“How was that? Didn’t you have a pass?”
“Yes; but it was only good until half-past nine, and we stayed out until half-past ten.”
“Oh! ah. Well, that’s nothing when you get used to it, is it, Fisher?” said Clarence.
“Nothing at all,” replied Tom. “It has been a very common thing with me, and now I never think of asking for a pass. I go when I please and come back when I feel like it.”
“What do you suppose they will do with us?” asked Bert, who was anxious to have that point settled as soon as possible.
“Let me see,” said Clarence, thoughtfully. “Who was officer of the day yesterday?”
“I don’t know his name,” answered Don, “but he was the same one who instructs our class in mathematics, an old gentleman with gold spectacles, and a medal of some kind on his breast.”
“Oh, that was Dutchy,” said Fisher, in a tone of contempt. “He’s our fencing-master also. Well, he will make the case against you as black as he can, and if he were the one to say how you should be punished, I tell you you would have a lively time of it, for he is a regular martinet. The President is a very strict disciplinarian, but he hasn’t yet forgotten that he was once a boy himself, and he will probably be easy with you.”
“But what will he do?” insisted Bert. “That’s what Don and I want to know. And if he is going to punish us at all, why doesn’t he say so?”
“Because the proper time has not yet arrived. Wait until dress-parade comes off to-night, and then you will find out all about it, for it will be published in general orders.”