Two different armed forces were now moving swiftly forward to
reinforce the O.C., as the officer in charge is termed.

Two policemen of the quartermaster's department---enlisted men
of the Army, armed on with revolvers in holsters---ran over from
the neighborhood of the nearest officers' quarters.

Cadet Corporal Haynes and the relief of the guard, moving at double
quick, passed Dick and Greg on the path.

"Some fellows touched off firecrackers," whispered Greg to his chum.

"Number one cannon crackers," guessed Prescott.

They could see Captain Bates take a dark lantern from one of the
quartermaster's police detail, and scan the ground closely all
around where the cannon crackers had been discharged.

"Nothing more doing," muttered yearling Prescott. "We may as well
be going back to camp, Greg. But we'll lose a heap of that six hours
and a half of sleep tonight."

"Think so?" demanded Holmes moodily.

"Know it. The tac. saw us twice on this path, and he has us marked.
The O.C. and the K.C. (commandant of cadets) will hold their own
kind of court of inquiry tonight, and you and I are going to be
grilled brown."