“I am not to blame for it, fellows,” repeated Dick. “I did just as I was told to do, as nearly as I could. I know I did not succeed in stopping Don Gordon, and I don’t believe there is a boy in school who could have stopped him; but I did my best.”

“I hope you see now what you have done by your meddling,” exclaimed Tom, turning fiercely upon Duncan. “You are not at all to blame, Dick; only another time don’t take any private orders from anybody. We all run the same risk, and we ought all to have a word to say in regard to the manner in which things shall be conducted.”

“If Dick had stopped Gordon, as I told him to do, this thing never would have happened,” said Duncan, as soon as he had had time to collect his wits.

“There’s where I differ with you,” answered 153Tom. “The fact that Gordon wasn’t stopped does not in the least alter the case, so far as these bolts are concerned. If Don had been caught, the bolts would have been put on all the same, and, furthermore, you and I and all the rest of us would have had to stand a court-martial, for Don would have gone back on us as sure as you are a foot high. Dick ought to have let him pass.”

“And I would, too, if Clarence hadn’t told me to halt him,” exclaimed Dick.

“I know it. Duncan is the one we have to thank for the loss of many pleasant evenings we might have had this winter. We may as well throw away our keys, for they will be of no further use to us, now that the doors are to be bolted on the inside.”

“I don’t know why you should take on so about those bolts,” exclaimed Duncan, who began to think he had been scolded quite enough. “If we wanted to go to Cony’s to-night, what is there to hinder one of us from slipping up the stairs as soon as this man goes away, and drawing the bolts? Don’t throw away your key yet, Tom. It may come handy to you.”

154Fisher, who was too angry to reply, turned on his heel and walked away. Before many hours had passed all the boys belonging to the “set” had heard about the bolts, and listened with no little indignation to the story of Clarence Duncan’s “meddling”—all except Don Gordon, who did not know that he was the victim of misplaced confidence. The fellows were careful to keep that from his ears for fear that he and Clarence would come to blows over it. Some of them, would have looked upon a fight between these two as an interesting spectacle; but they knew that it would be followed by a court of inquiry, during which some things they wanted to keep concealed would probably be brought to light. They had learned that it was not quite safe to trust their friend Duncan too far; and as for Don, he was a stranger, and there was no telling how he would act or what he would say when he was told that he could take his choice between answering such questions as were propounded to him, and being punished by expulsion from the school.

“That would bring him to his senses,” said Tom to some of his cronies who had gathered 155about him to talk over the situation. “He says he wouldn’t blow on us, but I don’t believe a word of it. There isn’t a boy in school who can stand defiant in the presence of the superintendent when he draws down those gray eyebrows of his and looks at a fellow as if he meant to pierce him through. Hallo! here comes Henderson with more news. He’s a bully little scout, even if he did come near getting us all into trouble by halting Don Gordon. What is it this time, Dick?”

“We may as well follow your advice and throw away our keys, for they are of no use to us now,” was Dick’s reply. “The officer of the day goes up and tries those doors and examines the new fastenings as regularly as he makes his rounds.”

“There!” exclaimed Tom, in great disgust. “You see what Duncan has brought us to by being so smart. No more pancakes for us.”

During the next few weeks nothing happened at the academy that is worthy of record. Duncan and Don Gordon had rather a lonely time of it, for the members of the “set” were not as cordial toward them as they used to be. They did 156not cut them entirely, for they did not think that would be quite safe; but they did not seek them out and associate with them as freely as they would if they had been on friendly terms. Duncan took it very much to heart, but Don did not seem to care. He studied and drilled with the rest, and having served the sentence that had been passed upon him for overstaying the time for which his leave of absence was granted, he began to feel and act more like himself. So did Bert, who soon began to count his friends by the score. They were true friends, too, and very unlike the boys who belonged to Tom Fisher’s crowd.

It was not long before the Plebes began to show the result of their regular and fatiguing drills. They became handy with their muskets, very proficient in company and battalion evolutions, and, finally, they were ordered to go on dress parade. This honor brought with it a duty from which they had thus far been exempt, that of standing guard.

Up to this time Cony Ryan had been deserted by all except a very few of his old patrons who sometimes passed an hour or two there of a 157Saturday afternoon; but they never came away without telling one another that they had not enjoyed themselves in the least—that their visits now were not at all like the jolly times they used to have when they crowded into his little parlor after creeping by the sentries. There had been none of that sort of work of late. The sight of the bolts the carpenter had put on the doors, and the increased vigilance of the officer of the day, had taken all the courage out of the bravest of them; at least so it seemed, for no one ever thought of running the guard now. Tom Fisher had almost forgotten that he had ever done such a thing, when one day he was approached by Don Gordon, who beckoned him off on one side.

“Look here, old fellow,” said Don, “you’ll dry up and blow away if you don’t have some excitement to put your blood in circulation. If you want to go down to Cony’s again, to-night is your time.”

“But the bolts!” exclaimed Tom, greatly surprised.

“The bolts won’t delay you five minutes,” replied Don, confidently. “I haven’t been idle 158during the last few days, and I have found a way to draw those bolts.”

“I could do it myself by going up the back stairs,” said Tom; “but the officer of the day would find it out the first time he made his round. Besides, we want to get in after we have gone out, and how would we throw those bolts back to their place when the door was closed behind us? Have you thought of that?”

“I have; but I can show you how it can be done easier than I can explain it to you. We can’t go up to my floor to operate, for Bert is standing guard there. Who’s on your floor?”

“Clarence Duncan.”

“Are you willing to trust him? I notice that you and he are not quite as thick as you used to be.”

“I’ve got to trust him whether I am willing or not. If I should go back on him entirely he would find a way to get me into a row that would send me down.”

“I don’t see how he could make anything by that. He is as deep in the mud as you are, and he would probably be sent down himself.”

“He wouldn’t care for that. He’ll go any 159lengths to injure a boy he hates. That’s his style. I have managed to keep up a show of friendship with him, and I know he will let you do anything you like on his floor. Come on.”

Clarence, who was seated in his chair reading a sensational story paper that one of the students had smuggled into the academy, nodded to Tom, returned Don’s salute, and would probably have paid no further attention to them had he not seen them turn into the hall that led to the fire-escape. This excited his curiosity and he arose and followed them.

“What are you going to do here?” he demanded.

“Gordon has discovered a way to open these doors,” replied Tom.

“Not from this side,” exclaimed Duncan.

“Yes, from this side,” said Don. “I have done it once, and I know I can do it again.”

Duncan, who believed that the feat could not possibly be accomplished, was unable to find words with which to express his surprise. He could only look bewildered. He took up a position in the main hall so that he could watch the stairs and guard against intrusion, and occasionally 160turned his eyes toward Don, whose proceedings he watched with the greatest interest.

Don’s first act was to produce his pocket-knife, with which he removed from the lower left-hand corner of the panel above the lock a round plug of wood, which fitted into a hole about half an inch in diameter. The top of the plug was painted white, like the door, and it filled the opening so accurately that the different officers of the day, who had probably looked at it a hundred times since it had been placed there, had never seen it. Don then pulled out of his pocket a short, crooked wire, one end of which was bent into the form of a hook and the other made into the shape of a ring. The hook he inserted into the hole in the panel, and a moment later the bolt was heard to slide from its socket.

“There you are,” said he, turning to Tom. “Now, take out your key and open the door.”

Tom obeyed, lost in wonder, and then he and Duncan stepped forward to see how Don’s invention worked. Simple as it was, it was admirably adapted to the purpose for which it was intended. “The only difficult thing about it,” said Don, in explanation, “is to get the hook around the knob 161of the bolt. That done, a simple turn of the wrist does the rest.”

“Gordon, you’re a good one,” exclaimed Tom. “You ought to be a Yankee.”

“This is a Yankee invention—at least a New England carpenter was the one who brought it to my notice,” answered Don, as Fisher closed and locked the door. “While he was doing some work on our plantation, our smoke-house and corn-cribs were robbed more than a dozen times. It seemed impossible for father to get locks that could not be picked or broken. The carpenter said he could put a stop to that business, and he did it by making some heavy wooden bolts, working on the same principle that this one does, only there were three or four knobs in them instead of one. Then he made a key, in shape something like this one of mine, and when we wanted to shut up for the night, all we had to do was to throw the bolts to their places, take out the wire, and the doors were fast. There was but one way to pass them, and that was to break them down; and if anybody had tried that he would have got himself into business directly, for I own some dogs that won’t permit any such doings.”

162“Well, I’ve locked the door,” said Tom, when Don ceased speaking, “and now I’d like to see you throw that bolt back again. That’s important, you know.”

Don said he knew it. He thrust his wire through the opening again, and in a second more the bolt was shot into its socket. In order to make sure of it, Tom unlocked the door again and tried to op............