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Updated: May 1, 2025
In the meantime some enlisted men had caught and quieted Satan, leading him from the tanbark. "That brute never will be used again, if I have my way," muttered Captain Albutt, loudly enough to be heard by most of the cadets of the squad. Then the drill proceeded as though nothing had happened. "I fixed my man that time, and easily enough," growled Haynes to himself.
"I do not know, replied Captain Albutt simply, unless it is because Congress has always been too busy to think of the simple act of justice of providing proper retired pay for a cadet who is injured for life." "Has Mr. Prescott been injured so that he'll have to leave the Army?" "I don't know. But, if you'll excuse me, ladies, I am going over to the hospital now and find out."
Through the scattering four in front plunged Satan, fire in his eyes, his nostrils quivering. Captain Albutt took the situation in at once. "Squad halt!" he roared. Be cool, Mr. Prescott! Bring your mount down with tact, not brute force.
Satan, finding other devices for throwing his rider to be useless, soon resorted to the most wicked trick known to the equine mind. He reared, intent on throwing himself over backward, crushing his rider beneath him. Captain Albutt reached the spot at a gallop, just in the nick of time. Standing in his stirrups, he caught one side of the bridle just in time to pull the horse's head down.
Now he gave them some general instruction as to the nature of the evolutions they were to perform. The next command came by bugle, and the platoon broke into column of fours, moving forward at the trot, Captain Albutt riding at the left flank near the head of the column. As the horses fell into column of fours Haynes saw his chance.
His uneasiness increasing, Captain Albutt put spurs to his own mount and went after Satan. "Steady, Mr. Prescott," admonished the cavalry officer, riding close. I'll soon have a hand on your bridle, too. Yet every time that Captain Albutt rode close, Satan waited until just the right instant, then swerved violently, snatching his head away from the risk of capture.
Having thrown its rider, Satan cantered off to the far end of the riding hall, where he stood, snorting defiance. Captain Albutt allowed Prescott's head and shoulders to sink easily to the tan-bark. "Are you badly hurt, Mr. Prescott?" inquired the officer. "The small of my back is paining me just a little sir, from the wrench," replied Prescott coolly.
Knowing that he would never have the ordeal to face again, Haynes summoned all his "brass" to the surface and stepped down the length of the quadrangle. He passed many groups of curious cadets, none of whom, however, sent a look or a word to him. Then on out through the east sally-port strode Haynes. On the sidewalk beyond, he passed Captain Albutt.
"If it hadn't been for you, sir, my neck would have been broken." "I think it would," replied the cavalry officer, smiling. "But this is one of the things I am here for. Do you feel as if you could rise, Mr. Prescott, with my help?" "I'd like to try, sir." Dick did try, but watchful Captain Albutt soon let him down again. "You may not be much hurt, Mr.
The turnback had already made sure that his useful black pin was securely fastened inside his fatigue blouse. Arrived at the drill ground, the cadets dismounted, standing by their horses in a little group until Captain Albutt should ride out of one of the cavalry stables and take command.
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