It was someone else coming.  With all the stealth in the world Dick now managed to slip around the end of the building and toward the front.

A cadet had stepped out as though seeking a breath of cool air between dances.  Dick darted forward on tiptoe until he recognized the oncoming one.  It was Douglass, president of the first class.

“Mr. Douglass!” whispered Dick, stopping squarely before his successor in class honors.

Douglass, without looking at his appealing fellow classman, or opening his lips to answer, stepped around Prescott.

But Dick caught his unwilling comrade firmly by the arm.

“Douglass,” he whispered, “in the name of justice, listen to me just an instant—–­a swift instant, too!  I think the chance has come to clear me of the load of dislike and contempt with which I am regarded here.  This appeal is between man and man!  Jordan is around the corner, telling a stranger how he trapped me and got me into disgrace with the class.  As a matter of cadet justice and honor, I beg you to go softly to the corner and hear what is being said.  Do not let Jordan suspect that you are near.  What he is saying will clear me.  Go, and go softly, I beg you, as a matter of justice from one man to another!”

All the time that Dick had held his arm Douglass had stood there, not seeking to snatch himself free.

Nor did he utter a word.  The class president stood there, like a statue, looking straight past Prescott, as though he did not know that such a being existed anywhere in the world.

Now, with despair tugging at his heart, Prescott released his hold.

Cadet Douglass moved forward again.  Dick stood watching his brother cadet with a feeling of despair until he saw that Douglass was moving softly.  Dick saw him go quietly around the corner of the building.  Now, Dick was at his heels, stealthy as any Indian could have been, until he looked around the corner and saw that Cadet Douglass had slipped into the same shadow that Dick himself had occupied until a moment before.

“Now, if that pair yonder will only go on talking about me for sixty seconds!” thought Dick in a frenzy.

Again he flew toward the front of the building.  There was just one other cadet outside—–­Durville, the man whom he had been obliged to report for a tremendously grave breach of discipline.

But Dick Prescott’s courage was up now.  He raced forward, fairly gripping Durville and holding him tight.

“Durville, listen to me for just a moment,” begged Dick.  “I know you don’t like me, but you’re a man of honor.  Jordan is on the east side of this building, and I believe he is confessing a plot that he put into successful operation against me.  Douglass is already there listening.  Will you slip there softly, and listen, too?  I don’t ask this as a matter of friendship, but of honor!  Will you go—–­and softly?”