"Bless my soul!" echoed a voice from the bed—Indian was too sleepy to get up. "Bless my soul, what an extraordinary proceeding!"
"Come on," said Texas. "Hurry up."
The "Parson" snatched up his coat and made for the door.
"I think," said he, halting at the door in hesitation. "I think I'll leave my book behind. I'll hardly need it, do you think?"
"Come on!" growled Texas, impatiently. "Hurry up!"
Texas was beginning to get angry, as he thought, over Mark's "fool trick."
The two dodged the sentry without much trouble; it is probable that the sentry didn't want to see them, even if he did. They ran hastily out through the sally port and across the parade ground, Texas, in his impatience, dragging his long-legged companion in tow. They made a long detour and approached Fort Clinton from behind the hotel, in order to avoid the camp. Hearing voices from inside the embankment, Texas sprang hastily forward, scrambled up the bank, and peered down into the inclosure.
"Here they are," called one of the cadets, and then, as he glanced at the two, he added: "But where's Mallory?"
And Texas gazed about him in blank amazement.
"Where is he?" he echoed. "Where is he? Why, ain't he yere?"