that bit of writing as soon as I could,” said he. “My, but wasn’t it mean of old Crabtree to make me do it! But wait, I’ll get square on him!”

“Pep, we met that strange sloop again,” said Jack, and told of what had been said.

“There’s a mystery there, that’s certain,” answered Pepper. “Perhaps we had better report to Captain Putnam.”

“It won’t do any harm.”

“Then come on now. We’ve got ten minutes before parade.”

Captain Putnam’s office was a finely furnished apartment, just off the main classroom. They found the master of the school engaged in writing a letter.

“Well, young gentlemen, what can I do for you?” he said cheerily as they entered.

“We’ve got something to tell you, sir,” they answered, and then Jack quietly related their story.

The master of Putnam Hall listened with close attention, and questioned each one of the party.

“This is certainly odd,” said he, meditatively. “Still, there may be nothing of importance in it. If you see the sloop hovering around again, let me know.”

“We will, sir,” answered Jack, and then he and his companions hurried off.

The drum was already rolling, and all of the cadets lost no time in getting out on the parade ground. It was a beautiful day in early October, with just enough of coolness to make it bracing.

“The battalion will fall into line!” was the command, from one of the old army officers present, and then the cadets of Company A and Company B took the places assigned to them.

“Company, attention!” was the command from the officer in charge of Company A, to which Jack, Pepper, and Andy belonged. And then followed a similar command to Company B.

While the battalion was at attention, Captain Putnam came forth and mounted a small stand that was handy.

“Young gentlemen,” said he, gazing, at the assembled cadets, “I have an announcement of importance to make to you. In the past you have been under the command of Captain Wilson and Lieutenants Plummer and Montgomery, who have drilled you thoroughly in the arts and duties of the soldier. These instructors will leave the Hall early next week, and then I intend to place the battalion in charge of such officers as you may select for yourselves.”

“Hurrah!” came the shout. “Three cheers for Captain Putnam!”

“Three cheers for Captain Wilson and his assistants!” was the added cry, and the cheers were given with a will.

“As you well know, ever since this school was organized I have been keeping a close watch on every cadet, to find out who was fit to take command. I have prepared a list of sixteen names, which you will find hung up in the general library and in the gymnasium. Of these names the first eight are eligible for the rank of major of the battalion, and all are eligible for the rank of captain, or first or second lieutenant. The position of sergeant or corporal may be filled by any cadet in the school. Voting for the various officers will take place to-morrow, directly after the regular school session.”

“Hurrah!” came another shout, as the captain stepped down.

“Battalion, attention!” came the command, a moment later. “Carry arms! Present arms! Support arms! Shoulder arms! Forward, march!”

“Tap! tap! tap-tap-tap!” went the drums, and off moved the young soldiers. They marched around the parade ground twice, and then into the mess-hall, where each cadet took his place at one or another of the long dining tables. It was a spirited scene, and one calculated to make the heart of each boy bound with enthusiasm.

“Your name is on that list, Jack,” whispered a cadet sitting near. “I saw Peleg Snuggers tacking it up in the gym as I came away.” Peleg Snuggers was the general utility man around Putnam Hall.

“I hope you are on it, too, Joe,” answered Jack.

“I am,” returned Joe Nelson, who was a quiet and studious cadet, hailing from Philadelphia. “And Andy Snow and Henry Lee are on it, too,” he went on. “I think——”

“Silence at the table!” broke in the rough voice of Josiah Crabtree. “If I hear any more of that, I’ll send you away without your supper!”

“Oh,” murmured Joe Nelson. It was rarely that he had any trouble with any of the teachers.

“Say, but old Crabtree is crusty enough to make pie of,” was Pepper’s whispered comment.

“Silence, I say!” thundered the first assistant. “I will have silence!” And he looked around the board so fiercely that hardly anybody dared to say another word.

At the next table sat Dan Baxter and Mumps, the sneak. The former scowled darkly at Jack and Andy, while the sneak put his tongue into his cheek at them.

“I’m going to fix Mumps,” whispered Pepper, who had been told of the occurrence in the school yard, and watching his chance, he leaned back in his chair and dropped a bit of sharp fish-bone down inside the sneak’s collar.

At first the sneak did not notice what had been done, but then he made a side turn and of a sudden uttered a yell of pain.

“Hi! who’s sticking me with a pin?” he roared. “Drop it!”

He glanced around, but the boys on both sides of him were busy with their eating.

“What is it, Master Fenwick?” questioned George Strong, the second assistant.

“Somebody stuck me with a——Oh, I’m stuck again! Oh! oh! Something is down my back!” And the sneak began to wiggle from side to side. “Oh, dear me!”

“You had better leave the room and find out what is the matter,” said the teacher, and still twisting and squirming, Mumps left the mess-hall in a hurry.

“Baxter, do you know anything of this?”

“No, sir.”

“It is strange; what could be the matter?”

There were a few minutes of silence, and then the sneak came back and dropped into his chair.

“It was a fish-bone—awfully sharp, too,” he said. “Somebody must have dropped it down my back, sir.”

There was a titter, in which our friends joined. Pepper winked at Jack, Andy, and Joe Nelson, and they understood.

As soon as the meal was over, the cadets rushed off to the library of Putnam Hall and to the gymnasium, to scan the list of names the master had mentioned.

“Bart Conners is at the head,” said Andy. “Harry Blossom comes next, Jack is third, Henry Lee fourth, myself fifth, Dave Kearney sixth, Stuffer Singleton next, and Dan Baxter next.”

“And those are the ones who may be made major,” came from a cadet named Dale Blackmore, one of the leading athletes of the academy.

“You are up next, Dale,” returned Jack. “That means you may become a captain.”

“I’d rather be captain of the football team,” answered Dale, with a smile.

As soon as the list was scanned, an animated discussion took place regarding the merits of the different candidates. As among men, and especially politicians, there was a good bit of “log-rolling” and electioneering.

“I think Henry Lee ought to be major,” said Jack. “He is one of our best soldiers.”

“He is no better soldier than you are, Jack,” returned Andy.

“Just what I say,” came from Pepper. “Jack ought to be major, and Henry one of the captains.”

“Dan Baxter is working hard to become major,” came from a cadet who had just strolled in. “Somebody told me he was actually trying to buy votes!”

“Buy them? Do you mean with money?” queried Jack.

“So somebody told me.”

“Oh, that can’t be true, Jerry. Why, who in this school would be mean enough to sell his