of July had got into their blood."

The police reserves came running up now. First of all, the revolvers
of the five wild ones were gathered up. Then the officers turned
to the prisoners that had been captured by the West Point cadets
and the Young Engineers.

"These fellows are only medicine-show cowboys," Tom explained,
with a grin, to the chief of police. "I know the real kind---and
these sorry specimens are not it. Probably these fellows have
never been west of Ohio."

"You're an Indian, I'm pretty sure," said Cadet Prescott to the
painted redskin whom he now held by one arm. "But you're a tame
Indian. What part of Maine do you come from?"

"Yes, I'm an Indian," grinned Dick's captive "I own a farm on the
east end of Long Island."

"Humph! You've been through the pubic schools, too?" demanded
Dick.

"Yes, sir."

Greg's Indian was quite as docile. The police now had the weapons
of all the party, except one automatic weapon that Greg was examining.
"Yah!" grinned Holmes. "This gun is loaded with blank cartridges.
I guess all the others were, too."

The guess was a wholly correct one.