One does not like to leave this story without having a word to say about what the corps thought of the whole thing next morning. The "tac," of course, reported to his superior the night's alarm--"cause unknown," and that was the end of the matter officially. But the yearlings--phew!
The class compared notes right after reveille; and no one talked about anything else for the rest of that day. The cause of the rumpus made by the blankets was soon guessed; the two who had set off the gun were questioned, and that problem soon worked out also; that alone was bad enough! But the amazement when Bull and his tentmates turned up and declared that they--yearlings!--had been yanked, yes yanked, and by some measly plebes at that, there is no possibility of describing the indignation. Why, it meant that the class had been defied, that West Point had been overturned, that the world was coming to an end, and--what more could it possibly mean?
And through all the excitement the Seven just looked at each other--and winked:
"B. B. J.!" they said: "Just watch us!"
"It was great, b'gee!" said Dewey. "Hurrah for the plebes!"
"Hurrah!" was the answer, in a shout. "Hurrah!"
THE END.