"I think the class has," broke in Pierson. "When the time comes
I shall have considerable to say."
"Then say it now!" commanded Haynes, glaring at his roommate.
"I will," nodded Pierson. "The other night, Haynes, I was awakened to find you walking about the room in your sleep. You also talked in your sleep. At the time I could make nothing of it all. Now, I think I understand."
Then Cadet Pierson swiftly recounted what he had seen and what he had heard that night in the room.
"You were fingering something on the left front of your blouse, and while doing so, you made the distinct remark that this was what had done the trick for Prescott," charged Pierson. "I did not see what it was that you were fingering, but the next day, the first chance I got, I, too, examined the left front of your blouse. I found a small, black pin fastened there. It has been fastened there every time since when I have had a chance to look at your fatigue blouse hanging on the wall."
"I am not responsible for what I say when I'm sleepwalking," cried
Haynes in a rage. "And, besides, Pierson, you're lying."
"I'll wager that not a man here believes I'm lying," retorted
Pierson coolly.
"No, no! You're no liar, Pierson!" cried a dozen men at once.
"Is there a black pin inside your blouse at this moment?" challenged
Greg.
"None of your business," cried the turnback hoarsely.