If Cadet Corporal Murray had any doubts about the necessity for putting this very dirty scheme into practice, or if his not over squeamish conscience was the least bit troubled by the prospect, something happened that same evening which effectually squelched such ideas. It was after supper, during half an hour of so-called "rest," which is allowed to the over-drilled plebe. Mr. Murray, in whose manly breast still burned a fire of rage at the insult which "B. J." Dewey had offered him, resolved in his secret heart that that same insult must and should be avenged. That evening he thought an especially favorable time, for Dewey was still an "invalid," as a result of his last B. J. effort.  
With this purpose in view, Cadet Murray stole away from his companions and set out for barracks, around which the luckless plebes were clustered. Arriving there, he hunted; he spent quite a while in hunting, for the object of his search was nowhere to be seen. He caught[Pg 172] sight of Mark and his "gang," but Dewey was not among them. When he did find him at last it was a good way from that place—way up on Flirtation Walk; and then Cadet Murray got down to business at once.
 
"Look a here, B. J. beast!" he called.
 
The object of this peremptory challenge turned, as also did his companion, the terrified Indian—once more about to be hazed. The two stared at the yearling; a lady and gentleman passing glanced at him also, probably wondering what was in store for the luckless plebes; and then they passed on, leaving the place lonely, and deserted, just the spot for the proposed work. So thought the yearling, as he rubbed his hands gleefully and spoke again.
 
"Beast!" said he, "I want to tell you that you were very impudent to me to-day!"
 
"Strange coincidence!" cried Dewey, with one of his merry laughs. "Reminds me of a story I once heard, b'gee. Two old farmers got stuck in a snowdrift—five feet deep, and getting deeper. Says one of 'em, b'gee, 'It's c-c-c-cold!' 'B'gee!' cried the other. 'B'gee, naow ain't that pecooliar! Jes' exactly what I was goin' to say myself, b'gee!'"
 
[Pg 173]Cadet Murray listened to this blithe recital with a frowning brow.
 
"You think that's funny, don't you!" he sneered.
 
"No, b'gee!" laughed Dewey, "because I didn't write it. 'Nother fellow told me that—the queerest chap I think I ever knew, he was. Had a mother-in-law that used to——"
 
"Shut up!" cried Murray, in anger, seeing that he was being "guyed."
 
"B'gee!" cried Dewey, "that's just what she didn't!"
 
There was an ominous silence after that, during which the yearling glared angrily, and Indian muttered "Bless my soul!"
 
"It's quite evident," began the former, at last, "that you are inclined to be fresh."
 
"Ink-lined to be fresh," added Dewey, "as the stamped egg remarked when it was dated three days after it was laid. That's another far-fetched joke, though. Still I've heard some more far-fetched than that—one a friend of mine read on an Egyptian pyramid and brought h............