t soldier, in the
end, I'll wager, who learns to keep his greatest desires in check. All
the restrictions thrown around the plebe by custom are intended to
make him the better man, soldier and officer by teaching him to
wait until his time comes."

"I congratulate you, mister," spoke a low but hearty voice from the
doorway of a tent the two plebes were passing. "You're coming on,
mister. Grin and bear it. You'll be happy one of these days!"

Dick and Greg glanced backward over their shoulders to see that
the speaker was Mr. Reynolds, member of the new first class and a
cadet captain. Reynolds usually attended the hops. But for to-night
he had only a telegram in the breast of his coat in the place of the
cherished "femme" whom he had hoped to "drag." As he stood in
his doorway, looking up at the inscrutable stars, Cadet Captain
Reynolds was taking his own lesson in patient waiting.

"Thank you, sir," Dick replied in a low tone, then faced front again.

That night another plebe was on post number three during the tour
ending at midnight. He was not molested, however, which was
most fortunate for mischief-loving yearlings, for the K.C. had
stationed two tacs. in hiding close by, to be promptly on hand in
case of any attempted trouble.

A few nights later it came Dick Prescott's turn to take the late tour
on post number three. He was both apprehensive and watchful, but
when the relief picked him up at midnight he had no report of any
kind to make.

It was well enough known throughout cadet camp that the
superintendent and all his subordinates were bent sternly on
stopping or severely punishing any attempts to interfere with
sentries.

As the weeks of hard work passed, and no more mysteries fell over
post number three it began to be felt that plebes might thereafter
walk there on the darkest night without worry.

One day in July Dick found himself again on guard, with post
number three for the "ghosts promenade"--that is, the tour ending
at midnight.

"Don't feel too secure, will you, old man?" begged Anstey. "Watch
out, just the same, won't you?"

"I always take that post as though it were one of especial danger,"
Dick answered seriously.

Which was well indeed, for Yearlings Davis, Graham and Poultney
were even then plotting behind the walls of their tent.

CHAPTER XIII

THE SENTRY MAKES A CAPTURE

"Post number one! Eleven o'clock, and all's well."

"Post number two! Eleven o'clock, and all's