What busy days they were! New studies, new drills, riding among the rest; but that was a delight. The days shortened, the girls drifted away to less studious regions, the leaves fell--then the snowflakes; and the winter settled down into the long, steady stride which brought furlough nearer with every step.
January's first week sifted out several men from the yearling class; Mr. Carr among the rest. But as for some reason Mr. Carr took up his abode in the neighbourhood, he was still at least as useful an ally in helping them break regulations as he had been while in the Corps.
"If you want some fun," Rig said to Magnus one day, "just hang round the west wall of the Academic after supper."
"What about? I'm not going to put my fingers into a dark pocket."
"Nobody wants 'em in. There'll be enough without yours," said Rig. "But Carr is going to bring up a grocery store, and I thought you might like to see it."
"Bring up a grocery! Look out it doesn't turn into light prison for some of you."
[Illustration: MOUNTING HEAVY GUNS IN FORT CLINTON]
However, groceries being rare in that particular locality, when Magnus went out for his evening walk he did stroll towards the old Academic. The night was moonless, and not overbright with even stars; but the white spread of snow made things quite plain enough. And presently, as Magnus stepped down the walk, he saw a dark huddle of figures near the appointed west wall. A small sled and a very big box, with a half-dozen cadets playing stevedore.
Then an officer came along the walk, meeting Magnus, who saluted and passed on. The officer glanced rather curiously down towards the dark group, but, with his mind full of something else, he merely took a short cut across the area, and so through the sallyport from the inside.
It was at a critical moment. Box after box of chickens, mince pies, cakes, ham, sweets, celery, and so forth, had been pounced upon, stowed in bags, and carried off. Rig's turn came last.
"I believe it's a mistake, you all going the same way," he said, as he seized the last bag of chickens. "I'll slip round the corner, and come in from the plain."
So round he went in the dusky light and met Lieutenant Benton in the very mouth of the sallyport. Rig saluted, and slipped in. But dark as it was under the grey arch, the officer's practised eyes found something unusual about the cadet outlines, and the next moment he turned and gave chase.