How the pin had come into his possession he did not even recall.

It was a pin of ordinary size, one of the kind much used by milliners.
Having nothing else to do, Haynes idly thrust the head of the pin repeatedly in under the sole at the toe of his right boot.
Somewhat to his surprise the head went well in, then stopped at last, fitting snugly and stiffly in place.
"If I had a fellow sitting in front of me, what a startling jab I could give him with the toe of my boot," grinned the turnback.
Then, suddenly, there came a very queer look into his face.
"Why, I reckon I could jab something else with a pin, beside the flesh of another cadet," he muttered.
Then, trembling slightly, the turnback bent down and carefully extracted the pin.

His next act was to fasten it very securely on the inside of the front of his fatigue blouse, where the black uniform braid prevented its being seen.
Of late the second class cavalry drills had been in the open.
That day, however, it was raining heavily, and the order had been passed for the squads to report at the riding hall.
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.
I couldn't tell whether it were a diabolical look or merely a sardonic grin." "I was just thinking of a story I heard told years ago," lied Haynes glibly.
"I don't believe I'd care to hear that story, then," returned Pierson dryly.
"I'm not going to tell it to you.

'Bye, old man.

I'm off for riding drill." Dick and Greg were in the same squad.