"It is most unfortunate for Mr.Jordan that he has not a better excuse.

You will go to Mr.Jordan's tent, Mr.Prescott, and direct him to remain in his tent, in close arrest, until he hears as to the further disposition of his case by the commandant of cadets." "Very good, sir," Prescott answered, saluting.
"And then you may go to your own tent and retire, Mr.Prescott.
I fancy the plebes have been good to-night." "Thank you, sir." With a rather heavy heart, though outwardly betraying no sign, Prescott walked along until he reached Jordan's tent, where he delivered the order from the O.C.
"Did you hear that, old man ?" growled Jordan to his tentmate, after the cadet captain had gone.
"Pretty rough!" returned the tentmate sleepily.
Rough?
The first class was seething when it received the word next morning, for it was the common belief that Prescott must have shadowed and followed his classmate in order to entrap him.
"It's surely time for class action now," Durville told several of his classmates..