That beautiful July evening, while those precious rascals sat whispering and discussing the details of their plan, while first classmen and yearlings were all down in the academy building at the "hop," a certain plebe sat in a tent of Company A, all by himself. A candle flickered beside him, and he held a writing pad in his hand. The plebe was Mark, his clear-cut, handsome features shining in the yellow light.

"Dear Mother," he was writing. "It is hard for one to get time to write a letter here. We plebes have so much to do. But I have promised you to write once a week, and so I have stolen off from my friends to drop you a line.

"This is the fifth letter I have written now, the close of the fifth week. And I like West Point as much as I ever did. You know how much that is. You know how I have worked and striven for this chance I have. West Point has always been the goal of all my hopes, and I am still happy to have reached it. If I should forfeit my chance now, it would be by my own fault, I think; I know that it would break my heart.

"We plebes have to work hard nowadays. They wake us up at five with a big gun, and after that it is drill all day. But I like it, for I am learning lots of things. If[Pg 266] you could see me sweeping and dusting I know you would laugh. Texas says if 'the boys' saw him they'd lynch him 'sho'.

"I told you a lot about Texas the last time I wrote. He is the most delightful character I have ever met in my life. He is just fresh from the plains, and his cowboy ways of looking at things keep me laughing all day. But he is just as true as steel, and as fine a friend as I ever knew.

"I believe I told you all about the Banded Seven, the secret society we have gotten up to stop hazing. Well, we are having high jinks with 'the ole ya'rlin's,' as Texas calls them. We have outwitted them at every point, and I think they are about ready to give up in despair. We plebes even went to the hop the other night. I can hear the music of the hop now as it comes over the parade ground. It is very alluring, so you must appreciate this letter all the more.

"I shan't tell you about the fight I had, for it would worry you. And I haven't time to tell you how I saved the life of a girl last week. I inclose a newspaper clipping about it, but you mustn't believe it was so absurdly heroic. The girl's father is a very rich man here, and, mother, she is very sweet and attractive. She has joined the Seven to help me fool the yearlings.

"I guess I shall have to stop now. I hear some sounds that make me think it is time for tattoo, and besides, I am getting very homesick, writing to you way out in Colorado. You need not be fearing any rival to my affections, mother dear, even if I am fond of Grace Fuller. I wish I could see you just once to-night to tell you how much I miss you. And I am still

"Your devoted son,
"Mark."

[Pg 267]Mark laid down his pencil with a sigh. He folded the letter and sealed it, and then arose slowly to his feet. Outside of his tent he heard quick steps and voices, and a moment later the rattle of a drum broke forth.

"Tattoo," he observed. "I thought so."

He turned toward the door as the flap was pushed aside—and a tall, slender lad entered, a lad with bronzed, sun-tanned features and merry gray eyes.

"Hello, Texas!" said Mark.

"Hello," growled Texas. "Look a yere! What do you mean by runnin' off an' hidin' all evenin'? I been a huntin' you everywhere."

"I've been right here," said Mark, "writing a letter home. Did you want me to go to the hop?"

"No, I didn't. But I wanted you to tell me all 'bout that crazy Mary Adams last night an' what you did. You ain't had time to tell me all day."

Mark told him the story then. They were still discussing it when they turned out and lined up for roll call; and that ceremony being over, they scattered again, Texas still eagerly asking questions about the strange affair.

Taps sounded half an hour later—ten o'clock—"lights out and all quiet." They stopped then.

Sentry No. 3 that night was "Baby" Edwards. His beat lay along the northern edge of the camp, skirting the[Pg 268] tents of Company A. And Baby Edwards let quite a number pass his beat that night.

For instance, he was on duty from midnight until two. It was bright moonlight then, and Baby could have seen any one who crossed his post; but he heard a signaling whistle and faced out in order not to see any one. The person who entered was a boy clad in a blue uniform, an "orderly," as they are called.

He ran silently and swiftly in and made straight for one tent. When he got there he hesitated not a moment, but stepped in and crept up to one of the sleepers.

It was Mark who awoke at his touch, and Mark sat up in alarm and stared at him.

"Sh!" said the boy. "Sh! Don't wake any one."

"What do you want?" Mark demanded.

"I've a letter, sir, a letter from her again."

Mark stared at the boy and recognized him at once as a messenger who had given him a note from Mary Adams about a month ago. And he sprang to his feet in surprise.

"She writing again!" he whispered. "Quick, give it to me."

He broke the seal, stepped to the tent door, where, in the white moonlight, he could read every letter plainly. And this was what he saw:[Pg 269]

"Dear Mr. Mallory: Oh, once more I have to write you to call upon you for aid. You cannot imagine the terrible distress I am in. And I have no one to call upon but you. If you respect me as a woman, come to my aid to-night and at once. And come alone, for I could not bear to have any one but you know of my terrible affliction. Oh, please do not fail me! You may imagine my state of mind when I write you like this. And let me call myself

Your friend,
"Mary Adams."

Mark finished the reading of that letter in amazement, even alarm.

"Did she give you this?" he demanded of the boy.

"Yes, sir, she did, not five minutes ago," replied the lad. "And she told me to run. She seemed scared to death, sir, and I know she'd been crying."

Mark stared into his earnest face a moment, and then he turned away in thought.

"You may go," he said to the boy. "I know my way to her house alone."

The lad disappeared; and Mark, without a moment's hesitation, went over and woke one of the cadets.

"Wake up, Texas," he whispered. "Wake up and read this."

Texas arose from his couch in surprise and sleepy alarm. He read the letter, gasping; then he stared at Mark.

"Do you think she wrote it?" he inquired.

[Pg 270]That problem was puzzling Mark, too. He had received two letters before from the girl, under exactly similar circumstances. One had been a trick of the cadets to lure him out. The other had been genuine, and had resulted in Mark's saving the girl's brother from disgrace and ruin. But which was this?

Mark made up his mind quickly.

"I think she wrote it, old man," he said. "The drum boy who gave me this gave me the other she wrote, too, and he swears she wrote this. He said she was frightened and............