"I have a message for you from Mr. Woods, Mr. Graham," was all that Jennings had said, "and will see you after you march off guard."
Pops well knew what that meant. From many a graduate, and especially from Mr. McCrea, he had heard full account of the West Point method of settling such matters. It differed very little from that described by that manliest of Christians, Mr. Thomas Hughes, in his incomparable boy-story, _Tom Brown's School-Days at Rugby_, and Pops had never a doubt as to what his course would have to be. It was one point he could not and would not discuss with his mother, and one which his father never mentioned. Pops had said just what he meant to Mr. Woods, and he meant to stand by what he had said.
But meantime other yearlings proposed to make it lively for him on post that night, did they? Well, Geordie clinched his teeth, and set his square, sunburned jaws, and gripped his rifle firmly as the relief went tramping away down the long vista under the trees. The full moon was high in the heavens, and camp was wellnigh as light as day. A nice time they would have stealing upon him unawares, said he to himself; but his heart kept thumping hard. It was very late—long after one. Only at the guard-tents was there a lamp or candle burning. It was very still. Only the long, regular breathing of some sleepers close at hand in the tents of Company A, the distant rumble of freight trains winding through the Highlands, or the soft churning of the waters by some powerful tow-boat, south bound with its fleet of barges, broke upon the night.
Mr. Allen, officer in charge, had visited the guard just before their relief was on, and, going back to his tent, had extinguished his lamp, and presumably turned in. It was very warm, and many of the corps had raised their tent walls; so, too, had Lieutenant Webster, the army officer commanding Company A, and Pops could see the lieutenant himself lying on his camp-cot sleeping the sleep of the just. His post—Number Three—extended from the north end of the color-line, on which Numbers Two and Six were now pacing, closed in around camp for the night, down along the north side, skirting the long row of tents of Company A; then, with the black, deep ditch of Fort Clinton on the left hand, the gravelled pathway ran straight eastward under the great spreading trees, past the wall tent of the cadet first captain; beyond that the double tent of the adjutant; then near at hand was the water-tank; and farther east, close to the path, the three tents of the bootblacks and varnishers.