Rapidly the young soldiers marched across the grass-grown parade ground, in orderly array, in the last of the drills that morning. The company to which Ned, Bob and Jerry belonged were drawn up near their barracks, and Captain Theodore Martin, after a glance over the two trim lines, turned the dismissing of the group over to the first lieutenant.

The breechblocks of the guns were opened, clicked shut again, and then came the welcome words:

"Comp _sissed_!"

That is what the lieutenant snapped out. But what he really meant, and what the members of it understood, was:

"Company dismissed!"

Ned, Bob and Jerry, with sighs of relief, which were echoed by their comrades, turned to stack their rifles and then prepared for "chow," or, in this case, the dinner mess.

As the three chums were heading in the direction of the mess hall where, every day, two hundred or more hungry lads and men were fed, they saw some members of their company turn and run in a different direction.

"Hello! what's up?" asked Jerry Hopkins, coming to a halt.

"Matter where?" inquired Ned.

"Over that way," and Jerry pointed. "Either somebody is hurt, or there's a riot."

"Let's go!" cried Ned.

"Wait until after grub," advised Bob, with an anxious look toward the mess hall.

"It won't take but a minute," suggested Jerry. "Look, everybody's going. We might as well be in it. If everybody is late to mess there'll be enough left for us to eat. Come on!"

Accepting this argument, that such a general rush toward the scene of excitement would result in a general postponement of the meal, Bob, after a moment of hesitation, joined his two chums. They rushed toward one of the sleeping barracks, and saw that a large crowd was congregating around it.

"What's the matter?"

"Anybody hurt?"

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