A tale of the Riverpark Academy for cadets, in which there is growing discontent leading to a revolt against the academy's leaders. The rebellion takes the form of an unauthorized "holiday" in which a number of cadets leave the grounds for a some fun, including attending a circus. The story follows one cadet's descent into dishonor and disgrace, and how he strives to become an honorable boy again.
By : Homer Greene (1853 - 1940)
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“Battalion, right forward, fours right, march! Guide left!”
The command was sharp, distinct, soldierly. The first set of fours moved straight to the front with unhesitating firmness and uniformity of step; the orderly sergeant took his place to the left of the set with ease and rapidity. The remainder of the battalion broke into fours, wheeling to the right with promptness and precision, and in the next moment the entire column was on the march.
The Riverpark Academy corps of cadets were the best-drilled troops outside of West Point. The uniform was dark blue; the belts, gloves, and shoulder-belts were white, and the breastplates were of polished brass. The barrels of the cadets’ muskets glittered in the April sunlight, as they marched and counter-marched, wheeled to the right and left, marked time, and halted.
There was a short interval of rest. The boys in the ranks talked freely, laughed, shouted at one another, leaning out from the line to do so, making strenuous efforts, nevertheless, to keep one foot in place, according to the rule.
Major Drumlist, the drill-master, wiped the perspiration from his face, exchanged a few words with the members of his staff, and then called the troops to attention.
He divided the battalion into four platoons, and placed each platoon in charge of an officer, with directions to instruct the men more thoroughly in the art of wheeling. Upton’s infantry tactics, which had recently been adopted in the United States Army, had but lately come into use at Riverpark; and as the excellence of the new system depended largely on the perfection attained in the wheelings, it seemed necessary to give much time and attention to that particular branch.
The third platoon, in the absence of Lieutenant Smeath, of Company B, was placed in charge of Adjutant Brightly, who marched his men to the southerly part of the parade-ground, and began a systematic drill, as directed. The adjutant was a lad of sixteen years. He was well-proportioned, stood erect, and looked the typical soldier throughout. He was well versed in the tactics and an excellent drill-master, but it was apparent that to-day he had little heart in his task. The men in the ranks noticed his indifference, and took advantage of it. The major came down to them in his round of inspection.
“Lieutenant Brightly,” he said, “you are too easy with your men to-day. Give your commands as though you meant they should be obeyed, and see that strict discipline is maintained in the ranks.”...
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