votion of such an adventure--for
her sake! Of late years such tales had been rare. Girls worth the
winning simply would not permit so rash a project, and their example
carried weight. But here at "Hawkshurst" was a lively young brood,
chaperoned by a matron as wild as her charges and but little older, and
eager one and all for any glory or distinction that could pique the
pride or stir the envy of "that Craney set." It was too much for a girl
of Sallie Waring's type. Her eyes have a dangerous gleam, her cheeks a
witching glow; she clings tighter to his arm as she looks up in his
face.

"And yet--wouldn't it be lovely?--To think of seeing you there!--are you
sure there'd be no danger?"

"Be on the north piazza about quarter of eleven," is the prompt reply.
"I'll wear a dark suit, eye-glass, brown moustache, etc. Call me Mr.
Freeman while strangers are around. There goes the parade drum. _Au
revoir!_" and he darts away. Cadet Captain Stanley, inspecting his
company a few moments later, stops in front and gravely rebukes him,--

"You are not properly shaved, McKay."

"I shaved this morning," is the somewhat sullen reply, while an angry
flush shoots up towards the blue eyes.

"No razor has touched your upper lip, however, and I expect the class to
observe regulations in this company, demerit or no demerit," is the
firm, quiet answer, and the young captain passes on to the next man.
McKay grits his teeth.

"Only a week more of it, thank God!" he mutters, when sure that Stanley
is beyond ear-shot.

Three hours more and "taps" is sounded. All along the brilliant _facade_
of barracks there is sudden and simultaneous "dousing of the glim" and a
rush of the cadets to their narrow nests. There is a minute of banging
doors and hurrying footsteps, and gruff queries of "All in?" as the
cadet officers flit from room to room in each division to see that
lights are out and every man in bed. Then forth they come from every
hall-way; tripping lightly down the stone steps and converging on the
guard-house, where stand at the door-way the dark forms of the officer
in charge and the cadet officer of the day. Each in turn halts, salutes,
and makes his precise report; and when the last subdivision is reported,
the executive officer is assured that the battalion of cadets is present
in barracks, and at the moment of inspection at least, in bed.
Presumably, they remain so.

Two minutes after inspection, however, Mr. McKay is out of bed