silent except for a batch
of recruits, and Briggs, the drill sergeant, a trooper brought in
Corporal, a handsome sorrel, and the model of a trained cavalry
charger. The trooper at the same time handed the Sergeant a long whip.
Corporal, the charger, understood as well as any trooper in the
regiment what the crack of the whip meant, from walk, trot, to gallop.
As Kettle appeared, almost dragged in by the two sergeants, a grin went
around among the young recruits, ruddy-skinned and clear-eyed
youngsters, well set up and worthy to wear the uniform of their country.

A whispered conversation followed among the three sergeants and
although Kettle was not in uniform as the other recruits were, Sergeant
Briggs, for a reason imparted to him by Sergeant Halligan, called out
to Kettle:

"Here, Pickup, you get up, and you stay up, and if you don't you'll get
a whack up!"

This passed for a witticism to the recruits, who made it a point to
laugh at all the drill sergeant's jokes. Kettle, with much difficulty,
managed to climb on Corporal's back and crouched there in a heap.
Corporal turned his mild intelligent eyes toward Sergeant Briggs, as
much as to say:

"What kind of a fool have I got on my back now?"

"Take the reins and let her go, Gallagher!" said the sergeant with a
crack of his whip.

Corporal, seeing his duty, did it. He started off in a brisk walk
around the tanbark, and in twenty seconds he heard another crack, and
still another, which sent him into a hard gallop. As the horse
quickened his pace, Kettle dropped the reins, and grasping Corporal
around the neck, hung on desperately as the horse sped around the great
ellipse. At a word from Sergeant Briggs, the horse stopped and walked
sedately to the middle of the hall. Kettle slipped off and staggered
to his feet.

[Illustration: Kettle dropped the reins, and grasping Corporal around
the neck, hung on desperately.]

"Good Gord A'mighty," he groaned, to Sergeant Briggs, "I k'yarn' ride
that air hoss, Mr. Briggs, and I ain't a goin' to, neither. Miss
Betty, she tole me the way to surve my country wuz to look after the
baby and her, so I'm jes' goin' to resign from the army and go home,
'cause it's scrub day."

"You go to the orficer of the day, and report yourself under arrest,"
promptly replied Briggs. "His office is in the headquarters building
and he'll straighten you out, I'm thinkin'."

Kettle started off cheerfully enough, but instead of going