t be done at once, and had seated himself at his desk, when the roar
of the sunrise gun and the blare of the bugles warned him that reveille
had come and he must again go to his guard. Before he returned to his
quarters another complication, even more embarrassing, had arisen, and
the letter to Armitage was postponed.

He had received the "present" of his guard and verified the presence of
all his prisoners, when he saw Major Sloat still standing out in the
middle of the parade, where the adjutant usually received the reports of
the roll-calls. Several company officers, having made their reports,
were scurrying back to quarters for another snooze before breakfast-time
or to get their cup of coffee before going out to the range. Chester
strolled over towards him.

"What's the matter, Sloat?"

"Nothing much. The colonel told me to receive the reveille reports for
Hoyt this week. He's on general court-martial."

"Yes, I know all that. I mean, what are you waiting for?"

"Mr. Jerrold again. There's no report from his company."

"Have you sent to wake him?"

"No; I'll go myself, and do it thoroughly, too." And the little major
turned sharply away and walked direct to the low range of bachelor
quarters, dove under the piazza, and into the green door-way.

Hardly knowing how to explain his action, Chester quickly followed, and
in less than a minute was standing in the self-same parlor which, by the
light of a flickering match, he had searched two hours before. Here he
halted and listened, while Sloat pushed on into the bedroom and was
heard vehemently apostrophizing some sleeper:

"Does the government pay you for this sort of thing, I want to know? Get
up, Jerrold! This is the second time you've cut reveille in ten days.
Get up, I say!" And the major was vigorously shaking at something, for
the bed creaked and groaned.

"Wake up! I say, I'm blowed if I'm going to get up here day after day
and have you sleeping. Wake, Nicodemus! Wake, you snoozing, snoring,
open-mouthed masher. Come, now; I mean it."

A drowsy, disgusted yawn and stretch finally rewarded his efforts. Mr.
Jerrold at last opened his eyes, rolled over, yawned sulkily again, and
tried to evade his persecutor, but to no purpose. Like a little terrier,
Sloat hung on to him and worried and shook.

"Oh, don't! damn it, don't!" growled the victim. "What do you want,
anyway? Has that infernal reveille gone?"

"Yes, and you're absent again, and no report fr