Cadet Kindred studied the point a good deal as he lay there in the guard tent looking himself over, or stole a solitary walk now and then. And I say "stole" advisedly. Short of stealing away, a solitary walk was hard to get.
If, at the risk of his neck, he slid down some sheer cliff to the river's edge, few indeed would follow him, but a cadet boat might come along shore with a barge-load of girls in tow. And sometimes he was quick enough to dodge behind the bushes, and sometimes he sat still and let the shower of exclamations come.
"Oh, there's Mr. Kindred!"
"Just see Mr. Kindred!"
"Mr. Kindred, please get right into the boat."
"Haven't a permit."
"There's nobody round," said the Kitten. "Jump in quick. You never can get back up there without being dashed to pieces."
"Hardly with. Then there'll be one less 'additional' in the way."
"How dreadful! I thought you were better brought up than to talk so."
"I was."