pushed, or it was all a horrid dream," replied Dick
fervently.

"Then why didn't you so tell the K.C.?"

"I answered the K.C. truthfully, Greg. I told him all that I really
know. I didn't feel called upon, and wasn't asked, to tell him
anything that I guessed."

"What is your guess?" insisted Holmes, with the privilege of a
friend.

"Greg, as far as I can be sure of anything without knowing it,
I am absolutely certain that a cadet came out of the car, behind
me, and that he pushed me off the platform."

"A cadet?" demanded Greg, turning pale. To Holmes it seemed atrocious
to couple the word cadet with any act of dishonor.

"Greg, as I plunged through the air, I succeeded in turning a trifle.
I am convinced, in my own mind, that I saw the gray cape overcoat
of a cadet I am also certain that I got a glimpse of his face.
The only limit to my certainty is that I wouldn't want to name
the man under oath."

"Who was he?" demanded Holmes.

Advancing, placing his lips against one of Greg's ears, Prescott
whispered the name:

"Haynes! But you mustn't breathe this to a living soul! Remember,
I wouldn't dare swear to the truth of what I've hinted to you."

Greg Holmes, wholly and utterly loyal to the cadet corps of which
he was himself an honored member, went even paler. He leaned
back against the wall, clenching his fists tightly.

"Haynes?" he whispered. "I don't like the fellow, and I never
did. He's no friend of yours, either, Dick. But he wears the
staunch old cadet uniform and has had more than three years of
the West Point traditions. It seems impossible, Dick. Had anyone
else but you told me this, even against Haynes, I would have turned
on my heel and walked away."

"I hope it isn't true---I hope it is all a hideous nightmare,
born of my dismay when I found myself going through space!" breathed
Dick fervently.

"What are you going to do about this?" asked Greg huskily.

"Nothing whatever."

"You are not going to mention Haynes to anyone else?"

"No, sirree! I shall keep my eyes open a bit when Haynes is around;
that is all."

"I hope it isn't true---oh, I hope it isn't true," breathed Greg
fervently. "But I know you're no liar, Dick, and you're no dreamer
of dreams! Confound it, I almost wish you hadn't told me this.
But I asked you to."

Greg's face was a queer ashen gray in color.

At that moment the call for dinner formation sounded.

"You're all ready, Dick, so hustle along.