CHAPTER XIV.
THE STORY CARRIED ON THE WIND "Oh, I fixed it all right," insisted Jordan confidently.
He was speaking in a rather low tone, but the breeze carried every word to the ears of the listeners.
"You're talking just to hear yourself talking," sneered the stranger coarsely.
"No; I'm not, Henckley," retorted the cadet.
"What was the trick, then ?" "Don't you wish you knew ?" laughed Jordan.
"I don't care much," replied the stranger named Henckley.

"But I can't just picture you as doing anything extremely clever.
Even if it was luck, as you say, I can't figure how you were smart enough to know how to profit by it.

That's why I'm just a bit curious, but no more." "Why, you see, it happened this way," went on Jordan.

"I saw Prescott, that night back into camp, going into the tent of the O.C.

I thought that perhaps Prescott was going there in order to say more about the matter that he had reported me for that forenoon.