CHAPTER XXIII.
THE "COMMITTEE ON CLASS HONOR" At a few minutes after eleven, that same April night, five cadets fully dressed stole down the corridor, and the leader laid a hand on Dodge's doorknob.
In another moment they had stepped inside and their arrival awakened Cadet Brayton.
"Plebes' quarters next floor up, brothers," called Brayton in drowsy good nature.
"I'm sorry to say, Brayton, we're on the right floor, and in the right room," responded Dunstan.

"But this visit won't bother you!" The noise of voices awoke Bert Dodge with start.

He awoke with a snort, then sat bolt upright, peering in the dark.
"Wh---who's there ?" he demanded hoarsely.
"A committee on class honor, Mr.Dodge," replied Furlong, while Anstey added, with ironic politeness: "Don't be alahmed, suh.

We do not believe you to be possessed, suh, of any of the commodity of which we are in search." "Brayton" asked Greg, "will you be good enough to slip into your bathrobe and hang your blankets over the window?
Then we can have some light.

That's one thing we're going to need," he added significantly.
"Don't you do it, Bray," broke in Dodge stiffly.