Читать книгу A West Point Treasure; Or, Mark Mallory's Strange Find онлайн

9 страница из 48

Master Benjamin Bartlett having been laid on the shelf for a month, the Seven cast about them for a new subject of conversation to while away the half hour of “recreation” allotted to them between the morning’s drill and dinner.

“I want to know,” suggested Dewey, “what shall we do this afternoon, b’gee?”

That afternoon was Saturday (“the first Saturday we’ve had for a week,” as Dewey sagely informed them, whereat Indian cried out: “Of course! Bless my soul! How could it be otherwise?”) Saturday is a half holiday for the cadets.

“I don’t know,” said Mark. “I hardly think the yearlings’ll try any hazing to-day. They’re waiting to see what the first class’ll do when I get well enough to fight them.”

The Parson arose to his feet with dignity.

“It is my purpose,” he said, with grave decision, “to undertake an excursion into the mountainous country in back of us, particularly to the portion known as the habitation of the Corous Americanus——”

“The habitation of the what?”

“Of the Corous Americanus. You have probably heard the mountain spoken of as ‘Crow’s Nest,’ but I prefer the other more scientific and accurate name, since there are in America numerous species of crows, some forty-seven in all, I believe.”