"Good night, sir."
"Mr. Prescott was clever enough to prevent my pouncing on Mr. Holmes at the reveille gun tonight," mused the O.C. "I can hardly suspect Mr. Prescott of untruthfulness, but I wonder whether he has been clever enough to baffle me in this monument affair, without telling an absolute untruth?"
For nearly a half an hour the O.C. lay awake, reviewing the method he had followed in questioning Cadet Prescott.
In the morning, after breakfast, there were a few minutes of leisure in camp before the squads or platoons marched away for the first drills.
"You were on the grill, last night, old ramrod?" asked Furlong, in a chuckling whisper.
"Yes," Dick nodded.
"You couldn't tell anything?"
"I knew less than nothing to tell."
"You didn't see us, last night, as we slipped away from the monu——-"
"Shut up, you sun-scorched idiot!" cried Prescott sharply, under his breath. "I don't want to know anything about it now."