For some time he stood thus, eyes and ears alert, though he lounged
in the shadow where he was not likely to be seen.
"It's an off night for plebe mischief, I reckon," he murmured
at last. "All the plebes are good little boys to-night, and safely
tucked in their cribs."
At last, when it was near midnight, Prescott came out from his
place of semi-concealment and stepped over near the guard line.
It was not long ere a yearling sentry, with bayonet fixed and
gun resting over his right shoulder, came pacing toward the first
classman.
Recognizing a cadet officer, the yearling sentry halted, holding his
piece at "present arms."
"Walk your post," Dick directed, after having returned the salute.
Had Prescott been a cadet private the sentry would have questioned
him as to his reasons for being out after taps. But with a cadet
captain it was different. Though Prescott was not cadet officer
of the day, he was privileged to have official reasons for being
out without making an accounting to the sentry.
Slowly the yearling sentry paced down to the further end of his
post. Then he came back again. Having saluted Prescott recently,
he did not pause now, but kept on past the cadet officer standing
there in the shadow.
As the sentry's footsteps again sounded softer in the distance,
Prescott suddenly became aware of something not far away from him.
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