There were fully a dozen in that party. A very few moments later another party, seven in number, were creeping about the camp just as the yearlings had. They did one thing, however, which the yearlings did not do. That one thing we must notice before we follow them into the woods.
Two of them crept down the main “street” of the camp to one tent, a rather large tent at its head. The two were trembling quite a little as they went. Why shouldn’t they tremble?
“I guess this is the most daring thing we ever did,” one of them whispered. “If we should be found out there’d be a war for fair. ’Sh! I wonder if he’s asleep.”
It seemed that he was—for as the two paused and listened at the door of the tent they could distinctly hear a loud breathing. Considering the rank of the personage it would scarcely seem right to call it a “snore.”
However that may be, let us go on with the story. It is not the writer’s intention to have anybody shivering in suspense at this critical moment, dreading lest the hero’s wild prank should arouse the sleeping ogre.
Suffice it to say that after a brief space of time devoted to whispering and hesitating, one of the two figures knelt down and gently, very gently, slid one arm in under the canvas. Then gently, still more gently, he drew it out again. No disciple of the genuine Fagin himself could have done the act more silently, or gotten up and stolen away more swiftly than did those conspirators two.
Half a minute later the Seven were flying past the sentry beat and into the woods beyond. The sentry did not “see” this party either; he’d have jumped with surprise if he had. For while six of the party wore the regular plebe gray one of them was clad in a uniform that was blue!
We must leave them now to the guidance of the merry “B’gee!” and hasten on ahead to the scene of that long-delayed “Bull Harris’ banquet.” The conversation of the plebes would not interest us anyway, for all they did was to chuckle in wild delight over the “success” of their plot; if those lads could only have foreseen the result of their foolhardy act it is safe to say that they would have been considerably less hilarious and considerably more alarmed.
The yearlings were no less merry. By this time they had reached their destination, which was only a very short ways off from the camp—just far enough for safety. Here they found the drum orderly awaiting them. That youngster was seated on a box, mounting guard; the contents of the box we are sure the reader will agree were enough to justify the cadets in all their happiness.
The first thing to do was to light a camp-fire; everybody pitched in to help gather wood under the direction of the officious Bull, who, as host, naturally felt duty bound to boss everything. Pretty soon there was a merry blaze that lit up the little open space in the woods and the jolly party of lads who were gathered within it. The latter had by this time seated themselves about on the ground, chatting and joking, while they watched the all-important operation of opening that box.