In half an hour more, it would
be taps. At taps, all lights in tents were expected to be out,
and the cadets, save those actually on duty, to be in their beds.
An exception was made in favor of cadets who had received permission
to escort young ladies to the hop. Each cadet who had to return
to the hotel, or to officers' quarters with a young lady had received
the needed permission, and the time it would take him to go to
the young lady's destination and return to camp was listed at
the guard tent. Any cadet who took more than the permitted time
to escort his partner of the hop to her abiding place would be
subject for report.
However, the special duty imposed upon Cadet Prescott for this
night related to plebes, and plebes do not go to the hops.
Bringing out his camp chair, Dick sat once more before his tent.
Down at Jordan's tent he could still hear the low hum of cadet
voices.
"Something is certainly going on there," mused Prescott.
For a moment or two he felt highly curious; then he repressed
that feeling.
"Good evening, Prescott."
"Oh, good evening, Stubbs."
Cadet Stubbs came to a brief halt before the cadet captain's tent.
"I have been noticing that Jordan has a good many visitors this
evening," Dick remarked.
"All from our class, too, aren't they?" questioned Stubbs.
"Yes. If we were yearlings I should feel sure that they had a
plebe or two in there.
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