"Take down the bridge," ordered Dick, after having saluted the
Army instructor.
Working as hard as before, the young men of the third and first classes began to demolish the bridge that they had constructed.
When this had been done, and Dick had officially reported the fact, Lieutenant Armstrong replied:
"Mr. Prescott, you will form your detachment and march back to camp."
"Very good, sir."
Always that same salute with which a man in the Army receives an order.
Some thirty seconds later, the detachment was formed and Dick was marching it back up the inclined road on the way to the summer encampment. By that time, a sergeant and a squad of Engineer privates—-soldiers of the Regular Army—-were busy taking care of the pontoon boats and other bridge material.
Marching his men inside the encampment, Dick halted them.
"Detachment dismissed!" he called out.
There was a quick break for first and third class tents. These young men were in field uniforms—-sombreros, gray flannel shirts, flannel trousers and leggings. Most of them were dripping with perspiration under the hot August sun.