If you don't know what I'm going to do about it, wait until you hear from me, mister!" Turning, very erect and stiff, in his outraged dignity, Mr.Butler left the tent.
"Now, what on earth have I done, anyway ?" wondered Greg.
In his perplexity he stepped to the doorway of his tent.

He saw the business-like arrangement of the cord, and all was clear to him, now.
"Some hazer has rigged that cord and tied one end to my finger," gasped Plebe Holmes.
Then a grin overspread his face.
"Well, it was mighty clever, anyway." An instant more, and the grin gave place to a serious look.
"Clever or not, it certainly spells trouble for me." When the cadets returned from breakfast in the morning, and while Greg was finishing the donning of field uniform for a forenoon of drill, a shadow fell across the doorway of the tent.
Prescott and Anstey were still members of the guard, and therefore absent.
"Mr.Holmes, I wish to speak with you," announced Mr.Haldane, of the yearling class.
"Will you come in, sir ?" Haldane stepped just inside the tent, standing severely erect and gazing coldly at the plebe.
"Mr.Butler demands a fight with you, mister, and as early as possible." There was no mention of possible apology.

Evidently Mr.Butler considered the affair one that could be remedied only by blows.
"Mr.Haldane, I don't wish to ask much delay.

But the two friends whom I shall want to represent me are on guard duty at present.
May I ask that you see Mr.Prescott ?" "Very good," acknowledged Mr.Haldane, and left the tent.
"Now, I'm in for it," muttered Greg ruefully.

"And the queer part of it is that I have to fight for a thing that I never did.