Prescott had too much honor to play the eavesdropper. He was just about to step out when the newcomer turned the corner, coming on straight past where Prescott stood in the deep shadow.
The newcomer was a cadet, and that cadet was Mr. Jordan.
"Well, my good fellow, have I kept you waiting long?" demanded Jordan, just the second after he had stepped past Dick without seeing the latter.
"You could a jumped faster," growled the stranger. "With all I know against you, Jordan, it will pay you to nurse my good feeling a little harder."
"Why, what's the matter with you now?" demanded Jordan more seriously.
Somehow, Dick could not pull himself away just then.
"Have you brought me some of that money you owe me?" demanded the stranger gruffly.
"Now, you know I can't, before graduation day," pleaded Jordan whiningly.
"And I know that, when graduation day comes, you'll tell me that every dollar you had in the world had to go into uniforms," snapped the stranger. "I'll tell you what I do know about you, Jordan, my boy. I know that if you don't find the money, turn it over and get back my note, you'll never graduate! Cadets can't borrow money on their notes; it's against the regulations. If it was known that you had borrowed five hundred dollars of me already, and that you were defaulting on principal and interest, too——-"
"It wasn't five hundred," broke in Jordan nervously. "It was just two hundred and fifty dollars."