The two boys did not sleep a wink that night—or morning, rather. They rolled and tossed about on their beds, waiting impatiently for the report of the morning gun which finally rang out on the frosty air, being followed almost immediately by the rattle of drums and the shrieking of fifes in the drill-room. They marched down with their company, and while the roll was being called they ran their eyes over the Plebes who were drawn up at the farther end of the room. There was Don Gordon in the front rank, looking as fresh as a daisy and as innocent as though he had never violated a rule in his life.
“He did get in, didn’t he?” said Duncan, while he and Fisher were clearing up their room in readiness for inspection. “He didn’t seem any the worse for his night’s experience, either; but did you notice Dick Henderson? His face was as long as your arm.”
Having received positive proof that Don had succeeded in reaching his room in spite of the fact that the hall-door had been locked against him, Tom and his companion, their friendly relations having been fully restored by the unexpected and mysterious failure of Duncan’s “idea,” became anxious to know how he had done it. During the two hours of study that came after the inspection of their rooms, they did not look at their books.
As soon as breakfast was over and the ranks were broken, they put on their overcoats and went out in search of Don. They found him in a very few minutes, for he was also looking for them. He was just as anxious to know why he had been challenged while the other members of the party were allowed to pass, as they were to ascertain how he had got back to his room. Before any of the three could speak, Dick Henderson came rushing up.
“That will do for the present, Bub,” interrupted Duncan.
“Well, say it some other time. We are busy just now.”
“Let him speak,” said Don. “I want him to tell why he stopped me this morning.”
“That’s a fact, you didn’t. But you tried to all the same, and I want to know what you meant by it.”
“Why, Gordon, it can’t be possible that you were—eh?”
Dick was about to ask Don if he was the boy who tried to bury himself out of sight in a snowdrift, and who jumped up and ran toward the academy when the corporal of the guard was summoned; but he was interrupted by a look from Duncan. Then the latter pointed with his thumb over his shoulder, and Dick, who understood the motion, beat a hasty retreat, looking crestfallen as well as bewildered.