“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.  I’ve clean forgotten to get myself ready.  You hustle, and I’ll try not to be late in the formation.”

As Cadet Prescott hastened along through the lower corridor, he came face to face with the turnback.

Haynes stopped short, his jaw drooping.  For just a second he stiffened his arms as though to throw himself in an attitude of defence.

Halting, without speaking or raising a hand, Dick Prescott looked squarely into the other man’s eyes.

Haynes turned ghastly pale, his jaw moving nervously as though he would speak and could not.

A smile of scorn flashed into Prescotts face.  Haynes fairly writhed beneath that contemptuous look.  Then, still without a word or a sound, Prescott passed on.

“He did it!” muttered Dick to himself.

Yet, with the certainty of the turnbacks guilt, Prescott did not wish Haynes any personal harm.  The only greatly perturbed thought that ran through Dick’s mind was: 

“That fellow is not fit for the Army.  Must he be allowed to go on and graduate?”