Come over to Dobb’s Hotel. Must see you and talk with you at once. Don’t let any one know you’re meeting me.
Your Uncle.
Randall whistled. His uncle! He had had the pleasure of meeting that gentleman on his arrival in the North, and he had not been greatly impressed by Colonel Carson’s rather uncouth accents and hard features. Still, Colonel Carson was his uncle, and had come up from Carsonville to see him, it appeared.
He turned quickly to his roommate.
“I’ve got to go over to town, Clarke,” he said. “Will you fix the rope in the window so I can get in without running the guard?”
“Surest thing you know, old man,” said Clarke. “Will you get in before taps?”
“I can’t tell yet, but probably not.”
“Well, get along, then. I’ll fix up a dummy that’ll fool the inspector when he comes to look at the beds. You’ll find the rope out of the window as usual.”
Quickly but quietly, Bob left the barracks and the academy grounds. It was not the first time that he and his roommate had wanted to come in after regulation hours, and by the aid of the rope and dummy this was invariably effected without much danger of detection and punishment.
Randall found his uncle waiting for him at the hotel, and was quickly taken to a private room.