Captain Jinks, Hero by Ernest Howard Crosby (story read aloud txt) 📕

him; I can’t imagine why. I hear they’re going to establish a permanent court at Whoppington to determine who wins victories in future. It’s not a bad idea. My own view is that that battle won itself, and I shouldn’t be surprised if that was the way with most battles. It would be fun to run a war without admirals and generals and see how it would come out. I don’t believe there’d be much difference. At any rate it looks so, if what the navy says is true, and one of the admirals was away and the other playing tag on the forward deck of the Philadelphia. Rum name for a battleship, the Brotherly Love, isn’t it?”

To this Sam made no answer.

On arriving at the barracks he succeeded in having a separate room assigned to him, and thenceforth he and Foster were strangers.

VII The Battle of San Diego

During the next few days there was much activity in the army. It was clear that there was an expedition in preparation. All sorts of rumors were floating about, but it was impossible to verify any of them. Some said that Gomaldo was advancing with a large army; others, that he had surrendered and that the army was about to take peaceable possession of the islands. Meanwhile Sam’s position in the 200th Infantry was most unpleasant. Foster was a popular man in the regiment, and he had set all the officers against him. It was unfortunately a Slewey regiment, and it was too late for Sam to change sides⁠—a thing which he was quite ready to do. He made up his mind never to mention the two admirals again, and regretted that he had named them once too often. He complained to Cleary.

“I’m afraid,” he said, “that there’s no chance of my doing anything. The colonel will see to it that I am out of the way if there’s anything to do. I might as well have stayed at East Point.”

“Brace up, old man! I’ve got an idea,” said Cleary. “I’ll fix you all right. Just you wait till tomorrow or the day after.”

The next day in the afternoon Sam received an order to report at once at the headquarters of General Laughter. He hastened to obey, and was ushered into the presence of that distinguished officer in the palace. It was an impressive sight that met his eyes. The general was believed to weigh some three hundred pounds, but he looked as if he weighed nearer five hundred. He was dressed in a white duck suit with brass buttons, the jacket unbuttoned in front and showing his underclothes. He was suffering a good deal from the heat, and fanning himself incessantly. Several members of his staff were busied talking with visitors or writing at desks, but the chief was doing nothing. He was seated in a superb armchair with his back to a pier-glass.

“Ah! captain,” he said. “I’m glad to see you. Have a whisky and soda? I’ve assigned you to duty on my staff. Report here again tomorrow at ten and have your things moved over to the palace. Major Stroud will show you your quarters, captain!”

Major Stroud advanced and shook hands with Sam. He was every inch a soldier in appearance, but old enough to be a retired field-marshal. The three indulged in whiskies and soda, and Sam took his leave after a brief formal conversation. He found Cleary waiting for him in the street.

“How on earth did you do it?” cried Sam.

“It’s the B.A.C.L.,” said Cleary.

“The what!”

“The Benevolent Assimilation Company, Limited. What do you suppose? With The Daily Lyre thrown in too.”

“Oh! thank you, thank you, my dear, dear friend,” ejaculated Sam, with tears in his eyes. “I was beginning to think that my whole life was a failure, and here I am just in the very best place in the world. I won’t disappoint you, I won’t disappoint you!”

In the few days at the barracks of the 200th Infantry, Sam had learned something of regimental work, and now he applied himself assiduously to the study of the business of the headquarters of a general in command in the field, for the army was practically in the field. At first it all seemed to him to be a maze quite without a plan, and he hoped that in time he would begin to see the outline of a system. But the more he observed the less system he saw. Everything that could be postponed was postponed. Responsibility was shifted from one staff officer to another. No one was held accountable for anything, and general confusion seemed to reign. The place was besieged with contractors and agents, and the staff was nearly worried to death. The general was always very busy⁠—fanning himself⁠—and the days went on.

One morning a fellow member of the staff, a young lieutenant whom he scarcely knew, called Sam aside and asked him for a half-hour’s conference. They went off together into a deserted room, and the lieutenant began the conversation in a whisper.

“See here, Captain,” said he, “we’re looking for a patriotic fellow who cares more for his country than his own reputation. We understand that you’re just the man.”

“I hope so,” said Sam, delighted at the prospect of an opportunity to distinguish himself.

“It’s a rather delicate matter,” continued the lieutenant, “and I must say it’s rather a compliment to you to be selected for the job. The fact is, that Captain Jones is in trouble. He’s about $3,000 short in his accounts.”

“How did that happen?” asked Sam.

“Oh, that’s not the point. I don’t see that it makes any difference. But we’ve got to get him out of the scrape. The honor of the army is at stake. Civilians don’t understand us. They don’t appreciate our standards of honor. And if this thing gets out they’ll charge us with all kinds of things. We’ve got to raise $3,000. That’s all there is of it.”

“Good heavens!