"Mister, you are not on your knees, as directed," exclaimed Cadet
Prescott.

"I---I am sorry, sir, but I couldn't help falling over," replied
crestfallen Mr. Briggs, standing at attention beside his overturned
bucket.

He wriggled slightly, in a way eloquently suggestive of the water
that was trickling over his skin under his clothing.

"Did you get wet, mister?" asked Dick.

"Yes, sir."

"Skin wet?"

"Yes, sir."

"Now, that is really too bad, mister," continued Prescott in a
tone that hinted at a great deal of sympathy. "You mustn't be
permitted to get chilled. Exercise is what you need."

Dick paused.

"Poor, young Mr. Briggs stood mute, blinking back.

"Milesy, may Mr. Briggs have the use of your piece for a few minutes?"

"Why, surely," declared Cadet Furlong in a tone of great cordiality.