"In that case, all I can do is to stick out for absolute and repeated denial," shivered the turnback. "There's one great thing about West Point, anyway—-a cadets word simply has to be taken, unless there is the most convincing proof to the contrary. I guess Lewis will remember that I came in from the car ahead or seemed to. But I wonder if anyone, officer or cadet, saw me running along at the side of the train?"
It was small wonder that Cadet Haynes failed to get any sleep that night. All through the long hours to reveille the cadet tossed and tumbled on his cot. Fortunately for him, his roommate was too sound a sleeper to hear the tossing.
Heavy-eyed, shuddering, Haynes rose in the morning. Through the usual routine he went, and at last marched off to section recitation, outwardly as jaunty as any other man in the corps, yet with dark dread lurking in his soul.
It was about noon when Prescott reported at the adjutant's office, next going to the office of the commandant of cadets.
By both officers Dick was congratulated on his fortunate escape from death. Each officer asked him a few direct questions. Prescott stated that he had remained over night with the village clergyman, giving his wet, icy clothing a chance to dry.
It was when asked how he came to fall from the rear platform of the car that the cadet hesitated.
"I thought I was thrown from the platform, sir," Dick replied in each case.
"Who was on the platform with you?"
"No one, sir, an instant before."
"Did you see any one come out of the car?"