“I think I’d give a dollar for some breakfast,” he muttered.  “Wonder if I could attract the attention of one of the servants and bribe him to get me something?”

As he walked around the little room his eyes caught some writing on the wall.  There were several bits of doggerel, one running as follows: 

“I am a prisoner of old Josiah,
I’d feel much better if I had a fire!”

“I can sympathize with that fellow,” murmured Pepper, as he slapped his hands across his chest, trying to get up more circulation.  Then he walked around the room, reading another doggerel or two.  Finally he drew out a lead pencil.

“Guess I’ll play Shakespeare myself,” he murmured, and after some thought, scribbled down the following: 

              “And I am jugged

Alone in solitude, and by myself
Alone.  I sit and think, and think,
And think again.  Old Crabtree,
Base villain that he is, hath put me here! 
And why?  Ah, thereby hangs a tale, Horatio! 
His teeth, the teeth that chew the best of steak
Set on our table—­those I found and hid;
And Mumps, the sneak, hath told on me!  Alas! 
When will my martyrdom end?”

Having finished his attempt at blank verse, Pepper continued to walk around the room.  He was hungry and cold, and inside of an hour grew somewhat desperate.

“Crabtree has no right to starve me and allow me to catch cold,” he told himself.  “I don’t believe Captain Putnam will stand for it.  I’m going to attract some attention.”

He took up one of the chairs and with it commenced to pound on the door.  He had been pounding for several minutes when he heard some one on the outside.

“Pepper!” came in a low voice.

“Oh, Jack, is that you?”

“Yes.  Stop that noise, or I’ll get caught.”

“I want to get out.  I haven’t had any breakfast, and it is as cold as Greenland in here.”

“If I had a key I’d let you out, but it isn’t in the lock,” went on the young major.

“Try some of the other keys, Jack.”

“I will,” was the reply, and the young major hurried off, to return with several keys from other doors.  But not one of them fitted the lock before him.

“Too bad!” he murmured.

“Major Ruddy!” came in the harsh voice of Josiah Crabtree behind him.  “What are you doing here?”

“I came to talk to Ditmore,” answered Jack, boldly.

“Who gave you permission?”

“Nobody, I came as major of the battalion.  When a cadet is placed in the guardhouse the major has a right to go and see him.”

“Hum!” growled Josiah Crabtree.  He took but little interest in the military side of the school and consequently did not know all the rules.  “Well, I can do the talking here.  You are excused.”

“Mr. Crabtree, Ditmore tells me that he is very cold, and he has had no breakfast.”