Chapter 8

The New Lookout

The Hekawi camp was quiet and peaceful when O'Rourke and Agarn rode in nearly an hour later. A few of the tribe's people moved about, bringing things inside as they prepared for the rain to come. They saw Chief Wild Eagle sitting on a stump at a campfire in the middle of the camp looking over a piece of birch paper at something written on it. The fire burned bright to compensate for the now heavily overcast sky. They dismounted and headed for him. The chief saw them and stood up.

"How, O'Rourke," he greeted as they came up. O'Rourke only made a grunt in reply. Wild Eagle gestured to the piece of bark in his hand. "Was just going over list of things we'll need for when start up souvenirs again."

"That's what we've come to talk about," O'Rourke said dolefully.

"Good. We get right down to business. You come to pay up tab now that major gone?"

O'Rourke frowned at that thought. "No, I didn't come up here to pay the tab; we came up here to see if you could help us. We're in a pack ah' trouble."

Wild Eagle frowned when he saw the seriousness in the sergeant's face. "What wrong?"

Agarn threw his arms up. "What isn't wrong?! You mis'well just toss that list into the fire! We'll pack up and move to Mexico before morning and forget this place ever existed!"

O'Rourke slapped the corporal's arm. "Agarn, control yourself!" He turned back to the confused chief and motioned to the stumps around the campfire. "We'd better sit down, Chief. It's quite a story."

They sat down and the story unfolded; from the major having to stay another day, to the supply shed, to the switching of wagons. When through, the sergeant ended with a sigh. "And that's what's happened, Chief. The major now has the souvenirs and he's been hanging around too much for us to switch them back."

Wild Eagle shook his head. "Sound like you boys in real corn mush."

"You mean "in real jam", Chief," Agarn corrected.

"Pale-face eat what they like; we eat what we like."

Agarn thought a moment then nodded. "Sounds fair."

"Actually if you want details it more like Indian version of same saying."

"Oh." Agarn made an OK sign. "Got'cha, Chief."

O'Rourke turned beseechingly to Wild Eagle. "Look, Chief, you've got to help us! If we don't get those boxes switched back, we're in big trouble. Not only us, but you as well."

"Won't argue that, but don't know what I can do to help," Wild Eagle said.

"Well, we thought that maybe if you invited the major up here for some reason, we could switch the stuff back around while he's gone."

Wild Eagle spread his arms. "Got nothing left to invite him for."

"Chief, it can be anything!" Agarn said. "Tell him you accidentally skipped over something in the induction ceremony, forgot to give him a lucky chant, shorted him a feather in his bonnet – anything!"

Again the chief shook his head. "Afraid we already went all the way with ceremony. Even did a few things never even on agenda before."

"There's got to be something," O'Rourke said. "What if you tell him that you have to take the gifts back?"

"Smart idea, Sarge!" Agarn pipped up. "Then he'd bring our wagon back for us! It'd save us a trip."

But Wild Eagle shook his head. "Couldn't do that without good excuse, and afraid I don't have one. Besides, like I say before, no refund on teepees."

Agarn looked at O'Rourke disapprovingly. "I could've told you that wasn't a smart idea, Sarge."

Ignoring the remark, O'Rourke's shoulders sagged. "All we need is one – just one excuse for the major to leave the post for a while."

"Fat chance of that," Agarn gripped. "Maybe we should just walk right up and tell him to leave."

O'Rourke looked at him. "What kind of strategy is that?!"

"Desperate strategy." Then Agarn snapped his fingers as he sat bolt straight. "What a minute! That's it, Sarge!"

"What?"

"Well, they say that honesty is the best policy. Let's just go to the major and tell him that the boxes got switched with some other ones and say that we have to switch them back!" He turned to the sergeant with a wide openmouthed smile.

O'Rourke blinked. "Are you kidding?"

"Well, what's wrong with it? We just tell him there was a mix-up."

"And what if he decided to look in the boxes to check which ones are the right ones? Then what happens?"

The smile vanished. "I hadn't thought of that. Forget that policy."

Wild Eagle flipped a hand. "Better you do. Did same thing with that policy long time ago. After that, business profits went up 28 percent."

For a while ideas were swapped around and schemes and strategies suggested. They mulled over each, trying to make them work, but each was eventually thrown out until they were back where they started. No souvenirs, no plan – and a lot of trouble.

Agarn finally sighed. "Well, if no one can think of anything, then we can just go with my original plan."

"What was that?" O'Rourke asked.

"The one where we pack up and move and move to Mexico. At least I know that one will work!"

O'Rourke exhaled a small sorrowful laugh. After all their scrapped ideas, it suddenly didn't sound bad after all. He slowly pushed himself to his feet. "We've got to be getting back to the fort, Chief."

Wild Eagle stood also. "Wish me could help, O'Rourke."

The sergeant patted the chief's shoulder. "Yeah, I know you do. This is just a tough situation alright."

"What you going to do?"

Agarn grimaced. "I was going to ask the same thing."

O'Rourke shook his head with a sigh. "I don't know. I'll try to think of something. But it don't look too bright at the moment."

Agarn laughed dismally. "Well, that's the understatement of the year."

"We've still got tonight, so maybe we can still come up with something." O'Rourke waved a hand as they started back for the horses. "Goodbye, Chief."

Wild Eagle waved back. "Hope it not permanent. But if not hear from you again, will know not to wait up for you."

When O'Rourke and Agarn rode through the gates of Fort Courage an hour after Retreat, the first thing they saw was a detail of men putting the lookout tower back upright again.

"Well, the cannon squad did it again," O'Rourke observed as they passed.

Agarn twisted in the saddle as he watched. "I think they've set a world record by now. The most random consistency of bullseyes." He gave a faked laugh. "At least we've got that to be proud of."

O'Rourke almost laughed. "Too bad they don't give out medals for it."

On the wind, the squawking off-notes of a bugle reached their ears from the compound. They spotted Dobbs sitting on one of the hitching rails around the flag pole, swinging his feet lightly as he practiced blowing taps. They dismounted at the corral and turned their horses loose inside so they could have the cover of the run-in shelters when the rain came. During their short trip back to the barracks, they were serenaded by the song of tabs from Dobbs' bugle.

Agarn scowled as he followed the sergeant inside. "I wish he'd stop playing that. It's really getting me down. It feels like he's blowing a prediction of our future."

A bit later, only the sound of thumping boots filled the quiet room. Once again, O'Rourke paced the barrack's floor while Agarn sat on the edge of his bunk, chewing on his nails.

"There's got to be a way," O'Rourke mumbled.

"Got to be a way," Agarn echoed, speaking around his fingers.

"We can't give up yet."

"Can't give up yet."

"If we could just think of something."

"Just think of something."

O'Rourke stopped his pacing to shoot the corporal a dark look. "Would you quite repeating everything I say! What are you? A parrot?"

"Sorry, Sarge." Agarn went silent and continued to gnaw on his fingernails, teeth working faster than a beaver. With every bite it made a slight tick, turning into a succession of nonstop ticks.

O'Rourke continued to mumble to himself aloud as he followed his path back and forth. "The major leaves tomorrow morning, so that gives us tonight."

Tick. Tick. Tick.

"If we could think of a reason to get the wagon for him … ahh, no good. He's sure to get it himself. So, if we could …"

Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.

He closed his eyes, trying to concentrate. "Of course … if there was a reason for the major to … to … or we could …"

Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.

Sick of the annoying noise, O'Rourke slapped the corporal's hand away. "And quite that too! You're confusing my train of thought! If you're hungry, get something quiet to chew on from the mess hall."

Agarn sighed. "I'm sorry, Sarge. I guess I'm just nervous."

"Well, by the way you were gnawing on yourself; I'd say you're about to have a breakdown! You're 'spose to be thinking! Haven't you thought of any ideas that'll work yet?"

Agarn tossed an arm. "I haven't even thought of any ideas that won't work!"

"Well think harder! If we don't get those wagons switched by the time the major leaves tomorrow, we're finished!"

Agarn's face suddenly brighten. "Hey, Sarge!" He leapt to his feet. "I just thought of something! We don't have anything to worry about!"

"Why not?"

"Well, he said that they were bringing the crates back as souvenirs. We just traded one kind of souvenir for another. Who's going to know the difference?"

O'Rourke glared at him a moment, wondering if he'd really heard what he just did. Then began in a slow low tone, "Agarn, we sell souvenirs for tourist. What do you think's going to happen when they open those crates in front of all those high officials in Washington and find that instead of smoke, bubbles come out of a peace pipe; or find toy tomahawks with rubber blades; or handmade sewn scalps. Plus – you forget we stashed the extra cases of whisky in them, AND the disassembled still. Now," he paused, and Agarn felt knot grow tighter inside his stomach. "Just imagine how it's going to look for a crate, full of the red man's good will, to over a dozen cases of whisky, and an entire still inside when they're not supposed to have any whisky!"

Agarn fell against O'Rourke and grabbed his arm. "Please, Sarge! Enough! I got the picture!"

"And now that you do, help me figure out a way to switch those boxes back to where they belong. One that works this time!" O'Rourke pushed the corporal back down to his bunk.

Agarn thought a moment, but his face told that he saw the situation as hopeless. "Maybe if we say a lot of nice things about the fort, we can make him like it here so much he won't want to leave."

"Oh, great. Great help you are. Now you're talking nonsense! Besides, if you were a major, would you want to stay here?"

Agarn's eyes stared off a second. He flipped a hand. "Forget it."

"I'm sorry you brought it up!" O'Rourke started his pacing again. "How would that help anyway?"

"Well, it just seems that the only way we're going to get those souvenirs back is if the major doesn't leave for Washington."

O'Rourke only gave the corporal an unimpressed glace as he continued pacing.

Another minute went by before Agarn spoke up again. "Maybe we can lure the major out at night while Vanderbilt's on duty and he'll mistake him for an Indian." He scowled deeply as he muttered, "He seems to shoot better in the dark anyway."

"Are you kidding? Do you realize how much trouble that could get the entire fort into?!"

"Well if you keep finding flaws in all my plans how am I 'spose to help?!"

O'Rourke didn't answer.

Agarn folded his arms as he thought. "Personally, I like the idea with Vanderbilt." His eyes squinting as he envisioned it. "If we could just get the major outside when there's still just enough light, and get him to hear a feather, then get him over by the tower…"

Suddenly O'Rourke froze in his tracks. He spun on his heels to face the corporal. "Agarn! That's the answer!"

Agarn looked frantically around. "What? What answer? Where? What?"

In two strides the sergeant was beside the bunk and pulled Agarn to his feet. "What you said about the lookout! It gave me an idea!" O'Rourke's eyes flicked back and forth as he ran over a scheme brewing in his head. "It just might work."

Agarn blinked, perplexed. "You mean … you're going to have Vanderbilt shoot the major?"

O'Rourke huffed. "Of course not. But listen to this: we can't get out during the day because the major's been hanging around. Right?"

"Right."

"And we can't risk getting caught outside at night again because it would look suspicious. Right?"

"Right."

"So what we need is to have it so there's no one around who'll see us."

"Right."

"Okay, so we arrange it so that there is no one around when we make the switch. And how do we go about doing that?"

"Wrong?"

Confused, O'Rourke frowned. "What do you mean "wrong"?"

"I didn't know what to say, Sarge. That's not a right or wrong question."

"I wasn't asking for a right or wrong answer! I was asking if you knew how we're going to do it."

Agarn shrugged apologetically. "I'm sorry, Sarge. It's just right or wrong questions are easier than multiple choice."

O'Rourke shook his head with a sigh. He hooked an arm around his friend's shoulders. "Then I'll let you cheat by giving you the answer. The guard in the lookout tower is what we have to worry about most; but if we got someone up there we could trust, someone who we knew wouldn't give an alarm …" he trailed off, looking at his friend with a grin.

Agarn nodded slowly, still trying to figure this out. "Yeah, I can see how that would be a big help. But who could we get?"

O'Rourke patted Agarn's chest. "You, old buddy. I'll get the captain to put you on night sentry duty. Then I come out as soon as everyone's asleep, you and I switch the boxes, we get you back up in the tower before three o'clock, the next shift takes over, we simply came back here, and no one's the wiser."

An understanding smile crept over to the corporal's face. "Sarge! It just might work!"

"Sure it will. All we got to do is get you on night watch and we're in business!"

"Think we can pull it off, Sarge?"

O'Rourke shrugged. "Why not? All we need a little cunning stealth and ingenuity."

Agarn brightened. "You're right! And we can do that easy!"

O'Rourke slapped him on the arm with a gleeful chuckle. "That's the spirit, pal! Now, let's go see Captain Parmenter."

"Right!" Agarn turned to leave, but as he did his leg caught the edge of a footlocker. He threw out his hands as he went sprawling, hitting the edge of the table. It flipped over and the cups, checkerboard, and checker pieces went flying. Together, they all landed on the floor in an awful clattering racket.

O'Rourke shook his head as he watched. "Why did I think this was going to be easy?" He strode over and tossed the table aside with a sweep of his hand, freeing the pinned corporal underneath. He grabbed Agarn by the back of his suspenders and hauled him up. "Come on, nimble foot!" he barked as he set him on his feet.

"Coming, Sarge," Agarn answered in a daze as he followed the sergeant in a weaving line out the door.

Chief Wild Eagle sat on his stump before the fire, arms folded over his chest, eyes narrowed in deep thought. The list of souvenir supplies laid forgotten for the moment on the other stump beside him. It had been bad news indeed that the sergeant had brought and the future did look rather dim. When O'Rourke couldn't come up with some scheme to get their business out of a tight pinch, it was time to worry. Wild Eagle figured the least he could do was keep trying to come up with something also, and for the last hour he had been mulling over everything in his mind.

From the side, Crazy Cat ambled up. "Camp all ready for rain to come, Chief," he announced.

"Good," Wild Eagle said without interest.

"Also make sure to bring in plenty of dry wood for fires. Last time had lots of complaints from having to go out in rain and bring in wet wood. Teepees got too smoky. Only one who not mind was tribe cook."

Wild Eagle looked up. "Why him not mind?"

"Had side of buffalo meat and he smoked it over fire. Best smoked buffalo tribe had in long time."

"Umph," the chief grunted and went back to his stare.

Crazy Cat noticed the odd behavior. "Something wrong, Chief?"

"Plenty." Wild Eagle gestured. "Sit. We have things to figure out."

Crazy Cat moved the piece of bark and sat down. "Have problem, Chief?"

Wild Eagle nodded. "Could be in big financial trouble."

"That not sound like problem."

"No?"

"No. Sound like big problem." Wild Eagle then briefed the assistant chief in on what O'Rourke had told him. When done, Crazy Cat sat thinking a moment. "Was wrong. That not big problem. That great big trouble."

"Can say that again. And if we not help sergeant fast, me loose best partnership ever had. Been doing good business since joining up with O'Rourke."

"Would lose lot of customers if started selling on our own," Crazy Cat agreed.

"That not worse part."

"What that?"

"Would have to go back to being Indian again. Hunting, fishing, making own blankets." Wild Eagle shuddered. "What a life."

Crazy Cat nodded. "Do have great big problem alright, Chief. So what we do?"

Wild Eagle sat straighter, raising his head slightly. "Have been giving problem lot of thought. And think me have thought of way to help Sergeant O'Rourke."

"What plan, Chief?"

"Tonight, will send out few braves to fort. Switch boxes back with others and bring them here."

"Tonight?" Crazy Cat asked.

"What wrong with that?"

Crazy Cat shrugged lightly. "Just that Hekawi braves afraid of dark and with it going to rain, that probably means going to be storm tonight. And if there one thing braves more frightened of then dark and storms: it storm in the dark."

Wild Eagle shook his head. "Some tribe I got to lead."

Then Crazy Cat added, "Might be able to get them to go if they get something for it though."

"What? You think I kind of leader who would stoop to bribing my tribe to do what I want? That not kind of chief I am. My people follow me because they love their chief."

"Okay. You want I should go tell them now?"

"Not until I tell you what bribe to tell them they get in return for loving chief."

Crazy Cat nodded and waited.

Wild Eagle thought a moment, then gave a nod. "Me got it. Tell braves, whoever volunteer for mission get new pair moccasins."

"We try that one before, Chief."

"Did it work?"

"No."

"Then tell them volunteers get brand new bow and arrow."

"What good that? Braves not know how to use."

"Fresh slab buffalo meat?"

Crazy cat stared with lips drawn back.

Wild Eagle shook his head. "That not work either?"

Another shake of the head reply.

Wild Eagle thought a long hard moment. His chin came up. "Have new idea. All volunteers get one week all-day shift on still once it back in business."

Crazy Cat jumped to his feet at attention. "Chief, I volunteer for this dangerous mission."

Wild Eagle rolled his eyes. "You would."

"One question, Chief. If O'Rourke and Agarn not able to get away with it before, what make you think we can get away with it?"

"Because Indian good at sneaking round."

"They are?"

"Sure. It that way for years. We sneak in, then we sneak out; no one ever know we there." Crazy Cat shrugged then said, "Chief, me would like to say me think this very nice thing you doing for Sergeant O'Rourke."

Wild Eagle inclined his head as he said resolutely, "Partners must stick together."

"Very nice of you not want to see him in trouble."

"Also not want to see business go in bankrupt. That big motivator in anything. Now go gather braves for mission. Tonight when sun sleep behind mountain," Wild Eagle pointed off to the distance, "we ride to Fort Courage."

"'Scuse me chief," Crazy Cat interrupted. He pointed in the opposite direction. "But fort that way."

Wild Eagle looked thoughtful. "Me always wonder why it take so long to get there." He then stood resolutely to his feet. "Now. We go gather volunteers for mission."

He turned to walk away but his foot caught the edge of his stump seat, causing him to lose his balance. As he nearly sprawled to the ground, his flailing hand hit the top of one of two tom-toms sitting nearby with a loud boom. It flipped and rolled noisily away, colliding with some spears leaned against a teepee. They and Wild Eagle fell to the dirt in a clattering racket. His hand smashed through the other tom-tom with a popping thunk and his arm disappeared inside up to his elbow. Scrambling to his feet the chief yanked at the drum. It released him with a plunk and finally fell to the ground with a hollow bong. Quickly, and quite composed, Wild Eagle regathered his chief's barring and began to casually brush himself off.

After having calmly watching the spectacle, Crazy Cat stood eyeing him doubtfully. "You still think Indian sneak better than white-man?"

Wild Eagle stiffened defensively. "That not count. Indians not have to sneak around in own camp. When outside camp; that when it come naturally."

Captain Parmenter sat at his deck in the quiet headquarters office, nose buried in his officer's manual and a small plate of oatmeal cookies set beside him. He leisurely munched on one, absorbed in his reading. Eyes still on the book, he went to dunk the half eaten cookie in the glass of milk before him, but missed and dipped it in the ink well. Unaware, he slowly put it in his mouth and bit down. He paused in mid-bite and his eyes suddenly went wide.

"Uuhhgg!" he spluttered, spitting inky crumbs, and dropped his manual.

The book flopped to the deck, upsetting the glass. Milk splashed out over the plate of cookies and sprinkled some paperwork to the side. Parmenter made a desperate try to snatch up the glass, but it was too late. The contents had already completely emptied from it and filled the small plate and overflowed onto the desktop. Parmenter grimaced at the spreading white puddle and quickly looked around for something to wipe it up. Finding nothing handy at the moment, and desperate to save the paperwork it was heading for, he untied his neckerchief and quickly soaked it up. The puddle gone, he began trying to figure out what to do about the plate.

He started when a knock sounded on the door. Panicking, Parmenter searched around for a place to quickly dispose the evidence of mishap. Again the knock came. In desperation, Parmenter opened the side drawer and shoved the plate inside, some milk in the dish drippling out, and threw the sopping handkerchief on top. He banged it shut and sat up straight as he put on a composed expression. "Come in!" he called casually.

The door opened and Sergeant O'Rourke and Corporal Agarn stepped inside. They came before the desk and saluted at attention.

"Begging the captain's pardon, Sir, uh…" O'Rourke paused, observing the damp spot on the desktop and the empty glass with a ring of milk left in the bottom. "I hope we didn't interrupt anything."

Parmenter quickly shook his head. "No, no. You're not interrupting anything."

"Captain," Agarn frowned slightly. "You're out of uniform."

Parmenter put a hand to his bare neck. "Oh, yes … I'll, uh, take care of that in a minute."

O'Rourke glanced around the office. "Where's the major?"

"He went over to look around the privet's barracks. Where you looking for him?"

"No, Sir. Actually we were looking for you."

"Oh? Well I must say a captain's office is the most sensible place to look for a captain." Parmenter laughed at his own witticism.

O'Rourke and Agarn exchanged blank glances. O'Rourke tried to grin. "Yes, that's … very good, Sir."

Realizing the joke had died before it started, Parmenter turned the laugh into a strange kind of cough to clear his throat. "Uh, what can I do for you men?"

"We've come to you about a problem that we believe you can help with, Captain. It's about Agarn's sleepwalking."

"It is?" Parmenter said.

"It is?" Agarn echoed. O'Rourke thumped him in the back with a fist. "I mean – it is, Sir," he quickly corrected himself.

"Well, what can I do to help?" the captain asked.

O'Rourke leaned his hands on the desk as he explained. "Well, you see, Sir, we thought if Agarn had one night were he was awake instead of asleep during the time he usually sleepwalks, it might break him of the habit. So we thought that if he were on night sentry duty, that just might do the trick."

Parmenter rubbed his chin in thought. "You really think that will help?"

O'Rourke nodded soberly. "I do, Sir. One night up and I'm sure that we can end this dangerous habit. Even if what happened the other night was an innocent accident, we wouldn't it want to happen again. We were lucky last time, but next time someone may get hurt."

The captain's brows went up as he nodded seriously. "True. Very true."

"And we figured it'd be best if we did something about it right away – like tonight. I mean, that way we can make sure it doesn't happen again while the major's here and break the habit at the same time."

"Very true again. Well, if you think it will work, Sergeant. I guess there's no harm in trying. I can change the schedules right now."

"I knew you'd understand, Captain," O'Rourke said tenderly.

Agarn took off his hat as he looked admiringly at his captain. "Captain, I don't know how I can ever repay you. For you to take the time to change schedules just for me," his eyes grew misty, chin quivering, "well … it's just the nicest thing … I've ever heard of." It ended in a sob as he hid his face behind the hat brim. O'Rourke patted him gently on the shoulder.

Parmenter looked on kindly at the corporal. "Oh, think nothing of it, Agarn. After all, you're one of my men and I think it's part of my responsibility as your commanding officer to help you with your problems and do what I can."

Sniffing, Agarn clutched his hat to his chest and smiled at him. "You're too kind, Captain."

Parmenter shrugged modestly as O'Rourke nodded in agreement. "That you are, Sir. And we men," he put an arm around Agarn's shoulders, "of F Troop will never forget, and will always be grateful for it."

The captain looked at them with admiring appreciation. "Thank you. An officer couldn't ask for more from his men."

"You're welcome, Sir." O'Rourke then turned things back to the other matter at hand. "Now, about when Agarn should go on duty. I figure it should be at a time not too early, but late enough that we'll make sure he's awake during the time he'd start sleep walking."

"Right, I'll check the schedule and see when would be a good time." Parmenter opened the right side desk drawer. "I know it's here someplace…"

Intent on looking for the paper, he absentmindedly took out the hidden plate inside to look underneath, holding it up in plain sight. O'Rourke's brows lifted as he beheld the dripping plate of soggy cookies with the sodden wad of neckerchief on top. Realization struck and Parmenter slowly looked at what he was holding, then glimpsed up at his men. A slight flush of embarrassment crossed Parmenter's face as he tried to ease the awkwardness with fake a grin, but it came out rather poorly.

"I, uh … like to dunk my cookies."

"Oh, really?" Agarn piped up innocently. "That's a coincidence. So do I. Personally, I like to do mine one at a time though, and I usually use a napkin instead of my neckerchief. But then again, everyone's entitled to do things the way they like best." O'Rourke rolled his eyes.

Parmenter squirmed. "Uh … yes." Giving up trying to look nonchalant, in a bit of frustration, he quickly opened the left side drawer and stuffed the plate and its mushy contents inside and shut it. He went back to the other drawer and pulled out the list. He casually looked the paper over as though nothing had happened, trying to ignore the wet spots where milk had dripped on it. "Now then, let's see…" Parmenter read over the names and times. "Well, Privet Lewis is on first watch, followed by Privet Clark on second watch. So, I guess if you want, I can put you on Cark's night watch."

"What times is that?" Agarn asked.

"1:00 to 3:00 AM."

"And that's one to three in the morning?"

"Of course."

"Captain, may I ask a question?"

"Certainly, Agarn."

"If it's a night shift, why do they call it that?"

"Well, because those shifts take place at night. If they didn't, it wouldn't be called "night shift"."

"But you said the times were in the morning."

"Yes, I did."

"Then why call it "night" when it's really "morning"?"

Parmenter's brows drew together. "Well … I never really thought about it. Everyone else does." He sat in thought.

O'Rourke's voice drew him out of it. "Well, I think that time slot will do perfectly, Captain."

Parmenter nodded in affirmance as he took his quill pen and changed the name on the paper. "Very good, Sergeant." When done, he looked up at Agarn. "Now, you're sure you can handle this alright, Corporal. You're going to have to stay awake and be alert the entire time."

Agarn puffed out his chest, hooking his thumbs in his belt. "Don't you worry, Captain. Alertness and awareness: that's what I have been trained for. "Vigilance" is my middle name. There's nothing that will get by my watchful eyes. That, I guarantee, Sir."

Parmenter nodded proudly. "Good man, Agarn. I know you'll do a good job. Alright then, be sure to report to the observation tower at 1:00 AM. Vanderbilt will relieve you at three."

"I'll make sure he's there," O'Rourke assured. "And thank you, Sir. I'm sure this will help in curing Agarn of his problem."

Parmenter smiled kindly. "Anything I can do for my men."

"Oh, and by the way. That's a smart idea about your cookies, Captain," Agarn said motioning to the drawer. "If you do it that way, it saves you a lot of time dunking them. I should try it. I guess that's why you're a captain and I'm a corporal."

Parmenter fidgeted in the chair. "Uh, yes, thank you, Corporal. You're dismissed."

He saluted and watched them leave. Only after the door had closed did the captain open the drawer to stare sadly inside at the mushy cookies. He thought a moment, then shrugged as he took the plate out. He picked one up carefully and resumed eating the now presoaked snack as he picked his manual back up and continued reading.

Outside, O'Rourke and Agarn paused out onto the front porch. Agarn put a hand over his mouth as he snickered into it. He leaned close to the sergeant.

"Sarge, that went beautiful! And that bit about the sleepwalking was brilliant!"

O'Rourke shrugged. "Well, if I had come right out and asked the captain to put you on the night watch with no explanation he would've gotten suspicious. Now, let's get back to the barracks. We've got a busy night ahead of us."

Agarn looked up at O'Rourke with an admiring grin. "I've got to hand it to you, Sarge, when it comes to handling the captain with "the touch"; you've got hands of gold!"