It was a rule of honor among the cadets of Putnam Hall that no student should tell on another. To do that would have been to put one's self down as a sneak, and none of our friends wanted such a reputation.
"I ask again, who started that fire?" went on Captain Putnam, with increased sternness.
"I rather think I know the guilty parties," said George Strong, who had walked away on an errand and had just returned, "Ritter and Coulter, what have you to say?"
The two culprits started, and Coulter turned pale.
"Why, I—er——" stammered Gus. "I—that is——" He did not know how to proceed. He did not dare deny his guilt, not knowing but what the assistant teacher might have seen him and his crony light the tar-barrels.
"Well, if you—er—want to know the truth, Captain Putnam, we—er—started the fire," stammered Reff Ritter. "But it was an accident."
"An accident?"
"Yes, sir. We were—er—going to roll the barrels down to the lake—going to hide 'em so that Ditmore and his friends couldn't find 'em, you know. Well, we didn't want to get the tar on our hands, so we—er—started a little fire to see by—it was dark under the trees. All of a sudden the barrels blazed up. We—er—didn't expect such a big blaze."
"That's it," cried Coulter, eagerly. "We just made the fire at first to see by."
"Then you didn't really want to fire the barrels under the trees?"