to write to Armitage himself and suggest his speedy return, when this eventful night arrived.  Now he fully made up his mind that it must be done at once, and had seated himself at his desk, when the roar of the sunrise gun and the blare of the bugles warned him that reveille had come and he must again go to his guard.  Before he returned to his quarters another complication, even more embarrassing, had arisen, and the letter to Armitage was postponed.

He had received the “present” of his guard and verified the presence of all his prisoners, when he saw Major Sloat still standing out in the middle of the parade, where the adjutant usually received the reports of the roll-calls.  Several company officers, having made their reports, were scurrying back to quarters for another snooze before breakfast-time or to get their cup of coffee before going out to the range.  Chester strolled over towards him.

“What’s the matter, Sloat?”

“Nothing much.  The colonel told me to receive the reveille reports for Hoyt this week.  He’s on general court-martial.”

“Yes, I know all that.  I mean, what are you waiting for?”

“Mr. Jerrold again.  There’s no report from his company.”

“Have you sent to wake him?”

“No; I’ll go myself, and do it thoroughly, too.”  And the little major turned sharply away and walked direct to the low range of bachelor quarters, dove under the piazza, and into the green door-way.

Hardly knowing how to explain his action, Chester quickly followed, and in less than a minute was standing in the self-same parlor which, by the light of a flickering match, he had searched two hours before.  Here he halted and listened, while Sloat pushed on into the bedroom and was heard vehemently apostrophizing some sleeper: 

“Does the government pay you for this sort of thing, I want to know?  Get up, Jerrold!  This is the second time you’ve cut reveille in ten days.  Get up, I say!” And the major was vigorously shaking at something, for the bed creaked and groaned.

“Wake up!  I say, I’m blowed if I’m going to get up here day after day and have you sleeping.  Wake, Nicodemus!  Wake, you snoozing, snoring, open-mouthed masher.  Come, now; I mean it.”

A drowsy, disgusted yawn and stretch finally rewarded his efforts.  Mr. Jerrold at last opened his eyes, rolled over, yawned sulkily again, and tried to evade his persecutor, but to no purpose.  Like a little terrier, Sloat hung on to him and worried and shook.

“Oh, don’t! damn it, don’t!” growled the victim.  “What do you want, anyway?  Has that infernal reveille gone?”

“Yes, and you’re absent again, and no report from B Company.  By the holy poker, if you don’t turn out and get it and report to me on the parade I’ll spot the whole gang absent, and then no matinee for you to-day, my buck.  Come, out with you!  I mean it.  Hall says you and he have an engagement in town; and ’pon my soul I’ll bust it if you don’t come out.”