GREG'S SECRET AND ANOTHER'S
"Are you going to the hop tonight?" asked Holmes, looking up with
gleaming eyes from the smear on the back of his hand.
"No," admitted Anstey.
"Can you keep a secret?
"Yes, suh; suhtinly."
"Then come here at 8.15 to-night."
"What are you talking-----"
"I'm not talking, _now_," retorted Greg with a resolute tone in
his voice. "Like a wise man, I'm going to do some thinking first.
But you call around this evening. It'll be worth your while."
Anstey looked and felt highly mystified. It must be something
both sudden and important to make Greg change his mind so swiftly.
For Cadet Holmes, who, in his home town, had not been exactly
noted for gallantries to the other sex, had, in the yearling class,
acquired the reputation of being a good deal of a "spoonoid."
This is the term applied to a cadet who displays a decided liking
for feminine company.
"I can see that it isn't any use to ask you anything now," went
on Anstey.
"It isn't," Greg returned promptly. "I'm never secretive against
you, Anstey, old man and the only reason I don't talk at once
is that I don't know just what I want to say. But remember---8.15.
By that time I think I shall have solved myself into a highly
talkative goat yearling."
Rap-tap! at the door, and Furlong and Dunstan dropped in.
"Want to tell you what I think about your pitching, old ramrod,"
announced Furlong.
"It's rotten!" glowed Dunstan cheerfully "And your shortstop work,
Holmesy-----"
"What kindergarten nine did you play with last?" insisted Furlong.
"I was just making up my mind not to pitch again this season,"
grinned Cadet Prescott.
"Why not?" Furlong demanded.
"Milesy," laughed Dick, "you should never go out on a kidding
expedition until you're sure you're josh-proof yourself. Do you
think anything less than the coaches and the team captain could
stop me from pitching? But I sorry for Ken, if I'm to supplant
him."
"You needn't be. Kennedy is glad. He hopes to make the cavalry,
and he says he wants to train that wrist for wielding a sabre."
"Can you two near-plebes find time to drop in this evening, at
just 8.15?" demanded Greg.
"Certain idea! What's up, Holmesy?"
"It isn't a feed," declared Greg. "But I think you'd be sorry
afterwards if you failed to come."
"We'll be here," promised Dunstan.
"Then I guess our party will be complete," mumbled the mysterious
Greg.
"Say, Holmesy," nudged Dunstan, "how did you get that smear on
the back of your hand? Do you know, it looks like the famous
one that Cadet Dodge rubbed off with a borrowed handkerchief,
once on a time."
"Does it?" asked Greg innocently. "Be good enough to loan me
your handkerchief, then?"
"Not much!" growled Dunstan, backing away. "The loaning of personal
linen seems on its way to becoming a court-martial offence."
When the visitors had left, Dick turned on his chum, demanding
curiously:
"What's the game for tonight, anyway, Greg?"
"You didn't see how I got this smear on my hand, did you, old
ramrod?"
"No."
"Then I'm not going to tell you at present," replied Greg, going
to his washbowl and pouring in water. "But the way I got it set
me to thinking.
"About what?"
"Well, about the way Bert Dodge got his hand smeared back in the
days of ancient history. And, old ramrod, I believe that following
up the clue may lead to some other discoveries that will possess
a vital interest for you."
"But-----"
"No more at present! That's a special order," affirmed Greg.
"Be good, like the rest, and wait until 8.15 to-night."
At supper, in cadet mess hall, the talk all naturally turned to
the diamond game with Lehigh that afternoon. The Army, at the
outset, had hardly expected to win against that year's Lehigh
nine. When the game was well under way, Army hopes had been still
lower. Now, the talk was all on how Prescott and Holmes had saved
the game to the Army. Even Maitland, without a trace of jealousy,
conceded them most of the credit.
"What has cherubic, spoonoid Holmesy got up his sleeve for 8.15?"
asked Dunstan in an undertone of Anstey.
"I reckon, suh, you'll have to apply for particulars to the Information
and Security Service, suh," replied the Virginian. "To the best
of my belief, suh, the secret is all Mr. Holmes's."
So no more questions were asked. But at 8.15, to the second,
Furlong and Dunstan tapped on the Prescott-Holmes door, and, as
they did so. Anstey turned at the head of the stairs. Punctuality
is one of the cardinal virtues of the soldier; to be a half minute
late is a grave breach of etiquette; to be five minutes late amounts
almost to a crime.
"Now, Holmesy, we want light," insisted Furlong.
"At first blush," returned Greg, "some of you may not like the
job. It is nothing more nor less than a visit to Dodge's room,
while he and Blayton are absent at the hop."
"It is an extreme measure, surely," murmured Dunstan.
Anstey remained silent, waiting for further particulars.
"What I would call to your attention," went on Greg, "is that
my roommate, old ramrod, was nearly bounced out of West Point
for something he never did. I believe, and probably you all do,
that Mr. Dodge played an evil and guilty part in what became nearly
a tragedy."
"I wouldn't put anything mean beyond Dodge," replied Furlong.
"Now, I believe I can take you to Dodge's room. Both he and Brayton
are absent at the hop. Brayton has always been a decent fellow,
I don't believe he admires Dodge any too much, but he has to put
up with his roommate. Now, in that room I hope to find evidence
which will prove that Dodge is not fit to be a member the corps
of United States Military Academy cadets. Will you come with
me and look for the proof?"
"I suhtinly will, suh," replied the Virginian promptly.
"If Anstey will go on a job like that," muttered Dunstan, "then
I guess it's a proper undertaking for gentlemen."
"I thank you, suh," nodded the Virginian gravely.
"Then come along, all hands," begged Greg. "If we find anything
of the sort that I expect to, then there will be witnesses enough
to prove the find to the satisfaction of the class and of the
corps."
Feeling like so many conspirators, this committee of five moved
along to Dodge's room. Greg went a little ahead and tapped.
Had Dodge been there it would not have interfered seriously with
his plans. But there was no answer, so Holmes pushed open the
door, turning the gas half on and lighting it.
"This afternoon," declared Greg, "I dropped a stub of a pencil
in our room. It fell on the bricks of the floor of the fireplace,
and rolled into the space between two of the bricks. In getting
that pencil out I got on the back of my hand the smear that you
all saw.
"Fellows, I've been thinking for weeks and months about that smear
on the back of Mr. Dodge's hand. When I saw the one on the back
of my own hand it occurred to me at once how Mr. Dodge might have
got that black spot on his hand. It came over me, all in a flash.
I knew that Brayton and Mr. Dodge would be out of the way this
evening at the hop. Dodge has a hiding place somewhere in this
room. From the past history of the Academy we know that favorite
hiding places have always been under the bricks of the fireplaces.
For use in the winter time the hiding place must be in the outer
edge of the brick flooring, close up to where it joins the boards.
In such a hiding place the fire wouldn't harm the hidden objects.
Now, some of you might help me to see what we can find."
Anstey, with a gravely judicial air, knelt beside Holmes. Together
they tapped back and forth over the bricks with rulers taken from
the study tables.
"This is the brick that hides the place, I reckon, suh," announced
the Virginian rather deliberately.
"Let's pry it up, then," suggested Greg.
But the brick resisted rather strenuous efforts.
"That's odd, in itself," muttered Holmes. "Almost of the bricks in
these fireplaces come up as easily as a naval apprentice's dinner.
Anse, we've got to work at this brick until we have loose. It
surely hides something."
"We mustn't damage either the wooden or brick flooring," warned
Furlong. "If we did find anything, after all, think of the row
Dodge could raise over the vandalism in his room."
So the time slipped by, faster than any of them knew. But these
five cadets, now satisfied that the obdurate brick really did
hide a secret toiled on with no thought of surrender.
At last they struck the combination. The brick back of the one
that so resisted their efforts was finally pried up, after a good
deal of effort. This opening laid bare a neat but powerful spring.
Had they had, at the outset, the whole secret of this spring,
they could have raised the resisting brick in a second's time.
"Get it up---must have a look!" cried Prescott hoarsely.
It was Greg who raised the brick that had resisted their efforts
for so long. Underneath Cadet Holmes found a collection of things
that chained the attention of all, as each took eager looks in
turn.
"Going to put the stuff back, for the present?" asked Anstey,
with an odd quiver in his voice The honorable Virginian was upset
by what he had seen.
"Not never!" retorted Greg with ungrammatical emphasis. "It won't
be just the thing for old ramrod and myself to have it, either.
Milesy, you and Dunstan take it along with you. Now, old ramrod,
just what had we better do?"
"I don't see anything for it but to root out again after taps and
the subdivision inspector's visit tonight," muttered Dick, who
was alternately pale and flushed over the discovery, and all that
it meant. "Gentlemen, will you come softly to my room fifteen
minutes after the sub-division inspector's official visit at taps?"
Greg and Anstey restored the bricked flooring of the fireplace
so that nothing indicated the late search.
Then, Dunstan and Furlong carrying away the discovered stuff,
the five prowlers turned out the gas and separated.