“Then I’ve given him a bully handle to his weapon,” admitted Dick Prescott dryly.

They were hustling into khaki field uniform now, and there was little time for comment; none for Greg to go outside and find out what was really in the air.  Battery drill was right ahead of them.  Barely were the chums changed to khaki field uniform before the call sounded on the bugle.

On the recall from battery drill, the chums had but a few moments before they were called out for a drill in security and information.

So the time passed until dinner.  Again Jordan marched in the line of the file closers, and now this first classman had received his official sentence from the commandant of cadets.

So far as the demeanor of the class toward Prescott was concerned, dinner was an exact repetition of breakfast.

On the return of the corps to camp, a few minutes followed that were officially assigned to recreation.

Dick stood just inside the door of his tent when he heard the tread of several men approaching.

Looking out, he saw seven men of his own class coming up.  Durville was at their head.

“Good afternoon, Prescott,” began Durville.

“Good afternoon, gentlemen,” nodded Dick.

“We represent the class in a little matter,” continued Durville, “and I have been asked to be the spokesman.  Can you spare us a little time?”

“All the time that I have before the call sounds for my next drill,” replied Prescott.

“Mr. Prescott, you reported a member of our class last night,” began Durville.

“I did so officially,” Dick answered.

“Of course, Mr. Prescott, we understand that.  The offender was a member of A company, and you are the cadet captain of that company.  But this affair happened at the guard line, and you were not cadet officer of the day.  Mr. Jordan feels that you exerted yourself to catch him in his delinquency.”

“I did not,” replied Prescott promptly.  “At the time when I called upon the cadet sentry to apprehend Mr. Jordan, I had not the remotest idea that it was Mr. Jordan.”

“Then,” asked Durville bluntly, “how did you, who were not the cadet officer of the day, happen to be where you could catch Mr. Jordan so neatly?”

“In that matter I have no explanation to offer,” Prescott replied.

One less a stickler for duty than Prescott might have replied that he had been on the spot the night before in obedience to a special order from the officer in charge.

Dick Prescott, however, felt that to make such a statement would be a breach of military faith.  The order that he had received from Lieutenant Denton he looked upon as a confidential military order that could not be discussed, except on permission or order from competent military sources.

“Now, Prescott,” continued Cadet Durville almost coaxingly, “we don’t want to be hard on you, and we don’t want to do anything under a misapprehension.  Can’t you be more explicit?”