Doubtless a bit taken back, certainly so if he had expected to find anything wrong, Captain Vesey took two steps into the room, glanced about him, then wheeled and walked out.
"I must be going now," uttered Yearling Judson a moment later.
"Call on me again, once in a while, if you need any help in math."
"Thank you very much, sir," murmured Cadet Prescott respectfully.
"Coming along now, Pratt?" called Judson.
"Yes; I must be getting back to my own bone," replied Yearling
Pratt.
It would have been out of the question for yearlings to thank plebes for a service such as had just been rendered. So the late hazers merely stepped from the room.
"Odd! Mighty queer!" muttered Captain Vesey to himself, as he unhooked his sword and stood it in a corner over in the O.C.'s office. "Mr. Judson and Mr. Pratt have a pretty bad reputation for hazing. And yet, when I come upon them, it is to find them helping the poor young greenhorns through the mazes of math. I wonder if that was a put-up job on me."
"Well you are a silly ninny, Prescott!" uttered Cadet Dodge disgustedly.
"Meaning—what?" asked Dick coolly.
"Those yearlings were just about caught redhanded."