eg's fevered imaginings were cut short
by word that was brought over to him from the cadet guard house.
Prescott had reported by wire. He had fallen from the rear
car of the train into a river. The telegram merely stated that
he had made his way to the nearest village, where a clergyman
had provided him with the funds needed for his return to West
Point. He would report at the earliest hour possible.

From room to room in cadet barracks flew the news.

"Now, how could a fellow be so careless as to fall off a moving
train?" demanded Lewis.

"Old ramrod may have been shaken up a heap in the game," hinted
Anstey. "Prescott isn't the sort of chap to tell us every time
he feels a trifle dizzy or experiences a nervous twitch. He may
have felt badly, may have gone out on the platform for a whiff
of fresh air, and then may have felt so much worse that he fell."

"Depend upon one thing," put in Brayton decisively. "Whatever
Prescott does there's some kind of good reason for."

"It's enough, for to-night, declared Greg, to know that the royal
old fellow is safe, anyway. To-morrow, well have the story, if
there is any story worth having."

Turnback Haynes received the news with mingled emotions. His
first sensation was one of relief at knowing that he was not actually
a murderer---one who had wickedly slain a fellow human being.

It was not long, though, before Haynes became seized with absolute
fright over the thought that Prescott must have recognized him.

"In that case, all I can do is to stick out for absolute
and repeated denial," shivered the turnback. "There's one great
thing about West Point, anyway---a cadets word simply has to be
taken, unless there is the most convincing proof to the contrary.
I guess Lewis will remember that I came in from the car ahead
or seemed to. But I wonder if anyone, officer or cadet, saw me
running along at the side of the train?"

It was small wonder that Cadet Haynes failed to get any sleep
that night. All through the long hours to reveille the cadet
tossed and tumbled on his cot. Fortunately for him, his roommate
was too sound a sleeper to hear the tossing.

Heavy-eyed, shuddering, Haynes rose in the morning. Through the
usual routine he went, and at last marched off to section recitation,
outwardly as jaunty as any other man in the corps, yet with dark
dread lurking in his soul.

It was about noon when Prescott reported at the adjutant's office,
next going to th