the guard on a dark night on
this lonely stretch was to wait until the sentry got close enough,
then to reach out and grab him by the ankles, throwing him.

Always, when such a trick was played successfully, the offender
would be up, off and safe by the time the thrown sentry was on his
own feet again.

So Prescott, without in the least intending to let his prisoner get
away, did not venture close enough to risk being pitched over on
his back himself.

"Poor old skylarker, too! I'm sorry for him," muttered Dick, under
his breath. "I'm afraid this spells trouble for some yearling."

"What can I do, though? I show my own unfitness if I let anyone run
the guard past me."

"Call again, sentry on three!" directed the voice of Corporal
Brodie.

"Here, sir," Dick answered.

Then to the spot ran the corporal, followed by two men of the
guard.

"Two or more men attempted to cross this post, sir," Dick
reported. "One tripped, and I'm holding him."

"Head him off, if he attempts to run ahead," directed Mr. Brodie,
nodding to one of his men of the guard. "Now, then, get up, and let
us see whether you're a cadet, or only a banker's son."

But the figure did not rise.

"Get up, sir, I tell you," ordered Corporal Brodie, slowly stepping
past Prescott.

But the figure did not stir.

"Perhaps the man fell and stunned himself," muttered Brodie.
Passing his rifle to his left hand the corporal parted the bushes,
then bent over the prostrate one.

"Oh, hang you!" growled the cadet corporal. He seized the figure
with his right hand, yanked it upward, then hurled it out, letting it
fall again across the post.

"Is that the man you stopped, Mr. Prescott?" demanded Corporal
Brodie in disgust.

But instead of answering, at that moment, Dick straightened up,
brought his rifle to port, and hailed:

"Halt! Who's there?"

"The officer of the day," came out of the blackness.

"Advance, officer of the day, to be recognized," Dick replied.

Forward out of the deep shadow came Cadet Captain Reynolds.

"What's the trouble, Corporal?" inquired the latest arrival.

"Mr. Prescott reports that two or more persons attempted to run
across his post, sir. He overtook one, who stumbled. Mr. Prescott
was guarding his prisoner as I arrived, sir, and that was the
prisoner!"

Corporal Hasbrouck pointed in disdain at the stuffed figure that he
had hauled out from under the bushes and Dick's bayonet.

"A stuffed figure, in gray trouse