"Now, if that pair yonder will only go on talking about me for sixty seconds!" thought Dick in a frenzy.
Again he flew toward the front of the building. There was just one other cadet outside—-Durville, the man whom he had been obliged to report for a tremendously grave breach of discipline.
But Dick Prescott's courage was up now. He raced forward, fairly gripping Durville and holding him tight.
"Durville, listen to me for just a moment," begged Dick. "I know you don't like me, but you're a man of honor. Jordan is on the east side of this building, and I believe he is confessing a plot that he put into successful operation against me. Douglass is already there listening. Will you slip there softly, and listen, too? I don't ask this as a matter of friendship, but of honor! Will you go—-and softly?"
Slowly Durville turned and looked into Prescott's eyes. Then he did not speak, but he nodded.
"Thank you, Durville! Be quick—-and stealthy! Let me guide you."
Class President Douglass stood in the shadow. He heard Jordan's own tongue telling the stranger the familiar story of how he, Jordan, had been reported for indolence in the bridge construction work.
"I had to get square," Jordan was continuing, just as Dick piloted
Durville within hearing.
"And you think you did it slickly, I suppose?" jeered the stranger.
Though Jordan did not seem to suspect it, the stranger was seeking this information as another blackmailing club to hold over Jordan's head.