The academy building and the chapel they left behind them, and bounded up the road toward the camp. They saw—oh, horrors!—the corporal and his single private standing in front of the morning gun, about to fire! And a moment later the four, one after another, dashed wildly around the camp, past the astonished officer of the day, and plunged over the embankment of Fort Clinton, where their uniforms lay hid.
Just then—bang! went the gun.
And two minutes later, red and breathless, but still in uniform and safe, the four signaled the sentry, rushed into camp, and fell in for roll call with their classmates on the company street. The escape was narrow; but the miss was as good as a mile.
CHAPTER XIII.
A VISIT TO THE CAVE.
“I don’t think I’ll ever rest quite easy again until I get these clothes hidden from sight.”
The speaker was Mark. There were quite a number of other plebes with him, seven of them altogether. They were hurrying through the woods north of the post; and a stranger passing by would have been very much surprised indeed to notice that each one of them carried upon his arm a bundle of fantastically-colored clothing.
The seven plebes would have been just as much alarmed, however, as the stranger. They were making desperate efforts to keep their curious burdens hid.
“I’m afraid every moment that somebody’ll step out and surprise us again,” Mark said. “I know I shall die if they do.”
The reason for this desperate secrecy is not far to seek. They wanted to get rid of the telltale disguises.