Reporting, Mr.Butler saw the time noted by the amanuensis of the guard.
Then, feeling really sleepy, the yearling continued at a rather brisk walk to the head of his company street, and turned down.
Just as luck would have it Mr.Butler did not pass on Greg's side of the street, but passed rather close to the tent opposite.
Certainly the yearling's eyes were not on the ground.

He saw not the cord on this side of the street.
There was a catch, a trip, and Mr.Butler went to the ground, mussing the knees of his spooniest pair of white ducks.

Moreover, he cut the palm of his right hand, slightly, on a sharp pebble.
The pulling on the cord gave Greg's right hand a sharp yank, awakening the innocent plebe.
But Mr.Butler, having swiftly discovered the cord, and having ascertained in what direction it ran, made a dive into the tent just in time to see Greg sitting up on his mattress, holding the cord.
"So, mister," gruffed the yearling, "is this the way you amuse yourself late at night ?" "Why--what--" stammered Cadet Holmes.
"Now, don't try any of that on me," urged Mr.Butler angrily.
"Mister, you're caught with the freight in your possession.

What are you holding that cord for, sir ?" "I--I don't know, sir," quavered Greg, who was just beginning to feel awake after his rudely disturbed slumber.
"You--don't--know!" retorted Mr.Butler, in high dudgeon.
"What--what has happened, sir ?" inquired Greg.
To Mr.Butler this seemed very much like adding insult to injury.
"You thought it was funny, did you, mister, to rig a cord across the company street ?" raged the yearling, though he kept his voice down to a gentlemanly pitch.

"You play tricks like that on upper class men.