“Yes, and we’ll see to it that steps are taken to do that,” the headmaster promised.
The sky was pitch black, and not a star in sight. A leaden sky threatened rain and the absence of the moon and the friendly stars made the world below very dark indeed. Fortunately for them the cadets knew the road fairly well, and they approached the camp through the bushes without having altered their course enough to puzzle them.
“We will be hailed in about a moment,” said the colonel. They were close to the outpost where the sentry was on duty, and they advanced boldly, waiting for the call.
But none came. They reached the line of patrol that the sentry was supposed to make, but they did not run across the man who should have been patrolling. In bewilderment they stopped.
“This is very queer,” murmured the colonel. “What can have happened?”
Terry moved forward and struck his foot against something soft. Without loss of time he dropped to his knees, feeling before him with his hands. The sharp intake of his breath drew their attention.
“What is it?” the colonel asked, quickly.
“Here is the sentry, tied up tighter than a bundle,” was the startling reply. “Something’s fishy around here.”
The others clustered around and a match was struck. They found Cadet Innes, the sentry, lying on his back, bound around with coarse but strong cord. He seemed to be all right otherwise, but perfectly speechless with a thick gag in his mouth. By the way his eyes snapped they judged that he had plenty to say. When the grunts of surprise were over they went to work and soon relieved him of the ropes and the gag.
“Be quiet, on your lives, men!” was his first word, after he had licked his dry lips. “The man who tied me up is in the camp, up to something.”