Dick obeyed.
"Who goes there?" was the inquiry as the rifle was swung around.
"Friend."
"Advance friend, and give the countersign."
Dick was startled. Though this was strictly in accordance with the rules, it was something that was seldom enforced. And, to tell the truth, Dick did not have the countersign.
"Well?" came the impatient query. Dick wondered who his challenger could be, for the face was in the shadow.
"I—I'm afraid I haven't the countersign," faltered Dick, who was somewhat annoyed. "Is it actually necessary?"
"Of course it is," was the snapping answer. "Otherwise I shouldn't have asked for it. If you haven't it, you're under arrest."
"I'm Dick Hamilton," said our hero, "and I was on my way to see Hatfield about some football matters. Besides taps have only just sounded."
"Some time ago," was the curt reply. "Besides Hatfield's rooms aren't in the stable."