“By not trying, Jack. But come, are you going to be an officer or not? As a battalion, we are to have a major, two captains, two first lieutenants, two second lieutenants, and a lot of sergeants and corporals. I want to see you a captain at least.”

“That’s kind.”

“I’d rather see you an officer than that Dan Baxter. Do you know, Jack, I don’t like that chap at all.”

“No more do I. He is very overbearing. I heard him bossing some of the little fellows around in regular slave-driver style.”

“Well, he shan’t boss me around.”

“Oh, it’s not likely he’ll bother the big boys,” came from Jack Ruddy, as he arose from his chair and stretched himself. “Those chaps usually make the little fellows toady to them. What time is it?”

“Just five o’clock.”

“Then come on down to the lake and have a row before supper.”

At that moment something soft, thrown up through the open dormitory window, struck Jack Ruddy on the shirt bosom. It was a lump of mud, and it left quite a mark behind.

“Hi, there, who threw that?” he cried, angrily, as he rushed for the window. He was just in time to see a lank youth diving out of sight behind some bushes.

“I know that lad,” came from Pepper Ditmore. “His name is John Fenwick, but they call him Mumps.”

“I’ll Mumps him!” retorted Jack Ruddy. “Come on!” And he rushed out of the dormitory, and down the broad stairway three steps at a time. He was just near the bottom when he passed a tall and rather sour-looking teacher, who was coming up.

“Master Ruddy, not so fast——” began the teacher, when of a sudden Pepper Ditmore struck the man on the shoulder, hurling him flat on his back at the foot of the stairs.

“Oh, excuse me, Mr. Crabtree!” burst out the cadet. “I—er—I didn’t mean to run into you!”

“Yo—you imp!” spluttered Josiah Crabtree. “What do you mean by tearing downstairs like a—a cyclone?”

“We’re after a fellow who threw some mud up into our room,” explained Jack Ruddy.

“I didn’t see you coming,” added Pepper. “Very sorry—it shan’t occur again.”

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