THE "COMMITTEE ON CLASS HONOR"
At a few minutes after eleven, that same April night, five cadets
fully dressed stole down the corridor, and the leader laid a hand
on Dodge's doorknob.
In another moment they had stepped inside and their arrival awakened
Cadet Brayton.
"Plebes' quarters next floor up, brothers," called Brayton in
drowsy good nature.
"I'm sorry to say, Brayton, we're on the right floor, and in the
right room," responded Dunstan. "But this visit won't bother you!"
The noise of voices awoke Bert Dodge with start. He awoke with
a snort, then sat bolt upright, peering in the dark.
"Wh---who's there?" he demanded hoarsely.
"A committee on class honor, Mr. Dodge," replied Furlong, while
Anstey added, with ironic politeness:
"Don't be alahmed, suh. We do not believe you to be possessed,
suh, of any of the commodity of which we are in search."
"Brayton" asked Greg, "will you be good enough to slip into your
bathrobe and hang your blankets over the window? Then we can
have some light. That's one thing we're going to need," he added
significantly.
"Don't you do it, Bray," broke in Dodge stiffly. "As for you
fellows, the best thing you can all do is to go back to your cradles.
Bray and I want to sleep the night through. And you've no business
here, anyway."
"I'm afraid you've missed the point, suh?" replied Anstey with
bored patience. "That is exactly why we're here, suh---because
we have business here."
Brayton had slipped into his bathrobe and was now crossing the
room with blankets on one arm.
"Chase 'em out, Bray; don't hang any blankets for them to run
a light behind," begged Dodge.
"I'm afraid I'd better," murmured Brayton, as he stood on a chair
and reached up to put the blankets in place. Didn't you hear
the announcement that this is a committee of honor? The class
has a right to send one to any man, and Prescott, the class president,
is here. There, those blankets will hold and shut in all light.
Turn on the gas, Holmesy, if you will."
"You'd better get into robe and slippers, too, Mr. Dodge," hinted
Dunstan strongly. "Our business is with you, and I think you'll
feel more at ease on your feet."
"What is all this nonsense about, anyway growled Dodge, as he
slipped out of bed and wrapped himself in his dressing gown.
"That's what we'll ask you to explain," retorted Greg. "But let
us go about this in a regular manner. In the first place, Brayton,
please understand that you are not being investigated. It is
Mr. Dodge who is under suspicion."
"Yes; under fine suspicion!" snarled Dodge. "You mean I'm to
be the victim of a plot hatched by my two old enemies back in
the home town."
But Greg, ignoring him, turned to his chum.
"Dick, old ramrod, as you're the aggrieved one, I don't suppose
you can exactly act as class president in this case. But you
can designate some other member of the class to act in your place."
"Then I'll name Mr. Anstey," replied Dick. "I believe he will
be satisfactory to everyone."
"Not to me!" snapped Bert Dodge, his uneasy gaze roving from one
face to another. "The class president can't name his own substitute."
"Silence!" commanded Brayton, turning on his roommate. "Of course
the class president can delegate his duties, temporarily, to another."
"Take this matter in charge, Mr. Anstey," begged Dick, turning
to the Virginian.
"Mr. Dodge," continued the Virginian, "be good enough, suh, to
pay good heed to what I have to say. That will be necessary,
in fairness to yourself, suh. I'll begin at the beginning."
Anstey began with the handkerchief-borrowing episode in barracks
area. He dwelt upon the accusation against Cadet Prescott, the
court-martial, and the further fact that even the verdict of acquittal
had not, at first, been fully accepted by all members of the corps
of cadets clearing Dick of the fearful suspicion against his honor.
"What has all this to do with me?" snarled Dodge. "Is Prescott
trying to revive his old and infamous hints against me?
"Wait a moment, Mr. Dodge," continued Anstey patiently. "Now
will now move along to the drill in the riding hall yesterday
afternoon."
Anstey then described the bared cuff that Prescott had seen on
Dodge's left wrist.
"That's a lie," rasped out Dodge.
But Anstey heeded him not; Prescott merely smiled. But the sight
of that smile maddened Dodge, who sprang up, crying:
"Yes! You think you have it all cooked up against me, Dick Prescott!
But you'll find that truth and right will win."
Dick did not answer, but Anstey, looking impressively at the culprit,
declared:
"Mr. Dodge, tonight, while you were away, we pried up that brick!"
Every vestige of color fled from Bert's face. He seemed about
to fall, but he clutched at the chair back and remained standing.
"Of course, Mr. Dodge, you know what we found there. Brayton,
you don't so you will interested in seeing the things. Milesy,
be good enough to spread the collection on that table. Here, you
see, first of all, is the cuff of yesterday. Even the writing,
in India ink, remains on it. And here are reddish stains, made
by the impact of that cuff with the tan-bark of the riding hall.
Here are slips of paper on which the main features of the hardest
math. problems of each day have been noted down, ready for writing
on a cuff. Here is the water-proof ink and the pen with which
the writing on the cuff was done. And here are some other slips
of paper, evidently older, on which other problems have been written
out more fully. These older slips of paper contain problems of
last November and early December---the time when Prescott was
in his deep trouble. Now, these older slips are of paper just
like the piece that fell from the handkerchief that Prescott took
out of his blouse on that tragic day. Somewhere in the files
the authorities have that slip that figured in the charges at
Prescott's trial by general court-martial. I imagine, on comparison,
that slip will be found to be on paper identical with these slips
containing older problems. And you will note that these older
slips are written on with a typewriting machine, with crude figures
drawn in, just as in the case of the slip that figured Prescott's
trial. Now, Mr. Dodge, isn't it plain to even the dullest mind
that you have been systematically cribbing at math., and that
it is to that fact you owe your present high standing in the yearling
class?"
"Now that I think of it," remarked Brayton, turning and fixing
his roommate with a frigid, hostile stare, "I have, on at least
two occasions, entered this room just in time to see Mr. Dodge
spring up hastily from near the fireplace. But I am a dull-witted
fellow, I suppose, and I didn't suspect.
"Have you anything to say, Mr. Dodge?" demanded Anstey.
"Nothing," barely gasped the detected wretch.
"Then I will say something instead, suh," continued the Virginian.
"I would rather the task fell to someone else, but this work has
been delegated to me, and I must see it through, suh. Mr. Dodge, we
are all satisfied that you are a miserable, lying, sneaking hound,
suh, not worthy to associate with gentlemen. We are satisfied, suh,
that you are without honor or principle, and that you will never be
fit to become an officer of the Army."
"Now, see here, fellows," broke in Dodge in a whining tone, "if
you'll be generous and give me another chance, I can live this down."
"Then you admit that which we have been stating against you, do
you, suh?" questioned the Virginian. "It will be best for you
to be wholly honest, suh!
"Yes---yes---I---admit---it," cried Dodge brokenly. "But I didn't
deliberately plan for Prescott's undoing---on my honor, I didn't!
What happened was this: When I took Prescott's handkerchief with
one hand, I had that crib in the other hand. After using the
handkerchief, I found that I couldn't pass it back without either
letting the crib be seen, or else tucking the crib into the
handkerchief. So I had to do the latter thing. But that was as far
as I was guilty---on my honor, gentlemen!"
"Then you expect us to believe in the honor of a cadet who dishonors
himself by sneaking cribs into a section room?" demanded Anstey
with mild but withering sarcasm.
"Give me just one more chance, gentlemen!" faltered Dodge. "I
pledge you my word that, henceforth, I'll do everything that is
creditable and honorable, and nothing that isn't!"
"We have a somewhat different proposition for you, Mr. Dodge,"
observed the Virginian. "We want no more of your stripe. We
would degrade the entire Army, and the whole people of the United
States of America if we allow you to remain here. Tomorrow, at
an early hour, you will hand in your resignation as a cadet, to
take effect upon acceptance. If you fail, we will lay before
the superintendent and the commandant of cadets all the evidence
that we have against you, including your own confession. You
will then have to face a general court-martial and be dismissed
from the service in the deepest disgrace that can come to a cadet."
Bert Dodge sank to his knees, holding his clasped hands up before
him.
"Don't insist on that, gentlemen! Don't! Spare me the disgrace!
Spare my parents!
"Mr. Dodge," replied Anstey sternly, "honor is the watchword in
the United States Military Academy, and all through the Army.
We couldn't spare a dishonorable wretch like you, suh, without
sharing in your disgrace. And I have not told you all that we
require. As soon as you have gone to your home you will write
a letter to the superintendent, exonerating Mr. Prescott from
all suspicion in that fearful affair. You will admit that you
alone were guilty. According to custom, that letter will be read
before the battalion in special orders and the entire corps will
then know how fully Cadet Prescott is worthy of being one of us."
"Write that letter?" demanded Dodge, leaping to his feet, but
cowering. "Never! You are taking an unfair, unmanly, ungenerous
advantage of me! You shall never have any such letter from me!"