kies," hailed Dodge, halting and
looking in through the doorway.

"Come in here a minute, Dodge," urged Anstey.

For an instant Dodge looked suspicious. Then he muttered:

"As you're not yearlings, I accept the invitation."

Very spick and span Dodge looked as he entered the tent. As a
member of the guard he wore a pair of immaculate white duck
trousers, which held the "spooniest" crease imaginable. His gray
coat and white gloves made him look more the dandy than usual.

"We've something to tell you, Dodge," Anstey continued almost in
a whisper, as the four plebes stood in a close bunch. "At least, old
ramrod says we ought to tell you."

Then, lowering his voice still more, Anstey gave an outline of what
the new yearlings were supposed to try to do to the lonely plebe on
post number three at the hour when ghosts walk.

"Humph!" rejoined Dodge quickly. "Let the yearlings try that sort
of trick, if they dare. Have those fellows no idea of the sacred
position of trust held by a United States sentinel? For I, on sentry
duty, represent the sovereignty of the United States just as much as
does any soldier patrolling a lonely post in the face of the enemy in
war time!"

"All very well," grinned Dick "But how are you going to prove it, if
the yearlings catch you napping tonight?"

"They won't," retorted Dodge pompously. "They shan't. And if any
fellow, I don't care who he is, tries to rush my post to-night he'll
feel the steel of one of Uncle Sam's bayonets prodding him in the
tenderest part of his worthless carcass!"

"Look out, Dodge!" cautioned Greg softly. "Don't let any of the
yearlings hear you canning a brag like that, or they'll get you if
they have to turn out the whole class after taps to do the job."

"Let 'em try it!" insisted Dodge. "And you fellows are at liberty to
tell anyone that I said it."

With that the speaker turned and strolled out of the tent, looking
rather miffed.

"The pompous old idiot!" muttered Anstey, in a tone of pained
disgust. "Oh, why did ever fond parents let a mentally irresponsible
chap like that come to a place like West Point for anyway?"

"Our skirts are clear, anyway," remarked Dick Prescott
consolingly. "We told him all we knew. If he doesn't act upon it,
it's his rifle, not ours, that gets fouled."

Dodge not only believed the hoax to be impossible, with him on
number three, but he was incautious enough to talk about it freely
among the plebes during the day.

As