It was a terrible moment. The lads gazed at each other in dismay. They were paralyzed. There would be an inspection in camp! And they would be missed! And Allen’s uniform!
A second later Mark whirled about and dashed into the woods.
“Come on!” he cried. “Come on! We may not be too late!”
It was a faint hope, but they tried it. Over the ground they flew like mad, stumbling, plunging. Shouts and yells still came from the camp to urge them to yet greater haste. And then suddenly they burst out of the woods and Camp Lookout lay before them.
There was visible then a scene so utterly extraordinary and incomprehensible that it taxes the pen to describe it. Surely never at a military encampment had such a sight been beheld before. Terrified though those seven plebes were they could scarcely keep from roaring as they saw it.
The yells—which, of course, had come from Bull and his crowd—had created the wildest imaginable confusion. Cadets had leaped up and rushed out of their tents. And Lieutenant Allen had sprung to his feet and began groping about in the darkness for his clothing. Naturally he had not found it, and hence the extraordinary scene.
His cries of rage—for when he realized that some one had had the audacity to steal his clothing and then awaken the camp, you may guess how he raved—had brought cadets and officers to his tent a-flying, in their underclothes. And there they stood huddled together in amazement, while the furious officer, torn between a desire to rush out and murder some one and a sense of dignity which forbade him to appear before his cadets as he was, raged in his tent like the wrathful Achilles and howled for vengeance.
Meanwhile what were the plebes doing? Can you guess? The sentries had all deserted their posts and rushed to see what was the matter with the “tac.” Those seven mischievous plebes dashed into camp with the speed of a whirlwind, plunged into their tents and flung off their clothes.
And now there remained only the telltale uniform, the uniform which had caused delay and saved them so far.
Mark’s tent lay right behind the officers, and suddenly when no one was looking a gun was poked out. On the end of the gun a bayonet! On the end of the bayonet a uniform! And it was quietly tossed over against the back of the tent.