There is much instruction that the young man has to absorb.
Merely to take part is not enough. The young man must make
himself proficient in such branches of the soldier's art as cavalry
tactics, drill, horsemanship, scouting, artillery tactics and drill,
with drill at the guns of different calibers, and target practice with
field, siege, mountain, mortar, howitzer and seacoast guns, with a
lot of work in the service of mines.

Infantry tactics, with unceasing drill and a lot of target practice,
provide a great amount of work.

Then there is a wide range of work to be mastered in practical
military engineering, with the building of field fortifications,
obstacles, spar and trestle bridges, pontoon bridges, military
reconnoissance and sketching, map-making, surveying, military
signaling and telegraphy, wireless and telephone service, the
making of war material, the managing and handling of pack trains,
field manoeuvres, and--well, it's not a season of ideal play!

It was toward the end of this busy season of outdoor life that Greg
got into his most serious trouble up to that time, with an upper
class man.

The day had been unusually hot, even for West Point. Those of the
upper class men who felt the call to the evening's hop had dressed
with utmost care and departed for the ballroom and the glances of
soft eyes.

An unusually large number, however, were in camp this evening.

Tattoo sounds at 9.30. Men who wish are privileged to make up
their beds and turn in at this hour. Greg was among the large
number who went to sleep soon after tattoo this sultry night. For
that matter, young Holmes was lonely, both Dick and Anstey
having been drawn for guard duty.

Five minutes after tattoo Yearlings Davis and Poultney sauntered
down the company street.

"Suzz-zz! suzz-zz! Horwack!" came sonorously from the tent solely
occupied by Plebe Holmes.

"Great Washington!" muttered Poultney. "Who smuggled a
sawmill into camp?"

"The disturbance of the peace comes from this abode of beasts,"
declared Mr. Davis, halting and thrusting his head into the tent.

Greg did not awaken, but snored on with crescendo effects.

"We ought to teach a beast like that a lesson," whispered Poultney,
as he, also, stared in at the unconscious but offending Greg.

"How?"

A hurried, whispered conference followed. Right after that Mr.
Davis tied a stout cord to the tent-pole of the khaki house across
the company street. Four feet of this c