"Wow, what on earth is the fellow doing?" muttered the puzzled Pierson.

Haynes had gone over to his fatigue blouse, the left front of which he was examining very closely.

Then the turnback began to mutter indistinctly.

"Why, Haynesy is walking and talking in his sleep!" decided Pierson.

"Queer! I never knew him to do anything like that before. He must have something on his mind."

Pierson had read, somewhere, that it is never wise to disturb a sleepwalker, there being a risk that the sleepwalker, if aroused too suddenly, may suffer collapse from fright.

"I wonder what on earth old Haynesy can have on his mind?" pondered Pierson. "Oh, well, whatever it is, it is no business of mine."

With that Pierson let his head return to his pillow.

"That did the trick for Prescott---ha! ha!" muttered the turnback.

"What on earth did the trick, and what trick was it?" muttered watching Pierson, curious despite the admitted fact that it was all none of his business.

After a few moments more Haynes went back to his cot, pulled the sheet and a single blanket up over him, and became quiet.

"It wouldn't do any good to ask Haynesy anything about this,"

decided Pierson. "He won't remember anything about it in the morning."

So Pierson went to sleep again. When he awoke in the morning he was more than half inclined to believe that he had dreamed it all.

The general reviews were drawing toward their close. In two studies Haynes was making a poor showing, though he believed that he would pa.s.s.

Riding drills were being held daily now. Preparations were being made for the stirring exhibition of cavalry work that was to be shown before the Board of Visitors.

On the afternoon of the day before the visitors were due, Greg started up at the call for cavalry drill.

So did d.i.c.k.

"Where are you going?" challenged Cadet Holmes.

"To cavalry drill," responded Cadet Prescott.

"Who said you could?"

"The K.C. for one; Captain Alb.u.t.t for another."

Greg looked, as he felt, aghast at the idea, but he managed to blurt out:

"What about the rainmakers?"

"Captain Goodwin has examined me again."

"Surely, he doesn't approve of your riding yet, d.i.c.k?"

"He didn't say whether he did or not."

"Then-----"

"But he certified that I was fit to ride."

"d.i.c.k, you didn't have to do this-----"

"No; but I want to be restored to full duty. Captain Alb.u.t.t has informed me that the horse a.s.signed to me will be a dependable, tractable animal, and I shall be on my guard and use my head."

"I don't like this," muttered Greg, as he fastened on his leggings.

"I didn't suppose you would, so I didn't tell you anything about it."

By the time that the second call sounded both young men were prepared, and joined the stream of cadets pouring out of barracks.

Other cadets than Greg expressed their astonishment when they saw Prescott in the detachment.

"Is this wise, old ramrod?" asked Anstey anxiously.

"A soldier shouldn't play baby forever," returned d.i.c.k. "And I have permission, or I wouldn't be here."

"I don't like it," muttered Anstey.

Furlong, Griffin and Dobbs all had something to say.

Haynes didn't let a word escape him, but his eyes lighted with evil joy.

"Now, I can finish the job, I guess," throbbed the evil one.

The detachment to which Prescott and some of his friends belonged was formed and marched through one of the sally-ports. Just beyond, a corporal and a squad of men from the Regular Army cavalry sat in saddle. Each enlisted man held the bridle of another horse than the one he rode. As the corporal dismounted his men, the cadets, at the word from their marcher, moved forward and took their mounts. At the command, the detachment rode forward, by twos, at a walk, down the road that led to the cavalry drill ground below the old South Gate.

It was Greg who rode beside his chum. In the drill, later, when in platoon front or column of fours, it would be Haynes who would ride on d.i.c.k's left.

The turnback had already made sure that his useful black pin was securely fastened inside his fatigue blouse.

Arrived at the drill ground, the cadets dismounted, standing by their horses in a little group until Captain Alb.u.t.t should ride out of one of the cavalry stables and take command.

Haynes, with a rapid throbbing of his pulses, bent forward and down, pretending to examine his horse's nigh forefoot.

As he did so, with an expertness gained of practice, Haynes slipped the head of the black pin in under the front of the sole of his right boot. Then he straightened up again, chatting with Pierson.

"I say, Haynes," drawled Anstey, a few moments later, glancing at the turnback's right foot, "that's a dangerous-looking thing you have in your boot."

"What's that?" demanded Haynes, losing color somewhat, yet pretending to be surprised.

"That long pin, sticking out of the front of your right boot,"

continued Anstey, pointing.