However, the special duty imposed upon Cadet Prescott for this
night related to plebes, and plebes do not go to the hops.

Bringing out his camp chair, Dick sat once more before his tent.
Down at Jordan's tent he could still hear the low hum of cadet
voices.

"Something is certainly going on there," mused Prescott.

For a moment or two he felt highly curious; then he repressed
that feeling.

"Good evening, Prescott."

"Oh, good evening, Stubbs."

Cadet Stubbs came to a brief halt before the cadet captain's tent.

"I have been noticing that Jordan has a good many visitors this
evening," Dick remarked.

"All from our class, too, aren't they?" questioned Stubbs.

"Yes. If we were yearlings I should feel sure that they had a
plebe or two in there. But first classmen don't haze plebes."

"No; we don't haze plebes," replied Cadet Stubbs with a half sigh,
for Prescott was the only first classman at present in camp who
did not fully know just what was in progress at Jordan's tent.