“It was worse than a ghost,” came from Paxton, when he was able to speak. “Oh, I hope it doesn’t come this way!” And he glanced over his shoulder apprehensively.
“This is nonsense, boys! There are no ghosts.”
“Who fired that shot?” asked George Strong, while a crowd of cadets gathered around to learn what the new alarm meant.
“I did,” said a guard named Leeks. “I called on those fellows to halt, but they didn’t, so I fired to arouse the corporal of the guard.”
“Which was quite right, Leeks,” returned the master of the school. He turned again to Paxton and Sabine. “Now, give me your stories. Where have you been? You had no permission to leave the grounds. We missed you an hour or more ago.”
At these words Paxton and Sabine hung their heads. Sabine looked thoroughly miserable. As my old readers know, he was not naturally bad but was a lad easily led into wrongdoing.
“Cannot you answer me?” demanded the master of the school, after a painful pause.
“Paxton got me to go to a hotel down the lake shore, sir,” said Sabine in a low tone. “I am very sorry I went, sir, and I hope you’ll forgive me, sir. I won’t do it again.” And he gazed pleadingly at Captain Putnam.
“How about this, Paxton?”
“I—er—I went to the hotel because I thought some of my friends were stopping there,” was the lame reply. “As soon as I—er—found my friends weren’t there I came back.”