CHAPTER XIII
A NARROW ESCAPE
"Hold on!" cried Dutton, springing to his feet. "Wait a minute, Mr.—er—Mr.—"
"No, you can't come any game like that over me!" cried the angry farmer. "You stole my corn, and trampled a lot of it down. That's agin orders, an' I know it. I'll report to your superior officers, and we'll see how you'll like it."
"But—er—but I say—" stammered Button, wishing he could do something to placate the man, for he knew that all the blame would fall on him, and that he would be severely dealt with; perhaps reduced to the ranks.
"No. I'll not listen to you," replied the farmer. "I'm going to report to Colonel Masterly."
"Now look at the mess you've got us into, Dutton," said Stiver. "Why couldn't you let the corn alone."
"Shut up!" retorted the cadet captain. "I say, Mr.—Mr. Farmer," he called after the man.
"My name's not Farmer, but I know what yours will be; it'll be Mud, soon. I'll teach you tin soldiers to spoil my corn."
There were murmurs among the cadets. They
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