"Then why didn't you so tell the K.C.?"
"I answered the K.C. truthfully, Greg. I told him all that I really
know. I didn't feel called upon, and wasn't asked, to tell him
anything that I guessed."
"What is your guess?" insisted Holmes, with the privilege of a
friend.
"Greg, as far as I can be sure of anything without knowing it,
I am absolutely certain that a cadet came out of the car, behind
me, and that he pushed me off the platform."
"A cadet?" demanded Greg, turning pale. To Holmes it seemed atrocious
to couple the word cadet with any act of dishonor.
"Greg, as I plunged through the air, I succeeded in turning a trifle.
I am convinced, in my own mind, that I saw the gray cape overcoat
of a cadet I am also certain that I got a glimpse of his face.
The only limit to my certainty is that I wouldn't want to name
the man under oath."
"Who was he?" demanded Holmes.
Advancing, placing his lips against one of Greg's ears, Prescott
whispered the name:
"Haynes! But you mustn't breathe this to a living soul! Remember,
I wouldn't dare swear to the truth of what I've hinted to you."
Greg Holmes, wholly and utterly loyal to the cadet corps of which
he was himself an honored member, went even paler.
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