life in the united states army is very nicely balanced, at least in the big cantonments where civilians are turned into soldiers in about six months’ time.

that is to say there is a well-balanced schedule, so much work and so much play. reading the schedule of what is required in the way of drill would lead one to suppose that there was no time for play at all, but there is, even on the french front, with grim no man’s land staring one in the face. shows and plays are sometimes given within sound of the big guns.

the officers in charge of the men well knew that “all work and no play makes jack,” not only a dull boy, but a poor soldier. so recreation is planned for. part of this plan is to let the young fellows amuse themselves, make their own fun, which sometimes is better than having it made by others.

the captain of the company in which ned, bob and jerry lived, moved and had their being,[191] had planned a minstrel show, as bob had said. on the cantonment grounds was a theater to which professionals occasionally came from the cities to give their services. almost every night there was a moving picture show.

“but this is to be different,” explained bob, to his listening chums. “captain trainer has found out that there’s considerable talent in our bunch——”

“ahem! did you look at me?” asked jerry, assuming an air of importance.

“he pointed to me!” declared ned.

“you’re both wrong! it was i—macbeth—he meant!” declaimed a lad with a deep and resonant voice.

“oh, cut it out and listen,” advised bob. “this is the game. the captain has found out there are a lot of fellows in our company who have acted in amateur theatricals, and there are a few professionals. so he’s going to get up a minstrel show, and let the other companies see what we can do. there’ll be a little admission charged, and if we make any money it will go into the company’s fund to buy——”

“grub!” some one cut in, and everybody laughed, for by this time all knew bob’s weak point.

“well, grub, if you like,” he admitted. “but say, fellows, won’t it be great?”

[192]

“sure!” came in a chorus.

and then the boys fell to talking about the coming minstrel show.

preparations for it went on apace. captain trainer was an enthusiast, and when he set out to do a thing he carried it to a finish. it was that way with the minstrel show.

a good many “try-outs” and much practice work were necessary. then, after a deal of weeding work, like that which a careful gardener gives his plants, a very good show was evolved.

it took pattern after the usual black-face affairs, with end-men, bones, tambourines, the interlocutor and specialists. some of the lads were very clever, and really were almost as good as professionals. ned, bob and jerry were called on to state what they could do, and when it was found that they had a comic-song trio “up their sleeves,” they were put down for that.

“we’ll make a hit all right,” declared bob, after one of the rehearsals.

“if we don’t get hit ourselves,” added jerry.

“that’s right!” chimed in ned. “i understand there is a premium on old cabbage stumps and other articles of that nature.”

“don’t let him scare you, jerry,” advised the stout lad. “he’s only afraid of that high note of his. but don’t worry, ned. we’ll cover you up if you make a break!”

[193]

“huh! i like your nerve. now come on, let’s try that jazz song over again,” which they did, to the delight of those privileged to listen to the try-out.

in the camp was a professional who showed the boys how to make up with grease paint; burnt cork, the time-honored method of making a black-faced comedian, is now only used by boys when they play in the barn. on the stage, even for amateurs, black grease paint is used.

“say, you look just like a negro!” exclaimed bob to jerry, as they were getting dressed in the evening before the show was to be given. “you’ve even got the walk down pat.”

“yes. i’ve been practicing a bit,” jerry admitted. “if you’re going to do a thing, do it right, i say. you’re not bad yourself, bob.”

“oh, well, my figure is against me. but i guess we’ll make out all right.”

indeed the three motor boys were taking special pains with their appearance. that is not to say the other actors were not also, but ned, bob, and jerry seemed to enter into the spirit of it more than some of their chums.

the various acts came off as planned, and were much appreciated by the audience. there were many local hits and take-offs, not only on the enlisted men, but on the officers as well. mild fun was poked at the different weaknesses of many in[194] the ranks, and not a few of those higher up, and considerable laughter resulted.

the three cresville friends did their act so well that they were recalled again and again, and if they had not prepared something for encores, which jerry had insisted on, they might have had merely to bow their thanks. as it was they sang verse after verse of a comical song, bringing in all their friends, to the great delight of the latter.

“you couldn’t have done better, boys,” complimented captain trainer, as ned, bob, and jerry came off the stage for the last time. “i’m glad you’re with us. when we get over on the other side i hope you’ll still keep up your spirits enough to give us some enjoyment, when we’ll need it more than we do here.”

“we’ll do our best,” said jerry modestly.

“you’d think they were a bunch of professionals to hear them talk,” came a low, sneering voice to the ears of the three chums, when the captain walked away. there was no need to ask who had spoken. it was pug kennedy, and he was standing just outside the dressing room, talking to one or two of his special cronies. he did not have many associates. his “scrappy” nature prevented this.

“i’ve a good mind to go over and give him a punch,” declared ned, angrily. “he’s made too[195] many of those uncalled-for remarks of late. i’m not going to stand it!”

“don’t start a row now,” advised jerry. “it will spoil all the fun. let him alone. i heard something to the effect that he was going to apply for a transfer, and if he does he won’t bother us any more.”

“i hope to goodness he does,” said bob. “he makes me tired!”

pug gazed over in the direction of the three friends, almost as if inviting trouble, and then, seeing that they were not going to resent the remark he had made with the intention that they should hear it, he lighted a cigarette and strolled out into the darkness. discipline was somewhat relaxed on account of the minstrel show, and permission was given for the men to remain up an hour later than usual, while the guard lines were extended to allow considerable strolling about.

“come on, let’s go for a walk,” suggested bob. “it will cool us off.”

“what, walk with this black stuff on our faces?” exclaimed ned. “if any one sees us we’ll be taken for negroes.”

“what of it?” asked jerry. “every one knows what’s going on. besides, we can’t wash up yet. we have to go on in the final chorus in about an hour. i’m with you, bob! we’ll take a walk and cool off.”

[196]

they strolled through the camp, and presently found themselves near its outskirts. they had plenty of time, as they had finished their special part of the programme, and only came on in the grand “wind-up.”

as they were walking along, talking intermittently of the show and the chances of going “over there,” bob, who was slightly in the lead, called in a low voice:

“look, fellows! see him!”

“see who?” asked ned. “do you mean pug kennedy?”

“no, but look over under that light!” went on bob, pointing. “don’t you see that man. it’s crooked nose again! come on! we’ll get him this time!” and he started to run, followed by ned and jerry, who did, indeed, see in the glare of a camp light, the form of a man. and, as he momentarily turned his face toward them, they saw that his countenance was marred by a bent and crooked nose.

the boys gave pursuit, their faces still blackened.