asleep.
"Now then, come on," said Sam, and led the way to carry out the
anticipated fun.
CHAPTER III
THE DOINGS OF A NIGHT
As luck would have it, William Philander Tubbs just then occupied a
tent alone, his two tent-mates being on guard duty for two hours as was
the custom during encampment.
The aristocratic cadet lay flat on his back, with his face and throat well
exposed.
"Now, be careful, Sam, or you'll wake him up," whispered Tom.
One cadet held a candle, while Sam and Tom blackened the face of the
sleeping victim of the joke. The burnt cork was in excellent condition
and soon William Philander looked for all the world like a coal-black
darkey.
"Py chimanatics, he could go on der stage py a nigger minstrel
company," was Hans Mueller's comment.
"Makes almost a better nigger than he does a white man," said Tom,
dryly.
"Wait a minute till I fix up his coat for him," said Fred Garrison, and
turned the garment inside out.
A moment later all of the cadets withdrew, leaving the tent in total
darkness. Then one stuck his head in through the flap.
"Hi, there, Private Tubbs!" he called out. "Wake up!"
"What--ah--what's the mattah?" drawled the aristocratic cadet, sleepily.
"Captain Putnam wants you to report to him or to Mr. Strong at once,"
went on the cadet outside, in a heavy, assumed voice.
"Wants me to report?" questioned Tubbs, sitting up in astonishment.
"Yes, and at once. Hurry up, for it's very important."
"Well, this is assuredly strange," murmured William Philander to
himself. "Wonder what is up?"
He felt around in the dark for a light, but it had been removed by Tom
and so had all the matches.
"Beastly luck, not a match!" growled Tubbs, and then began to dress in
the dark. In his hurry he did not notice that his coat was inside out, nor
did he discover that his face and hands were blacked.
Captain Putnam's quarters were at the opposite end of the camp, and in
that direction William Philander hurried until suddenly stopped by a
guard who chanced to be coming in from duty.
"Halt!" cried the cadet. "What are you doing in this camp?" he
demanded.
"Captain Putnam wants me," answered Tubbs, thinking the guard
wanted to know why he was astir at that hour of the night.
"Captain Putnam wants you?"
"Yes."
"It's strange. How did you get in?"
"In? In where?"
"In this camp?"
"Oh, Ribble, are you crazy?"
"So you know me," said Ribble. "Well, I must say I don't know you."
"You certainly must be crazy. I am William Philander Tubbs."
"What! Oh, then you--" stammered Ribble, and then a light dawned on
him. "Who told you the captain wanted to see you?"
"Some cadet who just woke me up."
"All right, go ahead then," and Ribble grinned. Behind Tubbs he now
saw half a dozen cadets hovering in the semi-darkness, watching for
sport.
On ran William Philander, to make up for lost time, and soon arrived at
the flap of the tent occupied by Captain Putnam.
"Here I am, Captain Putnam!" he called out. And then, as he got no
reply, he called again. By this time the captain was awake, and coming
to the flap, he peered out.
"What do you want?" he asked, sharply. "You sent for me, sir,"
stammered Tubbs.
"I sent for you?"
"Yes, sir."
"I have no recollection of so doing," answered Captain Putman. "Where
are you from?"
"From?"
"Exactly."
"Why, I am--ah--from this camp," answered the puzzled Tubbs.
"Do you mean to tell me you belong here?" questioned the now
astonished master of Putnam Hall.
"Of course, Captain Putnam. Didn't you send for me? Somebody said
you did," continued William Philander.
"Sir, I don't know you and never heard of you, so far as I can remember.
You must be mixed up.
"I mixed up? I guess you are mixed up," roared Tubbs, growing angry.
"If I don't belong to this camp, where do I belong?"
"How should I know? We have no negroes here, to the best of my
knowledge."
"Captain Putnam, what do you mean by calling me an--ah--negro?"
fumed William Philander.
"Well, aren't you one? I can't see very well."
"No, sir; I am not a negro, and never was a negro," answered Tubbs,
getting more and more excited. "I shall report this to my parents when I
arrive home."
"Will you in all goodness tell me your name?" queried Captain Putnam,
beginning to realize that something was wrong.
"You know my name well enough, sir."
"Perhaps I do, and perhaps I don't. Answer me, please."
"My name is William Philander Tubbs."
"Tubbs! Is it possible!"
"Somebody came to my tent and said you wanted to see me."
"Well, did you
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