Tap-tap! sounded at the door. In walked the white-gloved cadet assistant officer of the day.
"Mr. Darrin, you will report immediately to the officer in charge."
"Very good, sir," Dave answered.
This was again Lieutenant Hall's day to be in charge. Dave walked into that gentleman's office, saluted, reported his presence under orders and then stood at attention.
"Mr. Darrin," began Lieutenant Hall, "I had occasion to inspect your room. The air was quite thick with tobacco smoke. I felt it necessary to make a very thorough search. In the pocket of your rain-coat I found"—Lieutenant Hall produced from his desk a pouch of tobacco and a well-seasoned pipe—"these."
The officer in charge looked keenly at Darrin, who had turned almost deathly white. Certainly Dave had the appearance of one wholly guilty.
"Have you anything to say, Mr. Darrin?" continued the officer in charge.
"I have never, in my life, sir, smoked or used tobacco in any form,"
Darrin truthfully answered.
"Then how did these articles come to be in your possession?"
"They were not in my possession, sir, were they?" Darrin asked, with the utmost respect.