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Haynes had gone over to his fatigue blouse, the left front of which he was examining very closely. Then the turnback began to mutter indistinctly. "Why, Haynesy is walking and talking in his sleep!" decided Pierson. "Queer! I never knew him to do anything like that before. He must have something on his mind."
"It wouldn't do any good to ask Haynesy anything about this," decided Pierson. "He won't remember anything about it in the morning." So Pierson went to sleep again. When he awoke in the morning he was more than half inclined to believe that he had dreamed it all. The general reviews were drawing toward their close.
"I'll hit the right scheme -the real chance -yet!" the plotter told himself, as he tossed restlessly at night, while his roommate, Cadet Pierson, slept soundly the sleep of the just and decent. "Haynesy, what's the matter with you?" demanded Pierson one morning, as he watched his roommate going toward the washstand.
Pierson had read, somewhere, that it is never wise to disturb a sleepwalker, there being a risk that the sleepwalker, if aroused too suddenly, may suffer collapse from fright. "I wonder what on earth old Haynesy can have on his mind?" pondered Pierson. "Oh, well, whatever it is, it is no business of mine." With that Pierson let his head return to his pillow.
He succeeded in gaining the platform of the third car ahead. Though his knees shook under him, the turnback swung up on to the steps. In another moment, after noting that the cadets were not looking particularly towards the door, Haynes turned the knob, stepping inside and dropping, with feigned carelessness, into an empty seat. "Hullo, Haynesy," was Lewis's easy greeting. Been up ahead?
Soon after Haynes's roommate had returned from recitation the signal sounded for the squad that was to report at the riding hall. Haynes rose, drawing on his uniform raincoat. "What's the matter with you, Haynesy?" inquired his roommate. "Why do you ask, Pierson?" "There was a very queer look on your face," replied Cadet Pierson.
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