"Just wait till I find out who did it," he told himself, as he washed up the best he could in some cold water. "I'll have them in court for it." But he never did find out, nor did Captain Putnam's investigation lead to any disclosures.
William Philander's trials for that night were not yet at an end. On the march to the camp some of the cadets had picked up a number of burrs of fair size. A liberal quantity of these had been introduced under the covers of Tubbs' cot immediately after he left the tent.
Having washed up as best he could, the aristocratic cadet blew out the light he had borrowed and prepared to retire once more. He threw back the covers and dropped heavily upon the cot in just the spot where the sharpest of the burrs lay.
An instant later a wild shriek of pain and astonishment rent the air.
"Ouch! Oh my, I'm stuck full of pins! Oh, dear me!"
And then William Philander Tubbs leaped up and began to dance around like a wild Indian.
"What's the matter with you, Billy?" asked one of his tent-mates, entering in the midst of the excitement.
"What's the matter?" roared poor Tubbs. "Everything is the matter, don't you know. It's an ah—outrage!"
"Somebody told me you had blacked up as a negro minstrel and were going to serenade your best girl."
"It's not so, Parkham. Some beastly cadets played a joke on me! Oh, wait till I find out who did it!" And then William Philander began to moan once more over the burrs. It was a good quarter of an hour before he had his cot cleaned off and fit to use once more, and even then he was so excited and nervous he could not sleep another wink.