The Mercer Boys at Woodcrest. Capwell Wyckoff

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      They retraced their steps hastily and rowed across the lake, where they put the boat away and went inside to wash up for supper. After the evening meal the four of them spent some time talking things over. Just before leaving them the senior said:

      “Well, we’ll keep this to ourselves. Whatever is going on may be all right, but I have my doubts. I think there is a mystery right here under our own noses, and let’s hope we can run it down. Suppose we all keep our eyes peeled and see what we can do.”

      CHAPTER 5

      The Man with the Key

      Although the four cadets took care to keep their eyes wide open they saw nothing in the succeeding days to help them solve the mystery which they had run across. At times they discussed the subject and made guesses, but these generally ended in nothing, and there were times when they half believed that they might be making a mountain out of a mole hill. No news had been received as to the whereabouts of their missing colonel, and life at Woodcrest drifted on in the same efficient manner.

      The arrival of a new cadet gave them something else to think about. One rainy day when the cadets were loitering about the halls waiting for the dinner call, a young fellow in his late teens arrived at the front door of Locke Hall. He was very dark, exceedingly well dressed, and carried himself with a swaggering air. He carried a suitcase plastered with foreign labels, and a cigarette drooped carelessly from one corner of his mouth. Gaining the center of the main hall he looked carelessly around. The cadets were standing in groups laughing and talking, and finally he addressed a third-class man.

      “Say, sonny,” called the newcomer. “Where do I find the sign-on-the-dotted-line room?”

      Considering the fact that Bertram, the third class cadet, was at least a year older than the newcomer, the term “sonny” was something out of the way. Talk ceased instantly among the cadets and they turned to look. Mr. Bertram answered with easy courtesy.

      “That is the door down there,” he said.

      The new man nodded easily. “Thanks, kid. Information is appreciated, I assure you. Is the agony man inside?”

      “I beg your pardon?” asked Bertram.

      “Is the clerk or headmaster or whoever officiates in there?”

      “I think you will find someone in there who will take care of you,” returned the upper classman.

      “I hope so. Somebody had better. I usually get what I want, you know.”

      Mr. Bertram didn’t know anything about it and he looked fixedly at the boy. Totally unabashed at the looks cast in his direction the newcomer walked into the office, where an instructor was sitting behind the information desk.

      The instructor looked up as the boy placed his suitcase on the floor. “How do you do?” he said, smiling pleasantly at the visitor. “What can I do for you?”

      “Oh, I don’t know,” said the boy. “Not an awful lot, I guess. My name is Vench, Raoul Vench.” He paused and waited, but Captain Chalmers said nothing.

      “My name is Vench,” repeated the newcomer.

      “Yes, Mr. Vench. Well, what can I do to help you?”

      “Do you mean to say that you didn’t know I was coming?” demanded the new student.

      Chalmers shook his head, his glance keen. “I didn’t know it. Perhaps Major Tireson did. Are you going to register with us?”

      “I certainly am,” answered the boy. “My father sent your headmaster a letter and told him that I was coming. I should have thought he would tell you, so you could be on the lookout for me. Yes, I’m going to be a member of your cadet corps and I’m here to sign up. Pass over the articles and a pen, already dipped in ink, if you don’t mind.”

      Captain Chalmers looked steadily at the boy for an instant and then his gaze wandered to the groups of cadets outside of the door. Suddenly he bit his lips to keep back a smile, a rather grim one, and then reached in the drawer of the desk, to take out some sheets of paper and a pen. With intense seriousness he dipped the pen into the ink and then looked at Vench.

      “Not cold, are you?” he asked.

      “No,” answered the boy with a stare. “Why?”

      “I thought maybe you were,” returned the instructor. “You still have your hat on. And that cigarette, which will be your last for something like four years, is already burned out. As there isn’t anything in that wastebasket you might throw it in there.”

      Vench looked closely at the teacher and seemed on the point of saying something, but evidently he changed his mind, for he took off his hat, threw away the cigarette and turned once more to the captain.

      “What is your name, please?” asked the instructor.

      “Raoul Mulroy Vench, of Murray Bay, Florida, lately from Quebec and points all over the world,” glibly answered the youth. “Age, 18, unmarried, nationality American citizen, though French-Canadian. How is that for a start, general?”

      “That is a very good start,” gravely replied the captain. “I’m glad you recognized my rank, Mr. Vench.” He continued to write for a few minutes and then looked up. “Have you any money on you at present?”

      Mr. Vench looked knowing. “I’m surprised at you, sir. I only arrive here and you want to borrow from me already! Yes, I have a few odd pennies on me. About two hundred dollars, I think.”

      “Hand it over, please, Mr. Vench. At the end of the year it will be returned to you. While you are here you will be allowed just two dollars a week of it, with which you can pay your expenses.”

      Vench threw back his head and laughed. “Two dollars!” he exclaimed. “My dear man, I was counting on that two hundred lasting me just for two months, and that would be stretching it. Is it a joke?”

      “Not at all, Mr. Vench. Have you read over the rules of the institution? Surely you must have. You didn’t come here without knowing the rules and regulations. The cadets are busy with their studies and athletics and have almost no use for ready money except for cokes and sodas. Transportation to games is furnished free and money is not strictly needed. You see how it is.”

      “Yes, I see,” grumbled Vench, handing over the money. “I expected to have a good time in this place, but I see I am quite mistaken.”

      Again Chalmers glanced at the groups in the hall. “I think you will have at least an interesting time here, Mr. Vench. Now the next thing for you to do is report at the medical department for examination.”

      “The second nuisance, eh?” sighed Vench. “That’ll be a waste of time, officer. I’m in tip-top shape.”

      “For the sake of our teams, I am very glad to hear it, Mr. Vench. However, the rules require that you go through with an examination.” Chalmers beckoned to a cadet in the hallway. “Will you step here a moment, Mr. Sears?”

      Mr. Sears stepped up and saluted the instructor, who returned it. “Take Mr. Vench to the medical department,” the teacher directed.

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