"He wanted me to jump into bed and go down plump on all those
caps, and then squirm there until after taps inspection," grinned
Prescott as he swiftly removed the stuff. "It would have been a
tough one, too--but now I guess I have a tougher proposition on my
hands."
Prescott sighed a trifle as he hastily undressed, placing his clothing
according to the regulations on the subject.
Just as he had finished taps sounded on the drum outside. Dick
turned off his gas, bounded into bed and lay there as the door
opened and the bull's-eye lantern of the subdivision inspector
flashed into the room.
"All right here, sir, or accounted for," Dick remarked to the
inspector, who hastily closed the door and hurried along on his
rounds.
True to the medical officer's promise Greg was discharged from
hospital the following morning, and permitted to report back to
full duty.
"What's this I hear, Dick, old ramrod?" Greg demanded as soon as
the chums were back in quarters from breakfast. "The news is
flying around fast that Mr. Spurlock is going to call you out."
"I expect that he is," Dick admitted ruefully, and then told his
chum all the details of the occurrence of the night before.
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