Mark Mallory

“ Williams stood and regarded him in silence for some moments, and then he took him by the hand again.
"Mr. Mallory," said he, "just as sure as I'm alive this thing shall stop! Keep up heart now, and we'll make a fight for it! While there's life there's hope, they say—and, by Heaven, you shan't be expelled!"
[Pg 192] The following evening, when the reports were read, Mark's list of demerits had reached a total of ninety-five.
The excitement among plebes and cadets alike was intense, and it was known far and wide that Mark Mallory, the "B. J." plebe, stood at last "in the shadow of dismissal." ”

“ Mark Mallory was a strong swimmer, as those who remember his rescue of Grace Fuller can testify; his hands were all bandaged up, which interfered with him considerably, but he had gotten off his coat in expectation of some such smash-up as this, and so he was able to take care of himself. The only person who needed help was Indian. As Dewey had said, Indian was too fat to sink ”

“ The girl's last words were said in a tone of anguish and despair, and she buried her head in her hands once more.
"It is all that other girl!" she continued, after a moment's pause. "He thinks of no one but her! Oh, how I hate her! He is with her all the time; he asked her to join that society——"
"How—how on earth did you know?" gasped Texas.
"Do you think I am blind?" cried the girl, fiercely. "Do you suppose I cannot see what Mark Mallory is doing? It is all that Grace Fuller—all! ”

“ And Lieutenant Allen started with Company A, the very street in which Mark Mallory's tent stood!
A thousand wild plans had occurred to the six, to Texas in particular. He might "hold up" the tac, prevent the inspection! Or dress up as Mark and have himself reported! Great Heavens! he must do something!
The officer began at the head of the street. It was the work of but one second to glance into each tent. It would take but five seconds more to reach Mark's, to note the fact that there were but three in that tent, and that Cadet Mallory was absent out of camp, out of limits! ”

“ To bind them hand and foot was a still easier task. And then the mighty Texas flung one over his shoulder, the rest carrying the other two; they sprang down into the ditch; they climbed the parapet of the fort beyond; and a moment later were safe, out of sight or hearing.
Then Mark Mallory, sentry number three, brushed off his soiled clothing, picked up his soiled gun, shouldered it and marched calmly away down the path. Tramp, tramp.
Sentry number three would have loved dearly to "see the fun," but there is no worse offense known at West Point than deserting a sentry post. ”

“ Imagine a crowd of yearlings allowing themselves to be stopped while hazing a plebe—stopped, mind you, by half as many plebes—and then to make it a thousand times worse to have the fellow they were hazing taken away!"
"And the yearlings all chased back to camp by a half-crazy Texan," chimed in another, who hadn't been there and so could afford to mention unpleasant details.
"Yet what can we do?" cried Baby. "We can't offer to fight him. He's as good as licked Billy Williams, and Bill's the best man we could put up. That Mallory's a regular terror."
"Mark Mallory's got to be taken down." ”

“ The amazement of Smithers, the proprietor of the circus, may be imagined. The last time he had seen Texas was while Mark Mallory (Professor Salvatori) had been making a speech to the crowd in the dime museum tent, when Texas had made an attack upon the professor and been chased out of the town. Here he was again, driving a buffalo in the Hudson. And there was Professor Salvatori, too, still in his old tennis blazer, talking to the cowboy without a trace of anger. ”

“ The uniform of a West Point “plebe,” as the new cadet is termed. He was standing in front of one of the tents in the summer camp of the corps, and speaking to half a dozen of his classmates.
The six looked up with interest when they heard what he said.
“Come in, Mark,” called one of them. “Come in here and read it.”
“This is addressed to me,” began Mark Mallory, obeying the request and sitting down. “But it’s really meant for the whole seven of us. And it’s interesting, as showing [8] what the old cadets think of the tricks we bold plebes have been playing on them.” ”

“ You fools! Dig a tunnel, hey? Ho, ha! Well, suppose you dig it. I’ve a revolver here, and I’ll [139] blow the blamed head off the first man that comes out. How do you like that. Guess again, Mark Mallory.”
The Parson sprang up as if he had sat down on the proverbial haystack with a needle in it. That voice was the voice of the “enemy,” Bull Harris! A moment later the Parson was creeping toward the sound with stealthiness that would have done credit to an Apache.
“We are in the hands of the enemy,” he gasped. “By the all-wise, high-thundering, far-ruling Olympian Zeus!” ”

“ The Seven were all smiles in an instant, and the Parson came out of his shell once more and leaned forward with interest.
"What is it?" he cried.
"It won't take long," said Mark, "to tell it. You may not like it. It'll take lots of planning beforehand if we do try it. It seems to me that the yearlings have set a trap for us, and want us to walk into it. Now, I think we might bid them defiance, and show how little we care for them, by going in right boldly and outwitting them in their own country, that's the plan."
The six stared at him in amazement. ”

“ I dunno how I’d live in this hyar place ef Mark Mallory warn’t in it. He’s got more life than any dozen o’ you fellers. The Banded Seven, that air society we plebes got up to stop the hazin’, wouldn’t ever do anything ef ’twarn’t fo’ him bein’ leader. ”

“ Do you think that eye’ll shut up entirely?”
“What did they do?” demanded Mark, his blood boiling as he surveyed his comrade’s bruises.
“Well, b’gee, they sailed up, in the first place, and began a lot of talking. ‘You belong to that Mallory gang, don’t you?’ said Bull Harris. ‘Yes,’ says I, ‘I do, and I’m proud of it, too. What’s the matter with Mallory?’ ‘Matter?’ roared Gus Murray. ‘B’gee, he’s the confoundedest freshest plebe that ever came to this academy. Hasn’t he dared [156] to refuse to let us haze him? Hasn’t he played all kinds of tricks upon us, made life miserable for us? ”

“ A moment later, Mark, to his great amazement, was confronted by the curiously contrasted pair. Indian was beaming like a sunflower.
"Mr. Mallory," he said, with a flourish, "allow me to present my friend, General Miles."
Mark bowed, and the general took the hand he held out.
"Mr. Mallory," he said, "I am proud to meet you. I have heard of what you have done. The service needs such men as you."
And the whole corps heard him say so, too. The general had been very careful to say those words in a loud and clear voice that made the camp ring. Then he turned and spoke to an orderly who was passing. ”

“ But Bull and his gang saw [Pg 170] no obstacle in that; most of them were always head over heels in demerits themselves, including Murray—though he was a "cadet-corporal." Being thus, and in consequent danger of expulsion, they were reckless of possible trouble. And besides, Bull had sworn to haze that plebe, and he meant to do it.
The plan in brief was simply this: Mark Mallory must be demerited right and left, everywhere and upon every possible pretext, just or unjust—and that was all. The thing has been done before; there is talk of doing it whenever a colored lad is admitted to the Point. ”

“ But the watchful “tac” had had his eye on Mark, knowing his friendship for the girl. Lieutenant Allen did not mean to have his lines broken up in that way; there were others to attend to that rescue, and he ordered Mallory back to his place with a stern command that Mallory dared not disobey. Now he was [273] standing like a warrior in chains amid the battle’s roar, watching with the rest, and trembling with horror and dread.
What if Fischer should fail—be beaten back? What if smoke should overcome him, and he should sink where he was? ”

“ When the yearlings returned, behold, Mark was making himself charming to another girl, and Chauncey, perfectly in his element at last, was busily engaged in describing the streets of Paris to a group of half a dozen!
"Cut them all!" whispered the yearlings.
Well, they tried it. To be brief, Grace and the other two danced with no one that next dance. But three more girls went down on the blacklist, and the plebes' triumph was yet greater.
"We'll leave 'em no one to dance with," chuckled Mark. "We'll send them all home!" ”

“ He had scarcely crossed the color line that marked the western edge of the camp before he caught sight of one more of the Seven. And Mark had seen him but an instant before the thought flashed over him that this one had been through just the same experience as Texas and “B’gee” Dewey.
The new arrival was Parson Stanard. His face was not scarred, but it was red with anger, and his collar was wilted by excitement which betrayed itself even in his hasty stride as he walked.
“Yea, by Zeus!” he cried, as soon as he reached his friends. “Gentlemen, I have tidings. The enemy is risen! ”

“ The other members of this bold and desperate secret "anti-hazing" society were Dewey, the prize story-teller of the party, "b'gee;" Indian, the "prize pig;" Texas, a wild and woolly cowboy just from the plains, with a right arm that had paralyzed four cadets in as many minutes, and, last of all, Mark Mallory, the leader.
"Just look at the things we've done, b'gee!" continued Dewey. "Look at the times they've tried to haze us and we've outwitted them! See how we had the nerve to yank 'em out of bed the other night, b'gee. Or, if that isn't enough, just think of Bull Harris." ”

“ It does not take long for news of so exciting a matter as a really important fight to spread among the corps. No sooner did the Parson leave camp than cadets began to stroll in to find out why he had come, and, learning, they hurried off to discuss the news with their own tentmates. So it happened that by the time the cadets marched down to mess hall to supper every man in the battalion knew that Mark Mallory, the B. J. beast, had succeeded in getting another chance at "Billy" Williams. ”

“ Mark smiled feebly; and at the same instant a chorus of cries arose from the despairing cadets on the shore.
"Tell Mallory we'll leave him alone if he'll come back," was one of them.
"B'gee!" cried Dewey, "did you hear that? What do you say?"
And Mark raised himself with a struggle.
"No, no," he gasped. "Don't! I mean to fight them."
"Fight them! How can you fight with a broken shoulder?"
"I—I won't tell them it's broken!" panted Mark.
"Wow!" roared Texas, wildly. "Ef you don't lick 'em I will! Whoop! An' as fo' them cowards on the shore, let 'em get fired an' bust!" ”

“ No plebe had ever dared to do such a thing in West Point's history. One might almost as well think of a plebe's becoming a captain! And here was Mark seriously proposing it!
They had a perfect right to go. They had an invitation, and no one could ask for more. But the freezing glances they would get from every one! The stares, and perhaps insults from the cadets! Still, as Mark said, suppose Grace Fuller, the belle of West Point, danced with them? Suppose all the girls did? Suppose, swept away by the fun of "jollying" the yearlings, the girls should even prefer plebes! ”

“ I want you to understand that we’ve found out about that confounded organization Mallory’s gotten up among the plebes to fight us——’”
“Did he say that?” cried Mark, in surprise. “How did they learn?”
“They didn’t,” said Dewey. “They don’t know we call it the Banded Seven, or anything else about it, but they’ve [157] seen us together so much when they’ve tried to haze us that they’ve sort of guessed it. Anyway, they’ve determined to break it up, b’gee.”
“They have! How?”
“Simply by walloping every man in it, b’gee. And they started on yours truly. The whole crowd piled on at once, Mark.” ”

“ I don't think they'd relish that, you being a fourth class man."
"I don't think they would," responded Mark, with a queer smile which the girl did not fail to notice.
"I don't care!" she exclaimed, suddenly. "They can get mad if they want to. I think a great deal more of some plebes than I do of yearlings. Excuse me just a moment."
And then, to Mark's infinite glee, this beautiful creature hurried over and said something to the group of cadets, at which they all bowed and walked off rather stiffly, sheepishly, Mark thought. The girl rejoined him, with a smile. ”

“ As a fighter I don't think you would make much of a success. This is a case of 'angels for council; devils for war.'"
"Go ahead," sighed Grace, "if you have to go to hospital I'll come over and nurse you."
Mark took his departure soon after that; he set out for camp, revolving in his mind all sorts of impracticable schemes for outwitting the first classmen that night. His [Pg 198] thoughts were interrupted by hearing his name. He looked up; a cadet was addressing him.
"Mr. Mallory," he said, "good-afternoon. My name is Harden. Mr. Wright has asked me to be his second."
Mark bowed. ”

“ He knew that Mark was too honorable to strike him now, whatever his insults.
“That bluff about suspecting us is pretty hollow,” he continued. “You don’t need to go away from the camp. If you weren’t too much of blamed coward and stuff you’d not offer the excuse. You can meet us just beyond the sentry line and go with us. And if there’s any yelling done we’ll be caught as well as you. Do you see? If you’re afraid of a crowd’s pitching in let that fool of a Texas bring his guns. You bring some, too. We aren’t afraid of the whole seven of you!” ”