That night—a bitter cold December night it was—Pops had just finished telling Ames of the strange state of things as he found them on his visit to Frazier; the tattoo drums were hammering through the area and drowning other sounds; the inspector of the upper subdivision had come down into Bend's room to have a chat with his fellow-officer, when the drums stopped with one abrupt and unanimous slam, and as they did so Graham's eyes dilated, and he sprang to his feet.
A gasping, half-articulate cry and the sound of scuffling feet came from the third floor. Geordie could have sworn he heard his name. Out he went, up the iron stairs he flew, and into utter darkness. The hall light was doused as his foot spurned the lowermost step. Whirling at the head of the stairs, he sped to Frazier's door, other cadets rushing at his heels. There was Benny, with livid face, struggling in the grasp of his burly room-mate, whose muscular hands were choking, strangling at poor Frazier's throat. One blow from Graham's fist sent the big bully reeling across the room; while Benny, suddenly released, fell all of a heap on the floor.
"You brute! How dare you grapple a little fellow like that?" was all Pops had time to say before Bend and his lieutenant came bounding in behind him.
"Back, Jennings! _Down_ with him!" ordered Bend, as the maddened "tough" sprang to the arm-rack and seized his rifle. Half a dozen hands collared him before he could draw the bayonet. He backed into a corner, his young captain facing him.
"Stand where you are, sir," was the stern order. "What does all this mean? What has he done to you, Frazier?"
Geordie and Ames were raising Benny by this time. He was faint, bleeding at the mouth and ears, speechless, and out of breath.
"Give him some water and lay him down on the bed. Don't crowd around him. He needs air. Get out, all of you!" and Bend turned on the rapidly increasing crowd. "Back to your quarters!" And then the rattle of cadet swords could be heard against the iron stairway—the sergeant of the guard racing to the scene, followed by the officer of the day.
"He insulted and defied me," growled Jennings, glowering about on the circle of hostile faces. "He insulted my people, my kith and kin. I dare him to deny it, or to tell what led to this. Take your hands off of me, you fellows; I'm no criminal. If you're laying for a thief, there's your game yonder," he said, indicating his prostrate room-mate.