"You didn't see us, last night, as we slipped away from the monu-----"

"Shut up, you sun-scorched idiot!" cried Prescott sharply, under
his breath. "I don't want to know anything about it now."

"Oh, that's all right, I suppose," said Mr. Furlong, looking furtively
towards Bert Dodge, who was standing some distance off.

The very thought that he was now practically certain, morally,
at least, who one of the perpetrators of the monument affair was,
made Dick uneasy. He knew there was still a danger that he and
Greg might be summoned again to the tent of the O.C.

Bert Dodge saw, from a distance, the whispered talk between Dick
and Mr. Furlong; he also saw the latter's quick, stealthy glance.

Now, Dodge, from having tried to visit Furlong the night before,
knew that the young man had returned from the hop, for he had
seen Furlong go into his tent shortly after ten. Dodge also knew
that Furlong had been absent from camp at the time of the monument
discharges.

"Furlong is one of the offenders," thought Bert, "and Prescott
is roasting him about it. I suppose our highly conceited class
president thinks it his place to lecture all the jokers in the
class. But how would it be possible, without getting myself into
trouble, to pass on the hint that Prescott knows more than he
is telling?"

It didn't take a fellow with all of Cadet Dodge's natural meanness