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It was not very long before we began to realize that soldiering, after all, was no snap. There was the deuce of a lot to learn, and the deuce of a lot to do. To the rookie one of the most interesting things are the bugle calls. The first call, naturally, that the new soldier learns is "the cook-house," and possibly the second is the mail-call. The call that annoyed me most at first was "reveille."
Run away, Dick, just as I told you, and leave me to talk to Rookie." This was her name for Raven, saved over from childish days. "All right then," said Dick. "But I sha'n't wait for you. I shall go to Cambridge."
"I tried not to think much about it, anyway," she owned. "I couldn't believe what she did. But I couldn't go into it. I can't now. Don't you know, Rookie, there are things you can't talk about? It's bad manners." "I wish the learned divines thought so," said Raven. "Dear Nan!" he added, his mind returning to her. "I didn't know you so very well, after all.
And wouldn't it seem to you you'd better use your influence with your mother to-morrow morning and get out of here?" "Out of here?" repeated Dick. "Out of my uncle's house. You act " here he paused. "Yes," said Nan, "I do act precisely that way. I act as if I had more right here than you. And I have. For I adore Rookie.
She simply meant to enjoy to the full the ecstasy of living, just as if it were going on for a lifetime, under the same roof with Rookie and having him all to herself. Then she came on the pink crêpe, with its black bows, and gave a tiny nod of satisfaction there in the attic dusk, and was all in a glow, though it was so cold.
"Why, Rookie, Dick's not more than half grown up." "He writes," said Raven obstinately, aware of having really no argument. "What kinds of books? Conventional rot. Verse. Anybody could do it by the yard. No, you needn't look like that. 'Course I couldn't! But anybody that could write at all. You could, Rookie, only you wouldn't have the face. You'd feel such a fool."
When I think of it at night, I swear I'm a fool not to complain of the fellow in spite of her, and then in the morning I know it can't be done. She'd block me, and I should only have got her in for something worse than she's in for now." "Yes," said Nan, "she'd block you. Wait, Rookie. Something will happen. Something always does."
"I'll do anything you say, Rookie, to make your mind easy. What do you want me to do. Take her away from here?" He considered a moment. Yes, that was really what he did want. She had put the words into his mouth. "But," said Nan practically, "what you've got to do now is to go down to the house and be tried for your life. Your sister'll be there something after two. And Dick. And the alienist."
But when he had reached the little entry between this room and the one where Tira's body lay, she ran to him. "Rookie," she said, "Mrs. Donnyhill's out there with the children. Don't you want to go in and see Tira?" Raven stood for a minute, considering. Then he crossed the entry and Nan, finding he could not, for some reason, put his hand on the latch, opened the door for him, and he went in.
He even stopped and muttered something to his companion. Burke's blood was up in an instant. He advanced quickly toward the tough. Jimmie sneered, as he stood his ground, confident in the security of his political protection. "Move on there," snapped Burke. "This is no loafing place." "Aaaah, go chase sparrers," snarled Jimmie the Monk. "Who ye think yer talking to, rookie?"
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