"Nothing so very tiresome," replied Anstey. "I made him brace
for five minutes, and then go through the silent manual of arms
for five more."

"Humph! That wasn't much!" grunted Furlong.

"I guess that was why Mr. Briggs felt that he had to get square,"
mused Dick aloud. "But a plebe is not allowed to get square by
doing anything b.j."

Again Anstey turned as if to go out, but Dick broke in:

"Don't do it, Mace. Try, for the next half hour, to keep as cool
as an iceberg. Trust the treatment of the impish plebe to us.
Greg, old fellow, will you be the one to go down and tell Mr.
Briggs that his presence in this tent is desired immediately?"

Plebe Briggs was alone in his tent, his bunkies being absent on
a visit in another tent. Mr. Briggs was still grinning broadly
as he remembered the roar with which Anstey had acknowledged the
big splash.

But of a sudden Mr. Briggs's grin faded like the mist, for Greg
was at the doorway.

"Mr. Briggs, your presence is desired at once at Mr. Furlong's
tent."

"Yes, sir," replied the plebe meekly. He got up with an alacrity