“A tent is down,” answered George Strong. “Some students’ fun, I presume.”
Soon Baxter, Ritter, and Mumps crawled from under the collapsed tent, making a great noise among the tinware as they did so. Then a crowd began to collect.
“Fenwick! What in the world is the matter with your face?” cried Captain Putnam.
“It’s flour, sir,” answered Mumps. “Somebody nearly smothered me with flour.”
“They played a trick on us,” growled Dan Baxter. “There was a noise and I got up and saw a make-believe ghost—some phosphorus on some dangling shingles. I started to get up, and then somebody pulled the tent down on our heads.”
Some of the cadets began to snicker at this. More lanterns were lit, and while some of those present started to repair the damage that had been done, Captain Putnam took a lantern and walked around the camp. Seeing something behind some bushes, he walked thither and came to where Coulter and Sabine were still standing blindfolded and with their hands tied behind them.
“What are you doing here?” asked the master of the Hall, in amazement.
“Oh, Captain Putnam, is that you?” asked Sabine. “Will you help us?”
“What is the trouble?”
“We are afraid of the traps,” said Coulter.