"Great Cæsar!" he cried, "I've got it!"
"Got it! What?"
"A scheme! A scheme to do him!"
"What is it?"
"Write him a letter, or something—get him to leave barracks at night—have a sentry catch him beyond limits, or else we'll report him absent! Oh, say!"
The crowd were staring at each other in amazement, a look of delight spreading over their faces, as the full possibilities of this same inspiration dawned upon them.
"By the lord!" cried Bull, at last. "Court-martial him! That's the ticket!"
"Shake on it!" responded Murray.
In half a minute the gang had sworn to put that plan into execution within the space of twenty-four hours. And after that they hurried on down to the point to go in swimming.
"Speak of angels," remarked Murray, "and they flap their wings. There's the confounded plebe now."