“It was Ritter!” cried one cadet. “I saw him just as he dodged around a corner of the tent.”
“How is it you were awake?” asked another suspiciously.
“I just came in from guard duty. I was on Post 5.”
“Well, if it was the Ritter crowd we ought to get after ’em,” came from Dale.
“How could it be the Ritter crowd?” came from another cadet. “I heard they were going to have a feast to-night.”
“That comes off to-morrow night,” answered Joe Nelson.
As quietly as possible, so as not to disturb Captain Putnam and George Strong, the cadets looked around the various tents of their enemies. They found Ritter in his tent, lying on his cot and snoring loudly.
“He is shamming,” whispered Pepper. “Just wait till I prove it.”
“How will you do it?” asked Dale.
“I’ve got some red ink in a bottle here. I’ll daub his face with that. It’s indelible and it won’t come off for a month. He’ll look like an Indian on the warpath.”