"Well, sir, I've come to ask what you propose to do about it."

It was the pompous old squire, and he stood once more in the superintendent's office, impatience written in every line of his face.

"Yes, sir," he continued, "I should like to know your decision."

"But, my dear sir," exclaimed Colonel Harvey, "I have not made up my mind entirely. It is only yesterday you stated your case. What is the hurry?"

"Hurry, sir?" returned the squire, "I am in a hurry for my rights. I mean that my son shall have the cadetship he has earned."

"Where is your son?" inquired the other, after a moment's thought.

"He is up at the hotel," answered the squire. "Why?"

"I should like to see him for just a moment. I have one question to ask him, if you please. I'll send an orderly for him."

The old man bowed stiffly; he sat up very straight in his chair and waited with dignity until his young hopeful appeared, wondering meanwhile what more the obdurate officer could want.

Master Benjamin entered the room obviously pale and flushed. He did not feel very well as the result of his last night's "manliness," and he had dim visions of robbers and stolen papers besides. He bowed to his father and the grave superintendent.

"Take a seat," said the latter. "I shall not keep you long. Take this pen and paper. I am anxious to see your handwriting. Please write these words as I dictate them."

Benny, puzzled and alarmed, prepared to obey; he saw that the army officer was watching him narrowly, which did not increase his ease of manner.

"Write," said Colonel Harvey, "I—promise—to—pay-to—Nick—— What's the matter?"

Benny had begun to write promptly. At the sixth word he had turned pale as death, and his hand was trembling.

"What's the matter?" thundered the colonel again. "Why don't you write?"

"I—I——" stammered Benny. "I'm not very well."

"I should say not!" responded the other, angrily. "Let me see that paper."

He took it from the trembling lad's hand."Is that your son's handwriting?" he demanded, turning to the squire.

Old Mr. Bartlett glanced at it quickly, a look of amazement upon his face.

"No," he said, "it isn't. Benny, why don't you write in your usual way? Why don't you do as the gentleman tells you? And what's the meaning of this, anyway?"

Benny took the pen again, this time weakly.

"I'll write it," he said. "Here."

Colonel Harvey dictated it again relentlessly.

"I—promise—to—pay—to—Nick—Flynn—one—hundred—dollars—when M.—M.—is—fired. Benjamin Bartlett. Received—payment—July—13. Nick Flynn."

The officer took the result, laid it on his desk and took another from his pocket to compare.

"That settles it," said he, looking up at last. "Conspiracy."

"What does this mean, sir?" demanded the angry old squire, who had been waxing more and more impatient under the ordeal. "Why should my son be insulted like a common criminal? Why——"

"Because he is one," responded the other, just as warmly. "Look at those two papers, sir! Your son wrote both, and I know it."

"Where did you get that other?"

"The story is briefly told," said Colonel Harvey. "Two cadets of my academy turned highwaymen yesterday and held up your son at the point of a revolver. I presume he has told you."

"So that's who it was!" cried the furious squire. "So that's the kind of cadets you have! I shall have them both in jail."

"You will not," laughed the other, "for several reasons. In the first place, you do not know who they are, and I do not propose to tell you. In the second, if you do, your son is guilty of conspiracy, and I shall see him punished for that."

"This is preposterous!" exclaimed Squire Bartlett. "That paper proves absolutely nothing——"

"His manner when I asked him to write it, and his attempt to disguise his hand, prove a good deal to me. It proves to me, sir, that he is lying, and that you are a very foolish and indulgent father to believe him as you do. He has lied to me and to you, and he lies still when he denies it. Look at him cower now, sir! I knew that this whole thing was an outrageous plot the very moment the cadets showed me that paper this morning. One of them is one of my most trusted officers, and I believe his account. And what is more——"

Here the colonel stopped and glared at Benny.

"I say this for the benefit of your son, who evidently hates Mark Mallory. I believed and was glad to believe, that Mallory, who is the finest lad I had seen for many a day, is as honest as he is brave. And I shall take great pleasure in telling him so, and in apologizing for my doubts. And in conclusion——"

Colonel Harvey arose to his feet and bowed.

"I bid you a good-day, Squire Bartlett. Cadet Mallory will not be expelled from this academy, if I can help it."

And Benny and the squire left West Point that morning, which was the end of Mark's peril in that direction.