DICK REPORTS A BROTHER CADET

“Detachment halt!” commanded the engineer officer in charge.

Out on the North Dock at West Point the column of cadets had marched, and now, at the word, came to an abrupt stop.

This detachment, made up of members of the first and third classes in the United States Military Academy, was out on this August forenoon for instruction in actual military engineering.

The task, which must be accomplished in a scant two hours, was to lay a pontoon bridge across an indentation of the Hudson River, this indentation being a few hundred feet across, and representing, in theory, an unfordable river.

“Mr. Prescott!”

Cadet Richard Prescott, now a first classman, and captain of one of the six cadet companies, stepped forward, saluting.

“You will build the bridge today, Mr. Prescott, continued the instructor, Lieutenant Armstrong, Corps of Engineers, United States Army.

“Very good, sir,” replied Dick.

With a second salute, which was returned, Prescott turned to divide his command rapidly into smaller detachments.

It was work over which not a moment of time could be lost.  All must be done with the greatest possible despatch, and a real bridge was called for—–­not a toy affair or a half-way experiment.

“Mr. Holmes,” directed Prescott, “you will take charge of the boats.  Mr. Jordan, take charge of the balk carriers!”

A balk is a heavy timber, used, in this case, in the construction of the pontoon.

Cadet Jordan, one of the biggest men, physically, in the first class, scowled as he received this order for what was especially arduous duty.

“That’s mean of you, Prescott,” glowered Jordan.

“If you have any complaints to make, sir, make them to the instructor,” return Cadet Captain Prescott, after a swift, astonished look at his classmate.

“You know I can’t do that,” muttered Cadet Jordan.   “But you-----”

“Silence, sir, and attend to your duty!”

Then, raising his voice to one of general command, Prescott called: 

“Construct the bridge!”

Jordan fell back, with a surly face and a muttered imprecation, to take command of the squad of yearlings, or third classman who must serve in carrying the heavy balks.

In the meantime Dick’s roommate, Greg Holmes, had hurried his squad away to the flat-bottomed, square-ended pontoon boats, placing his crews therein.

Almost instantly, it seemed, Greg had placed the first boat in position.

“Lay the balks!” ordered Dick Prescott.

Cadet Jordan moved forward with some of his yearlings, who carried the heavy balks, or flooring timbers, on their shoulders.  It was hot, hard work—–­“thankless,” as the young men often termed it in private.

These balks were laid across the first pontoon.