* * * * *
Can you imagine how the Banded Seven howled when that paper arrived at West Point?
“The best joke yet, b’gee,” said Dewey, and the rest agreed with him.
But the end was not yet.
CHAPTER IX.
DISCOVERING A PLOT.
The cadets were building a pontoon bridge, the second one that summer. The cadets of the first class were the “engineering corps” and they were giving the orders; the plebes, quite naturally, were doing the work, carrying out the heavy logs and fastening them in place under the watchful eyes of their superiors. Cadets when they leave West Point after their four years of drill and study are supposed to be fully competent officers, ready to do their share of handling Uncle Sam’s army. This, of course, includes the building of bridges upon which an army may cross a river or stream; it was that the corps was practicing that day.
Mark Mallory had been helping at that task all day, along with his chums and the other plebes. It was almost over now, and Mark was glad of it, for he was tired. Bridge-building in army style may sound romantic, but it is no fun during August when the sun shines. There was only one redeeming circumstance to the whole thing that the plebes could see, and that was that on account of it they had been excused from no less than two inspections, two “policings” and two drills.
A little later Mark and his friends were lying on the grass in a shady nook up by Trophy Point. We must go up there and listen to what they are saying, in order to appreciate the adventures in the following pages.
They were just then discussing with much interest the adventure with the reporter; they were all anxious to know what the cadets thought of it, and this was the first chance they had had to compare notes.