve but to say the word, an’ I’ll be
like a lovin’ mother to it.â€
“ Doogan, what a good old fellow you
are!†Robin burst out. “But I was
in fun. It was just a test. Don’t you
know in the fairy-stories how the prince
has to be willing to do all sorts of hard
things as a test of his love for the prin-
cess? I would n’t really have you do it
for anything, the men would laugh so.
86 Robin's Recrutt.
I’m not going to have the men laugh
at you.†:
“Laugh at me/ They aren’t so howl-
ing anxious for a quarrel,†said Doogan,
grimly; and, in truth, there were few
among the soldiers that cared to measure
their strength with this young giant.
«“An’ what else are you wantin’
strength for? Now no more o’ them
tests.â€
“Well, there’s poor Huckins, you
know.â€
« Huckins ! well, he’s dead an’ buried,â€
Doogan answered cheerfully.
“Ves; he’s buried over there in the
soldiers’ cemetery with stones over his
grave, and only a rickety wooden cross
to show where he lies. He was a good
brave soldier, Doogan, and sometimes I
would like to go up there, and put some ©
flowers around, to show that he wasn’t
forgotten.â€
On the Chaparral. 37
« Well, now, that sort of work is jest-
in my line, bein’ in the sentimental busi-
ness at present.†Doogan laughed with
that low, good-humored chuckle of his
that no one but Robin ever heard. “I
will go up there to-morrow, an’ sprinkle
about a few o’ them lone-stars I shall
gather for my sweetheart, — the beaute-
ous Susannah.â€
“ Oh, but you mustn't! You must n’t
call her that,†interrupted Robin, looking
over Doogan’s shoulder as if he expected
to see the wrathful face of Susannah
behind them.
“T’ll sprinkle ’em on one of the graves
up there, and it’s as likely to be Huck-
inses as anybody’s.†Doogan went on:
“Or if you would like, Captain Robin,
I'll take you up there yourself, an’ you
can point out the right one to me, though
I’m not ‘in favor of your bein’ in
88 Robin's Recrutt.
them lonely spots. But anyhow, now
it’s time I was a-takin’ you home, or the
folks there’ll be a-makin’ up their minds
that I’m a-murderin’ you.â€
The following morning, as Robin was
lying on the sofa in the parlor, Susannah
brought in a huge bunch of lone-stars,
which, in high dudgeon, she flung into
his lap.
“Your beautiful Doogan has just
brought ’em,†she said; “the imperdent
thing came here, grinning like a chessy
cat, and said they was for me.â€
“They are for you, but they are n’t
exactly from Doogan. You see, Susan-
nah, Doogan feels sorry for me because
I’m not strong enough to do anything,
and he says I shall have part of his
strength. I’m to call it mine, he says,
and use it just as I want to, and I told
him I guessed I'd use a little to get these
lone-stars for you.â€
On the Chaparral. 89
Robin held out the flowers entreat.
ingly, but Susannah would not look at
them, and answered sharply, —
“Tain’t going to have any man sprawl. -
ing round on the parade-ground, picking
flowers for me. I’ve had plenty to hum-
ble my pride in my time, but I ain’t sunk
so low yet as that.â€
“T don’t want you tosink low. Ifyou
feel so, I’ll tell Doogan not to bring any
more,†said Robin. “I’ve always got
them for you, though, ever since we nye
been at Fort Carey, and I thought
you 'd miss them this year.â€
“ And so I would, Robin,†cried Susan-
nah, dropping her easterly tone, and
suddenly veering round into a warm,
comfortable quarter; “lone-stars is lone-
stars, whoever picks ’em, and I'll put
these now in water, with many thanks
’
to you.’
Robin's Recrutt.
“J ain't going to have any man sprawling on the parade-
ground, picking flowers for me.â€
On the Chaparral. ont
As long as the lone-stars bloomed, a
bunch came regularly each morning for.
Susannah, who greeted their sweet, pure
faces with a wry one of her own, no doubt,
but, for love of Robin, meekly accepted
them.
A norther that had sprung up in the
night prevented Robin from going out
the next morning, and after that a bad
cold confined him for several days to the
house, so that a long time passed before
he again saw Doogan.
CHAPTER VI.
A SAD BIRTHDAY.
i was directly after breakfast, and
Robin had been comfortably settled
on his sofa, while his mother, with her
pretty fancy-work in hand, sat devotedly
near, ready to be as amusing as she
knew how.
To furnish entertainment for such
long periods is a good deal of a tax
on one’s ingenuity, and Mrs. Clancy
was thankful for a sudden interest on
Robin’s part in her own work. She
even submitted to his rather rough
handling of her delicate materials, while
he investigated the process of making
a handkerchief-case.
A Sad Birthday. 93
“ Who is it for, anyhow?†he asked at
length, sniffing vigorously at the helio-
trope powder that was to scent the sides
of the case. “I never had one of these,
and I think it’s because I never had
such a good place to keep ’em in that I
lose so many of my handkerchiefs.â€
“You shall have one, if you would like
it,†said Mrs. Clancy. There were few
things this tender little mother would
refuse her poor boy at that time. “ But
this one is for Lieutenant Hall. He is
to have a birthday next week, and it’s
pleasant, you know, to have your friends
remember you on that day.â€
Robin assented to this. He was think-
ing that when once he had given Doogan
a photograph of himself he had remarked
that no one before had ever made him a
present. Robin did not consider a pho-
tograph a present at all.
94 Robin's Recruzt.
“ Mother,†he said, “it’s going to be
Doogan’s birthday next week too, and I
want to make Azm a present.â€
Mrs. Clancy gave instant consent to
this plan, looking upon the gift as an
acknowledgment of the kindness Doo-
gan had shown him.
“ Oh, I don’t wish to do it for that!â€
Robin protested; “ we're friends, you
know. But it’s just as you said when
you were speaking of Lieutenant Hall,
pleasant to have your friends remember
you. I want to give him something nice,
though.â€
“Have you thought of anything in
‘particular? It’s rather hard to select
a present for Doogan.â€
“ No, I don’t think it isatall. Ishould
give him just what I’d give anybody —
any other friend.â€
“T would give him the money, Robin,
A Sad Birthday. 95
and let him select something to please
himself,†his mother advised; but Robin
shook his head decidedly, and asked, —
“Why did n’t you give the money to
Lieutenant Hall, and let him select 4zs
present?†.
Mrs. Clancy laughed at this, and the
captain threw in the suggestion that
Robin should buy a bag of tobacco, as a
gift Doogan would be likely to appreciate.
“1 think he might like a pipe, perhaps,â€
said his mother. “ Would you like to
give him that, Robin?â€
But this proposal, with its patronizing
assumption of Doogan’s want of taste
for the niceties of life, much displeased
Robin, who waved it away in silent scorn,
and sat looking so significantly at the
handkerchief-case that it was an easy
matter for his mother to read his thought.
“Do you think it would make a suit-
96 Robin's Recruzt.
able present for him?†she said merrily,
holding up her dainty work, while his
father roared, and Robin, too, joined in
the laugh.
He laughed, however, merely because
the others laughed, and not at all because
he appreciated the joke. He thought
the handkerchief-case none too fine for
his friend, and his mind was not to be
shaken by sarcasm.
“You promised me one, mother,†he
said earnestly, “and I shall take it for
Doogan. I mean to pay for all the
things, though, myself, with the dollar
father gave me for not making a row
when the doctor examined my back. I
shall have it made of white satin, with
rosebuds embroidered on it like this one,
white lace round the edge, and pink bows
in the corners, and plenty of the smelly
stuff inside.â€
A Sad Birthday. 97
They laughed again, and the captain
said there ought to be a Shakspearian
quotation somewhere, as Doogan was,
no doubt, a lover of poetry; to which
jest Robin replied stanchly that Doogan
liked poetry as well as anybody.
Perseverance met with its just reward,
and the day before Doogan’s birthday,
such a handkerchief-case as Robin had
described was wrapped up by him, with
a card inside bearing his name and good
wishes. It was a delicate, dainty thing,
“jest fit to give to a bride,†as Susannah
said, with a disapproving sniff. Even
Susannah had contributed to the celebra-
tion of Doogan’s birthday, having been
wheedled into making for him a birthday
cake.
“I’ve no doubt he ’ll know what to do
with this,†she said, as she brought the
cake in on a plate for Robin’s pleased
7
|
The Baldwin Library
University
mB ws
Florida
fitgh B Moers
Poe
oe ACME.
ROBIN’S RECRUIT.
“Ride straight round once, young man.†— Page 22. °
RoOBIN'S
RECRUIT.
BY
A. G. PLYMPTON,
AUTHOR OF
“ Dear Daughter Dorothy,â€â€™ ‘ Betty, a
Butterfly,’’ ‘‘ The Little Sister
of Wilifred.†| il
Ellustratey bo the Author.
BOSTON:
ROBERTS BROTHERS.
1893.
Copyright, 1898,
By A. G. PLYMPTON,
Aniversity ress :
JoHNnN WILSON AND Son, CAMBRIDGE, U.S.A.
DEDICATED
Dw
Bi
\
CHAPTER
I.
Il.
IT.
Iv.
V.
Vi.
Vil.
VIII.
IX.
XI.
CONTENTS.
ROBIN .
AMONG THE ROSE-BUSHES
THE ACCIDENT
An IMPATIENT PATIENT .
ON THE CHAPARRAL
A Sap BIRTHDAY
DOOGAN’S STORY
EARLY EXPERIENCES .. .
A DESERTING SOLDIER .
DIAN GE Rige Sepestraes trols gute
CONCLUSION
PaGE
24
43
63
76
92
. III
. 129
» 145
. 158
176
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.
. PAGE
“ Ride straight round once, young Man†— Frontispiece
Doogan. .. .- ees 9
“T think you have the eaies yee of any Lady
intthe Repimenty aes oe ukch ee ictdy gk gO
Susannahigeetec enact pn zone secs tear ste suneae 3 I
Sergeant Corrigan’s House in hSoapecds Row . 44
By the Creek. © 6. ee ee eee ee AP
(SG) Coiastina Pog el idegs hg a. o ace 9 AB
“Jt was just atGuardmountâ€. . . . . . . 64
“ Being wheeled about the Post†. ....- 78
“JT ain’t going to have any Man sprawling on
the Parade-ground, picking Flowers for me†go
“He had laid his Head on his Arms, eae to
hide his Mortification†. . IOI
“Was enough to make one’s best nen wince†104
“ Sitting by the disused Blacksmith’s Shop†. 114
“ Doogan sat moodily by himself on the Barrack
Orch re ae ee mite ec eA)
“It made her Heart ache to look at this little,
_ quiet Shadow of her once active, rugged
BOY eee oe Sie eee oe TOL
ROBIN’S RECRUIT.
CHAPTER I.
ROBIN.
NeeOpe ever
could tell why
Robin caredsomuch
for Doogan. Every
one else at Fort Ca-
rey had a bad word
for the young
soldier, and it
must be admit-
ted that there
were many glar-
ing defects in
DooGan
his character.
“He’s got a hard face on him, and
a terrible vicious eye,†said Sergeant
10 Robin's Recruzt.
Corrigan to the captain. “I reckon
he'll prove troublesome.â€
But let us begin at the very beginning,
on the morning when Robin first saw
Doogan among the recruits.
The children were standing near the
building called headquarters, which
fronted the north side of the parade-
ground. Guard-mount was just over,
and the bugler’s last notes were piercing
the air as the bandsmen marched away
to their quarters. Some recruits who
had been brought to Fort Carey the
previous night were now waiting at
headquarters to be assigned to the
different companies, and the children
were discussing the appearance of the
men.
“T choose that big one at the end of
the line,’ said Robin; “I hope he'll
belong to B Company.â€
Robin. II
4 Why, that man is the scrubbiest of
the whole lot. I would n’t choose zm,â€
said Arnold. “ He looks horrid.â€
The other children agreed with
Arnold, who went on, —
“See what an ugly red face he has;
and when he scowls — there, see, he is
scowling now at the orderly. He’s no
good.â€
“ Perhaps the orderly has done some-
thing that ough¢ to be scowled at. I’m
sure that recruit is a first-rate fellow.
Just see how straight and tall he is, —
makes the others look like dwarfs. My,
but he is strong, though! I tell you,
Arnold, he looks like poor Brown, that
got killed fighting Indians when we
were out in Dakota. Yes, sir; this
recruit is splendid and strong and big
- and brave, just like Brown.â€
In his earnestness Robin’s voice rose
12 Robin's Recrutt.
high. The little fellow was carried
away by his enthusiasm; and the more
he talked, the more he admired the
young recruit, whose splendid physique
had caught his boyish fancy. Having
no better material, Robin could always
make heroes out of very common clay,
for heroes to worship was a necessity of
his nature. He saw virtues more easily
than faults, and he clung to his own
generous opinion against that of colder
and more experienced persons. It may
be that with his warm, loving heart he
discovered many truths these sharp
people missed.
The little squad of men, of whom
Robin’s recruit formed one, were now
being marched away to the soldiers’
barracks, and presently turned in to
the last one of the row. These were
the quarters of Company B, of which
2
Leobin. 13
Robin’s father was captain, and which
Robin called his.
“Well, my father will have one good
one this time. He says the worst ones
usually fall to him,†said Robin, and
after a pause he went on,—
“T wonder how those men like the
looks of Texas. They came from New
York, you know. It’s sort of different
here.†He looked’ reflectively over the
landscape, with its stretches of scraggy
plains lying so -quiet and featureless
under a wide blue sky, while at the
same time memory called up the picture
of the great city which he had once
visited. .““I wonder if they know how
HOG Its: come. to ibe.:
“And about the tarantulas,†said
Arnold; “ my cousin never saw one till
she came here.â€
“ And the rattlesnakes.â€
14 Robin's Recrutt.
“And the centipedes,†cried the
children, in an alarming chorus.
“We had a centipede in our house.
yesterday,†cried Edith, with a touch
of pride in her shrill little voice. “It
was a big one, and I helped kill it. I
jumped round and screamed as loud
as I could while Hannah got the tea-
kettle and poured boiling water on it.
It curled right up and died then, and
I took it out on ashovel. I wasn’t a
bit afraid.â€
There were no comments made on
Edith’s bravery, for just at that moment
the children caught a glimpse of Lieu-
tenant Hall on his pretty black, horse at
the other end of the long line of houses
where the families of the officers lived.
Sometimes this amiable young man took
the children in turns for a canter around
the parade-ground, so at sight of him
Robin. 15
there was a simultaneous rush of little
trousered legs and a flutter of white
frocks. Robin made a movement as if
he would follow them, but finally sat
down on the parade-ground.
He was a beautiful boy, with soft dark
eyes that sometimes flashed gloriously,
and a clear skin through which, when
he was much moved, the. hot color
always burned. His head was covered
_ with short brown curls that now in the
bright sunshine shone golden. As a
little child he had been remarkable for °
strength and spirit. The men of Com-
pany B told many a tale of those wild
days in the Indian country, when at the
age of three he had first joined them:
how at four o’clock every morning at
reveille, his name being called by the
sergeant, the little fellow would be in his
place at the end of the line, — Private
16 Robin's Recrutt.
Clancy, with figure erect, head up, and
serious, stolid face. On pay-day he was
paid regularly with the men, — five
cents from the paymaster’s own pocket.
Once, — this was a favorite anecdote in
B Company, — when the men were
being vaccinated, the soft baby arm of
Master Robin was presented in turn
with the brawny arms of the soldiers,
and he would not go away until he had
shared this duty.
But while this child’s play was
allowed at that little two-company post
where Captain Clancy was then stationed,
in the large garrison at Fort Carey, with
stern old Colonel Bisby commanding,
no such unmilitary performances were
possible. The men were very sorry for
Robin, who used frequently to go down
to the barracks and bewail his expulsion
from the ranks, but in reality he no
Robin. 17
longer had the strength to bear his
former self-imposed hardships; whether
in his ambition to perform all a soldier’s
duty he had overtaxed himself at the
old post, or whether the hot Texas sun
was enfeebling his blood, which in the
clear, cold air of the northwest had
danced so joyously through his veins, or
whether too many thoughts were hum-
ming through his little head, no one
knew, but it was clear that Robin was
growing more delicate in spirit and
body. Each morning, awakened by the
morning gun which is fired at the first
note of reveille, he would, start up as if
to obey the call, and wistfully follow the
notes of the buglers marching around
the garrison, and then with a sigh of
relief would drop his head again upon
the pillow.
18 Robin's Recruzt.
REVEILLE.
Sree eco oe =F
Biel es oe —S
io!
I can’t get’em up, I can’t get’em up, I
SS
se eee pA
can’t get’em up this morning; I can’t get ’em up, I
Enda.
NG o__ p Bai Z re [ceili Raa
ee es alee f so
—_
can’t get em up, I can’t get’em up at all.
os
The corp'ral is worse than the pri - vate, The
ee ee
ser - geant’s worse thanthe cor - p’ral, The
a sa @ SREESUBE
& FE capes
iE
— “bee se ene ee ee oe ee
lieut.’s worse than the ser - geant, And the
D.C.
EG = |
cap - tain is worse than all.
Robin. 19
Directly opposite that part of the
parade-ground where Robin sat, the
major’s wife was talking to the doctor;
and as the children scampered past
them along the line, she said, —
“Do look at Robin Clancy; I wonder
what does make him so languid.â€
“Well, you know, dear little Mrs.
Clancy has n’t an idea how to bring up
a child,†joined in Mrs. Merton, who was
leaning over her gate. “I dined there
yesterday, and Robin was allowed to
have fried oysters, plum-cake, cheese,
and coffee; and when in the evening he
was sick his mother said to Susannah:
‘There now, Susannah, I knew he
would be sick when I saw you giving
him that cold water.â€
The doctor laughed, and then raising
his cap to the two ladies, crossed over
to where Robin still sat.
“Well, little man,†he said, stooping
20 Robin's Recrutt.
down by the child’s side, “didn’t you
want to go with the other children?â€
“ Why, yes,†answered Robin, “Z did,
but my legs didn’t. They are awful
lazy feeling somehow lately, but I won’t
stand it. I’m going to begin now, and
make ’em go. That’s what legs are for.â€
“Well, I would n’t be too severe,â€
said the doctor. “I think they ought
to be indulged just now, and have plenty
of rest.†But this advice roused all
‘Robin’s boyish impatience.
“They are my legs, and I say they
shall go,†he said rather crossly.
The doctor only smiled in response
to Robin’s vehemence, and dropping the
irritating subject, inquired if he took the
medicine regularly that he had sent to
him.
“Ye-es,†was the rather hesitating
reply. “That is, I didn’t take it at
first. I kept forgetting it, but I’m
Robin. 21
taking it regularly zow. I began this
morning.â€
The doctor shook his head over this
unsatisfactory patient, but he could not
scold him; for after his little burst of
temper Robin had flung an arm around
his friend’s neck, and was looking into
his eyes with that slow, warm smile that —
was so magnetic.
Then, just at that moment, there was
a clatter of a horse’s hoofs and shouts
of laughter, as Lieutenant Hall, with
little Edith beside him, rode along the
parade-ground, followed by the clam-
orous children.
When he reached Robin and the
doctor, he held in his horse, saying :
“ Hallo, boy, why did n’t you come for
a trot? Want to go?â€
Robin was as much at ease on a
horse as on a chair, and the lieutenant,
after handing Edith to the doctor,
22 Robin's Recrutt.
jumped off and slung him up into the
saddle, and Robin caught up the reins
and cantered gayly away.
“Ride straight round once, young
man!†screamed the lieutenant after
him; “mind you go no farther;†and
Robin waved his hand as an assurance
of obedience. ‘“ He rides like an Arab.
Nice boy; a little peaked, though, lately.
Can’t you chirk him up, Doctor?â€
But the doctor shook his head and
scowled, after a fashion he had when
he did not wish to be questioned, and
presently walked away toward Captain
Clancy’s quarters.
Meantime Robin was clattering past
the barracks,—- his white linen suit
accented against the glossy black skin
of the horse, his curly head, with its
jaunty red fez, thrown well back, his
eyes flashing, — a little atom of joyful
life in the gay morning sunshine.
Lobin. Be
“Who is that little kid?†asked
Doogan, who was standing by his quar-
ters watching the boy with those eyes
that Sergeant Corrigan had called
‘ vicious. “He ain’t bad to look at.â€
CHAPTER II,
AMONG THE ROSE-BUSHES.
“T WISH you would send one of the
men to dig round my roses,†said
Mrs. Clancy to the captain the next
morning at the breakfast table.
“One of the recruits is a rose cul-
turer, so he says,†answered the captain.
“T'll send 42m up.â€
“Qh,†said Robin, “ maybe it’s my
man,—the one I chose yesterday. I
hope so. What sort of a looking man
is he, father?â€
“Well, my boy, nobody in his senses
would ever choose this one,—an ugly
fellow that I shall have trouble with.
Among the Rose-bushes. 25
Such men ought not to be enlisted, for
they are a disgrace to the army.â€
“ Well; anyway,,you have ome good
recruit,†said Robin, cheerfully. “ AZy
man won't be a disgrace to the army.
What’s the rose culturer’s name ?â€
“It’s Doogan, — John Doogan.
A-h-h-h! what a fellow!â€
The captain pushed his chair from
the table as if the very thought of the
man took away his appetite, and pres-
ently went out.
That Captain Clancy was the hand-
somest and finest officer in the
infantry, was the unreserved opinion of
Mrs. Clancy and her son Robin. To
speak with more moderation, he was a
fine-looking officer with an air of com-
mand and a proud step, as if conscious
that he would never walk away from his
duty. He was a strict disciplinarian,
.
26 Robin's Recrutt.
but it is no light task to control so
many rough, turbulent men as_ were
under his command. Some of them
drank; some were insubordinate; and
now and then one deserted. Lieuten-
ant Hall and Lieutenant Spaulding, the
two other officers of Company B, did
not take these sins of the men on their
own consciences, but Robin sympathized
entirely with his father.
“ This fellow I chose won’t do any of
those horrid things,†Robin asserted,
with an air of pride, as he’and his
mother left the table together, “and he
is so splendid and ézg. I like men to
be big, and women to be little.â€
He stopped to give a gentle kiss to
the little woman at his side, and then
went on,—
“Isn't it lucky we got him? I was
so afraid he would belong to some other
Among the Rose-bushes. ee
company. There, there’s the call for
inspection. If youll come out on the
porch, Ill point him out to you, for the
recruits will be standing round looking
ons:
“Vou must think, sweetheart, I have
good eyes, to be able to see clear across
the parade-ground.â€
“JT think you have the loveliest eyes
of any lady in the regiment,†the boy
answered, looking admiringly into the
eyes of which his own were faithful
copies. “Everybody says so — no, not
everybody, because Arnold says zs
mother’s are the handsomest. It’s funny
how a fellow always thinks his mother
is handsome. I don’t mean me, of
course, because you ave, but other
fellows. You are not only the hand-
somest, but the best.â€
“Well, I ought to be a good mother,â€
Robins Recruit.
_
“T think you have the loveliest eyes of any lady in the regiment.â€
Among the Rose-bushes. 29
said Mrs. Clancy, pulling Robin into her
lap, “ when I have such a dear little son.â€
“ Land! there you two are at it again.
Love-makin’!†exclaimed the disgusted
voice of Susannah, who was clearing
away the breakfast dishes. “It’s awful
for a woman of good, plain everyday
feelin’s, with no fancy trimmin’s to
‘em, to have to hear it a-goin’ on all the
time. When it ain’t you an Robin,
it’s you an’ the capt’n, an’ every evenin’
it’s that silly Rosy an’ William Henry
Fudge in the kitchen. I never saw
such a house as this. Last evenin’, the
air bein’ pretty heavy with it here, I
went over to Mrs. Brown’s, thinkin’
‘t would be a relief to set awhile
with some sensible middle-aged body, an’
if there wasn’t Sarey an’ that Smith
that’s keepin’ company with her, a-hand-
squeezin’ together on the doorstep.â€
30 Robin's Recrutt.
“ Oh, my lovely Susannah, give us one
of your sweet kisses,†cried Robin,
throwing his arms around the waist of
the old servant. He could n’t forbear
to tease Susannah, and followed her
about the room, blowing kisses at her
and calling her extravagant, fond names.
Susannah was a privileged person in
the Clancy family. She would willingly
have gone to the stake for any one of
them, but she intended as long as she
lived here below to speak her mind with
perfect freedom to everybody, and par-
ticularly to Miss Maggy, as she called
Robin’s mother, whom she had taken
care of since her babyhood, and whom
she still regarded as a child.
“ Go along with you, Robin,†she said.
“Go to your mother. Se can stand
any amount of such nonsense. I must
say, Miss Maggy,†— here Susannah set
Among the Rose-bushes. BI
a dish down hard and turned round
with her arms akimbo, — “ I must say I
don’t like them words you an’ the capt’n
(an’ now Robin has caught ’em) uses
so free, like
darlin’ an’ dear-
est an’— an
sweetheart.
That last is aw-
ful, said Su-
sannah, with a
shudder. “In
my opinion a
man should n’t
ever allow him-
self to go beyond
dear before folks.
SUSANNAH. |
Now, Robin, suppose
you leave off kissin’ your ma an’ come
an’ take your medicine.â€
“Td rather kiss my ma,†answered
Robin, roguishly, but he followed poor
Susannah into the kitchen.
32 Robin's Recrutt.
Presently he returned with the infor-
mation that the man had come to dig
round the rose-bushes, and was already
at work in the garden.
“ He is my man, after all,†said Robin,
“and I’m going out to talk to him. Look
out the window and see what a splendid
strong fellow he is.â€
“Ts that your much-talked-of man?â€
cried Susannah, who had come in
behind Robin and now looked curiously
from behind the window-curtain over
her mistress’s shoulder. “ He looks like
a jail-bird, or wuss, if there be such. I
would n’t trust that critter with a fly.â€
Robin being already out of the room,
there was no one to stand up for poor
Doogan. Mrs. Clancy said, —
“Oh, Susannah, he zs rough-looking.
I don’t like to have Robin out there
with him.â€
Among the Rose-bushes. 33
“ Well, keep your eye on the pair of
"em every minute,’ Susannah advised.
“T’ve got to go back to the kitchen.â€
Dashing out into the little enclosure
in front of the house, Robin shouted a
blithe good-morning to Doogan, who
was standing with his back to him
spading up a flower-bed, and who re-
" turned his pleasant greeting in a dis-
couragingly gruff tone.
He was a magnificently made creature
of fine proportions, and an air of great
strength, but in his bold black eyes there
was an ugly, defiant look. Hardly more
than a boy, he already seemed to have
lived some rough, lawless life in which
his hand had been against every man
and every man’s hand against him.
But little Robin saw nothing of this,
and stood watching him with a look of
pride and proprietorship. At length,
3
34 Robin's Recrurt.
by ,way of conversation, he remarked:
“My father says you're a_ rose-cul-
turer. It sounds like a nice business,
but being a soldier is even nicer. How
do you think you'll like being a
soldier?â€
Doogan growled an answer that was
quite unintelligible to Robin; but there
was no mistaking the meaning of his
scowl, and his tone implied that the
taste he had had of soldiering was any-
thing but satisfactory.
“Well, I Zope you'll like it,†Robin
said. “I’m so glad you are in our
company. It was funny, wasn’t it, but
I chose you right in the beginning ?â€
“Chose me,†repeated Doogan, for
the first time bestowing a look upon
his companion.
“Yes, I chose you out of all the
recruits,†said Robin, smiling.
Among the Rose-bushes. 35
“What for?’’ questioned Doogan.
“ Because,†answered Robin, —“ be.
cause I liked your looks.â€
“ Cos he liked my looks!â€
Doogan smiled a queer sort of a
smile, and then added, —
“ Well, there ain’t any accountin’ for
taste, but mind you, sonny, beauty is
only skin deep.â€
“Tt wasn’t so much that, but I
thought you were kind of good and
pleasant,†Robin explained. “ Big
fellows are usually kind. I suppose it’s
because they feel sorry for other people
that are so much weaker.â€
“IT never see a more discernin’ little
chap. You ought to go into the dertec-
tive business when you grow up. Bein’
able to judge so accurate of character,
you ’d jest make yer mark.â€
“Thank you,†said Robin, who be-
36 Robin's Recrutt.
lieved himself complimented, “ but I’m
going to be an army-officer, so I can’t
be a — er — what was it you said?â€
“ Dertective,†suggested Doogan.
“Well, the perfession has lost an orna-
ment, that’s all. An’ so you thought
I was good an’ pleasant, did you?â€
“Yes,†answered Robin, promptly, “I
did. I told my father about you. I
told him he had got one recruit, any-
how, that would n’t drink or do any
of the things that make so much
trouble.â€
“Sech a discernin’ little chap!†again
murmured Doogan. “ An’ what did yer
pa say?â€
“TI don’t remember what he said, but
he was awfully glad, of course. He
did n't know which you were, though.â€
Robin stopped in confusion, suddenly
realizing what his father had said about
Among the Rose-bushes. By
Doogan before knowing that he was the
recruit of his son’s choice; but Doogan
did not notice Robin’s confusion, and
went on, —
“Yes, I’m about as good an’ pleasant
a feller as he’s likely to find. The
trouble is, 1’m most too good. I don’t
want to do nothin’ all day but to read
tracks.â€
“Oh, but there is so much to be
done, you know,†said the boy, doubt-
fully. ‘“ There’s drilling and target
practice and — and ever so many things.
A soldier has to work pretty hard, I
think.â€
“Well, I ain't any objection to
workin’. I’m_ willin’, jest perfectly
willin’ to work —say a couple o’ hours
every other Wednesday.â€
“Oh, you re joking,†said Robin, with
an air of relief. “I like people that
38 . feobin’s Recruzt.
joke, but I really thought you were in
earnest about the tracks. How did you
come to enlist?â€
“Yer see I’d heard that soldiers was
a pretty rough lot, an’ I thought my
example might do em good. ’T was, as
you may say, from a sense of dooty.
There now,†— Doogan interrupted him-
self, — “ these roses oughter do well.â€
“The trouble most years is that they
bloom too early, and a norther comes
along and nips all the buds,†ex-
claimed Robin.
“TI hope they won’t be sech bloomin’
idiots this year,†said Doogan, chuck-
ling over his joke, as he drove the spade
into the hard earth and turned it over
with an ease that was much admired by
his companion. ~
“You ’re just awful strong, are n’t
you?†the boy said presently. “ I suppose
Among the Rose-bushes. 39
your legs don’t ever shake when you try
to run, and something that ’s queer inside
of you doesn’t flutter and make you
dizzy ?â€
“Well, no; them sensations you
speak of ain’t common with me,†an-
swered Doogan, still with that curious
little chuckle of his. But suddenly he
left off digging, and turning round,
looked thoughtfully at Robin, saying,
“T hope you ain't describin’ any feel-
in’s of your own.â€
And then he burst out crossly, “I’d
like to know what that grave-face doctor
that’s a-kickin’ his heels down at the
hospittal is about not to give you some-
thing to set you up.â€
“Oh, he has given me something;
and I’m not exactly sick, Doogan, only
sort of shaky. I wouldn’t think any-
thing of it, I suppose, only I used to be
40 Robin's Recruzt.
so strong. Why, I never thought of
my legs, and didn’t know I had that
queer thing that flutters. Sometimes
I think perhaps I deserve it because I
used to be such a bully.â€
“An how was you a bully?†asked
Doogan, with flattering interest.
“Oh, I was always fighting. I used
to stay at the barracks a good deal, and
whenever a boy came along, the men
would say, —
“* Hullo, here comes fohnny Green’
(or whoever the boy was). ‘ I say, Robin,
he can lick you;’ and then, you know,
I felt obf#ged to fight. To tell the truth,â€
Robin went on confidentially, “I did n’t
want to fight. I was afraid—just a
very little afraid —the other boy might
hurt me, and I didn’t care so particu-
larly about hurting him, though of
course if one of us ad to be hurt, I
Among the Rose-bushes. 41
did n’t want it tobe me. But I mean
to be a soldier, and I can’t be a coward ;
when I thought of that I’d always
pitch in.†-
“You seem to have given up the
occypation now,†‘observed Doogan.
“ How’s that?â€
“Why, you see, my father explained
to me that if a brave man fights, it’s for
some good cause, and not just for the
sake of fighting. It’s lucky for me
there are other ways of showing one’s
courage,†said Robin, rather soberly,
“for most any fellow could whip me
now. There ave other ways; don’t you
think so, Doogan? â€
“Lots of ’em,— jest heaps,†said
Doogan, consolingly. “I wish I could
give you some of my strength. I might
spare enough to set up a little chap like
you, an’ never be the wuss for it.â€
42 Robin's Recrutt.
But Robin protested against this.
“It would be a pity for you to lose any
_ of your strength,†he said. “I should n’t
want to take it. You are going to do
so much for the men, you know.â€
Doogan’s work among the rose-bushes
was finished, and he was gathering to-
gether his tools, but he looked from
under his heavy brow at Robin, and
said earnestly, —
“See here, little un; all I said to you
was jest stuff. ’T warn’t true,— not a
word of it. I’m a terrible ugly. fellow,
a bad lot, not fit to be gassin’ here with
an innercent little chap like you. An’
I'll take it kindly — for your own sake,
mind yer —if you'll jest keep clear 0’
me in the future.â€
CHAPTER III.
THE ACCIDENT.
OBIN looked admiringly after the
splendid figure of Doogan as he
strode away across the parade-ground.
What the recruit had said made little
impression upon him, for he disposed of
the whole question on the ground that
modesty is the sister of virtue.
“T’m sure he’s a good man, — this
Doogan,†he said to himself. “I’m
going to hunt up Sergeant Corrigan,
and see what he has to say about him.â€
Sergeant Corrigan and Robin were
old friends, the tie between them being
their devotion to Company B. Often
they had long, confidential talks on the
character of the men, about whom they
44 Robin's Recrutt.
sometimes quarrelled, the sergeant hold-
ing dark views, born of a hard experi-
ence, on this subject.
Corrigan had married Robin’s former
nurse, and the boy considered himself a
friend of the family, taking a godfatherly
SERGEANT CORRIGAN’S HousE IN Soapsups Row.
sort of interest in the young Corrigans.
The sergeant lived in one of the line of
houses called Soapsuds Row, the resi-
dences of the regimental laundresses.
Although he had been a long time in
the service, and, being of an unusually
frugal nature, was in very comforta-
ble circumstances, his wife sometimes
earned at the wash-tub extra comforts,
— such as window-shades for her parlor,
The Accident. 45
or shoes for her boys, these articles
being considered enervating luxuries by
her more economical husband; and that
morning when Robin came in search of
the sergeant, Mary’s cheerful Irish face
greeted him over a steaming tub of
soldiers’ shirts. The baby was asleep ;
but Master Robin Corrigan, our hero’s
namesake, was skipping up and down
the room in excitement, having, after
nobody knows how many days of
patient angling, caught a small fish in
the creek. His tender-hearted mother
was vainly imploring him to return the
little fish to its native element.
“Sure, if Ido I can’t catch him ag’in
whin I’m wantin’ him,’ answered Bob,
with youthful foresight. “I’d_ better
be killin’ him now, an’ whin I ate him
for me dinner, I ll be sure of him.â€
“That kind of fish is n’t good to eat,â€
said Robin.
46 feobin’'s Recrutt.
“An’ did ye iver ate one, thin?â€
asked Bob, shrewdly.
“ Kill him, thin,the aisiest way, darlin’,
How? Well, sure, they say drownin’
do be the aisiest death of all,†said his
mother, who was a wit in her way,
winking at Robin. “Go put him in the
crick, me swate bye.â€
But little Bob had already dropped
the fish in the tub of scalding suds, and
with indignant roughness, Mary turned
him out of doors. The skirmish woke
up the baby, who doubled the noise by
his cries. Mary took him up, and set-
tling him in his carriage, asked Robin
if he would not, for friendship’s sake,
take him out of doors.
Robin could have devised a more
agreeable employment for himself than
taking Baby Corrigan for an airing.
He privately regretted having placed
The Accident. 47
himself within Mary’s reach; but he
was an obliging boy, and did not like
to refuse.
Down the hill, just below Soapsuds
+ ~SN is,
By THE CREEK.
Row, winds the lovely little stream
called Las Moras. Its banks are covy-
ered with verdure, so that its course is
48 Robin's Recruzt.
like a fresh green ribbon along the dry,
arid chaparral, or bush country, that
surrounds Fort Carey. The live-oaks,
often fringed with moss, overhang the
creek, upon whose smooth green water
glisten the white geese.
The banks of the stream were a fa-
vorite play-ground
of the laundresses’
children; and
there Robin found
Bob Corrigan, who
had comforted
himself for the loss
of his fish by the
capture of one of
his mother’s finest
roosters. He
called to Robin to
come and help
him teach the
rooster to swim, so
Bos CORRIGAN.
The Accident. 49°
that. he could enjoy himself on the
creek with the geese.
This novel and apparently benevolent-
project attracted Robin, who at once.
guided the perambulator down the bank
to where his young friend stood.
“The water is n’t deep enough right
here,†he said at length, having watched
with much interest the first unsuccessful
attempts. “You see, he gets right to
the bottom and walks out. You have.
to go into deep water to learn to swim.â€
“He’d be afther drownin’, an’ we
could n’t git him thin,†objected Bob.
Robin dived down into those mines
of wealth, his trouser pockets, and
drew forth a piece of twine. This he
tied to one of the legs of the rooster,
and stepping out on a rock, threw the
poor, loudly protesting creature out into
the water.
50 Robin's Recruzt.
“The geese swim here, and so of
course: the rooster can,†he said confi-
dently; but after repeated trials the
rooster proved quite unteachable.
“Innyhow, the water plases him
better now,†said Bob, by way of en-
couragement. “He don't kick at it
inny more.â€
A strange and silent submission had
succeeded the frantic expostulations
with which the rooster had sought to
convince the boys of the hopelessness
of their project; and an uncomfortable
misgiving moved Robin to pull it
ashore. He untied the string and tried
to make it stand, but the poor fowl fell
flatly on its side with its legs stuck out
stiffly.
“T’m afraid we’ve hurt it,†he said
anxiously to Bob, who, after poking it
with his fat fingers, declared “ ’t was only
°
The Accident. 51
tired out, the pore thing was, with all
the fuss he ’d been makin’,†and that he
would “carry it away to the coop for
rest.â€
Robin watched him with lively
‘remorse.
“T wish I had n't done it,†he said to
himself, as he pushed the perambulator
up the bank. “I’m afraid I worried
the poor rooster to death, and it’s a
. cowardly thing to tease helpless crea-
tures. Horatio never would have done
it, neither would any of those brave old
Spartans. Abraham Lincoln always
protected the weak. I’m afraid that I
shall grow up to be like Nero.â€
In his repentance, Robin did the best
thing he could, which was to devote
himself to present duty,—the care of
Baby Corrigan.
The thought that fifty cents would
make the loss good to Mary was con-
52 feobin’s Recrutt.
soling, but he told himself sadly that
he never could make it up to the
rooster,
There was a foot-bridge that crossed
the creek as a means of communication
between the post and the town, and to
Robin’s joy he now saw Sergeant Corri-
gan hurrying over it. He stopped
the baby-carriage, and saluted respect-
fully, while the sergeant, having given a
paternal caress to his son, took off his
cap and wiped the perspiration from his
forehead.
“I have been looking for you, Ser-
geant,†said Robin.
“ Well, I’ve been over to town, and on
bad business, too. I have been looking
after Kelly, who was missing at inspec-
tion this morning, and just as I ex-
pected, found him dead drunk down at
the Merry Mule. That town plays the
mischief with our men. There was
The Accident. 53
o
Myers just ruined there, and Kelly’s
following suit as fast as he can. By.
the great horn spoon,†went on the
sergeant, who in moments of great ex-
citement permitted himself this unique
oath, “we never had a poorer lot of
men than at present, — take ’em by the
lot, boy. And the recruits —for I’ve
sized ’em up—aren’t goin’ to be any
improvement.â€
“ Well, I guess you have n’t sized up
Doogan,†interrupted Robin. “ He’s all
right.â€
“Now you’re wrong there, Robin.
Fle is a bad lot, Ze is. You can see it
in his eye, and you can see it in the
whole bad face of him.’ He’ll never be
any credit to B Company, I'll warrant
you.â€
“T don’t think it’s fair to give a man
a bad name before you know anything
54 Robin's Recrutt.
against him. When Doogan has turned
out to be a good, brave soldier, you will
want to take back the mean thing
you ve said now.â€
Robin’s eyes glittered. He was
afraid he was severe on his old friend,
but his pity for Doogan, condemned
before he had been given a trial, urged
him on. Corrigan, deep in his own
thoughts, had not even noticed Robin’s
wrath.
“T should n’t be surprised if he had
deserted from some other regiment,†he
went on calmly. “ He says he’s been a
rose-culturer. Sounds dreadful inno-
cent, doesn’t it? I reckon he’s done
something in his life beside tending
posies. I think he’s a desperate sort of
a character. And the captain, I see,
thinks so too, though he doesn’t say
much, as of course he should n’t, — it
The Accident. 55
being, perhaps, as you say, a little pre-
vious. Yes, Ze’s a bad lot. Why, just
to see the color that flies into his ugly
face when an order is given him.â€
“Ugly face! I think he’s hand-
some!†cried Robin. “Why, Ser-
geant,’ he went on, measuring his
friend with a critical eye, “I believe
he could lift you up with his little
finger.â€
“Perhaps he could,— perhaps he
could,†answered the sergeant, good-
humoredly. “When it comes to
strength, that’s another matter. Did
you hear how some of the men tried to
keep him from passing over the bridge
this morning? You know it’s not wide
enough for more than one to pass at a
time, and they were coming over from
Plunkett.
“ When he saw what they were up to,
56 Robin's Recruzt.
he stood stockstill in the middle of the
bridge, and yelled to them to come on.
Though they had been as bold as you
please before, when they saw him stand-
ing there with his fist doubled up and
those black eyes of his glaring at ’em,
they didn’t seem to hanker after the
job of handling him. However, they
could n't back out, and so the first one
stepped on. Well, Doogan picked him
up and tossed him like a wisp of straw
over the bridge into the crick, and the
next man he tossed over the o¢her side
of the bridge. As for the rest of those
men, why, bless you, they huddled to-
gether like a lot of sheep on the Plun-
kett side without offering to set foot on
the bridge until Doogan had crossed
over and was halfway to town.â€
“Why, it was like Horatio, wasn’t
it?†exclaimed Robin, excitedly. “I
think it was splendid.â€
The Accident.’ 57
“Horatio? An’ who may he be?â€
questioned the sergeant, looking puzzled.
“ Why don’t you remember the piece,
Sergeant?
“Then out spake brave Horatio,
The captain of the gate:
‘To every man upon this earth
Death cometh soon or late.
And how can man die better
Than facing fearful odds
For the ashes of his fathers
And the temples of his gods?’â€
“Yes, I remember now, — the chap
you are so fond of outer the Roman
History; but as I recollect the piece,
this Horatio was a-fighting for his
country. That’s the meaning of the
ashes and temples, which are just
figgers of speech. So you see it was n’t
a similar case. However, since you've
taken a liking to him, I won’t disparage
Doogan. Give him time, an’ he’s sure
to show himself out, whatever he is.
KS) Robin's Recruzt.
Now I’m goin’ right along home, and
I'll take this little snipe back to his
mother. You had better go home too,â€
added Corrigan, with a sharp look at
Robin. “It’s getting hot, and if I was
you I’d get out of this sun. There’s
dinner-call now.â€
MESS.
ia EL, —¢
—— es fe vie |
Soup-y, soup-y, soup-y, with-out a -ny
@. ice che es
pf fo ee
bean, Pork-y, pork-y, pork - y,
a se Ss
weet [ef yey
ee et [ = = a
with-out a-ny lean, Cof -fee, cof- fee,
pS Sa
cof - fee, with - out a -ny cream.
The Accident. 59
So Robin’ began to climb the hill
toward the parade-ground. Meanwhile
his thoughts were of Doogan, whom he
was enthroning in one of the high
places in his heart with the heroes he
worshipped. Some of these were taken
from history, or legendary poems that
his mother taught him, and some were
unknown men whose brave deeds were
none the less inspiring because history
has not commemorated them, and
which live only in admiring hearts of
comrades.
He aspired to be a strong man him-
self, and strength implied valor with
Robin; but for the present, he could
hardly drag one weary foot after the
other. The sun, beating down on the
white limestone soil, blinded him. His
head swam, and a sudden sickness made
him think of the rooster, with a vague
60 Robin's Recruzt.
wonder if, as he lay there so stiff and
motionless, he had felt like this. Robin .
had now reached the top of the hill
where the barracks are. Along this
line came the ambulance, — a clumsy
old vehicle drawn by sleek government
mules. They came at their fastest
speed, for the driver was in haste to get
to the corral.
The soldiers sitting on the barrack-
steps shouted warningly to Robin, who
stood quite still directly in its course.
In that instant before the foremost mule
struck him, they wondered at his sup-
posed foolhardiness, then rushed to him;
while Lieutenant Hall, who had wit-
nessed the accident from the doorway
of headquarters, and two other officers
who were crossing the parade-ground,
also ran up. The mules had been in-
stantly reined in; and Hooley, the
The Accident. 61
driver, white with alarm, sat bending
over the seat looking at Robin. Every
face wore an air of tender anxiety; for
Robin, with his love of fun, his sensi-
bility, his heart full of love, and his
passionate admiration for what is great
and brave, was dear to every soul in the
old garrison. But, thank Heaven, the
bright spirit they loved still shone out
of those dark eyes that looked with such
brave reassurance into theirs. No one
could tell, however, how great his
injuries might be. Some one immedi-
ately started in search of the doctor;
another to prepare Mrs. Clancy for the
child’s coming. Then a stretcher was
brought, but when they would have
lifted him upon it, Robin shook his
head, saying, —
“Where is Doogan? I want Doogan
to carry me.â€
62 Robin's Recrutt.
There was a stir of surprise among
the men, but they moved away; and the
recruit, having been told of Robin's
wish, pushed through the crowd, and
stooping down, lifted him gently in his
strong, steady arms.
CHAPTER IV.
AN IMPATIENT PATIENT.
HERE was great rejoicing at
Fort Carey when the doctor had
given his opinion on Robin’s case, for
no bones were broken, and although the
doctor had not been able to decide the
extent of Robin’s injuries, he did not
think that any serious trouble need be
anticipated. A sprained back, however,
would cause the patient some pain, and
make care needful. There must be
many weary weeks before he could ex-
pect to run about the post as before.
Robin bore the sentence with cour-
age. It was just at guard-mount, and
the strains of martial music from the
64 Robin's Recruzt.
band burst on Robin’s ear as an accom-
paniment to the painful words, and
made them easier to bear.
“It was just at guard-mount.â€
The doctor was a warm admirer of
Robin, and having sympathy with his
moods, knew how to help him. bear his
misfortune.
“There are other emergencies that
measure a man’s. courage just as well as
An Impatient Patient. 65
a battle-field,†he said; “and many a
soldier, if he spoke the truth, would say
that the hardest fight he ever made was
in the hospital. It takes a stronger spirit
to conquer oneself than any other
enemy, so you must brace up, Robin,
and make a hard fight for patience.â€
From the window Robin caught the
bright scene on the parade-ground,
where, headed by the bandsmen in their
gay uniforms, the men, with their bayo-
nets gleaming in the late sunlight, were
now marching before the adjutant. He
could see the fine, erect figure of his
father, who, as the new officer of the
day, was standing with Captain Ball, the
old officer of the day, at the other end
of the field. All there was life and
motion, —a boy’s paradise, in which
there seemed no call for the humdrum
virtue the doctor praised. Then the
5
66. Robin's Recrutt.
band clanged and clashed in a final
flourish that was like a burst of triumph,
as the new guards marched to their post
at the guard-house, and a small boy with
a sprained back and brave heart also
went on duty.
“T never cared very much about
being patient,†he said; “it doesn’t seem
one of the boss virtues at all, and only
good for women who sit in the house
and sew. Perhaps it will be a good
plan to go in for it now when I can’t do
anything better. So, Doctor, I’m going
to try to be patient, and not make a
fuss, no matter how long I have to stay
quiet.â€
..--But this mood could not be expected
to last; to poor Robin, as to us all, there
come moments of trial when no martial
music inspires us with courage, and no
kind-friend isat hand to point out the
An. Impatient Patient. - 67
better way. Robin was no saint, only a
warm-hearted, human boy, whose good
resolutions would not always stand
test. At such times he declared he
would not even try to be patient, —
turned his face from his mother, and
had only cross words for poor, faithful
Susannah.
““Phere;, boy, dont take.on.. So,â€
Susannah begged | of him one day.
“Let’s be thankful it’s no worse, as
‘t well might have been.â€
“Thankful! I won’t be thankful!â€
Robin burst out crossly. “I suppose
I’ve got to bear it, but I won't be thank-
ful. And it’s zever so bad, Susannah,
that it might n’t be worse. If you break
your arm, it might have been your leg;
and if it’s your leg, why, it might have
been your neck. Anyhow, to sprain
your back is bad enough for me; and
68 Robin's. Recrutt.
you needn't think I’m going to jump
for joy because I’ve done it.â€
Then he flung his book on the floor
as a sample of the behavior she might
expect from him; but the next moment
he threw his arms around her neck,
owning that he was cross and begging
her to forgive him.
The book Robin flung away in his
pet was about a boy who, like himself,
was sick and obliged to keep quiet, but
the resemblance between the two
stopped here; for that boy was never
known to complain through all the four
hundred pages that described his woes.
When any one spoke to him of them, he
always answered. “in a gentle voice,â€
and to the effect that he did not mind
suffering at all. Robin thought that
this taste was peculiar, to say the least,
for he himself objected very strongly
An Impatient Patent. 69
to suffering, which always made him
cross instead of gentle. The boy in the
book seemed, too, always to wear a wan
smile.
Robin asked Susannah what sort of a
smile that was, and if she had ever
noticed that he smiled in that way. He
wished to play the rodle of invalid with
equal propriety, and asking for a hand-
glass, made many experiments in smiles,
but he was never able to produce any-
thing better than what he himself called
“a cross grin.â€
All this time there were constant
callers at the Clancys’ quarters with
inquiries for Robin. Many of the ladies
brought delicacies to tempt his appetite.
Sometimes for a few moments the
children were allowed to see him; and
often his friend Arnold came in to tell
him the news of the post, or to read to
70 Robin's Recruit.
him. After the unpleasant scene with
Susannah just described, Rose Milby
brought in her zither, and with her
nimble white fingers chased away all
Robin’s pain and ill-humor. Then
came a call from Lieutenant Hall, who
entertained him with anecdotes of a
remarkable dog he had, and left with
him for company a little horned toad
that he had found, for these gentle
little creatures are often made pets of
by Texan children.
Finally, his father, having come in
very tired from a court-martial, instead
of going as usual to the club, sat down
for a chat with his son; and directly
after, Mrs. Clancy, who had left him for
the first time since his accident that
afternoon, returned also, and the three
enjoyed together the quiet hour of
fading daylight.
An Impatient Patent. 71
Lulled by the low voices of these
dearest friends, Robin lay half asleep.
He was fast losing all consciousness of
his pleasant surroundings when a sud-
den turn in the conversation thoroughly
aroused him.
“ T had trouble with one of the recruits
to-day,†Captain Clancy was saying;
“nothing to speak of if I were not so
sure that it’s a forétaste of what’s to
come. I had ordered the man to be on
the ground for target. practice at one
o'clock, and he wasn’t on time. So I
sent for the sergeant, who, after looking
for him, reported that he was not in the
garrison. Lieutenant Hall waited half
an hour for him; and when he finally
came he said that he had been told
there was a letter for him in the post-
office, and had gone to town to get it,
meaning to be back on time.
7D Robin's Recruzt.
“«TDo you realize the enormity of your
offence in disobeying orders?’ I asked
him.
“He looked ugly, but he answered
respectfully enough that he hadn't
intended to disobey orders.
«“<« How is that ?’ said I.
“«T supposed I could get back in
time, he answered.
“« Did n’t you go to the Merry Mule?’
said I.
“‘Ves†he admitted; he had been
there, but only for a moment, and he
came away saying that he must be back
to target practice.
“Well, said I,‘do you know that I
can put you in the guard-house for four
months?’
“ He scowled and looked as black as a
Texas thunder-cloud, but he kept quiet ;
and I finally told him that as this was
An Impatient Patient. 73
his first offence, if the lieutenant agreed
I should let him off.â€
“What was his name, father?†asked
Robin.
“ Well, to tell the truth, it was your
man Doogan.â€
Captain Clancy laughed as if he
thought this rather a good joke on
Robin.
“Tf ’t was that Doogan, Captain
Clancy, I wish you’d clapped him into
the guard-house without any hemming
and hawing,†broke out Susannah, who
was lighting the wood-fire that made
the room so pleasant every evening. “ If
ever a man had an evil eye, he has; and
I had my forbodin’s of trouble when I
first saw him out there in the yard
lookin’ at Robin.â€
“ That’s nonsense, Susannah,†laughed
the captain ; “ the man has done no harm
74 Robin's Recrutt.
to Robin; but have patience, and he’ll
get himself into the guard-house fast
enough, if that ’s what you want.â€
“Lor, I don’t mean to say anything
now, but just wait till I get ahold of
that fellow.â€
Susannah snapped her lips together
as if she were afraid that if the vials of
wrath she had ready to pour upon the
offender were uncorked they might
evaporate.
“Everybody is down upon poor Doo-
gan, even to Susannah, but I’m sure
he’s a fine fellow,†exclaimed Robin.
“ Why, father, he said he didn’t mean
to disobey orders, and why don’t you
believe him? I just wish I could do
something to show that I am his friend,
and believe in him. If you knew how
good he was to me when he carried me
home that day, you would feel just as
An Impatient Patient. 75
- Ido. Mother, won’t you say something
kind for him?â€
Mrsv Clancy thought with a shudder
of the mari’s hard, bold face and the
shock it had given her to see the flower-
like one of her pretty boy so near it.
“Never mind about the recruit, dar-
ling. You are getting excited, and that
isn’t good for you. Well, then,†she
went on in answer to the beseeching
eyes of Robin, “ perhaps he is n’t as bad
as we think. It is true he was kind to
you.â€
“ Not so bad as he looks, for instance,â€
chimed in Susannah. “ Well, I’m sure I
hope he isn’t, Robin, else there is no
knowing what he might be doing
to us.â€
CHAPTER V.
ON THE CHAPARRAL,
INEDRLY a month passed after Rob-
in’s accident before he was able to
be out in the open air again. One
beautiful March day, however, Captain
Clancy ordered the ambulance, and
Robin and his mother drove into the
town.
It was a poor little place, with streets
that straggled out into the chaparral,
which surrounded it on all sides. The
houses were of one story, with little
gardens in front, where peach-trees,
honey-suckle, and roses were blooming
at the same time, in a bewildering
fashion to Northern eyes. The Mexican
On the Chaparral. 77
quarter was made up of little huts called
jacals, with a few feet of land enclosed
as a dooryard that was never cultivated,
but sometimes kind Nature thrust up a
- Spanish bayonet-plant for a decoration,
its numerous spikes pricking the vivid
blue sky. Everywhere swarmed the
dark-eyed, bare-legged, smiling Mexican
children, who perhaps envied Robin his
seat in the coach as much as he envied
them their splendid health
Although the driver chose his way
as carefully as he could, the jarring of
the ambulance soon became painful to
Robin, who begged to go home again;
and much discouraged, Mrs. Clancy
ordered the driver to return to the gar-
rison. After this experience Robin
cared to take no more drives.
Meantime, the men of Company B
had constructed for his use a softly roll-
78 feobin’s Recrutzt.
ing carriage, or chair on wheels.. The
most difficult part of the work was done
by Doogan, who, it seemed, had all arts
but that of making friends.
“ Being wheeled about the post.â€
Robin was pleased, not only by this
graceful attention, but also with. the
vehicle itself, in which he passed many
comfortable hours being wheeled about
the post. The soldiers liked being
On the Chaparral. 79
detailed for this duty; but they knew
that Doogan was the favorite charioteer,
and it gradually fell entirely to him to
perform it.
By degrees Mrs. Clancy overcame
her fears at seeing her little son carried
away by this vicious-looking young
soldier; and left by themselves, an inti-
macy grew up between them, — an
intimacy as between two congenial.
beings. What grace there was in the
nature of Doogan, seen only by: this
child friend, puzzled the people of Fort
Carey.
One day when Robin was being
wheeled up and down in front of his
father’s house, the fancy seized him to
be taken out on the chaparral. The pur-
ple frijolio, falsely called laurel, was then
in blossom, and acres and acres of the
-blooms burdened the air with an almost
80 Robin's Recrutt.
oppressive sweetness. Such a ramble
would take him out of earshot of the
children, shouting in so merry a fashion
in their play as to pain Robin with the
sense of his own misfortune.
“ They always seem to be having an
extra good time when I come by,†said
‘the poor little. disabled one, as Doogan
turned off. toward the gate through
which they must pass to get out on
the chaparral. “I’m tired of being like
this; I know I promised to try to be
patient, and I mean to be, only I must
have a chance to rest and be cross now
and then.â€
“Suppose I carry you for a bit. It
would make a change anyhow,†said
Doogan; and noticing that Robin’s face
brightened. a little at the suggestion, he
came round to the side of the chair. and
stooped down over him. Robin put his
On the Chaparral. 8I
arms around his neck, and smiled as
he felt himself lifted to the height of
Doogan’s_ shoulder.
“You’re so good, Doogan, I ought n’t
to fret so,†said Robin; “ but if a fellow
is going to be sick, he ought to be
brought up to it, and not have it sprung
on him all at once.†His arm tight-
ened around Doogan’s neck, and he
went on in a half whisper, “I never
thought I’d be like this. I always
thought sick people were so tiresome.
There was poor Huckins. You never
saw him, ’cause he died before you came,
but he was out in Dakota, and he used
to cough dreadfully, and it always made
me feel cross. It seemed as if he did it
on purpose, you know. When we were
ordered to Texas he thought he should
get over it, but he died just a little while
after he got here. I was sorry then
6
82 Robin's Recrutt.
that I had n’t been kinder to him, but
it’s no good to be sorry unless you are
sorry at the right time.â€
“ T would n’t think on such oncheerful
subjicts,†advised Doogan; and glancing
at the sweet face, showing so white upon
the dark blue of his blouse, he added,
“Tf I only could give you a part of my
strength, Captain Robin, you’d see how
quick I'd do it.â€
“Why, you ave giving it tome. Aren't
your legs carrying both of us? I feel
almost as if they were partly mine, you
let me have ’em so often. Good legs,â€
said Robin, with a glance downward that
Susannah would certainly have called
sentimental. “ The first time I ever saw
°em — when I picked ’em out among a
lot of crooked, knock-kneed, slouchy ones
—I didn’t think they would ever carry
me about on this chaparral. You know
On the Chaparral. 83
I fell in love with you, Doogan, at first
sight.â€
“Some might say you was easily
pleased,†said Doogan, grinning. “ But
now tell me, Captain Robin, if there ain’t
some other way you might make use 0’
my strength. What do you want to do-
that you ain’t strong enough for?â€
“ Let mesee,†said Robin, reflectively ;
“well, you know the lone-stars are out
now, —the parade-ground is just covered
with them,—and I would like to gather
a bunch of them every morning for
Susannah, as I did last year. Nobody
ever sends Susannah flowers.â€
“ Lord, I should n’t think they would!â€
ejaculated Doogan, who admired Susan-
nah no more thansheadmired him. “I'd
as soon think of sendin’ flowers to a gov-
ernment mule. However, if ’t will please
you, Captain Robin, I'll pick them stars
84 Robin's Recruzt.
as willin’for her as a feller would for his
sweetheart. An’ now what else is there?â€
Robin laughed rather roguishly, and
then said, —
“T was thinking yesterday that if I
"was only well again, I’d sometimes on
washing-days take 1 yey Comeee s baby
out in its carriage.â€
Doogan looked blank at this, and
said, “ Well, I should smile! Ain’t Ser-
geant Corrigan the strength to trot round |
his own kids?â€
“Ves, but I should like to do it for
Mary. I remember that time she asked
me I didn’t exactly —â€
« Hanker after the job,†put in Doogan.
“That’sit. Ididn’t exactly hanker
after the job,†repeated Robin. “I
remember I thought that babies were a
great nuisance; but of course if there
are n’t any babies, there won’t be any
On the Chaparral. 85
boys and men; and then, we all had to
be taken care of ourselves once — even
you, Doogan. When I wasa baby, Mary
Corrigan must have taken me out no
end of times, and so I’d like to—â€
“ Return the favor, as ’t were,’ Doo-
gan suggested. “ Well, I see how 't is.
But that baby o’ Corrigan’s is a terror.
I saw it yesterday, an’ it was flappin’ its
mouth together like a horn-pout. It
makes me sick to look at it. However,
you ‘ve but to say the word, an’ I’ll be
like a lovin’ mother to it.â€
“ Doogan, what a good old fellow you
are!†Robin burst out. “But I was
in fun. It was just a test. Don’t you
know in the fairy-stories how the prince
has to be willing to do all sorts of hard
things as a test of his love for the prin-
cess? I would n’t really have you do it
for anything, the men would laugh so.
86 Robin's Recrutt.
I’m not going to have the men laugh
at you.†:
“Laugh at me/ They aren’t so howl-
ing anxious for a quarrel,†said Doogan,
grimly; and, in truth, there were few
among the soldiers that cared to measure
their strength with this young giant.
«“An’ what else are you wantin’
strength for? Now no more o’ them
tests.â€
“Well, there’s poor Huckins, you
know.â€
« Huckins ! well, he’s dead an’ buried,â€
Doogan answered cheerfully.
“Ves; he’s buried over there in the
soldiers’ cemetery with stones over his
grave, and only a rickety wooden cross
to show where he lies. He was a good
brave soldier, Doogan, and sometimes I
would like to go up there, and put some ©
flowers around, to show that he wasn’t
forgotten.â€
On the Chaparral. 37
« Well, now, that sort of work is jest-
in my line, bein’ in the sentimental busi-
ness at present.†Doogan laughed with
that low, good-humored chuckle of his
that no one but Robin ever heard. “I
will go up there to-morrow, an’ sprinkle
about a few o’ them lone-stars I shall
gather for my sweetheart, — the beaute-
ous Susannah.â€
“ Oh, but you mustn't! You must n’t
call her that,†interrupted Robin, looking
over Doogan’s shoulder as if he expected
to see the wrathful face of Susannah
behind them.
“T’ll sprinkle ’em on one of the graves
up there, and it’s as likely to be Huck-
inses as anybody’s.†Doogan went on:
“Or if you would like, Captain Robin,
I'll take you up there yourself, an’ you
can point out the right one to me, though
I’m not ‘in favor of your bein’ in
88 Robin's Recrutt.
them lonely spots. But anyhow, now
it’s time I was a-takin’ you home, or the
folks there’ll be a-makin’ up their minds
that I’m a-murderin’ you.â€
The following morning, as Robin was
lying on the sofa in the parlor, Susannah
brought in a huge bunch of lone-stars,
which, in high dudgeon, she flung into
his lap.
“Your beautiful Doogan has just
brought ’em,†she said; “the imperdent
thing came here, grinning like a chessy
cat, and said they was for me.â€
“They are for you, but they are n’t
exactly from Doogan. You see, Susan-
nah, Doogan feels sorry for me because
I’m not strong enough to do anything,
and he says I shall have part of his
strength. I’m to call it mine, he says,
and use it just as I want to, and I told
him I guessed I'd use a little to get these
lone-stars for you.â€
On the Chaparral. 89
Robin held out the flowers entreat.
ingly, but Susannah would not look at
them, and answered sharply, —
“Tain’t going to have any man sprawl. -
ing round on the parade-ground, picking
flowers for me. I’ve had plenty to hum-
ble my pride in my time, but I ain’t sunk
so low yet as that.â€
“T don’t want you tosink low. Ifyou
feel so, I’ll tell Doogan not to bring any
more,†said Robin. “I’ve always got
them for you, though, ever since we nye
been at Fort Carey, and I thought
you 'd miss them this year.â€
“ And so I would, Robin,†cried Susan-
nah, dropping her easterly tone, and
suddenly veering round into a warm,
comfortable quarter; “lone-stars is lone-
stars, whoever picks ’em, and I'll put
these now in water, with many thanks
’
to you.’
Robin's Recrutt.
“J ain't going to have any man sprawling on the parade-
ground, picking flowers for me.â€
On the Chaparral. ont
As long as the lone-stars bloomed, a
bunch came regularly each morning for.
Susannah, who greeted their sweet, pure
faces with a wry one of her own, no doubt,
but, for love of Robin, meekly accepted
them.
A norther that had sprung up in the
night prevented Robin from going out
the next morning, and after that a bad
cold confined him for several days to the
house, so that a long time passed before
he again saw Doogan.
CHAPTER VI.
A SAD BIRTHDAY.
i was directly after breakfast, and
Robin had been comfortably settled
on his sofa, while his mother, with her
pretty fancy-work in hand, sat devotedly
near, ready to be as amusing as she
knew how.
To furnish entertainment for such
long periods is a good deal of a tax
on one’s ingenuity, and Mrs. Clancy
was thankful for a sudden interest on
Robin’s part in her own work. She
even submitted to his rather rough
handling of her delicate materials, while
he investigated the process of making
a handkerchief-case.
A Sad Birthday. 93
“ Who is it for, anyhow?†he asked at
length, sniffing vigorously at the helio-
trope powder that was to scent the sides
of the case. “I never had one of these,
and I think it’s because I never had
such a good place to keep ’em in that I
lose so many of my handkerchiefs.â€
“You shall have one, if you would like
it,†said Mrs. Clancy. There were few
things this tender little mother would
refuse her poor boy at that time. “ But
this one is for Lieutenant Hall. He is
to have a birthday next week, and it’s
pleasant, you know, to have your friends
remember you on that day.â€
Robin assented to this. He was think-
ing that when once he had given Doogan
a photograph of himself he had remarked
that no one before had ever made him a
present. Robin did not consider a pho-
tograph a present at all.
94 Robin's Recruzt.
“ Mother,†he said, “it’s going to be
Doogan’s birthday next week too, and I
want to make Azm a present.â€
Mrs. Clancy gave instant consent to
this plan, looking upon the gift as an
acknowledgment of the kindness Doo-
gan had shown him.
“ Oh, I don’t wish to do it for that!â€
Robin protested; “ we're friends, you
know. But it’s just as you said when
you were speaking of Lieutenant Hall,
pleasant to have your friends remember
you. I want to give him something nice,
though.â€
“Have you thought of anything in
‘particular? It’s rather hard to select
a present for Doogan.â€
“ No, I don’t think it isatall. Ishould
give him just what I’d give anybody —
any other friend.â€
“T would give him the money, Robin,
A Sad Birthday. 95
and let him select something to please
himself,†his mother advised; but Robin
shook his head decidedly, and asked, —
“Why did n’t you give the money to
Lieutenant Hall, and let him select 4zs
present?†.
Mrs. Clancy laughed at this, and the
captain threw in the suggestion that
Robin should buy a bag of tobacco, as a
gift Doogan would be likely to appreciate.
“1 think he might like a pipe, perhaps,â€
said his mother. “ Would you like to
give him that, Robin?â€
But this proposal, with its patronizing
assumption of Doogan’s want of taste
for the niceties of life, much displeased
Robin, who waved it away in silent scorn,
and sat looking so significantly at the
handkerchief-case that it was an easy
matter for his mother to read his thought.
“Do you think it would make a suit-
96 Robin's Recruzt.
able present for him?†she said merrily,
holding up her dainty work, while his
father roared, and Robin, too, joined in
the laugh.
He laughed, however, merely because
the others laughed, and not at all because
he appreciated the joke. He thought
the handkerchief-case none too fine for
his friend, and his mind was not to be
shaken by sarcasm.
“You promised me one, mother,†he
said earnestly, “and I shall take it for
Doogan. I mean to pay for all the
things, though, myself, with the dollar
father gave me for not making a row
when the doctor examined my back. I
shall have it made of white satin, with
rosebuds embroidered on it like this one,
white lace round the edge, and pink bows
in the corners, and plenty of the smelly
stuff inside.â€
A Sad Birthday. 97
They laughed again, and the captain
said there ought to be a Shakspearian
quotation somewhere, as Doogan was,
no doubt, a lover of poetry; to which
jest Robin replied stanchly that Doogan
liked poetry as well as anybody.
Perseverance met with its just reward,
and the day before Doogan’s birthday,
such a handkerchief-case as Robin had
described was wrapped up by him, with
a card inside bearing his name and good
wishes. It was a delicate, dainty thing,
“jest fit to give to a bride,†as Susannah
said, with a disapproving sniff. Even
Susannah had contributed to the celebra-
tion of Doogan’s birthday, having been
wheedled into making for him a birthday
cake.
“I’ve no doubt he ’ll know what to do
with this,†she said, as she brought the
cake in on a plate for Robin’s pleased
7
98 Robin's Recrutt.
inspection ; “ but as for the dvzdal offerin’,
he’s as likely as not to keep his baccy
in it. I guess the men’ll laugh some
when they see him with that flimflam
thing.â€
“Well, it will be behind Doogan’s
back, then,†answered Robin, to whom
this view of the subject was new; “ and,
anyhow, Doogan won't care. He isn't
afraid of the men, and he’ll be pleased
to have his birthday remembered.â€
The following morning was fair, with
a soft breeze blowing from the chaparral,
and it was decided that Robin might
venture out of doors again. He knew
Doogan would come to wheel his chair,
and this would afford a fine opportunity
of presenting the case and the cake.
In anticipation of this pleasure, he
ate his breakfast -in high spirits. Be-
fore he had left the table, Sergeant
A Sad Birthday. 99
Corrigan came in to make his customary
morning report to the captain, who was
writing at his desk in the corner of the
dining-room.
As he stood, cap in hand, before Cap-
tain Clancy, he glanced uneasily at Robin,
who was smiling at him, in that warm,
sunny fashion of his; then he dropped
his eyes, and said in a low voice, —
“T confined Private Doogan, sir, last
night, by order of the lieutenant.â€
“Confined whom?†asked the cap-
tain; “speak a little louder, Sergeant.â€
“ Private Doogan, sir.â€
“* What for?â€
“For drunkenness and _ disorderly
conduct.â€
At this point, poor Corrigan cast
another glance at Robin, who had |
dropped his fork, and was staring at
him with wide-open eyes.
100 Robin's Recrutt.
“] heard a noise down by the guard-
house, about eleven o’ clock. Was that
the time?â€
“Yes, sir. He fought like a tiger.
The officer of the day, hearing the noise,
came up, and we had quite a tussle to
get him into the guard-house. Before
that, he had been trying to get through
the gate down by the Plunkett road,
bein’ too drunk to know rightly what he
was about; and in my opinion, sir, he
has been fixing for some time to desert.
I know he hates it out here like poison,
and he has been heard to say that no
one but a fool would be bamboozled
about like an enlisted man.â€
When the sergeant, having finished
his report, had saluted and departed,
Captain Clancy threw down his pen,
saying to Robin, — ;
4“ Well, boy, your recruit is a bad lot,
after all, isn’t he?â€
A Sad Birthday. IOI
Then turning, so as to get a glimpse
of Robin’s face, he got up, and leaning
over him, said gently, —
â„¢
1 a
S
“ He had laid his head on his arms, trying to hide his
mortification.â€
“Why, Robin, boy, do you feel so
badly as all this?â€
For he had laid his head on his arms,
102 Robin's Recrutt.
trying to hide his mortification and
sorrow. .
The bright morning sunshine was
darkened for him with the thought of
Doogan’s twentieth birthday passed in
the grim old guard-house. Beside the
pity he felt for his friend was a deep
sense of chagrin that his chosen recruit
should prove guilty of such offences.
His hero was disgraced, drunken, and
thrown down from that pedestal upon
which he had so greatly admired him.
The “ bridal offering†seemed to mock
at his disappointment, and he felt like
hiding at home all day, rather than hear
the jokes that would be made upon his
own misplaced confidence.
But Robin was too hopeful a little soul
to persist long in this dark mood. Doo-
gan had fallen, but he was too good —
Robin was sure he was too good — not
to stagger to his poor feet again; and the
A Sad Birthday. 103
part of his best friend was to be hopeful
of the future. .
As to that insinuation of Sergeant Cor-
rigan that the recruit had meant to desert,
he did not believe a word of it.
It was on the following day that Robin,
being wheeled around the post by Hooley, —
who had been detailed for this duty in
Doogan’s place, came upon the poor boy
with some of the other prisoners at work
on the road. To see him thus, guarded
by a sentinel with a bayonet over his
shoulder, as the custom is, was enough
to make one’s best friend wince; but
thinking life was dark enough for the poor
fellow just then, without black looks,
Robin forced as cheerful a smile as he
could; and how was Doogan to know that
tears would have come easier? Robin
thought if he could only stop and say
something pleasant to him, he himself
104 Robin's Recruzt.
would feel happier; but that, of course,
would not be permitted, and he went
home in a sad mood that ended in tears,
“Was enough to make one’s best friend wince.â€
and he passed a feverish night in
consequence.
Dr. Bemis grumbled bitterly over this
A Sad Birthday. 105
state of affairs, when he came in the next
morning to see Robin, and he wondered,
as every one did, why he should be so
fond of this unpromising young soldier.
Robin finally unburdened his heart in
a long letter, which he found means of
sending to Doogan.
My DEAR DOooGAN (he wrote),— I must
write to tell you how much I miss you, and
how I think of you all the time. Each morn-
ing, when the gun is fired, I blow a kiss to
you. I suppose this is sentimental, for Su-
sannah says so; but I don’t think it’s wicked
to be sentimental, though I think Susannah
does.
I don’t feel quite as well as I did. I shall
feel better, I think, when I see you again.
Hooley takes me out every day, but he isn’t
strong enough to carry me.
How are our legs ?
What I started to tell you was that I don’t
believe that you meant to desert that time you
were trying to get through the gate. I shall
106 Robin's Recruit.
always stick to you. I hope you will stick to
me, but, anyhow, I shall always stick to you.
I know you would never desert, but I’d like to
hear you say so, and if, the next time I see you,
you'll just cough, I’ll take it as a promise,
and shall feel better.
Many fine books have been written in prison.
Why don’t you write one? But perhaps you
have.
Your faithful friend,
ROBIN.
Waking from his heavy sleep on the
morning of his twentieth birthday, and
finding himself in the guard-house, Doo-
gan recalled the train of events that had
brought him there, and desperate
thoughts filled his mind. Although it
is true that a soldier’s life, with its neces-
sary restraint, was most distasteful to
him, he had never intended to desert.
Through all his life, it had been the
poor boy’s fate to be suspected of wrong-
A Sad Birthday. 107
doing in advance of the intent, and it
had generally ended in his justifying
expectation.
Alone in his cell in the guard-house,
one night, the silence broken only by
the tread of the sentinel pacing back and
forth outside, he made up his mind that
as soon as the opportunity showed itself,
he would be guilty of the very act of
which he had been suspected. His hot
young blood boiled with resentment and
anger against those who had power to
confine him here, “like arat in a trap,â€
as he angrily told himself. With bitter-
ness he remembered the hostility the men
had always shown him, and he felt that
he would be glad never again to lay eyes
on one human being he had known at
Fort Carey.
But every time he said this to himself,
‘a gentle child-face seemed to emerge
108 Robin's Recrutt.
from the gray shadows of the place, and
break into that slow, warm, magnetic
smile that he knew so well, until young
Doogan would turn impatiently away,
with his hand over his eyes, trying to
shut out that little face, and stifle the
memory of the child that loved him.
It was when this determination to
escape from Fort Carey was strongest
that Robin’s note reached him. Doogan
read it slowly and with difficulty, but
words of kindness and affection did not
reach him so often that he could afford
to miss any of them.
“Lord! he’s a queer little chap,†he
said, smiling to himself, as he folded the
letter up. “’T would go hard with him
if I was to take Scotch leave o’ Company
B, an’ I believe Ill hang on a bit longer
for the sake of him.â€
But, deep down in his heart, Doogan
A Sad Birthday. 109
knew that he should disappoint that
loving trust in the end.
It so happened that, the very next day,
while he was at work, Robin, wheeled
by Hooley and attended by a cavalcade
of children, came by.
As Robin saw his friend, two red spots
flew into his cheeks.
“Go slow,†he said to Hooley, and
Hooley obeyed. As they passed in
front of the poor lad, it seemed to him
that they came toa fullstop. He caught
his breath with a gasp, as for a moment
his glance fell upon Robin’s raised face ;
it looked so much smaller and whiter
_ than he rememberedit. The great brown
eyes were full of entreaty, and seemed to
say, —
“Stick by me, Doogan! Promise
never to desert.â€
Then he dropped his head, and went
110 Robin's Recrutt.
busily on with his work, while Hooley
quickened his pace, saying, —°
“Sure, that’s a terrible cough Doo-
gan’s got on him. The air of the
guard-house don’t agree with his deli-
cate constitution.â€.
CHAPTER VII.
DOOGAN’S STORY.
N Doogan’s release from the guard-
house, a week later, he found there
had been no improvement in Robin’s
condition, and he seemed very feeble
and worn.
The summer heat was now coming on,
—the dry, breathless heat of southern
Texas,—and the doctor declared that
Robin would not be able to bear the
summer at Fort Carey.
Captain Clancy had sent in an appli-
cation for a leave of absence; and in case
of a refusal it had been decided that he
should take his meals at the bachelors’
mess, and that Mrs. Clancy and Susan-
112 Robin's Recruzt.
nah should take Robin north; but Robin
himself had heard nothing of these
plans. .
In his quiet life, unable to join in the
pleasures of the other children, his chief
interest seemed to be in his recruit.
Nothing pleased him so much as a good
report of Doogan. When Doogan dis-
tinguished himself at target-practice, by
his fine shooting sending B Company’s
average higher than it had ever been
on any year he could remember, Robin
had swelled with pride. A hint that
Doogan was drinking again, or in any
disgrace, sent his spirits down to zero, so
that care was taken that when the ser-
geant made his daily report to Captain
Clancy, Robin should never be present.
Nearly every day, either in the early
morning or late in the afternoon, Doogan
and Robin enjoyed each other’s company,
Doogan’s Story. 113
and the figure of the soldier striding
about the garrison with the boy in his
arms, his curly head resting on the big
fellow’s shoulder, became a familiar sight.
One afternoon, when they were sitting
by the disused blacksmith’s shop, on the
edge of the post, Robin learned his
friend’s early history.
On the previous evening, Robin had
heard shouts of laughter at B Company’s
barracks, and now asked Doogan the
cause of it.
“ The men were a-givin’ their previous
histories,†answered Doogan, laughing a
little, as if the recollection was amusing.
“wish I could have been there,†said
Robin.
“?T warn’t worth hearin’; an’ them
barracks ain’t a good place, anyway, for
a little chap like you,†replied Doogan.
“ T’ve had lots of good times, anyhow,
8
114 Robin's Recruzt.
“ Sitting by the disused blacksmith’s shop.â€
Doogan’s Story. 115
down at the barracks. The men were
always good to me, Doogan.â€
“Lord! I should think so. Why
should n’t they be?†said Doogan, taking
the boy’s wrist, and gently slapping the
soft hand upon his own great paw.
“Well, if I only could remember what
those fools said, I’d try and tell yer.â€
“You can remember what yow said.
I wish you’d tell me your history,
Doogan.â€
“Oh, they was only a-foolin’. They
was all yarns.â€
“IT should want you to tell me honest
and true, of course. Won’t you tell it
to me, Doogan?â€
“It ain’t worth tellin’, Captain Robin,
an’ ’t would n’t be fit fer yer to hear, an’
I don’t want to deceive yer,†was the
answer.
Robin turned wearily in Doogan’s
arms, and sighed.
116 - Robin's Recrutt.
“It does n’t seem as if I could ever
have anything I want nowadays. Dear
Doogan,†he urged, with the persistence
of sickness, “ please tell me the story.â€
A hot color spread suddenly over the
young soldier’s face, as for a moment he
looked into Robin’s pleading eyes. Then
he said slowly, —
“Well, I’m goin’ to tell yer honest
an’ true, as yer say, what I’ve never
told to any one. There never was any
one before ’t would believe me, but [
know you will. ’T won't be a pretty
story, though. There ain’t any fairy god-
mothers in it, an’ no Sunday-schools, an’
nothin’ instructive, but I reckon ’t won't
do yer no harm. But first yer must
promise yer ain’t never goin’ to tell it to
anybody.â€
“Yes; I promise you that, Doogan. I
want you to begin at the time when you
were no bigger than I am.â€
Doogan’s Story. TEI
“When I was a little feller like you, I
worked fer a man who had a big farm in
New England,†began Doogan.
“ Why did n't you live with your father
and mother?†asked Robin.
“ Well, fer a pretty good reason, — they
was both dead and buried; and though
’t would have been better fer me, perhaps,
to have gone along with ‘em, ’t warn’t so
arranged. My father left nothin’ fer me
but a bad name, an’ my mother warn’t a
leader of society, by no means; an’ when
she died too, there warn’t no rich rela-
tions to come forads to take care of me,
an’so I fell on the town. That ain’t the
best sort of luck fer a baby, Captain
Robin. Yer see I didn’t have a very
genteel send-off, an’ I’ve never been
genteel since. The town wasn’t any
more fond o’ me ’n I was of the town; an’
jest as soon as it could, it got rid o’ me,
118 Robin's Recruit.
and bound me over (I was jest about
your age then) to the man I started in
by tellin’ yer about. I wasn’t an angel
of virtue, I reckon, an’ the town authori-
ties thought mebbe they could n’t be too
perticuler as to the sort o’ man they was
toshipmeonto. At any rate, old Monks
— that was the feller’s name— was the
hardest cove I ever come across, an’ I
ain't been accustomed to the society o’
the pillers o’ the church, by no means.â€
A fierce look gleamed in Doogan’s .
black eyes, and he breathed hard ; but in
a moment he took up Robin’s little hand
again, and went on calmly,—
«Well, yer could n’t expect him to be
a fond parient to me, when he had
nearly killed his own son by hard work.
J never wondered that the feller had run
away, an’ used to think (that is, when I
grew bigger, for I ’m way back now when
Doogan's Story. 119
I was fust with him, —a lazy, wild little
cub, no older ’n you are) I would run
away too. He was bound to get every
cent out of me that my livin’ cost him,
an’ he managed to do it; fer there was
always the horsewhip, if I stopped work-
in’, to lash me along on the path o’ dooty.
Many a time he thrashed me till his
poor, scared little wife would cry, an’ beg
an’ beg him to stop. As for cryin’,
though, that was the pleasure of her life,
an’ all the one she ever got. She took
solid comfort that way,an’ she ’d set an’
cry, an’ set an’ cry, an’ set an’ cry, cry, cry.
She said the sight of me a-workin’ out in
the fields along with 42m reminded her of
her boy, an’ ’t was that what made her cry.
“Well, I worked hard enough, I can
tell yer, Captain Robin, an’ all the reward
I ever got was cuffs an’ kicks. Often
an’ often, at night, I'd crawl up into the
120 Robin's Recrutt.
loft where I slept, and cry with rage that
I was n’t strong enough to turn round
an’ thrash old Monks as he deserved, —
fer there was wild blood in me that turned
hot at a blow.â€
“Poor little Doogan!†murmured
Robin, pressing his soft cheek lovingly
against the rough face of the recruit, who
laughed in answer, though he drew the
child closer to him, as he went on, —
“Of course I hated him. I remem-
ber now how, when I was a-choppin’
wood, fer instance, I’d fancy ‘t was him
I was a-hackin’ an’ hewin’ up, an’ took a
pleasure init. It wasn’t jest the way
of developin’ the moral sentiments in a
boy, an’ I didn’t grow kind an’ lovin’.
As I grew older, I got sorter reckless.
I b'lieve, when the fit was on me, I would
have spoken my mind to him if I had .
known Monks would kill me the next
Doogan’s Story. 121
minute. Once his wife begged me to
keep my tongue quiet, sayin’ she was
afraid sometime he might kill me. I
never have forgotten the poor little thing,
an’ I never will,†said Doogan, shaking
his head. “She would have been kind
to me if she ’d dared. If ever I got a
chance to do her a good turn, I always
meant to do.it. Well, at last the chance
come, though ’t wasn’t anything like
what I was lookin’ fer.
“ Yer see, she ’d never forgot her boy,
though she did n’t know any more than
I did what had become of him. But
one day, unbeknownst to Monks, she got
a letter from him, an’ he was in trouble,
an’ wanted money. That’s the way it
is with them runaway chaps; they are
never heard from, unless they ’re wantin’
money. Poor Mis’ Monks hadn't a
cent, an’ she did n't dare ask Monks fer
122 Robin's Recrutt.
money. Why, I ve seen the poor thing
tremble when she heard him a-comin’,
an’ she used to slap the dinner on the
table, an’ cut for the barn, while he eat
it; so yer see she did n't confide none
of her troubles to Az. She was most
frantic. She’d walk up an’ down the
floor, with her hands to her head an’
her eyes rovin’ all over the room, as if
’t was the custom in that house to have
piles o’ money layin’ round anywhere,
convenient fer folks that wanted it to
pick up. Well, so it went on.
“I was about fifteen year old by that
time, an’ strong as a young lion.
“At last Monks lost twenty-five dol-
lars, which he said had been stolen out
of his trousers’ pocket. He _ insisted
that I was the thief, and tried all
his winnin’ ways to make me own
that I had taken it, and give him
Doogan's Story. 123
his money again. I was black an’ blue
with his compliments. At last the beast
in me broke loose, an’ I turned on him
jest as I’d always longed to do, an’ paid
back. There warn’t nothin’ mean about
me, an’ after I’d thrashed him fer myself,
I laid on again fer poor Mis’ Monks, an’
then fer the boy he ’d driven away from
her. I was that hot ‘twas a mercy I
had n’t killed him, but a man passin’ by,
hearin’ his screams, come to his rescue.
(It was one of those men that had given
me into old Monks’ hands in the begin-
ning.) Together they managed to tie
me up, an’ the upshot of the business
was, I was taken tothe reform school.
Captain Robin, J knew who took that
money. L saw her do zt.â€
“Qh,†said Robin, swallowing his
tears, and looking up brightly, “then
they let you off.â€
124 Robin's Recruzt.
“Well,†said Doogan, “’t was this
way. Yer never see sech a frightened,
miser’ble-lookin’ human critter as Mis’
Monks ever since the old man first found
out that his money had been took. She
kept a-follerin’ me about with them sick,
scared eyes of hers, an’ I remembered
she ’d’a’ been kind to me if she dared,
an’ I couldn't go back on her. I jest
declared to everybody that I hadn't
stole the money, an’ that’s all I would
say. But folks wouldn't listen, or if
they did, they wouldn't believe me.
They said I’d always been a bad sort of
a boy, an’ my pa had been a bad man, ~
an’ the school o’ reform would be the
safest place fer me. The school o’
reform!†repeated Doogan, bitterly. “A
fine way to reform a young feller, by
givin’ him a bad name that’ll stick all
his life, an’ prevent his followin’ any
Doogan's Story. 125
respectable livin’ in the place where he’s
born, an’ that forces him to live a wild
life in wild places. Poor Mis’ Monks,
she died that same year, an’ a great
streak of luck fer her. As fer zm, I
don’t know what become of him, but I
know he was the ruination of me. When
I went to that school o’ reform, I turned
my back on any chance fer a good sort
of a life. P’raps I would n’t have had
one, anyhow. Folks always mistrust
me. ‘He’s got a bad face. I must
look out fer him,’ they ’d say; an’ that
sort of a manner toward a man don’t
sort of egg him on to doin’ his best. No,
I ain’t had a chance, an’ there’s only
one way fer me.â€
Doogan had forgotten Robin. His
eyes were looking absently into the dis-
tance, where the sun, like a crimson disk,
seemed slipping into the gray, lonely
126 Robin's Recrutt.
chaparral. His face grew hard. That.
spirit of unconquerable loyalty that had
shone in his eyes, as he spoke of the
poor woman whom he would not betray,
had faded into fierce gloom ; and his
thoughts were of a future even darker, —
perhaps, than that sad, unfortunate past
over which Robin was silently grieving.
“It’s queer,’ he went on presently,
“how ‘twas on my birthday — I was
jest fifteen then — when I got into the
reform school, an’ my birthday again
when I got into the guard-house down
here. But’twas the fust time that paved
the way fer the other,—-’t was the first
time that paved the way fer all the badness
that followed; that, an’ the face of me
that folks can’t bear, an’ has scared away
all decent company. I never had a
friend except poor Mis’ Monks an’—
Why, Captain Robin, little chap, don’t
yer cry so!â€
Doogan’s Story. 127
He held the child higher in his arms,
till his face touched his own, and both
were wet with tears,
“Don’t cry so, dear little kid!†he
begged. “It ain’t good fer yer; ’t will
hurt yer. Plague take me that I ever
began chinnin’ in this low-sperited way !
Cheer up, Captain Robin, fer we’re all
right now, here on this purty-lookin’
chaparral.â€
He was frightened, for Robin was
crying hysterically, although he struggled
to control himself.
“ Who'd ’a’ thought he’d have taken
it to‘heart so, the poor, lovin’ little chap !â€
he said to himself. Those tears, which,
as far as he knew, were the first ever
shed for him, touched him deeply, and
with gentle, tender ways that became the
great fellow well, he tried to dry them.
“ Doogan,†said Robin, when he had
128 Robin's Recrutt.
a
finally mastered himself, “Dm only a
boy now; but Ill be a man by-and-by,
and I'll be a good friend to you.â€
“ An’ I believe yer,†answered Doogan.
“You're different from any one I ever
saw, an’ I believe yer will.â€
“And you must stick to me,†Robin
went on; “ you have promised to.â€
“T won’t —er—never forgit yer,
certain,†Doogan answered, lowering his
eyes, however, before those resting upon
him with such love and confidence.
“ And what happened to you after you
came out of the school of reform?â€
asked Robin, suddenly.
“Oh, nothin’ in particular,†was the
cautious reply. “I guess things chirked
up some after that. We’re all right,
Captain Robin,— you an’ me,—ain’t
we? An’ I think now we’d better be
a-startin’ fer home.â€
CHAPTER VIII.
EARLY EXPERIENCES.
ee thought that Doogan spoke no
more than the truth when he said
people mistrusted him on account of:
his “bad face†troubled, Robin, and
more than ever before he longed for him
to distinguish himself in some way, and
win public approval. Doogan was brave, »
but in these comparatively peaceful times
there was small chance for the bravery
that would lead to high honors.†Doo-
gan was certain that he could neither
write a poem, compose an opera, paint a
picture, nor do any of those things that
upon earnest inquiry Robin learned were
the highways to fame; and he was forced
9
130 Robin's Recruzt.
to fall back on the hope that at least he
would mend all his bad ways, and become
an exemplary common-soldier. It would
require a great effort to do this, for the
poor fellow’s will was weak, so that he
fell easily into temptation.
Never had Robin spoken to him of
these bad habits of his; but there was no
‘need of that, for Doogan knew well what
his feeling was, and that the boy grieved
whenever he himself was in disgrace.
Many times, when thinking of this, he
had resolved to combat these desires that
brought him so low, but nevertheless he
had always yielded weakly, and finally
gave up in despair. Thinking over the
sad childhood of poor Doogan, Robin
pitied and excused his friend’s faults,
and still with trustful persistence be-
lieved in him.
No matter how earnestly he implored,
Early Expervences. 131
he could never induce the recruit to tell
him anything more of his early history;
but in return for his former .confidence
Robin told him of his own youthful
adventures, which, considering that he
had not as yet seen many birthdays, were
numerous and exciting.
They began with a journey over the
plains in his first year, when his father
had been ordered from one post to
another, forty miles distant, in the north-
western State where his regiment was
then stationed. Lieutenant Clancy (as
he was at that time) had but a small
escort, and there were hostile Indians
about, which made the trip dangerous.
When the journey was nearly made, the
little party was attacked by Indians.
Mrs. Clancy and her baby son, with
Susannah, were travelling in a govern-
ment ambulance; and during the fight,
1a Robin's Recruzt.
which took place at a short distance from
it, they were left with the driver. By-
and-by some. Indians came up to the
ambulance, and the driver fled, leaving
the women and the child to the tender
mercies of the savages.
“ Of course, you know, I can’t remem-
ber very well about it, for I was just
nothing but a baby then,†said Robin,
having arrived at this point in the story ;
“but I’ve heard it such lots of times
that it seems as if I really could remem-
ber about Susannah. If it had n’t been
for Susannah, we should all have been
killed.â€
“ And what did she do?†inquired
Doogan.
“ Well, she took a big umbrella, and
going to the backof the ambulance, began
to scream and jump, and to open and
shut the umbrella right in the faces of
Early Expertences. 133
the savages. It was winter and very cold,
and she wore a great red cape with a
hood which came up over the head in a
peak. The soldiers said that the Indians
thought she was the Evil One himself.
Anyway, they were frightened, and ran
off, and we hurried on toward Fort Cas-
per, which we soon reached, safe and
sound. Father calls Susannah an old
Indian campaigner.â€
Doogan was greatly entertained by this
story. He thought it a joke on Susannah
that even the Red Man ran from her.
“Well,†continued Robin, “at Fort
Casper there were lots of Indians around
the garrison. You might look up any
time, and see an old brave with his nose
flattened against the window-pane. They
would n’t dare to hurt you, with the sol-
diers so near, but mother was afraid of
them, and she’d scream for Susannah;
134 Robin's Recrutt.
and when she came, the Indians would
always scoot. Mrs. Preston used to want
to borrow Susannah, for they lived in
the quarters the Indian agent had before,
and the Indians used to stalk into her
house without knocking, and squat right
down by the fire. They never did in
ours.â€
'«“ Well, I should n’t think they would,
if the gentle Susannah was a-standin’
by with a poker, or a kittle of boilin’
water at hand. She’d as soon scald a
man as not,— the lady Susannah.â€
“Why, she wouldn't for anything.
You don’t know how good she is; and
Doogan, dear old fellow, you must oz
call her names.â€
“Me? May the breath fail me first!
Leastways, for any but fe¢ names.â€
“Well, I think those are the kind
she’d hate worst; but you don’t know
Lgrly Experiences. 135
how good she is,†Robin repeated, ‘“‘ and
then, Doogan, she’s brave.â€
“ Brave!†laughed Doogan. “ What’s
the good o’ that fer a woman? One of
them little purty squealin’ things is worth
twenty of her.†:
“Tf she had been one of those little
pretty squealing things, the Indians
would have had our scalps. I’d rather
have Susannah as she is,†said Robin,
stoutly. “Let’s drop the subject, Doo-
gan, because we ‘ll never agree. Now
you go on with your story. What hap-
pened after they put you in the reform
school ?â€
“Suppose we drop subjict number
two,†Doogan suggested dryly. “ Let’s
go back to the Injuns.â€
“ Well, the Indians make a pretty good
subject,†Robin assented. “I know they
made things lively for us, when we were
136 Robin's Recruzt.
out there on the plains, and gave plenty
of other people beside Susannah achance |
to show their courage.â€
“Susannah again. Lord! she is
always the leadin’ lady in the play,â€
murmured Doogan.
“ There was poor Barker, for instance,â€
Robin went on, unmindful of this jest.
“Did you ever hear about him?â€
“Well, no, I can’t say I have. He
were another dvave one, I reckon.â€
“ He was a bugler boy of B Company.
He was a young fellow, and very thin
and small. The men used always to call
him ‘sonny, and they all laughed and
made fun of him; and they said that in
a fight with the Indians he would stand
behind his rifle and hide himself. There
was one man—his name was Hoswell
—that said the hardest things of all.
Barker used to flush all up, but he
Early Expervences. 137
would never answer. Hoswell said he
did n’t dare to, and he had better not.
“ Well, at last one day some men went
out after Indians, and Hoswell and
poor Barker were with them. They
got into a whole nest of redskins, and
there was a fight. There were more
Indians than soldiers, and it was hot
work; but after a while our men beat the
Indians. They captured some, and the
rest got away. We lost two men, — poor
Sampson, who was found all riddled
through with arrows, and another man
who had been picked off before the reg-
ular fight began. Then there were two
men missing, Hoswell and Barker.
“ The men remembered seeing Hoswell
fighting like mad, off by the river; but
no one had noticed Barker, and they
said he had been hiding somewhere, and
would fall in after a while, with a whole
skin.
138 Robin's Recrutt.
“So, after looking. a long while for
Hoswell, they started for the garrison.
After a week or so passed, and nothing
was heard of either of them, everybody
supposed that Hoswell had been killed,
and Barker had deserted.
“ But one day some ranchmen brought
in two men that they had found almost
frozen near their ranch, which was ten
miles from the post. One of them, they
said, had been wounded in an engage-
ment with the Indians, who had tied him
on a pony, and were carrying him off,
when he was rescued, at the peril of his
life, by the other man, who, finding that
he wasn’t able to walk, had carried’ or
dragged him along, over the snow and
the ice, for nearly ten miles, and had then
given up from exhaustion, not knowing
there was a ranch so near.
“ The man who had been wounded was
Early Experiences. 139
- Hoswell, and the man who had rescued
him, and carried him all that long way
in the terrible cold, was the little bugler
boy that he had mocked at.†©
“ They ain’t either of em here now,â€
said Doogan; “ what become of em?â€
_“ They were taken to the hospital, and
everything was done for them. After
a while, Hoswell was out, as well as ever
again. He got his discharge before we
came to Texas, and I heard that he has
settled down nowin Helena. But Barker,
you see, he was n't so strong, and he —
well, he died,†said Robin, winking hard
to keep the tears back.
He looked rather sober for a moment, .
but presently cheered up, and said
pluckily, —
“ Anyhow, I would rather have been
Barker than Hoswell. Wouldn't it be
fine, Doogan, if sometime, after I’m a
140 Robin's Recruzt.
man, we should be together in a ficht, |
and have a chance for some brave action
that would make our names always
remembered together? I should like
that, would n’t you?â€
“Well, I never saw a little chap- so
bloodthirsty as you are, Captain Robin;
an’ sech a soft-speakin’, mild little feller
too,†said Doogan, laughing. “I ain’t
hankerin’ so to be riddled through with
arrers as you are; an’I can tell yer them
stirrin’ deeds yer think so much of are
a heap more comfortable to hear about
than to go through with. Still, if you ’re
bound fer glory, I’m with yer.â€
“Oh, you would n't flinch, I know,â€
said Robin, in a tone of conviction. “If
you only had a chance, you ’d’ show ’em.
If you only had a chance, you'd cover
yourself with glory.â€
“TIT dunno. I’ve a notion that glory
:
Early Experiences. 141
is dreadful unsatisfactory business to go
in fer. That poor Barker a-moulderin’
in his grave ain’t gettin’ much satisfac-
tion out of it, I reckon. I suspect by
this time folks have forgotten what he
did, even to the other feller, — Hoswell.
An’ then half the time these chaps throw
away their lives jest fer nothin’.â€
“That makes no difference,’ said
Robin, grandly. “Did you ever hear
that piece called ‘The Charge of the
Light Brigade’? I learned it once, but
I get so excited I can’t repeat it very
well. I just see those fellows dashing
along to their death, ‘ Cannon to right
of them, cannon to left of them,’ and my
throat shuts up, and I can’t go on.
“«¢ Charge!’ was the Captain’s cry ;
Theirs not to reason why,
Theirs not to make reply,
Theirs but to do, and die.
Into the Valley of Death
Rode the six hundred.
142 | Robin's Recruit.
“That ’s the way it goes, Doogan. And
then to think that after all it was n’t any
use. They knew ‘some one had blun-
dered,’ but they were soldiers, and they
meant to obey orders, whatever should
happen.â€
“Well, now, that ’s just the sort of a
shoe-string that won’t fit wy shoes,†said
Doogan, flippantly.
All through the morning’s talk, light
and shade had chased each other over
Doogan’s face. The shadow was now
coming. He went on, frowning darkly:
“Tf a feller has a mind to throw his
life away, that’s his. look-out, an’ I
haven't any objections, —like that
‘Barker’ you was tellin’ of, — though I
may have my own opinion of the sense of
him ; but when he throws it away cos he’s
ordered to do it, that riles me all up. I
reckon I wasn’t planned out fer a sol-
ae
Early Experiences. 143
dier, fer I ain’t hankerin’ to do any of
them fine deeds. I ain’t a bit o’ putty
that can be squeezed into any shaped
crack or a hole, jest to fill up. I’ve got
to live my own way, an’ that way ain’t
an enlisted man’s way. There ain’t no
use o’ pertending to be different from
what I am, though with them mournful,
beseechin’ eyes o’ yours a-jabbin’ inter
me that way, Captain Robin, I’d say
purty much what yer want.â€
With Doogan’s words a terrible fear
shot into Robin’s heart,—the fear that
Doogan meant to desert.
“Then say you are joking,†he cried,
catching at Doogan’s sleeve. “You
must be joking. You have promised
always to stick to me, and — Doogan,
say that you don’t mean to desert.â€
“Lord! no, little kid. I was jest a-
jokin’,†Doogan answered soothingly,
144 Robin's Recruit.
but his eyes fell before the boy’s earnest
glance. “ Of course I was a-jokin’. Yer
must n’t ‘worry about that, fer if there ’s
any feller deserts this post, *t won't be
â€
me.
CHAPTER IX.
A DESERTING SOLDIER.
T was moonlight, — the bright moon-
* light of Texas. It had been a gay
evening at Fort Carey, beginning with a
band concert. Later, there was singing
and laughter on the porches of the offi-
cers’ quarters, and now and then one
caught the glitter of an officer’s accoutre-
ments, and the flash of a white dress, as
a promenading couple passed under one
of the lamps that outlined the parade-
ground. There was merry-making
enough, too, at the barracks, but through
it all John Doogan sat moodily by him-
self on the barrack porch, smoking his
pipe, and thinking of the events of the
Io
146 Robin's Recruzt.
day, which of a certainty were anything
but pleasant to remember.
“ Doogan sat moodily by himself on the barrack porch.â€
That morning there had been a bat-
talion inspection. At the call for as-
sembly, different companies had formed.
A Deserting Soldier. 147
At the word of command, they opened
ranks; and the inspector, with major,
captain, and other officers who them-
selves had previously been inspected,
passed between the lines, inspecting the
arms, accoutrements, dress, and ammuni-
tion of each soldier. Poor Doogan had
been reprimanded for carelessness ; and
that had been the beginning of a series
of disagreeable experiences, the last of
which promised serious trouble for him.
Captain Clancy, having made up his
company’s account, had ordered him to
pay his canteen bill. This was for such
articles as he had bought at the canteen
building, a sort of shop for the soldiers’
convenience. Doogan was ready and
willing to pay the bill; but the tone of
authority in which the order was given
struck unpleasantly on his sore and defi-
ant mood, and angered him. He gave
148 Robin's Recrutt.
the captain an ugly look, and answered
recklessly, —
“T’ll pay it when I’m ready.â€
There was no doubt the captain would
prefer charges against him for disrespect
to an officer, and he would be tried by
court-martial. One of the old soldiers,
in a tone more expressive of satisfaction
than sympathy, had informed him what
his punishment was likely to be,—a
month’s imprisonment and the loss of a
month’s pay.
“A month’s imprisonment! Poof!
Did they take him for a fool, then?â€
Doogan got up, and stepping inside
the barrack room, glanced at the clock,
and then passed out again into the moon-
light, sauntering along carelessly. Below
the garrison ran the creek, outlined by
the shadowy verdure along its banks,
and winding through the chaparral,
_A Deserting Soldier. 149
which, so monotonous by daylight, was
now soft and beautiful,—an endless
realm of mystery. Mystery of all things
was what Doogan coveted that night.
He loved the shadows, for his purpose
was to hide and fly.
Having passed outside the garrison, he
walked cautiously on the edge of the
road toward the little town. The air
was clear, and he distinctly heard the
call for taps.
“TAPS,†OR, EXTINGUISH LIGHTS.
Slow
a Gey -— (Pee | LN eee
pea
Or O = fer o- | o——-
Put out your lights, Put out your lights, Put
(eee eee
out... your.... lights,
(SS
Put out your lights, Put out your lights.
Ome Robin's Recruzt.
He repeated it under his breath, with
a feeling of scorn for “those fools that
stayed there to be driven like sheep into
a shed, in a night like this.â€
He hid among some bushes down on
the edge of the town, and ‘waited, listen-
ing intently for the sound of wheels.
Just about this time the wagon of a
certain man he knew was due at this
point, on its course toward his ranch, six
miles distant. He was a simple fellow,
who, Doogan was sure, for a little money
would hide him until it would be safer for
him to be abroad, when he meant to walk
to the station below Plunkett, and take
the train there. So he crouched low in
the bushes, and waited.
Instead of the creak of the ranchman’s
wagon, he heard the delicious notes of a
nightingale. There are those who can
listen unmoved to this sweetest of music,
A Deserting Soldwer. 151
while in others it stirs tender and gentle
thoughts. Doogan thought of Robin,
and instinctively he put his hand over
the pocket where he had tucked a photo-
graph of the little fellow that he had
once given him.
“There tis,’ he said to himself. “I
would n’t want to lose the picter of the
only friend I ever had. Queer little kid
he is, anyhow. He took a likin’ to me
right at the start, an’ queer enough it
was, but he ain’t got an eddicated taste,
—that’s it. Afzs recruit I was. Poor
little chap, he won’t have any recruit
ter-morrer, or my name ain't John Doo-
gan, alias— well, no matter bout that.
I spect likely he’s goin’ to miss me some.
Sho! why don’t that bird shut up with
his tooral-looralin’?â€
He crept along impatiently, but he
could still hear the pure notes of the
152 Robin's Recrutt.
nightingale, and his thoughts, too, kept
pace with him. ,
“ Yes; the little chap took a likin’ to
me, an’ I took a likin’ to him, as anybody
would. I would have been glad to know
before I come away that he was a-gettin’
well. He’s in a bad way, an’ the little
face of him seems to me to be growin’
peakeder all the time. That’s the way
it is: a little feller like him that’s good
clear down to the ground, an’ is bound
‘to grow up to be of use in the world, is
hauled right up out of it, an’ a feller like
me is left with the strength of a beast to
go as fast as he can to the bad. Shoo,
shoo, you fool bird, why don’t you shut
Upon
Sounds of footsteps and _ voices
approaching along the road from the
town now gave his thoughts a new
direction.
A Deserting Soldier: mS
“Old Corrigan an’ Corporal Smith,â€
he murmured, as, cautiously peeping out,
he caught a glimpse of the two hurrying
figures. ‘“ What are they down here fer?
’T would be jest my luck to have that
pesky wagon come along now, when I
can’t skip out an’ show myself.â€
He waited breathless, while the two
men passed him.
“T knew he was a bad lot, the first
time I ever set my eyes on that scowling
red phiz he’s got. You never see a
man with those bold, ugly eyes that has
any good in him, and there isn’t any
good in Doogan. I tell you I keep a
stiddy eye on him, for he ’s bound to
desert sometime.â€
The sergeant’s sharp voice fell dis-
tinctly on the clear air, and the deserting
soldier smiled grimly.
“ Talk’s cheap, old Braggadocio,†he
154 _ Robin's Recrutt.
muttered, “ an’ that stiddy eye o' yours
is off dooty jest at the wrong time.
Good-by, Corrigan, old boy. | May yer
success be greater next time!â€
The men had passed, and were at the
top of the hill before Doogan allowed
himself to stir. Then he got up slowly,
and took a look at the old fort, outlined
clearly against the soft moonlit sky.
Of all that garrison there was but one
who would ever in the future give hima
kind thought. All save one would agree
with Corrigan that there was no good in
him, but he knew that one, with un-
shaken fidelity, would still believe he
was not altogether bad.
Doogan counted the houses along the
line, until he came to Captain Clancy’s.
The windows were all dark except those
of the room where Robin lay.
“ Mebbe he’s havin’ one of them sick
A Deserting Soldier. 155
spells o’ his,†he said to himself uneasily,
for he remembered how the fever and
pain exhausted him, and that after such
a night he liked to be carried out into
the fresh air, and that his first call would
be for Doogan.
There was something in Doogan’s
nature, hardened though it was, that
made it difficult for him to desert a friend
in distress. Yet he asked himself impa-
tiently how he could be certain that
Robin was not sleeping peacefully, not-
withstanding that light shining from the
windows of his room.
“Ten to one, ‘tis the taper of my
beauteous Susannah a-passin’ through
his room to her own lily couch. ’T is
the transit o’ Wenus the chaplain was
a-talkin’ of th’ other night, when him
an’ some o’ the men was a-lookin’ at the
stars.â€
156 Robin's Recruzt.
But this little pleasantry did not quiet
Doogan’s misgivings. That light in the
window was like a soft voice, —a little,
kind voice, — that called to him across
the night, and pleaded with him to stay.
The clinging loyalty of little Robin
seemed to hold him as with cords.
Even the noise of the ranchman’s
heavy wagon, as it finally came rumbling
along the road, could not drown this soft
voice, as Doogan stumbled out of the
bushes, and stood looking sharply at the
vehicle to verify it as that of his friend.
‘Lord! I’ve a mind to wait an’ trot
him out once more,†he said to himself
as he stood there. “ Ter-morrer night
will do as well fer me as ter-night, fer all
I know. Anyhow, I'll risk it fer the
little kid. An’ ter-morrer night I ’ll not be
lookin’ back at the old hole, an’ havin’
any more o’ this foolishness.â€
A Deserting Soldier. 157
So the wagon passed on,— the man
inside, half asleep, not recognizing Doo-
gan, who now walked back again to the
garrison.
At this hour the sentry was posted by
the gate, and he would be caught out of
quarters after taps; but he walked on
resolutely, thinking alternately of Robin
and of what he called his own milk-and-
water foolishness.
Drawn by the light shining from the
window, he hurried on, little guessing to
what fate love was leading him.
“ Ter-morrer night,†he kept saying to
himself,— “ ter-morrer night’s the time,
or Ill deserve the luck of a noodle that
hangs round to be locked up for a month
in that old guard-house.â€
CHAPTER X.
DANGER.
oN
Ge
aa
a eee os:
o. aS Ease -0.-@
ese
iA
eS Fire! fire! fire! fire! fire!...
fare eee =
betty “62%
fire! fire! fire! fire! Go, get your buckets,
@_-
& \— 8. oe FE
B- _¥ ——-4—|#-* ee
Eis 4—o---¥ [ 2 g g ‘Eaem@s
get your buck-ets, get your buck-ets, soldiers!
oe NS. eS ee CN
| i =< es
Eb oy SP SE
Get your buckets, get your buckets, get your buckets, all.
Danger. 159
It was hot, terribly hot, on the day
that would be Doogan’s last at Fort
Carey. Summer heat had all at once
burst like a bomb over the land, which
seemed to shrivel and scorch under it.
One of the men was sunstruck at inspec-
tion, dropping down from the ranks as if
hit by a bullet.
The heat was too great for Robin to
go out until after the sun should go
down, at which time he sent word to
Doogan he would be glad if he would
come for him. At. noon, however, a
playful little breeze sprang up, which at
the time every one welcomed gratefully,
little thinking of the mischief it would
do later.
After luncheon Robin lay down on
the parlor lounge, while his mother sat by
his side and fanned him, hoping he would
fall asleep and get the rest he so much
160 Robins Recruit.
needed after his night of wakefulness and
pain. It made her heart ache to look at
this little, quiet shadow of her once active,
rugged boy, with his noisy boy ways, his
disregard of danger, and his cheerful
talk. With soft mother-touch she
smoothed back from his forehead the
still bright chestnut curls, which, as
some one had said, was all of Robin
Clancy that seemed left as it used to be.
Dr. Bemis was impatient to have him
taken away from Texas; and urged by
the sudden heat, she had decided to start
at once, without waiting for the captain,
who, if he got his leave, would follow
them.
Robin’s heavy eyes had closed, and he
lay quite still, breathing gently, so that
his mother nodded brightly to Susannah,
who, good soul, had crept into the room
in her stocking feet, to see if Robin were
Danger. | 161
a
“Tt made her heart ache to look at this little, quiet shadow
of her once active, rugged boy.â€
ir
162 Robin's Recrutt.
sleeping, and to persuade Mrs. Clancy
to go and lie down.
It was then about three o’ clock; and
every one, unless compelled to be at work,
sought the cool and quiet of shaded
rooms, and the forgetfulness of sleep.
But suddenly a bugle-call stirred the
drowsy garrison into wakefulness.
It was the call for fire.
Ladies and children came tumbling
out of their quarters, and hastened away
to the farther end of the garrison below
the old parade-ground. There was a
continual tramp of hurrying feet and the
sound of excited voices. Robin woke up
with a start, crying, —
“What is it, mother? What has
happened?â€
Susannah, having run out to see
where the fire was, came in just in time
to answer the question.
Danger. 163
“It’s a terrible fire broke out in the
quartermaster’s building. There’s no
good frowning at me so, Miss Maggy;
we can’t keep it from Robin, anyhow, an’
he ain’t so silly as to fret, when he knows
we ’re all safe and sound.â€
Two of the ladies now rushed in to
see if Mrs. Clancy would go with them
_ to look at the fire.
“Let me go too, mother; I mst go,â€
cried Robin; but his mother distressfully
shook her head, saying it would be better
for him to stay quietly where he was.
The poor boy, so long foremost in
every adventure, flung himself back with
asob on the sofa. He was trembling
with excitement, and it did not seem
possible to submit to any such sentence.
Fortunately, Susannah came to the
rescue in a way she had, often swooping
suddenly down upon him into his valley
164 Robin's Recruzt.
of humiliation, and bearing him aloft to
a pinnacle of triumph.
“ There ’s no use, Miss Maggy, taking
up with the notion that he’s going to
stay here and finish out his nap just
cause he’s told to. Hecan’t. There’s
no more nap for any one at Fort Carey
till that fire’s out. Hell fret himself
into a fever in here. I know I should.
Now you run along with Mrs. Preston
and Mrs. Grey, and I’ll take care of
Robin.â€
She ended with a glance at those
ladies which seemed to say, —
“You just look after this child, and
I'll look after the other one.â€
Mrs. Clancy, perceiving the wisdom
of Susannah’s words, picked up a fan
and a parasol, and hurried away with
her friends.
“ Now, boy, we ll fix ourselves and
Danger. 165
see what’s going on,†said Susannah;
“but we’re going to take it cool and
easy, as if we had some sense in our
noddles, ain’t we?â€
“ T suppose so,†answered Robin, who
was throbbing with impatience.
He watched Susannah while she
wheeled out his chair and secured to it
a big umbrella as a protection from the
vivid afternoon sun. There was even a
pillow for his head, which he would have
ungratefully pitched out, had he not
been sure that he would be obliged to
wait till she had brushed every speck of
dust from it and rearranged it for him.
As Susannah and Robin passed along,
they could see the smoke rising from
what they supposed to be the quarter-
master’s building, where they had been
told the fire was, and which with various
other buildings was hidden from them
166 Robin's Recrutt.
by a dip in the ground. Having passed
around this slight hill, what a terrible
sight presented itself! Not only the
quartermaster’s building, but the bake-
shop, saw-mill, and an old sutler’s
building were swept over by flames
fanned by that apparently innocent
breeze that was now blowing briskly.
The officers and men were trying to
save what they could from the quarter-
master’s building, which, beside the
government stores, contained papers of
value.
“Who cares for those things?†cried
poor little Mrs. Daly, who with a group
_ of other ladies stood watching the scene.
_ « Why will they risk their lives in that
dreadful building? Oh, Mrs. Clancy,
my husband is in that quartermaster's
building now!â€
“So is Captain Clancy,†answered
Danger. 167
Robin’s mother, who had not been the
wife of a soldier for twelve years without
having learned to control her fears in
the presence of danger. “I think they
won't be foolhardy, and you know it’s
their duty to make every effort to save
government property.â€
“There’s my father,†said Robin,
speaking for the first time since he had
faced that awful spectacle.’ “ Where is
Doogan?â€
“ Doogan? Well, I declare!†ejacu-
lated Susannah; “dead drunk, probably,
down at the Merry Mule.â€
’ “Oh, no, he is not,†said Mrs. Clancy;
“he is here, working like a tiger. He
is over there on the roof of the old sut-
ler’s store. They seem very anxious to
beat the fire back and save it. See!’
they are pouring water on the roof.
The heat up there must be dreadful.â€
168 Robin's Recrutt.
The sutler’s store, like nearly all the
other buildings at Fort Carey, was of
stone, but the roof was shingled. On
the extreme edge of the ridgepole sat
Doogan pouring pailfuls of water that
were handed up to him from below over
the roof. Every third pailful he poured
over his own head, to enable himself to
bear the fierce heat from the burning
quartermastér’s building, which was
within a few feet of the sutler’s store.
Mrs. Clancy walked away a few steps
with the major’s wife, who had beckoned
to her. ;
“T’ve found out why they are so
anxious to save that building,†she said ;
“but I could n’t tell you before Mrs.
Daly, who is frightened enough as it is.
It seems the powder was put in there
while the arsenal is being repaired.â€
“Why don’t they take the powder
out?†asked Mrs. Clancy.
Danger. 169
“ Because they have n’t the key. The
ordnance sergeant has it, and he is not
to be found. Drunk, I suppose.â€
“Then why don’t they break down
the door?â€
“ They tried to do that, but it ’s made
very strong, with iron clamps, and they
didn’t find it easy. See! they are
going to try again now. At first it was
forgotten that the powder was in there.
The fire started in the saw-mill, and no
one thought it would extend so far. Then
when the danger was appreciated, a good
deal of time was lost looking for the
ordnance sergeant. How hot it must be
where that manis! It’s Robin’s recruit,
isn’t it, —Doogan? He fights like a
hero, but he can’t stand it much longer.
If the powder is not taken out soon, the
flames will reach it.â€
The two women, realizing what this
170 Robin's Recruzt.
meant, — the destruction of the garrison,
— looked anxiously at each other. Mrs.
Clancy’s pretty color died out, and the
major’s wife trembled. But they had
both braved many dangers, and they did
not lose courage now. They joined the
group from which they had just sepa-
rated, but their eyes were turned away
from the quartermaster’s building and
toward the roof of the sutler’s store,
where, enveloped in smoke, Doogan was
still fighting the fire.
By this time the heat facing those
furious flames was almost intolerable.
Through all the soot and the grime on
the man’s face one might see the scorched
look of the skin. His eyes (they might
have guessed that) were almost sight-
less. Once he came down the ladder,
and another tried to take his place, but
soon came tumbling down, vowing no
Danger. 171
man could bear such heat, and in a
moment Doogan was up on the roof
again.
“ He is a‘brave fellow,†people said, as
they watched him with wonder.
But as for Robin, he only felt that his
friend was in danger. In his weak little
treble he screamed for Doogan to come
down, but in the furious pell-mell of that
wild scene no one heard or noticed
him.
The soldiers had now succeeded in
breaking down the door of the sutler’s
store, and were removing the powder,
but Doogan’s great strength was ex-
hausted. Twice he was seen to sway in
his seat on the ridgepole, and only
by a visible effort of the will saved
himself from falling.
He had the strength of a lion, but he |
was a lion in torture, blinded by smoke,
172 feobtn's Recrutt.
and with the breath of the fire in his
nostrils. ; |
Odd thoughts were his up there with
the flames and the danger. ° Bits of his
past life flew past him like scenes in a
panorama. It had been full of errors,
and he had been pitiably weak, but he
was strong now, and he meant to hold
in check those furious flames. He
clinched his teeth, and poured bucket
after bucket of water over the roof. If
his strength would only last till the pow-
der was removed, it was all he asked or
cared for.
Snatches of Robin’s favorite poems
came to him, one line in particular
humming itself over and over in his
brain, —
“ Theirs but to do, and die.â€
Oh, if his strength would only last!
but it was going — going.
Danger. ee
There was a crash, as the roof of the
quartermaster’s building fell in. There
were continual explosions, as at length
the flames reached the cans of oil stored
there. There was the ferocious roaring
and tearing of the flames, with bursts of
black, blinding smoke, and through it
all the sound of hoarse voices below.
Finally the men at the foot of the
ladder shouted to him, —
“The powder is out. Come down,
come down!â€
And utterly exhausted, he tumbled
like a log into their outstretched arms.
Was he dead or living, the poor,
brave boy, — their deliverer? The weak,
shameless young soldier, who had yet in .
this extremity risen to such an act of
grandeur,
They laid him on the ground, and,
gathering around, looked at him with
174 feobin's Recrutt.
grateful eyes and lips generous of praise.
But he hardly saw or heard them, only
as they lifted him again, and moved
slowly toward the hospital, one voice, the
softest of all, reached his dull ear, and for
an instant one face in that waving mass
of faces grew distinct. Smiling through
his pain, he waved his hand to Robin.
All that human skill could do was
done for Doogan, but too long he had
breathed that heated air to make recov-
ery possible. The surgeons believed
that he would not live through the night.
At midnight he beckoned to Dr.
Bemis, and spoke to him.
“ Tell him,†he gasped, “ tell the little
kid I was glad it turned out jest so. Tell
him I’m sure now. never to break my
promise to him. Yes, tell him ’t was the
only way, and—I wasn’t sorry. He’s
Danger. 175
been the only friend I ever had, but I
want you to say that I hope he won’t feel
bad nor fret an’ work agin his gettin’
well, nor yet ter forgit me altogether.
I’d like to have seen his little face once
more, but you'll tell him good-by fer
me.â€
He spoke only once again, when just
before he died he tried to raise his hand,
— the great right hand that had been so
powerful, —and it fell feebly back again
on the mattress.
“ My strength ’s clear gone,†he whis-
pered; “I’ve took a notion it’s a-goin’
now to the littie kid, an’ I’m glad, fer
he'll use it better ’n I could. The little
kid is a-goin’ to git well.â€
CHAPTER XI.
CONCLUSION.
T was the day after Doogan was
buried that Robin left Fort Carey.
Those who saw his sad, white face at
the ambulance window on the morning
that the Clancys started for the north,
prophesied that he never would be
brought back to the regiment again. In-
deed, at the beginning of that long jour-
ney he seemed so weak that many times
his mother and Susannah regretted ever
having undertaken it; but each day he
grew stronger. He was but a child, and
though he deeply mourned his friend, he
was interested in new scenes and faces.
At Galveston they took the steamer for
Concluston. 1
New York; and the fresh sea-air, so dif-
ferent from the dry, heated atmosphere
of Carey, sent a current of fresh life
- bounding through Robin’s veins.
Dr. Bemis had faithfully reported to
him Doogan’s last words and messages,
which made a deep impression on his
childish mind. Each morning on wak-
ing, as he smiled up into his mother’s
_ face bent over his berth, he would say, —
_ “A great deal more of dear Doogan’s
strength came to me last night. I shall
try to use it well for him.â€
A few weeks before this story was
written, and some years after the events
which it relates took place, as the band
was playing gayly at inspection on the
parade-ground at Fort Carey, a young
man in a lieutenant’s uniform rode, out
of the eastern gate, and made his way
12
178 Robin's Recruct.
toward what is called the soldiers’ grave-
yard. He wasa finely built young fellow
of unusual strength and beauty.
_ This officer was none other than Robin
or Robert Clancy, who had just graduated
from West Point, and was stationed at
Fort Sam Houston at San Antonio.
He had just obtained leave of absence
for a couple of days to come to Fort
Carey, for the first time since childhood,
to visit the grave of one he called a dear
friend.
As he rode along, instead of the chap-
arral spreading out under the pleasant
morning sunshine, he saw the grimy
but splendid figure of Doogan outlined
against flames.
“Tf, as they say, I have unusual suc-
cess in managing men, it is because of
him,†the young lieutenant thought, as
at last he looked down at the name on
Conclusion. 179
the rough, unhewn stone that marked
the resting-place of Robin’s recruit.
“ Who that witnessed his splendid cour-
age, his grand fidelity, at that crowning
moment of his poor life, could for a
moment lose faith in human nature?
Such a sacrifice cannot have been in
vain.â€
THE END.
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