Jim grabbed his arm. "Pipe down," he whispered. "Someone is coming!"

The back door of the house opened and a man came out. He was tall and

thin and was clothed in a dark suit, long light overcoat. He wore a hat

pulled down over his eyes. He looked all around as he stepped out of the

door and then closed it behind him with a resounding slam. Reaching into

his pocket he took out a key and placed it in the lock, turning it and

trying the knob. This done he walked to the car, started his engine and

rolled out of the yard.

The boys waited until he was well out of sight and then discussed

further plans. Jim was cautious about going to the house but was

overruled.

"It will be all right to go up and look in the windows," Terry argued.

"The man locked the door, and that's a sure sign that no one is in the

place."

They approached the house carefully and looked in the back windows. The

place was almost bare of furniture, but they did see a table and two old

chairs in the kitchen. The rest of the house, at least downstairs, was

totally empty. When they had made a tour of the place they gave it up.

"I doubt if there is anything upstairs," said Don. "I imagine this man,

whoever he is, simply comes here to receive messages from the hall.

Perhaps at night they send them by flashlight. It certainly is a

puzzler."

Rhodes looked at his watch. "Boys, we'll have to get going. We've got

just time to make it for supper. I suppose we won't accomplish anything

by standing here wondering, so we may as well beat it."

They retraced their steps hastily and rowed across the lake, where they

put the boat away and went inside to wash up for supper. After the

evening meal the four of them spent some time talking things over. Just

before leaving them the senior said:

"Well, we'll keep this to ourselves. Whatever is going on may be all

right, but I have my doubts. I think there is a mystery right here under

our own noses, and let's hope we can run it down. Suppose we all keep

our eyes peeled and see what we can do."

_5. The Man with the Key_

Although the four cadets took care to keep their eyes wide open they saw

nothing in the succeeding days to help them solve the mystery which they

had run across. At times they discussed the subject and made guesses,

but these generally ended in nothing, and there were times when they

half believed that they might be making a mountain out of a mole hill.

No news had been received as to the whereabouts of their missing

colonel, and life at Woodcrest drifted on in the same efficient manner.

The arrival of a new cadet gave them something else to think about. One

rainy day when the cadets were loitering about the halls waiting for the

dinner call, a young fellow in his late teens arrived at the front door

of Locke Hall. He was very dark, exceedingly well dressed, and carried

himself with a swaggering air. He carried a suitcase plastered with

foreign labels, and a cigarette drooped carelessly from one corner of

his mouth. Gaining the center of the main hall he looked carelessly

around. The cadets were standing in groups laughing and talking, and

finally he addressed a third-class man.

"Say, sonny," called the newcomer. "Where do I find the

sign-on-the-dotted-line room?"

Considering the fact that Bertram, the third class cadet, was at least a

year older than the newcomer, the term "sonny" was something out of the

way. Talk ceased instantly among the cadets and they turned to look. Mr.

Bertram answered with easy courtesy.

"That is the door down there," he said.

The new man nodded easily. "Thanks, kid. Information is appreciated, I

assure you. Is the agony man inside?"

"I beg your pardon?" asked Bertram.

"Is the clerk or headmaster or whoever officiates in there?"

"I think you will find someone in there who will take care of you,"

returned the upper classman.

"I hope so. Somebody had better. I usually get what I want, you know."

Mr. Bertram didn't know anything about it and he looked fixedly at the

boy. Totally unabashed at the looks cast in his direction the newcomer

walked into the office, where an instructor was sitting behind the

information desk.

The instructor looked up as the boy placed his suitcase on the floor.

"How do you do?" he said, smiling pleasantly at the visitor. "What can I

do for you?"

"Oh, I don't know," said the boy. "Not an awful lot, I guess. My name is

Vench, Raoul Vench." He paused and waited, but Captain Chalmers said

nothing.

"My name is Vench," repeated the newcomer.

"Yes, Mr. Vench. Well, what can I do to help you?"

"Do you mean to say that you didn't know I was coming?" demanded the new

student.

Chalmers shook his head, his glance keen. "I didn't know it. Perhaps

Major Tireson did. Are you going to register with us?"

"I certainly am," answered the boy. "My father sent your headmaster a

letter and told him that I was coming. I should have thought he would

tell you, so you could be on the lookout for me. Yes, I'm going to be a

member of your cadet corps and I'm here to sign up. Pass over the

articles and a pen, already dipped in ink, if you don't mind."

Captain Chalmers looked steadily at the boy for an instant and then his

gaze wandered to the groups of cadets outside of the door. Suddenly he

bit his lips to keep back a smile, a rather grim one, and then reached

in the drawer of the desk, to take out some sheets of paper and a pen.

With intense seriousness he dipped the pen into the ink and then looked

at Vench.

"Not cold, are you?" he asked.

"No," answered the boy with a stare. "Why?"

"I thought maybe you were," returned the instructor. "You still have

your hat on. And that cigarette, which will be your last for something

like four years, is already burned out. As there isn't anything in that

wastebasket you might throw it in there."

Vench looked closely at the teacher and seemed on the point of saying

something, but evidently he changed his mind, for he took off his hat,

threw away the cigarette and turned once more to the captain.

"What is your name, please?" asked the instructor.

"Raoul Mulroy Vench, of Murray Bay, Florida, lately from Quebec and

points all over the world," glibly answered the youth. "Age, 18,

unmarried, nationality American citizen, though French-Canadian. How is

that for a start, general?"

"That is a very good start," gravely replied the captain. "I'm glad you

recognized my rank, Mr. Vench." He continued to write for a few minutes

and then looked up. "Have you any money on you at present?"

Mr. Vench looked knowing. "I'm surprised at you, sir. I only arrive here

and you want to borrow from me already! Yes, I have a few odd pennies on

me. About two hundred dollars, I think."

"Hand it over, please, Mr. Vench. At the end of the year it will be

returned to you. While you are here you will be allowed just two dollars

a week of it, with which you can pay your expenses."

Vench threw back his head and laughed. "Two dollars!" he exclaimed. "My

dear man, I was counting on that two hundred lasting me just for two

months, and that would be stretching it. Is it a joke?"

"Not at all, Mr. Vench. Have you read over the rules of the institution?

Surely you must have. You didn't come here without knowing the rules and

regulations. The cadets are busy with their studies and athletics and

have almost no use for ready money except for cokes and sodas.

Transportation to games is furnished free and money is not strictly

needed. You see how it is."

"Yes, I see," grumbled Vench, handing over the money. "I expected to

have a good time in this place, but I see I am quite mistaken."

Again Chalmers glanced at the groups in the hall. "I think you will have

at least an interesting time here, Mr. Vench. Now the next thing for you

to do is report at the medical department for examination."

"The second nuisance, eh?" sighed Vench. "That'll be a waste of time,

officer. I'm in tip-top shape."

"For the sake of our teams, I am very glad to hear it, Mr. Vench.

However, the rules require that you go through with an examination."

Chalmers beckoned to a cadet in the hallway. "Will you step here a

moment, Mr. Sears?"

Mr. Sears stepped up and saluted the instructor, who returned it. "Take

Mr. Vench to the medical department," the teacher directed.

"Very good, sir." Sears turned to Vench. "Right this way, sir."

Vench grinned and picked up his bag. "Right with you, usher. Thanks a

lot, officer." He followed Cadet Sears down the hall, passing carelessly

through the waiting throng. Captain Chalmers looked thoughtfully after

him, and then, shaking his head, resumed his work.

The cadets in the hall had remained quiet during the conversation, every

word of which they had heard plainly, but now that Vench was out of

earshot they began to talk.

"Hey, how do you like that!" chuckled Terry to the group around him.

"Well," drawled Chipps, rubbing his chin. "I don't just know what to

think. You've got to give me time. This is the first time I've ever seen

anything like that."

"I'm afraid he'll have a whole lot to learn," smiled Don.

"If he lasts long enough to learn anything," said Jim.

"All in the line of duty," added Rhodes. "We'll have to help him lose

some of his flipness and importance. What do you say, Lieutenant

Sommers?"

"I'd say that the spirit of the corps will have a hard time sinking into

him," said Sommers, as the bell sounded.

Mr. Vench was fitted out with a uniform that afternoon and little more

was seen of him. But on the following day he began his career at

Woodcrest, and that career furnished amusement and some annoyance to the

cadet body. The boy was thoroughly spoiled and almost unbearable. Two of

the seniors and Terry tried to do the right thing by calling on him that

evening, in an effort to make him feel at home. Terry returned to his

room and reported in high disgust to Don and Jim.

"My gosh, what a sample of misdirected energy!" he exclaimed with a

snort. "We tried to be decent to him in spite of what we saw this noon,

but it was time wasted. Not that he was rude, but absolutely unbearable!

Talks continually of his travels, his girl friends, who seem to swoon

with grief if he doesn't write daily, and his ability to do all of

everything on the face of the earth. I'm through. I'm willing to try to

be nice to any fellow who will be halfway human, but I draw the line on

one who spends all of his time praising his own virtues."

"Likes himself, eh?" inquired Jim.

"No," snapped Terry. "Bows down and worships himself. I'm afraid that

boy will run aground on trouble hard."

"And yet," said Don, slowly. "I imagine he could be a very nice guy if

he wanted to be. Maybe he'll come out of his shell sometime."

"I'm glad you imagine it," retorted Terry. "That's as far as it is

likely to go."

"All right, Terry," Jim grinned. "Hadn't you better study your history?

Any man that will try and tell his teacher, as you did today, that

Blucher wasn't at the battle of Waterloo, should brush up a bit, I

think."

"Okay, kid, I will. The only thing that surprises me is the fact that

Vench wasn't there, or related to Napoleon or something else. Maybe he

was, I don't know. That fellow is thoroughly spoiled."

"A little too much money, no doubt," said Don. "If we give him a chance

he'll get over it."

"Optimist!" said Terry, beginning to study.

Few if any of the cadets were inclined to take Don's view of Cadet

Vench. During the following days he made himself objectionable in every

way. Even in the drill he tried to show his superiority, but Lieutenant

Sommers promptly checked him and after due and fair consideration

reported his short-comings. Major Tireson rebuked the unruly cadet and

he had no more use for the precise lieutenant. But Sommers took great

pride in the squads that it was his duty to drill, and the cadets,

always inclined to laugh at the dignity of the fussy lieutenant, upheld

him in his act.

Vench had few friends, and they were recruited from the weaker element

of the fourth class, with whom he was very liberal. It was evident that

he had more money than his allowance and it was thought that he had lied

to Captain Chalmers or that he was getting it from some outside source.

A small group went often to the town and ate plentifully between meals,

but as it was not particularly the business of the cadets they commented

on it among themselves and let it go at that.

One boast that Vench made was listened to with interest by the entire

body of cadets. He was standing with the group of fourth classmen just

before the study hall bell rang, and Don and Terry heard it. That

morning Major Tireson had made a statement that most of the cadets

thought unnecessary. He had told them that with the colonel not there,

he didn't think it was wise to plan on having their mid-term dance that

year.

Several times during the year, mid-term, Christmas, and in the spring,

the school held a dance. Each class usually sponsored one of these

events and kept whatever profit they made. The competition was high

among the four classes, each one trying to outdo the next in originality

and cleverness. It took a good deal of ingenuity to plan decorations

that could disguise the gym for an evening. The year before, the

second-class men, who had sponsored the spring prom, had transformed the

gym into a carnival. They had even devised a revolving stage resembling

a carrousel from which the band played.

Major Tireson, however, was firmly against holding a dance in the

colonel's absence.

"He needn't worry," Rhodes had said, briefly. "Until the colonel gets

back we aren't likely to do any of the things we generally do, or have

much fun."

Vench was defiant about it. "Half the fun of going to school is having

dances and picnics," he said, in study hall. "At all the other schools

I've been to, they have lots of them. But this stuffy old major vetoes

it before we even have a chance to suggest it. I'll tell you what I'm

going to do. I'm going to organize the best dance this school's ever

seen. Something that will go down in the unwritten history of this

academy."

"Better wait until the colonel gets back before you do, Vench," advised

Don.

"I will not! I'll do as I please!"

"Suit yourself," said Don, turning away.

"I generally do. Want to be in on it, Redhead?"

"Why, I think not," drawled Terry. "I don't want to be dismissed from

here in my very first year. And referring to the highly disrespectful

way in which you speak of my blond locks, don't you think they might

shine out in the darkness and give you and your party away?"

"You guys make me sick!" growled Vench.

"Sorry," said Terry. "Can I show you the way to the doctor's office?"

Late in the afternoon Jim and Rhodes got special permission from the

Officer of the Day and went to the town to buy some things. Special

permission was necessary except on Saturday afternoons, and they

lingered in town until the sun had set. The days were growing much

shorter and it was dark when they arrived at the gate and walked up the

path. None of the cadets were around and they started to cross the lawn

when Rhodes pulled Jim suddenly into a clump of high bushes that lined

the path.

"What's up?" asked Jim, quickly.

"Somebody just came around Locke Hall and is going toward Clanhammer!"

whispered the senior.

Jim looked in the direction indicated and saw that Rhodes was speaking

the truth. A man, his form somewhat indistinct in the twilight, was

walking rapidly down the path in the direction of the silent old hall.

By peering through the bushes the two cadets could watch him, and they

could hear his footsteps on the gravel. The man did not pause or look

behind, but walked straight up the stone steps, inserted a key in the

lock and opened the door. With a bold and confident step he went inside.

"Wonder who in the world that is?" breathed Jim.

"I couldn't make out," replied Rhodes. "But who ever it is, he has the

key to Clanhammer Hall. There is no light in the place, so he must know

his way around."

They waited for some time, but no one appeared and the hall remained in

total darkness. Rhodes looked at his watch.

"We'll have to go," he announced, regretfully. "We have to be in at six,

you know, and it is ten of now. We have to wash for supper, so we

haven't any time to spare. I'd surely like to stay here and see who

comes out."

"So would I," agreed Jim. "But we'll have to go. If we could only see

who it was!"

The two cadets returned to the building, checked in, and went to their

rooms. While Jim washed he told the other two of their discovery. Terry

went to the window and watched the lawn, but without discovering

anything.

"We'll see if anyone is missing from the dining hall," Don suggested.

But although they took great care to check up they could learn nothing

at the evening meal. Every cadet and officer was in his place at the

tables.

"That leaves us one theory," decided Rhodes, a little later, as they

talked it over in the boys' room. "Either the man got back before supper

or one of the cooks or the janitor went in there. The question is: who,

besides the colonel, has a key to Clanhammer Hall?"

_6. Rapid Developments_

For the next few days nothing worthy of note happened. It was early one

morning the following week that things began to move. The boys had

studied until bedtime and had turned in when the lights were put out.

Life at the school flowed on as it did when the colonel had been there.

Mr. Vench seemed busier than usual and made several trips to town.

Clanhammer Hall revealed nothing new.

How long the boys had been asleep on that particular night they did not

know, but they were aroused by a sound that was entirely new to them. A

furious clanging of gongs sounded throughout the school on every hall

and stairs, and the cadets started up in bed with rapidly beating

hearts. They had often seen the huge gongs out in the halls but had

never heard them in action. Now they were being rung violently.

Terry was the first to bounce out of his bed. "Come on, you guys," he

called. "The school is on fire!"

Don and Jim lost no time in springing from their beds and reaching for

their clothes. "Too bad they don't turn on the lights," he grumbled.

As though in answer to his complaint the overhead lights were turned on

and the boys could see what they were doing. The sound of the gongs then

died down abruptly, but a rushing, scattering sound told them that the

cadets were all up and hurrying into their clothes.

"Wonder where it is?" speculated Jim, as he pulled on his shirt. "I

don't see any blaze or smell any smoke."

"It may only be a very small one," said Terry, who was now fully

dressed. "I suppose we report in assembly, don't we? Or maybe we march

out on the campus. One thing they have neglected to do around here is to

give us any fire regulations."

Terry was right in his statement and the Mercers wondered if the

oversight was due to the fact that the colonel was missing. They opened

their door and hurried out into the hall. Almost every door was open and

cadets were talking and walking toward the stairs.

The cadet captain of the third class hurried down the hall and saw to it

that each boy was out of his room. With the rest of the cadets in Locke

Hall the three chums went down the stairs and found the biggest

gathering in the hall. There was no smoke or fire to be seen anywhere.

"Well, there may be a fire somewhere," observed Terry. "But it certainly

ran away in a hurry."

"Whatever it was, it was in the library," a cadet said. "I just saw the

Officer of the Day and Major Tireson go in there in a hurry."

With one accord the cadets trooped down the lower hall and congregated

at the door of the library. They noticed that the door was flung far

back and that the lock was still sprung. It was evident that the door

had been violently broken open, and as none of the cadets had ever known

the library door to be locked, they were surprised.

A number of books had been thrown out of a bookcase near the panelled

wall, and the major and Rollins, the appointed Officer of the Day, were

looking closely at an old portrait on the wall. Impelled by their

growing curiosity the cadets of Locke Hall crowded into the room and

around the two officers. Then they saw that the bottom of the picture,

along the frame, had been slashed for at least five inches, close to the

wood. The picture, an inexpensive one portraying the celebrated "Thin

Red Line" in action, was a familiar article to the young men, and they

were at a loss to know why it should have been slashed.

"Very singular," Major Tireson was saying. "Let me have a full account

of what happened, Rollins."

"I had finished my duties as Officer of the Day," said Rollins. "And I

had returned to my room, unfortunately forgetting to return my report

book to the office. I noticed the omission and was going back with the

book when I saw the library door closed and a light coming out from

beneath. I knew that there should be no light there at this time of

night--or morning, and I quietly opened the door. Two men were in the

room, one of whom was engaged in slitting the picture, while the other

stood near the door in which I was looking. He must have heard me step

to the door, for before I could grapple with him he had thrown his

weight against the door and pushed me out into the hall. I heard the

lock snapped into place and then I rang the gongs to attract attention

and get help. As you know, when you and I finally broke in, the men were

gone, probably through the window."

"Did you get any kind of a glance at the faces of the men?" asked the

major.

"Only a brief glimpse, sir. The man at the portrait had his face turned

away and I didn't see it at all, but the man here at the door gave me

just time to see him. He was tall and quite dark, but as he had a slouch

hat pulled down over his eyes I could not altogether make him out. That

is all I have to report, sir."

The major's eyes wandered back to the slashed picture and a puzzled look

spread over his face. "I can't see what object any outsider could have

in our picture," he observed. "It certainly isn't a masterpiece or

anything of the kind." He turned and frowned slightly at the cadets who

had listened with great attention. "You wouldn't say it was one of the

men of the corps, up to any prank, would you, Rollins?"

"Oh, no, sir," promptly reported the cadet. "These were men dressed in

business suits and civilian hats."

"Well," decided the major, "I suppose the men have gotten away; in fact

I heard the motor of an automobile as I came downstairs. This is most

puzzling. In the future you had better quietly call me instead of

ringing the fire alarm. I see that the cadets from Inslee and Clinton

Hall are here, too."

The major soon after ordered them to their rooms, and the cadets from

the other halls, who had turned out when they had heard the clashing

gongs in Locke, went back to their dormitories, a confused idea of the

whole thing in their minds. The students from Locke Hall went rather

reluctantly up to their rooms, but many of them did not attempt to go to

sleep at once. Each room held its own conference, and that occupied by

the Mercers and Terry was no exception.

"Suppose it all had something to do with what goes on at Clanhammer

Hall?" whispered Jim, as they sat on Don's bed in the darkness.

"I don't know what to think," his brother answered. "This happening

beats them all, to my way of thinking. You can imagine some sort of an

excuse for most actions, but who in the world could explain why two men

should start to cut out a cheap picture in our library?"

They talked it all over and at length, but they arrived nowhere, so at

last they went to sleep and slept soundly until morning. It was an

excited and interested group of cadets who assembled in the chapel that

morning, and they waited impatiently to see if the temporary headmaster

would say anything about the events of the past morning. But to their

disappointment he did not and they went away to classes, to speculate

all day on the mystery.

But just before it was time to report for drill, and just as the last

class was about to break up, certain cadets appeared in each classroom

and gave instructions to the teacher. In the class where the fourth

class men were studying Captain Chalmers rapped for attention.

"Immediately after leaving this classroom you will report to general

assembly," he announced.

There was a buzz and a stir among the cadets, and as soon as books had

been put away they hurried to the assembly. An undercurrent of

excitement was clearly visible, and they were eager for news of some

sort. The major called for order and delivered his message briefly.

"It is not necessary for me to recount the details of what went on here

last night," he stated. "You all know it, I am sure. However, we have

learned nothing new, and while I am not inclined to treat the matter as

being of any importance, still I do think we may use it for a little

military practice. My thought is that for the next few days we will

detail certain cadets to do active guard duty around the school all

night. That will give you each a touch of true military life. The

captains of the classes will tell you when you are to serve, and also

give you your position. Any negligence while on duty will not be

tolerated. Assembly dismissed."

Drill followed, but what followed drill was not part of the schedule,

though human and natural. A general buzzing and discussion took place

all over the campus and in rooms. Most of the boys welcomed the idea of

patrolling the grounds because of the novelty of it, but they were

divided as to the major's reason. Could it be possible that he was

really afraid? This question was more than the cadets could answer, and

it furnished food for much speculation.

Don hurried into the room soon after supper with a grin on his face.

"Well, I got it!" he announced.

"Got what?" asked Jim.

"I got my watch tonight," Don explained. "From eleven 'til twelve I

patrol from the end of the campus to the east gate, up the hill and

down."

"And while you are walking we'll be blissfully sleeping," smiled Terry.

"Oh, I don't mind, tonight," answered Don. "It looks as though it is

going to be a peach of a night, with a big moon. I may be a whole lot

luckier than you two, at that. You may get something like two or three

in the morning, perhaps on a rainy morning, and I'll be the one to sleep

blissfully."

"Say," spoke up Jim. "Your patrol takes you right back of Clanhammer

Hall, doesn't it?"

There was silence for a minute and then Don nodded. "Yes, it does," he

said. "I pass right back of it. From the edge of the campus I walk back

of the hall, down the slope near the lake and to the gate. Yes, I'll

pass the old place a good many times, I guess."

"Perhaps you'll see something that may help a bit," Terry said. "Be

careful not to get tangled up in anything, though."

Don was compelled to go to bed until a quarter of eleven, when the

Officer of the Day rapped on his door and in a low tone told him to

report for guard duty. Both of the other boys were sound asleep when Don

left the room and went to the office. A cadet by the name of Arthurs was

due to be relieved, and Don received final instructions. Then, taking

his rifle, which the cadets used in drill, Don went out of the side door

of Locke Hall to the edge of the campus and waited for Arthurs.

The cadet came across the campus from the direction of the old hall and

saluted Don briskly. He said that there was nothing to report.

"I'm a little sorry to have you relieve me," he smiled. "Although I'm

getting tired of tramping up and down. Nice night, isn't it?"

Don said that it was, and after saying goodnight to Arthurs he commenced

his patrol. His way led him across the grassy campus back of the school,

back of the gloomy old hall and down the slope near the lake to the iron

gate at the east end of the school grounds. He made his first trip and

found that it took him a full five minutes from point to point.

Don rather liked the whole idea. It might be quite useless as far as

definite results went, but it was fun and a touch of the life which

interested him. All of the boys would have to take turns at it, and he

knew as he paced up and down that other cadets were patrolling on the

other three sides of the school. He had been very fortunate in the time,

for a fine big moon rode overhead, lighting the country up in a yellow

splendor. The night was cool, but not unpleasantly so, and he felt

exhilarated as he moved along with a swift, snappy stride.

Each time he passed back of the old hall he looked searchingly at it,

but it was deserted and black, seemingly wrapped up in its covering of

ivy. Down by the east gate he lost sight of it, and it was a minute or

more before he once more walked around back of it. Don had been

patrolling for almost forty minutes, and was now down near the gate.

Reaching it, he swung around and started on his backward patrol.

He once more came in sight of Clanhammer Hall and started to pass by it.

His patrol had taken him some fifty feet back of the hall, close to some

small trees, and he entered a patch of black shadows. From force of

habit he looked at the old building and then came to a swift halt.

A file of seven men, bending low and obviously keeping in the shadows of

the old place, was making its way around the corner of the building.

Each of these cadets, whose uniforms Don could plainly make out, held

something in his hand. Astonishment seized Don, and although he had a

faint notion of what might be going on, he could hardly believe it.

But he knew his duty and he was quite determined to carry that out. It

was evident to him that they thought he was still down by the gate.

Lowering his rifle he stepped forward and then stopped.

He thought at first that they intended to gather in some corner outside

the building, but he found he was mistaken. They had approached a cellar

window and the leader raised it and thrust his leg through. Don hurried

forward, challenging them sharply.

"Halt! Who goes there?"

The seven cadets, with the leader halfway through the window, started

and turned. Don's suspicions were confirmed. They were all fourth class

men and each one of them had tools in his hand. They looked foolish and

confused and glanced at each other.

"Hey!" cried Don, as no one spoke. "What's going on here?"

"We were going in to fix up this old hall for a dance, Mercer," said a

cadet.

Don was bewildered. "On a night like this, when we have guard duty?" he

cried. "And almost at twelve o'clock. You guys must be bats!" A sudden

suspicion came over him. "Tell me, whose idea was this?"

There was an interval of silence and then the cadet who had answered him

at first replied. "Vench's idea."

"I thought so," nodded Don. "Why did he pick out tonight and why this

place?"

"Well," answered the spokesman. "He said he was going to put on a dance

that would go down in history, and he wanted to do the decorating

tonight, when there were guards out, and we'd have it in Clanhammer

Hall, because nobody ever goes in there."

"Where is Vench now?" asked Don.

"Inside."

"Inside Clanhammer Hall!" cried Don sharply.

"Yes. He went in early to look the place over, and we were to join him

in there."

Don was taken aback at the news. If there was anything to be learned in

that hall Vench might stumble on it, and he was disappointed to think

that someone beside himself had been in Clanhammer first. Well, there

was just one thing to do and that was to enter the old school himself.

He turned to the waiting cadets.

"You fellows get back to your rooms at once, and do it without being

seen by anyone. I won't report you unless you disobey me. You've been a

lot of silly fools to listen to Vench at all. Why, if you are caught you

will probably be expelled! Have your dance when the colonel returns but

not now. Now get back, before I am compelled to turn in a report of

this."

The seven cadets, glad of the chance to escape from an adventure which

had begun to worry them, slipped away without a word toward the main

hall. Don turned once more to the cellar window, prepared to enter the

dark and forbidding place. But he drew back with a slight start.

The cellar window went up and was secured and a head appeared in the

half light. Cadet Vench scrambled up and out of the window, his uniform

covered with cobwebs and dirt. He looked briefly at Don and would have

walked off, but Don grasped him by the arm.

"Here, Vench," Don called. "Wait a minute. Let me look at your face.

What is the matter?"

He swung the cadet toward him and for a brief instant the other looked

at him with wide eyes. Don almost gasped. The ordinarily brown face of

Cadet Vench was white, his eyes were big and his hands shook. Don

released his hold.

"What did you see in there, Vench?" he asked.

"Nothing," returned the other, dropping his eyes.

"Yes, you did," retorted Don. "Out with it. Let's have it."

"I didn't see anything!" snapped Vench, stepping away from him. "You let

me go, Mercer. I--I want to get away from this place. You keep your

mouth closed about it, too."

He strode away, and Don was strongly tempted to recall him and make him

tell or suffer the consequences. But he was undecided as to what course

to follow and he watched the cadet disappear in the direction of Locke

Hall. Once more Don looked at the hall so near at hand. There was no

sound and he wondered if he should go in or not.

But he did not feel like going in. Vench had seen something in there

that had made him turn white. And for another thing, his patrol time was

up, a thing for which he was not altogether sorry. So with this new

angle to puzzle over Don went back to report his patrol over with and

sought his bed, to wonder and speculate until he fell asleep.

_7. Jim Makes an Enemy_

"The thing to do," said Rhodes, "is to make Vench talk."

It was a few days later, and the cadets were talking things over back of

the boathouse. Rhodes, Jim, Terry and Don were sitting on an overturned

boat discussing the thing in detail. Don had told them of the events

which he had seen, and they were all agreed that Vench had seen

something of importance in Clanhammer Hall.

But Vench would not talk. He blustered and he sneered, but he would not

open his mouth. He began by saying that he had seen nothing, and ended

by saying that he would not tell what he had seen. With that they had to

be content, but they were far from being satisfied.

The period of preliminary training was now over and the boys in the

fourth class were definitely assigned to divisions. Jim was the luckiest

of all, for he was made lieutenant of the cavalry. Don remained in the

infantry and Terry went with the artillery unit. Jim was elated with his

good fortune and declared that he was going to work hard for a

captaincy.

To Jim first fell the office of Officer of the Day. At some time in the

year each cadet served in that capacity. His duties were not complicated

but consisted of the job of making the rounds of the dormitories just

before the lights were put out to see if everything was in order.

Immediately after they were out he had to walk down all halls and see to

it that no cadet was still up. Then he was to turn in his report and

return to his own room.

It was at a quarter after nine when Jim reported to Major Tireson in the

office and received his instructions and his report book. He found that

he had been assigned to Clinton Hall and after receiving his

instructions he went there. It was the practice at the school to put the

Officer of the Day in another hall, so that no excuse would be made for

personal friends if any infraction of the rules occurred. At the same

time that Jim was inspecting Clinton Hall another cadet was inspecting

Locke and another Inslee, in each case the Officer of the Day being from

another hall.

Jim began his duties at once. Coming to the first room in Clinton Hall

he raised his hand and rapped smartly. There was a "Come in" from the

other side of the door and Jim entered. As soon as the cadets in the

room saw that it was the Officer of the Day they put down their books

and rose, saluting as they did so. Jim returned the salute and then

looked keenly around the room, noting the condition of the bed, the

closet, the place of the cadets' hats and the general look of the room.

Everything was in place and Jim placed an OK beside the number of the

room. His duty was to inspect the room and report any irregularities on

the part of the cadets themselves, but unless these irregularities were

very flagrant the cadet officers never did report them.

"Very well, gentlemen," nodded Jim, and left the room. The two cadets

resumed their studying and Jim went to the next room. In each dormitory

room he followed the same procedure. The first floor having been

attended to he went to the second and repeated the process.

He had now come to the last room and he knocked. There was no immediate

answer and he pushed his way in. To his surprise he found that Cadet

Vench was in the room, sitting at the window on the sill, looking out at

the ivy-covered wall of an addition which loomed up close to his window.

It was then that Jim remembered that Vench, who had formerly roomed in

Locke Hall, had been transferred, at his own request, to Clinton. Asked

as to why he had obtained a transfer Vench had replied that the bunch in

Locke made him sick and he wanted to be nearer friends. It was the

boastful little cadet whom Jim was now facing.

Vench turned quickly at his step and his right hand went behind his

back. But he was not quick enough to hide what he was holding. Jim

saluted him and the cadet returned it. Before speaking Jim inspected the

room and then turned once more to Vench.

"Your room is all right, Mr. Vench," reported the Officer of the Day.

"But you yourself must be reported for smoking a cigarette."

"You're not going to report that, Mercer," replied Vench, easily.

"No, I'm not," agreed Jim. "I am going to allow you to report it

yourself, Mr. Vench. In that way you will save yourself a few 'groan

marks.'"

"Groan marks" were demerits, and if enough of them were gathered by a

cadet he was expelled. If a cadet accumulated a few of them he lost

valuable privileges. But Cadet Vench smiled and shook his head.

"I guess we'll just forget all about it, eh, Mercer?" he suggested.

But Jim shook his head calmly. "No we won't, Mr. Vench. Smoking is

absolutely against the rules of the institution. You may enjoy it, and

perhaps some of the other fellows do too, but they don't do it, and if

you see fit to, you'll have to stand what comes to you."

"Don't preach to me, Mercer!" snapped the little cadet.

"I'm not preaching. If you don't go and report, I shall be compelled to

do it for you. So make up your mind at once, please."

Vench's face flushed. "All full of soldier-boy dignity and importance,

aren't you, Mercer? No sense of fair play or honor about you."

"Why, yes, I think that there is," retorted Jim, coolly. "I'm giving you

a chance to report yourself and lighten your punishment. Seems to me

that I couldn't be any fairer than that."

"You could forget it altogether," cried Vench heatedly. "Look here,

Mercer, I'll make it worth your while!"

"In what way?" asked Jim, his eyes narrowing.

"Well, I have a little money that the officers don't know anything

about----"

"That will do!" snapped Jim. "A moment ago you were talking about honor!

How much honor do you think is in a proposition like that?"

Vench took a step forward, his face flaming. "Look here you--you cad! Do

you mean to say that I'm not honorable? I'll have you understand that

some of the noblest blood in old France runs in my veins!"

"That won't help you now," returned Jim. "As far as that goes, I guess

my own blood is pretty good, although I'm not aware that any of it came

from noblemen, unless they happened to be the only kind of noblemen that

count, honest people."

"See here, you!" hissed the enraged cadet. "You only talk like this

because you are the Officer of the Day. I'd be quick to call you out if

you weren't."

"I won't be Officer of the Day tomorrow," said Jim coldly. "If you want

to, you may call me out then, though I doubt if you will do anything as

rash as that. Come, Mr. Vench, make up your mind what to do."

"I'll turn myself in," fairly shouted the little cadet. "And then I'll

seek satisfaction from you, you high and mighty soldier boy!"

"Anything you please," shrugged Jim. "Do not forget to report yourself,

Mr. Vench, for I am going to make a notation of the circumstance, and if

you fail to do it, it will be tough for you."

With that Jim turned on his heel and walked out of the room. He was

angrier than he had allowed Vench to see, for he hated the suggestion of

a bribe and the manner of the cadet had been irritating. Just as he got

out into the hall the lights were snapped out and he had one more duty

to perform. He walked down the halls and saw to it that all doors were

closed and all was quiet and then went back to Locke Hall, where he

related his experience to Terry and Don.

"You did perfectly right," agreed Don.

"I doubt if he'll fight," said Terry. "He likes to make a big noise, but

I don't think he will say another word about it."

But Terry was wrong. Cadet Vench reported his break in the rules and

received fifty demerits. Two hundred demerits was sufficient to keep a

cadet out of all activities and two hundred and fifty was the limit.

Vench lost a few privileges and he was boiling with rage. That afternoon

Cadet Willis, a roommate of Vench's, came into the room where Don and

Jim were preparing to go out for track.

"May I speak to you a moment, Mr. Mercer?" he asked Don.

"Certainly, Mr. Willis," nodded Don, and followed him out into the hall.

Terry looked at Jim and whistled.

"Ah, ha!" said the red-headed boy. "War is declared!"

When Don came back he grinned at Jim. "Well, you're in for it, kid," he

said. "Cadet Willis brought to me, your second, a formal declaration of

war. If you aren't scared to death you will kindly meet Mr. Vench in

physical combat back of the gym at eight o'clock this evening!"

"Well," grinned Jim. "I'm scared to death, all right, but I'll meet him

just the same. I'll be so nervous I won't be able to run or study all

afternoon!"

The news of Vench's challenge spread like wildfire, and just before

eight o'clock a group of the cadets, constantly increasing in number,

assembled back of the gym. The spot selected was well fitted for the

fight, as it was just back of a large window from which a stream of

light came, and well out of sight of the main school building. Jim and

his friends reached the place at eight and Jim immediately peeled off

his shirt and moved his arms about to limber them up. Vench had not as

yet appeared, and when five minutes passed by with no sign of him the

cadets began to murmur things decidedly not complimentary to the absent

one.

"Here comes Willis," spoke up a cadet, at last. "But he is alone."

Willis, with a worried look on his face, approached the group, and

ignoring the questions put to him, spoke to Don.

"May I have a word with you, Mercer?" he asked.

He took Don aside and they talked in low tones for a moment, after which

Willis hurried off and Don walked slowly back to the group. There was a

faint smile on his face, and he handed Jim his shirt.

"Put your shirt on, Jim," he said. Turning to the cadets he said, "Boys,

there has been a mistake made. When Mr. Vench asked Mr. Willis to be his

second Mr. Willis presumed it was to be a fist fight. It was not until a

few minutes ago that Mr. Willis, to his vast astonishment, found out

that Mr. Vench is very blood-thirsty. Mr. Vench claims that my brother

insulted his honor and that nothing less than blood would satisfy him.

He was coming out here with two dueling swords, obtained from the museum

upstairs, and it took Mr. Willis and some friends several minutes to

disarm him and take the weapons away. Under the circumstances, there

will be no fight, I guess!"

There was a moment of amazed silence and then the cadets broke loose in

excited talk. Mr. Vench was treated to a verbal overhauling that left

nothing to be desired, and many a scornful laugh was uttered as the

cadets went back to their rooms. A dozen plans to annoy and remind the

hot-headed cadet were immediately made up.

"Nothing but blood would satisfy him, eh?" laughed Terry when they were

back in their rooms. "Well, if he had run up against Jim's fist he would

have been satisfied, all right."

Jim dismissed the whole thing and thought no more of the little cadet.

But from that time on the noisy newcomer was in misery. Everywhere he

went he saw some evidence of his rashness and foolishness. Paper swords

were hung on his door, gentlemen in grotesque positions were sketched on

the blackboards, engaged in dueling, and whenever he was around some

pair of cadets were sure to fence with rulers or whatever they had

handiest. He was angry and unhappy, but knowing as he did that he had

made a sorry spectacle out of himself he kept quiet except when he was

alone. He had lost the friendship of even his roommate, who felt his own

position ridiculous, and the loud cadet was silenced for the time being.

"It's all the doings of that Mercer bunch," he told a friend savagely.

"But I'm just waiting for my chance. Wait until it comes, and I'll make

Jim Mercer and his gang suffer for this. Just wait until it comes,

that's all!"

_8. The Fall Offensive_

One of the events most eagerly awaited by the cadets each year was the

fall military offensive. It was designed to give the cadets, especially

the newer ones, some taste of actual military work. Rhodes explained it

to the friends.

"The idea is to teach unity of action between the different branches of

the service," the senior said. "First of all, the infantry takes up its

position with the artillery under cover just back of it and waits there

until the actual shelling begins. The cavalry, dismounted, is stationed

somewhere near to support the infantry. After the shelling of a hill--we

generally shell an old hill which we call Hill 31--the infantry advances

close behind the fire of the artillery, meanwhile getting a message

through somehow to the cavalry to dismount and fall in on the wings. I

don't know how the message will be sent this year. Sometimes they send

it through by telephones that the engineers put up and sometimes they

send a runner through the hill just before the bombardment or after it.

When we take up the active campaign we don't use these uniforms, of

course. We get into the regular khaki and go at it right. I guess we'll

get to it soon."

It was a week later when Major Tireson issued orders that the fall

offensive was to take place. The cadets were overjoyed at the prospect,

for it meant three days of vacation. It was the custom then to camp out

one day, drill on the second, and attack the imaginary enemy on the

morning of the third day, returning home in the evening. To Jim, who was

an officer of the cavalry, instructions were given.

The captain and lieutenants of the infantry, artillery and cavalry were

present at the time instructions were given. There was no captain of the

cavalry, for the last captain had graduated, and Major Tireson was

undecided as to whether to make Jim or a cadet named Thompson captain.

Consequently, both of them were lieutenants and equals. The major

explained that the infantry would wait until the shelling was over and

then advance on the hill. The artillery officers were instructed in the

method and time, and then Major Tireson turned to the cavalry

lieutenants.

"You understand, boys, how you are to advance dismounted when the word

comes to you?" he asked, and the lieutenants nodded. "Very well,"

continued Major Tireson. "Mercer, you are to have charge of the left

wing of the cavalry and are to take up a position on the east side of

Hill 31. Thompson, you will take your place on the west side of the

hill, on the flank of the infantry, and you will send a man over Hill 31

as soon as the firing has been stopped. The artillery fire will be ended

all in one burst, there will be no scattering shots, and it will be

perfectly safe to send your man over the hill to inform Lieutenant

Mercer to join the left wing of the infantry. We are going to act as

though our telephone lines were down at the time, and the message is to

be delivered by word of mouth. You both understand plainly?"

Both cavalry lieutenants replied that they did understand and after

looking over maps they went back to rooms to prepare. Official word was

passed around the school and campaign uniforms were issued, together

with "tin hats," trench tools and all the necessary implements. The

artillery was brought out, horses prepared, and one brilliant morning

late in October the three divisions marched away to the practice

warfare.

Hill 31 was twelve miles from Woodcrest and in wild country, where the

danger of running across anyone was slight. The infantry marched first,

the artillery rumbling back of them, and in the rear, the cavalry unit

followed leisurely. The spirits of the cadets were raised by the clear

and sparkling air and the bright sunshine, and they marched with a

swing. Terry, who was riding a gun carriage, laughed at Don when they

all halted for a brief rest.

"Seems like Jim and I have the cream of the outfit," he grinned. "I ride

a gun carriage and Jim rides a fine horse. Little old Donny walks along

on his feet."

"I don't mind," retorted Don. "You and Jim will grow old and fat, while

I will still be in my prime, due to the fact that I used my feet. When

you two are in your wheelchairs, I'll come around and see you."

Terry laughed. "That's how you talk, but wouldn't you just jump at the

chance to ride!"

In the afternoon they reached a long, dusty plain, with Hill 31 before

them. Here the cadets made camp. A small city of tents shot up like

magic, all hands helping. Four rows of orderly tents stood erected

before nightfall, and then there was a drill and review. After that the

cadets were free to do as they wished, although no one was permitted to

go far afield.

In the evening there were races and wrestling and soon after supper taps

sounded. The night was cold and clear, guards patrolled the camp, and

the boys were glad to get a good night's sleep. At six in the morning,

they were roused from bed by the blare of the bugle and a busy day

began.

There was inspection and roll call, breakfast, drill, and a long march

for all divisions. In the afternoon the cavalry drilled on horses, the

artillery cadets went through a rigid examination in sighting and range

finding, and the ever busy infantry once more drilled. Just before they

went to bed that night Major Tireson summoned all officers into his tent

and gave final instructions for the shelling and advance on the

following morning.

"But I have changed one phase of my plans," he added, turning to the two

cavalry lieutenants. "I have decided, Lieutenant Thompson, that you will

not send a man over the hill at any time. We will use the telephone

connection, and you are to call Lieutenant Mercer on the phone and tell

him when to join the flank of the infantry in the advance. The reason

for informing him is so that you will both form the junction with the

infantry at precisely the same time. From your position you can see the

infantry advance, which Lieutenant Mercer cannot do, and so it will be

your duty to send him word to dismount and move up. Is that all clear?"

Both lieutenants agreed that it was and went back to their tents. Taps

sounded and the young soldiers literally fell into bed and slept the

sleep of exhaustion. In the morning they got up without enthusiasm, but

as soon as they had washed in cold water and become wide awake they

snapped into action with vigor.

Events moved rapidly after breakfast. The infantry swung into position,

and with bayonets fixed as though for a charge, took up a position

behind a low ridge in the field. The artillery rumbled into position and

the cavalry left the camp.

Just before the cavalry left Jim noted that Lieutenant Thompson was not

at the head of the second division. While he was wondering what the

trouble was the major came up and looked over the troops. He addressed a

second lieutenant named Stillman.

"Lieutenant Stillman," asked the major, "where is Lieutenant Thompson?"

"He was taken ill, sir," reported Stillman. "It looks very much as

though he will not be able to take the field today."

The major frowned. "Ill, eh?" He thought for a moment. "Lieutenant

Stillman, do you understand the plans for the advance this morning?"

"Why, I believe so, sir," said the second lieutenant. "Lieutenant

Thompson told me all of the plans the day before yesterday."

"Very well," nodded the major, turning away. "You are in charge of the

west wing, Lieutenant Stillman. Kindly carry out the plans to the best

of your ability."

He turned away, leaving Stillman flushed with pleasure at the unexpected

responsibility and the cavalry moved forward, Stillman's division toward

the west side of the hill and Jim's toward the east side. There was a

doubt in Jim's mind that he could not shake off.

"Oh, well," he murmured, as they galloped off. "I suppose Stillman is

capable enough. I feel a little more confidence in Thompson, though."

Jim thoroughly enjoyed the gallop across the fields, and when they had

gained their position they stopped and waited, facing Hill 31. While

they waited a unit of engineers, working in haste, strung a line from

nearby trees to the place where Jim's cavalry outfit was waiting. This

telephone line was in some places hidden in the grass and under the dirt

and in some places up in the air. It communicated with the infantry

base, the artillery headquarters, and went around in a looping circle

and connected Jim with Stillman on the other side of the hill. It was

over this line that the order to form a junction with the infantry was

to be given.

Most of the waiting cavalrymen were looking at their watches, on the

alert for the beginning of the artillery bombardment. It was scheduled

to begin at exactly ten-thirty, and on the minute it began. The first

gun roared out and a cloud of dust rose from Hill 31. The cavalry horses

started and moved restlessly.

A regular series of detonations now shook the ground and jets of dust

flew about the old hill. After the first furious discharge the firing

abruptly ceased, to prepare a brief breathing space for a second

discharge. This was a change in Major Tireson's original policy. He had

given the original order to have one bombardment and then to cease

firing, but the order had been changed and two distinct shellings had

been ordered. After a minute of silence the second period of firing

began, and this time it was more scattered and not so furious. The

cavalry unit waited quietly.

"In just about five minutes we'll be on the march," thought Jim, calming

his restless black horse.

At that moment the telephone box at his feet emitted a buzzing sound.

Somebody was calling for him, and with a frown Jim swung down from the

horse.

"Now how in the world am I going to hear anything with that firing going

on?" he grumbled. "And I wonder who can be calling me? I'm not supposed

to receive any message now. Whoever it is certainly wants me in a hurry,

judging by the way he is buzzing."

_9. Under Fire_

Jim picked up the receiver of the telephone and spoke into it, holding

the earpiece pressed close to his head. "Hello," he shouted above the

din of the artillery fire. "Cavalry unit, Lieutenant Mercer speaking."

Somewhat faintly the answer came to him over the wire. "Mercer, this is

Stillman calling. What in the world is happening? Why did they resume

their firing?"

"That's all right, Stillman," returned Jim, thinking the new officer did

not fully understand. "That was the major's orders, two bombardments,

and after that you are to call me and tell me when to join the

infantry."

"But don't you understand, man?" called Stillman, frantically. "I sent a

man over the hill when the fire stopped!"

"What!" roared Jim.

"Certainly. Lieutenant Thompson told me the day before yesterday that a

man was to be sent over the hill the minute the firing ceased. I sent

Cadet Vench over the hill and he must be right in the thick of it now!"

For a moment Jim's mind reeled. In a flash the whole tragic situation

came to him. Stillman had the old orders, and Thompson had not given him

the changed orders, probably because he had not even seen the second

Lieutenant. The major had made but a casual inquiry as to whether

Stillman knew his orders correctly, and because of the carelessness a

cadet had been sent over that hill, perhaps to his death. Jim found his

mouth dry and everything seemed to fade from before his eyes. He snapped

an order over the telephone line.

"Get word to the artillery to cease firing!" he cried. And with that he

jumped to his feet and clutched at the bridle of his horse, turning to

his own second lieutenant.

"Townley," he ordered, "you are in charge until I get back. Foster, ride

back to the artillery base and tell them to cease firing at once! Ride

like mad, for Cadet Vench is on that hill that they are bombarding!"

Foster launched forward like a shot and thundered out onto the road.

With a single leap Jim was in his saddle and had jerked his horse's head

around in the direction of Hill 31. Before anyone could stop him he was

off in a mad gallop toward the shell-torn mound.

The shells were still falling raggedly on the top of the hill when his

horse began to climb, and he hoped fervently that the bombardment would

cease any moment. He could not see why it should not, for Stillman was

to call the artillery on the phone at once, and Jim had even taken the

precaution to send a cavalryman back in the remote case that the

telephone line would not work. He realized, as his horse flew with sure

feet up the sloping sides of the heap of earth, that he was risking his

life and that of his horse, but he meant to go through with it. The

firing would cease any minute, and the cadet might be injured, in which

case he would have to be rushed to the emergency sick bay just back of

the infantry base. In the flurry of the last few moments he had

forgotten that it was Vench who was out there, but now he remembered it

perfectly.

Jim felt the sweat break out on his forehead as they approached the

territory in which the shells were falling. Hope suggested that Vench

might have been on the edge of the hill when the firing began and that

he might have rolled down and out of danger. He might even be back with

the other wing of cavalry at the time, and under the circumstances it

was not probable that Stillman would call a halt on the artillery fire.

A new thought raced through Jim's mind. If Vench had indeed returned

uninjured and Stillman had withheld the order to cease firing, he was

simply running his own head into grave danger which would do no one any

good and which would bring down the major's wrath upon him. But Jim felt

that he had done the right thing and he kept on.

A shell bursting a few yards before him threw dirt up in his face and

caused his horse to snort and rear, and Jim realized then that he was

actually under fire. It was with an instinctive roll that he threw

himself from the animal and looked dazedly around. The hill, now

pit-marked from the fire, was otherwise bare, except for one growth of

dead trees and bushes toward the middle, and it was there that Jim

sighted Vench. The cadet was lying face downward, with one hand held

over his head, motionless, and Jim, forgetting his own peril, ran

forward, calling his name. The terrified horse rushed madly down the

other side of the hill.

Vench did not answer Jim's call and the cadet lieutenant ran toward him.

Just as he reached the inert figure a shell exploded back of him, and a

short thick piece of wood flew through the air, striking Jim on the

head. He pitched to the ground, over Vench's outstretched legs.

Although Jim did not know it, that was the last shot. The artillery fire

died away abruptly. The telephone message had not gotten through to the

artillery, due to bad connections in the stringing of the wires, but

Cadet Foster had plunged like lightning into the artillery base camp. He

shouted an order to the captain and then explained matters swiftly. With

a look of horror the artillery officer signalled frantically from gun to

gun and the fire stopped with a final crash.

The infantry, the unit that the major was with, prepared to move up,

thinking that the artillery had ceased to fire according to schedule,

although the major knew that the firing time was still two minutes

short. Foster rode to him, saluted and explained that Cadet Vench had

started over the hill and that Lieutenant Mercer had followed. Don

started and his heart sank as he heard the report, which was made in the

presence and hearing of all the foot soldiers. The major grew red in the

face.

"What did Lieutenant Stillman mean by sending a man over the hill?" he

roared. "He had strict orders not to do so! By George, I'll hang him for

this!" He turned to his infantry captain, Rhodes. "Captain, accompany me

to the hill. Lieutenant, take charge of the men here and send one of

them for the ambulance. Come, Captain Rhodes."

The major and the young captain rode off furiously and an orderly

hastened to summon the ambulance, which jogged across the uneven fields

a minute later. The artillery unit stood quietly beside their guns, and

the infantry and cavalry did the same. Don was very pale but perfectly

quiet. Lieutenant Sommers looked briefly at the men left in his charge

and then stood at attention, looking straight ahead, satisfied that they

would carry themselves as they should.

The major and Rhodes had now arrived at the foot of the hill and they

spurred rapidly up the incline. The cadets were all in plain sight, that

is, all but the division which Jim had commanded, and the ones who could

see were watching with painful interest. At the top of the hill the two

officers jumped from their horses and hastened to the two cadets who lay

so quietly under the stunted, twisted tree.

"Only stunned, both of them," said Major Tireson after a hasty

examination. "Is the ambulance here?"

"It is, sir," reported Rhodes, pushing back his trench helmet.

The major imperiously signalled the stretcher-bearers to come up and

four men ran to them with stretchers. Both cadets, still unconscious,

were loaded on them. They were both placed in the ambulance and run

quickly back to the field hospital. Don, watching all this from a

distance, felt his throat go dry and his eyes smarted, and although he

had a terrible impulse to break ranks and find out how badly his brother

had been hurt he controlled the impulse and waited until the major and

Rhodes spurred up to them.

"Just stunned, both of them," said the major, loudly, and Don breathed a

prayer of thanksgiving. The major, feeling that something was needed to

break the tension, and wishing to teach them that nothing must halt

military activities at any time, gave the order to advance, and Don felt

a temporary relief in the action which followed.

Although the cadets obeyed every order which was given and everything

was carried out according to orders, the spirit with which the young

soldiers had begun the day was lacking. The closeness with which they

had come to tragedy had shaken them, and their minds were not on the

words of command. After a mock storming of the hill they were marched

back to the encampment, and no sooner were the ranks broken than Don

made a rush for the hospital tent.

Terry was there before him and was sitting at the bedside when Don

entered. Jim grinned up at him weakly and thrust out his hand.

"Hi, kid," he said. "Did I have you worried?"

"You sure did," returned his brother with fervor. "How do you feel,

Jim?"

"Okay now," nodded Jim. "I was just stunned, that is all. Terry was just

a witness to a touching scene."

"What was that?" asked Don curiously.

"Why," explained the artillery cadet, grinning, "Mr. Vench swore eternal

loyalty to Jim!"

"Did Vench make friends with you?" asked Don eagerly.

"Yes," answered Jim. "They took him back to school, because he has a

gash in his head, but before he went he apologized and told me that he

could never be sufficiently grateful to me. I was glad that Terry was

here to save me from total embarrassment."

"Just the same," said Don. "You did a very brave thing, Jim, and I'm

proud of you. You could easily have waited until the bombardment was

over and then have gone up." He looked around and lowered his voice. "I

certainly wouldn't want to be the major, because he is the one to blame.

If he is sensible he won't say a word."

_10. Rebellion_

When the cadets returned to school and routine life was resumed the

young soldiers were loud in their praises of Don and Jim. They admired

the fortitude with which Don had kept quiet and calm when he had learned

of Jim's plight, and they admired Jim's plucky action. And most of them

were surprised at the changed attitude of Cadet Vench.

Up to that time the little cadet had been intensely disliked and he had

few friends. A few of the students who knew him better than the others

called to pay their respects to the injured man and they returned to

tell strange tales of a completely changed Vench. He had lost his air of

superiority and his boastfulness and he led the way in praising his

recent enemy. His injuries were not grave, but he had been badly shaken

and at the advice of the doctor he remained in his room and did his

studying there. The gash in his head healed rapidly.

He told his story several times and the cadets were much interested in

it. He had just reached the top of the hill when the second round of

artillery fire had started and he was scared and bewildered. He had

started to run for the shelter of the trees, hoping that the fire would

cease long enough to give him a chance to roll backward down the hill.

But as he lay there a stone had hit him and that was the last he had

known until he found himself in the field hospital.

The cadets discussed the carelessness of the major in low tones, and the

general opinion was that he would say nothing concerning it all. But in

this they were mistaken. On the evening following their return to

Woodcrest a large group was standing on the campus in the light of Locke

Hall when Second Lieutenant Stillman came out of the door and started

toward Inslee Hall, where he roomed. Rhodes noted a look of dejection

and anger on the face of the cadet officer and hailed him.

"Hi there, Stillman," he said. "What's the matter with your face?"

"You mean the expression of it?" asked Stillman ruefully.

"Why, yes," laughed Rhodes. "Now that I take notice of it, the face

itself is all right. But the look that is on it at present doesn't draw

any favorable comment."

"I've had a mean time in there," said Stillman, jerking his thumb over

his shoulder in the direction of the main hall. "Major Tireson called me

down for that affair at the hill."

"For sending Vench over?" asked Dallenger, a third class man.

"Yes," nodded Stillman.

"But you didn't take it, did you?" inquired Don.

"Why, yes, I suppose I did. I more or less had to."

"You did not," said Cadet Chipps. "The major asked you if you had

received the orders and you said that you had received them two days

previous. Instead of checking up on you to see if you had the correct

ones he let you go on. It distinctly was not your fault."

"Well, he said it was, and he talked pretty hotly, too, I assure you.

Naturally, I couldn't talk back to the major."

"You certainly could have," retorted Don. "You didn't have to be snappy

about it, but as long as you were in the right you should have stood

firm."

"Maybe," shrugged Stillman, moving away. "But that's easier said than

done."

Talk concerning the major became more pointed and it is probable that

some of it reached his ears. At any rate, on that very night, as Don,

Jim and Terry were studying in their room there came a knock on the door

and Jim bade the knocker enter. The door opened to admit the major and

all three boys rose quickly and saluted. The major returned the salute

shortly and faced Jim.

"Mr. Mercer," he said. "I want to take this opportunity to speak to you.

Do you feel well enough to talk?"

"Yes, sir," answered Jim wonderingly.

"I just want to tell you that I did not approve of your rash act at Hill

31," said the major, excitement growing on him. "I understand that some

of the cadets think you quite a hero and that in consequence you may

become heir to a swelled head. I personally do not think that you did

anything commendable, and you greatly endangered me by your foolishness.

If anything had happened to you I would have been blamed. In the future

you will be kind enough to mind your own business and stick to orders.

You will perhaps recall that you had no orders to make any melodramatic

dash up the hill in the face of the artillery fire. Do you understand?"

"I do," said Jim, his eyes flashing. "But I do not need orders to make

me try to help someone out of difficulty, sir!"

"That will do," snapped the major. "You will find out that this is a

military school and not a place where you can do as you like. I will

place twenty-five demerits beside your name for what you did that day."

"Very well, sir," said Jim, calmly.

"Wait a minute, Major Tireson," said Don, with equal quietness, but with

a determined look in the set of his jaw. "You will do nothing of the

kind!"

The major's eyes bulged. "Silence, sir! How dare you speak to me when I

am not even addressing you?"

"I repeat what I said," returned Don, coolly. "You will place no demerit

marks against Jim's name. We both expect to graduate from here with

clean records and we will permit no marks to be placed against us unless

we knowingly break the rules. Jim didn't do that and so you will not do

what you said you will do!"

"Mercer," snarled the major. "I will order you under arrest!"

"You may do what you like," retorted Don. "But it will do you no good.

Every cadet in this school knows that what happened is your fault, Major

Tireson, and not anyone else's. Every cadet is blaming Lieutenant

Stillman for having taken demerit marks from you. You yourself know that

you made no effort to check up and find out if the second lieutenant

knew his orders, and under those circumstances Jim will not take any

punishment from you or from anyone else!"

For one moment the temporary headmaster glared at him and then his tone

became cold. "Report yourself under arrest, Mr. Mercer," he commanded.

"Certainly, sir," agreed Don with composure. "Until tomorrow evening,

and if you have not released me by then I shall leave the school for

good!"

"Remain in your room under arrest, Mr. Mercer," repeated the major, and

turning on his heel he went out, banging the door after him.

"Well, what do you know about that!" gasped Terry, sinking down on the

bed.

"I know that I'll follow Don out if he tries to keep him under arrest,"

answered Jim, briefly.

"He won't try it," promised Don, grimly. And a few moments later, when

Chipps and Rhodes came in on a visit, they told him the cadets would

stand back of him.

"In fact," said Rhodes, getting up. "I think I'll spread the word right

now for a general rebellion!"

"Oh, you aren't going that far, are you?" asked Don.

"Absolutely!" said the senior captain. "Major Tireson must be shown

conclusively that he can't pull off a stunt like that and get away with

it. That would be making ninnies out of the whole cadet corps. Jim did

the right thing and we won't stand for treatment of that kind, as long

as the major himself is the guilty one."

The two seniors departed to spread the word and before taps sounded the

cadet body was seething with excitement. A definite plan was formulated

and in the morning it was launched.

The cadets, with the exception of Don, filed into chapel in the morning

and sat quietly down. The services went off as usual and then the major

gave the signal for dismissal. A few fourth class men got up, but the

senior and third class remained seated. Following their example the

second class remained seated also.

The major looked at them in amazement. "I said assembly dismissed,

gentlemen," he said.

There was nothing but silence over the entire hall and the major's eyes

blazed. "What does this mean?"

Rhodes stood in his place and faced him quietly. "I have been delegated

by the cadet corps to say that we will not return either to study or to

drill until Cadet Mercer, of the fourth class, has been released and all

blame for the campaign affair withdrawn from Lieutenant Stillman and

Cadet James Mercer," he stated.

"Oh!" hissed the major, when he had fully comprehended. "A school

rebellion, eh?"

"We hope not, sir," respectfully returned Rhodes. "But if necessary it

will be. The cadet corps has also commissioned me to say that all blame

for the Hill 31 affair is to be laid directly to you, Major Tireson.

Here at Woodcrest we are taught that military service demands absolute

efficiency, especially in the giving and interpreting of orders, and yet

the biggest blunder, and one which might have cost two lives, has been

made by our commanding officer. We feel that any cadet in the ranks,

upon learning that Lieutenant Thompson was ill, would have immediately

seen to it that his appointed successor had the correct orders,

particularly as those orders had been changed. In the hearing of many of

the cadets you were told that Lieutenant Stillman had received orders

that were two days old, and yet you allowed that statement to go

unchallenged. Under the circumstances the cadet corps feels that

punishment of these cadets and the imprisonment of Cadet Mercer is an

insult to our organization and will not permit it to go on!"

"A very pretty speech," sneered the major, livid with rage. "Sit down,

sir!"

"We will now march to the breakfast hall," went on Rhodes, ignoring the

order. "But we will not attend any class or any drill until you have

complied with our request. We also feel that we are being lenient with

you in not asking you to apologize to the cadets you have reprimanded!"

"You sit down!" bellowed the major. "You won't get a mouthful until you

have returned to study and drill! Dictate to me, will you? I'll punish

every one of you and show you how to obey orders quickly!"

"Any tactics such as those," warned the senior, "will be followed by the

worst thing that can possibly happen to the school. Every member will

return to his own home and remain there until Colonel Morrell has

returned or until you back down in your stand." The senior captain

turned his back on the enraged headmaster. "Corps, attention! March as

orderly as possible into the dining room!"

"I'll have the food stopped and you won't get a mouthful!" roared the

major.

"The minute you give such an order you will be put outside the building

and the doors locked against you!" returned Captain Rhodes, quietly.

Turning to the waiting cadets he cried briskly: "Get into action, boys.

Forward march!"

The corps marched impassively into the dining room and took up its place

around the tables. The instructors lingered in the assembly hall for a

moment, waiting for word from the major, but as none came, they joined

the students in the dining room. Taking complete charge of the situation

the senior captain asked a blessing on the food and then the cadets ate

a hearty breakfast.

Rhodes kept his eyes open during the meal, but nothing happened until

the close when an instructor beckoned him to come outside. The senior

left the room and the cadets waited while they finished their coffee.

Rhodes returned after a few minutes and rapped for attention.

"The rebellion is over, gentlemen," he announced. "Major Tireson has

agreed to release Cadet Mercer and to forget the entire affair. We will

now return to our classes and drill in the spirit of the corps, if you

please."

There was a slight feeling of disappointment on the part of the cadet

body, but they went back to routine without murmur. Don was told later

in the morning to go down and get his breakfast and report to his second

call for classes. He did so, and later Rhodes spoke to him briefly.

"Our threat to leave the school was what finally tamed him," the senior

said. "He wailed a bit about my disrespect and insults and so forth, but

finally agreed to hush up the entire matter. You and Jim won't have any

more trouble on that score."

"I guess not," agreed Don. "But I'll bet he won't love the Mercer

brothers from now on!"

One murmur ran through the body of cadets with increasing force. "I wish

that something definite would be done about locating our colonel,"

Lieutenant Sommers expressed it.

_11. Vench Breaks Silence_

For a time things went on as usual at Woodcrest. The major kept to

himself and had almost nothing to do with the cadet corps. He led the

morning services and looked briefly on at drill times, but aside from

that he paid no attention to them. His attitude, the new boys were told,

was directly opposite to that of the colonel, who mixed in with them and

shared their life in a spirit of comradeship. The major was not popular

and his absence was not greatly mourned.

Once or twice strange men came and talked with the major, men who had

the look of police detectives, but evidently nothing new had been

learned of the missing headmaster's whereabouts. The four friends kept a

close watch on their own account and several times passed close to

Clanhammer Hall purposely to see if there was anything to be learned.

But they did not find out anything until Cadet Vench broke his long

silence.

The little cadet was growing more and more popular with the corps and

was himself astonished at the change in his own life. He had never

before realized that to be respected and liked meant everything in the

world, and he was slowly learning what it was to have real friends. He

had abandoned his over-wise attitude, was now devoting himself to his

studies, and on the whole was living a vastly improved life. The Mercers

and their own immediate friends helped him all that they could without

being tactless about it, and it was to this circumstance that they owed

the fact that Vench told his story.

He found the four of them back of the boathouse one late afternoon

enjoying the declining sun and discussing sports. They were seated on

the boat runway and the little cadet sat down beside them. They greeted

him genially.

"Well, what's on your mind, kid?" said Terry.

"I want to tell you guys something," returned Vench.

"Fire away," invited Don.

"I want to tell you what I saw in Clanhammer Hall that night!" said

Vench, unexpectedly.

They sat up in genuine interest. "I wish you would," said Rhodes. "When

you get through we'll tell you why we are so anxious to know. Perhaps

you can help us more than you realize."

"I hope I can," returned Vench, looking around to see that no one was

within earshot. "Well, listen, here is the story. As you know, I said I

was going to put on a dance that would make history in this school. We

were going to start fixing the place up that night when that business

came up in the library, the slashing of the picture and all that. We

knew that there would be guards around the school and that it would be

even harder to try a stunt like that, but I was determined to put it

over, so I went ahead and made plans. And my biggest plan was to have it

in Clanhammer Hall.

"At first I had planned to have it in the gym, the usual way, you know.

But just about then I got the idea that it would add to the romance or

thrill or whatever you want to call it by having it in Clanhammer Hall.

Some of the fellows told me that it was strictly against the rules to go

into that place, it was a sort of mysterious shrine, they said, but that

made me all the more anxious to have it there. So we planned it that way

and I asked if anybody knew anything about the outlay of the old place.

No one did, so I decided to go in myself and look it over.

"Don was patrolling up and down when I slipped out of the side door and

I waited until he got out of sight down along the lake front. Then I

sneaked to the back of the old building and pried open a cellar window.

I dropped down into the place and looked around--I had a flashlight with

me--and I saw that it was an ordinary basement with old ash cans and a

big furnace and coal bins, and whatever else goes to make up a basement.

After a couple of minutes I found the stairs and went up to the top,

where I didn't have any trouble breaking open the door and getting into

the hall. I flashed the light into a room or two downstairs, one an old

office and one a classroom that was mighty small, and I decided that

upstairs would be the better place to go. We'd be safer, I thought, and

so I went up the stairs to the second floor. The thing that puzzled me

was this, I smelled cooking in that old place!"

"What!" cried the others, in a breath.

"Yes, real cooking, something with plenty of grease in it. I don't know

just what it was," said Vench.

"Well, I'll be darned!" gasped Terry. "I saw evidence of the same thing.

Somebody is making a regular hotel of that place!"

"I had half a notion to go down and investigate," continued Vench. "But

I thought I'd take a look around the upstairs before I did. I thought I

had a lot of courage to go into the place alone to begin with, but when

I got to the upper floor I felt my courage ooze away. One look, I

thought, and then I'd go down again and come back with the fellows.

There was a small room right off of the staircase and I walked in there.

Once inside I turned on the flash, and found to my dismay that it was

going out. But in the feeble light that came from it I could see dimly

around the room, which seemed to be a small study, with a faded carpet,

a desk and a couple of chairs. There was just one small window in that

room, rather high up, and as I stood there looking around my light went

out.

"I snapped it a couple of times to see if it would go on again, but

nothing happened. The room was pitch black, and I was wondering how the

devil I was going to get back to the cellar window. At the time I was

bending over the useless flashlight, and then I felt the hair on my head

begin to crinkle up and pull. There was a faint light coming from

somewhere, and a minute later I saw a beam of yellow light in the hall.

It was the light of a candle, and it was coming down the hall toward the

room I was in. Although my legs seemed stiff as boards I did manage to

somehow drop down behind that desk and watch.

"After what seemed an age someone came to the door. The light had been

moving toward me all the time, but I hadn't heard a sound. Now a candle

in a tin holder was thrust around the edge of the door and a minute

later an old man looked into the room. His face was long, his hair all

straggly and his eyes were narrow and close together!"

"The same man I saw!" breathed Terry.

"He looked around the room but did not come in. I guess he was only

suspicious, for after a little while he went away, as noiselessly as he

had come. He went up to the third floor, judging by the way the light

went, and I waited until I was sure he had gone before I left that room.

And I assure you I left it in a hurry. I found the stairs all right and

got to the cellar, where I got another scare when I saw Don looking in

the window. That's what I saw in Clanhammer Hall, and of course we

didn't have our dance."

"So that's what you saw there!" exclaimed Jim, drawing a deep breath.

"Yes, and I've been puzzled over it ever since. I kept it to myself and

no one else knows it. Now let's hear what you have to tell me."

Terry told his part and the others filled in. Vench was impressed.

"Something very wrong with that old school," he commented.

"Do you think we ought to tell Major Tireson?" asked Don, of Rhodes. The

senior thought it over and then shook his head.

"No, I don't," he said. "That might clear things up and then again it

might not. What I do think is this, we ought to go through Clanhammer

Hall some day ourselves!"

"But not at night!" objected Jim.

"No, that would be foolish. In the first place, we wouldn't be able to

see anything, and in the second place I am no more keen to prowl around

there after dark than you are. We'll simply break in some afternoon,

perhaps tomorrow, and look around ourselves. If we are caught there we

can simply tell our story and say that we wanted to investigate. They

can't do much to us for that."

"No, I don't think they can. Do you want to go through tomorrow

afternoon?" asked Don.

After some more talk they all agreed to break into Clanhammer Hall on

the following afternoon and then they prepared for supper. The evening

passed as usual and they went to bed. How long they had been asleep they

did not know, but they were aroused by the furious ringing of the fire

gong. With one accord they leaped from their beds.

"Now what is going on?" began Jim, but Terry, who had raced to the

window, interrupted him.

"It's a sure enough fire this time," he called. "And, by George, it's

Clanhammer Hall!"

They rushed to the window. One corner of the old school building could

be seen from there and Terry had spoken the truth. The back of the place

was on fire and the flames could be seen curling up against the sky.

Already the campus was dotted here and there with cadets who had run

out, scantily clothed.

"Come on!" shouted Don, leaping for his clothes. "Let's get out there!

We'll find out something important now!"

In a few minutes the boys were out on the campus and running rapidly

across the wet grass toward the old building. The flames were mounting

higher and they could see that a shed in the back, which was joined to

the main building, was burning briskly. The roof was on fire and there

was no time to be lost.

The major had arrived on the scene and had taken charge. Some of the

cadets ran down to the boathouse and dragged out the fire-fighting

equipment, consisting of a hose reel and some axes. There was a fire

hydrant at the corner of Clinton Hall, and before long a solid stream of

water was playing on the roof of the shed. Some of the cadets had

started to form a bucket brigade, but seeing that the hose would do the

work much more efficiently they stopped and all stood around watching.

Rhodes held the hose and under his direction the fire was speedily put

out.

Don, Jim and Terry watched the old building with interest, hoping to see

someone show themselves at the windows, but there was no sign of life

and soon darkness fell over the landscape. The major, who seemed anxious

about the fire, saw to it that the rear portion of the building was well

soaked before he allowed the cadets to turn off the water. Rhodes

offered to go inside and see if there was any fire inside.

"Never mind, Mr. Rhodes," said the major. "I'll attend to that." He took

out a bunch of keys and went around to the front, where he let himself

in. Some of the cadets, finding it quite cold outside, went back to bed,

but several stayed to see if there were any further developments. In

less than five minutes the major was back with them.

"No fire inside," he announced. "I thank you for your prompt work, boys.

I would have felt very badly indeed if anything had happened to the dear

old school building. You may put the hose reel away."

Some of the cadets put the hose reel away and the major, on the plea

that they would catch cold, ordered the rest of the young soldiers to

their rooms. Rhodes stopped just outside their door and talked in low

tones to Terry and the brothers.

"I'm afraid this puts our projected search off a bit," he said.

"You think it wouldn't be wise to go in there right away?" questioned

Don.

"Yes, that's it. I am afraid the major will keep a pretty close watch on

the place from now on, simply to see that no one does go in there out of

curiosity."

"You noticed that the major had a key, didn't you?" whispered Jim.

"Yes, but that, in itself, isn't so very suspicious. There must be some

sort of key in the office here. But this is the suspicious part, I

wanted to go in with the major. He wouldn't allow me to go. And he never

asked how it got on fire or made any fuss about it. Now I'm more than

ever glad that we didn't take our story to him."

Before any more could be said Captain Chalmers appeared in the hall.

"All in bed, boys," said the instructor pleasantly, and Rhodes hurried

off to his own room.

_12. The Paper Chase_

One of the oldest sports at Woodcrest was the game of hare and hounds,

paper chase, the boys called it. It was the custom of those interested

to divide into two groups, one the hares and the other the hounds. The

hares were provided with canvas bags which they filled full of paper,

and they were given an hour's start of the hounds. The hares dropped the

paper as they ran through the woods, thus providing a definite trail for

the hounds to follow. The game generally took all day, and the hares

were supposed to arrive back at the school before the hounds overtook

them. Each year the rivalry was very keen, and for some years past the

hares had won. Veteran members of the hounds were out for revenge that

year, and the three friends, as members of the track team, were welcomed

to the game with eagerness.

One Tuesday was given over to the game, a Tuesday which happened to be

Election Day and a holiday at Woodcrest, and early in the morning the

two teams met on the edge of the campus down near the woods. There were

about thirty boys willing to play the game, which was strenuous in the

extreme, and they divided up quickly. All had been provided with

sandwiches and the hares had the bags of paper.

Rhodes, Vench, Merton and Chipps were on the side of the hares, with a

dozen other boys, and Don, Jim, Terry, Lieutenant Thompson and others

were running with the hounds. Final instructions were given and the

hares started off for the dark woods.

"See you guys right here at nightfall," called out Chipps, waving to the

hounds as they sallied out.

"Yes, we'll have a fire going to roast you rabbits!" returned Terry, as

the hounds settled down to wait for their time to come.

The hares broke away on a slow run, dropping bits of paper as they went.

If the majority of the hares were captured, the decision went to the

hounds, but if the hares got a majority back in the yard before the

hounds overtook them the victory was theirs. So the hounds waited

impatiently for the word to go. Thompson, who was captain of the hounds,

had to curb their impatience. Some of them wanted to kick a football

around, but the leader put an end to that.

"We've got a long run ahead of us," he warned them. "If we go running

around chasing a football we'll be winded and they'll run circles around

us. Remember, this is our year."

It was a glorious November day and the hounds found great difficulty in

remaining still. Overhead a bright sun shone out of a clear blue sky and

a cool breeze assured them that they would not become exhausted from any

undue heat. The leaves had turned all colors and the lake was a steel

blue. Each young man felt exhilarated and ambition surged high.

When the hour was up Thompson gave the word and the hounds set off at a

loping run. They would be compelled to run faster than the hares, who

had now a fair start over them, but they were planning to travel

steadily and hoped to figure out short-cuts. That was the dangerous part

of it all, for they might decide to leave the trail and cut across a

hill or valley, figuring that the trail led there, and if they were

mistaken valuable time would be lost. The paper trail was easy to

follow, for the hares were together, but later on they would split into

pairs or threes, and then the work would become harder and the body of

hounds would disintegrate. Except on the home stretch, when within a

mile or two of the school, the hares never went singly, but always

travelled in pairs and threes. That meant that the hounds split up into

as many groups and pursued the hares in the same manner.

For about five miles the hounds pursued the hares in one body, and it

was not until noontime that they found out from the trail that the hares

had split. Down in the hollow of a swamp the paper trail went in

different directions, and the hounds stopped to plan their campaign.

"Three of them went this way," said Thompson, pointing toward the east.

"Billings, Barton and I will follow those three. The rest of you fellows

pick up a trail and follow it. Well, we'll be getting on. Don't lag, and

we'll see you at the fire tonight."

The three cadets struck off through the woods on the trail and the other

boys set about finding trails of their own. Terry and some of the others

trotted away to the west on a trail and Don and Jim examined the nearby

bushes. Finally Don straightened up.

"There's a pair running off in this direction," he said, pointing north.

"Let's get underway, Jim."

He and Jim followed the trail, picking it up from pieces of paper that

showed through the underbrush, and they tirelessly followed it for three

miles, without coming across any of the fleeing hares. Shortly past noon

they stopped at a farmhouse and took a drink from a well, sitting down

against the fence to eat. They did not spend much time eating, but as

soon as the meal was over they hurried back to the woods and took up the

trail in earnest.

The chase was leading them into wild country, heavily wooded and broken

by small ranges of hills. Very few houses were to be seen, and so far

they had not noticed anything that would lead them to believe that there

was a town near by. It was not until three o'clock that they came to the

edge of a clearing and saw before them a little country town. A single

spur of the railroad ran through the place, six or seven small frame

houses grouped near the station, and off in the distance they saw the

roofs of some fairly good-looking homes. Yellow, dusty roads wound over

the nearby hills.

"Wonder what place this is?" said Jim.

"I don't know," returned Don. "The hares just skirted the place, judging

by their trail. Let's walk down near the station and see what place it

is."

Jim grinned. "I don't know why such a sleepy-looking place has a

station," he observed. "If the engineer happened to be looking the other

way he wouldn't even notice the town."

They veered off the paper trail and approached the tiny station which

was bathed in the late afternoon sun's glow. Don narrowed his eyes and

read the sign over the structure.

"Spotville Point," he read. "Well, it isn't much more than a point, at

that."

"Spotville Point," mused Jim. "Where have I heard that name before? Oh,

I know!"

"And so do I!" exclaimed Don. "This is the town where Colonel Morrell

got off the train and was never heard of again!"

Forgetting the paper chase in their interest the two brothers walked up

to the little board shack and examined it with interest. It was a

one-story affair with a small platform, a single waiting room and a tiny

office. Through the screen the boys could look across the tracks and see

the station agent inside, bending over a book.

"Don," said Jim, "the Colonel got off at this spot, and he had a good

reason to do so. Maybe we can unearth some clue."

"Maybe," shrugged Don. "But I imagine that the detectives have been over

every foot of the way. However, I'm willing to make a try at it. What do

you suggest?"

"How would it be to talk to the station agent?"

"I don't know. Perhaps he's tired of talking about it already, but we'll

attempt it. Nothing like trying."

The Mercer boys approached the window, which was open, and looked

through the screen. As their shadows fell across the desk the agent

looked up. He was a thin old man in a faded blue uniform.

"Hello," he nodded. "Ticket for where?"

"We're not in the market right now," smiled Don. "We'd just like a

little information. I suppose you know all of the people and houses

around here, don't you?"

"Hope so," said the agent. "Been stationmaster here for ten years."

"Then of course you know them all," agreed Don. "You were working during

the early part of October weren't you?"

"No," was the unexpected reply. "I wasn't. I was sick then, and Tommy

Grady was taking my trick. I came down sick about October fourth and I

just got around to my work again on the first of November."

"Then you were here on the third of October?" questioned Jim, eagerly.

"Sure I was. Why?"

"Perhaps we shouldn't bother you," said Don. "No doubt you have been

questioned by the detectives."

The old man stood up, suspicion showing plainly on his face. He looked

closely at their uniforms.

"Say, what are you boys up to?" he asked. "No detectives didn't ask me

anything. What's your game?"

"This is the only Spotville Point there is in the state, isn't it?"

pressed Don.

"Sure it is. But what----"

"Do you mean to say that detectives haven't been here to see you about

an elderly stout man who got off here on the third of October?" asked

Jim.

"Nobody's been to see me. As soon as I was took sick I went away to

Spartenburgh to get well. They might have been to see Tommy."

"Look here," said Don. "We're cadets from Woodcrest School. On the third

of October our colonel started for the school and for some reason he got

off here at Spotville Point. He was never seen again. Now, you say you

were here on the third, and detectives say they have checked up

thoroughly. How is it that they haven't been to see you?"

"I'll tell you why they ain't!" cried the old man, his eyes suddenly

lighting up. "Me and Tommy has had an argument. He claims he was on here

since October second, and I know doggone well he wasn't! He's tryin' to

get in some extra pay, if you ask me. I know I was here on October

third. Maybe they have been talking to Tommy."

"They must have been," nodded Don quickly. "But do you remember the man

I'm talking about? Surely you must remember everyone who gets off here,

and as that was your last day before you got sick, I should think you'd

surely remember."

"I do remember him!" cried the agent. "A little fat man, yes sir! I

remember him as plain as day! I--Oh, murder!"

He sat down suddenly and stared at the boys in dismay. They looked

blankly back at him.

"What's wrong?" demanded Jim.

Without answering them the agent opened first one drawer in his desk and

then another, searching around in them. At last he brought out a plain

postal card and looked at it.

"Good grief," he groaned. "That little man you're talking about came in

here and wrote out this postal card. He gave it to me to send for him,

but I clean forgot it. I put it in the desk to send off the next day,

and then I didn't come into work the next day. Good grief!"

"Will you let me see it?" asked Don, trembling slightly and reaching

under the screen. The agent passed it to him, seemed to hesitate and was

about to draw it back, but Don, seeing his intention and reading the

sudden thoughts which had surged into the old man's head, drew it to him

by the tips of his fingers. Eagerly he and Jim bent over it. It was

dated October third and the brief message read as follows:

"Dear Merton;

Received a telegram to drop off at Spotville Point to see Morton

Dennings. Perhaps I can come to some agreement with him. Going on to

the school from here.