But here, right at the entrance to the port, stood Chaplain Montgomery.
"Corporal Haskins," called the chaplain, as he returned the cadet officer's smart salute, "will you excuse Mr. Prescott that I may speak with him?
"Mr. Prescott, fall out!" came Haskins' command.
With a feeling of horror and anguish Dick fell out, saluting Chaplain Montgomery, for the chaplain, though an ordained minister of the church, was also, by virtue of his post of chaplain, a captain of the United States Army.
On moved the detachment, the feet of the cadets moving at a rhythmic beat as these perfect young soldiers moved on across the barracks area.
And all Chaplain Montgomery had to say to Cadet Prescott was to tell him in which bound file of a magazine at the Y.M.C.A. could be found an article about which Dick had asked the churchman a fortnight before.
Dick returned thanks, though he meant no disrespect to the kindly chaplain. Then, saluting, he hurried on after the detachment.
But more than a fatal minute had been lost at the sally-port, and now the detachment was dismissed. The men had been in their rooms for at least forty-five seconds.
"No use to go to Dodge now!" thought Dick despondently. "Whether he knows that I saw that cuff or not, he has removed it and has it safely hidden by this time. Oh, if Chaplain Montgomery could have been a hundred yards further away at that moment!"
It was no use to lament. Dick concluded to wait and bide his time. The chance might yet come to catch Bert Dodge red handed.