“Well, you never can tell,” answered Fred. Some wood had been gathered for the fire by Dale, Pepper, Andy and Fred, and the quartet were much disappointed when they found they could not start the blaze. Fred had thought to start the fire in a new way—by putting some carbide from a bicycle lamp on the ground in a little water and then igniting the gas formed by the combination. He forgot to put the carbide holder away, leaving it on the pile of wood. Captain Putnam was right about the wind, it was steadily rising and blowing first from one direction and then another. “Have your men peg down the tents good and tight,” said the captain to Major Jack, and the young commander of the battalion at once issued the necessary orders. By bedtime the wind was blowing almost a gale. Then, however, it appeared to die down. The guards were set as usual. Reff Ritter was stationed on Post 3, while Sabine was on Post 2. At the other end of that side of the encampment, on Post 4, was a cadet named Mason. “It’s a raw night to be out,” grumbled Ritter to Sabine, when the two met. “That’s so,” was the answer. “I’ll be glad to get under the covers when my time is up.” “I think I’ll smoke a cigarette,” went on Reff Ritter, looking around to see if anybody was in that vicinity. “Don’t let anybody catch you at it,” said Sabine, who well knew that cigarette smoking was against the rules. Ritter got out a cigarette and, not without difficulty, lit it. He took several puffs and inhaled the smoke. “Have one,” he said, and passed over the box. “Thanks, I will,” answered Billy Sabine weakly. He did not wish to smoke, but he did not want to look like a coward. The boys were at the end of the woods and remained together for several minutes. Then each walked off along his post The wind was now coming up again, and presently a sudden gust took Ritter’s cigarette from his fingers. It struck a nearby bush and the burning tobacco was carried through the air a distance of a hundred feet or more. “Hello, what’s that?” cried the cadet named Mason, as he came to a halt at the end of Post 4. “What’s what?” grumbled Ritter. “Thought I saw some fire flying through the air. Well, I declare! Look!” Mason stared in wonder in the direction of where the wood had been heaped up for the bonfire. The burning tobacco had been carried by the wind to this heap and had landed on the box of carbide. A few drops of rain were coming down, and the carbide was commencing to blaze up like a gasolene torch. “Oh, that’s nothing,” cried Ritter and running forward he kicked at the brushwood in semi-darkness. Over went the can of carbide into a pool of water. At once came a flash of fire from the gas thus generated, and the brushwood commenced to blaze away at a lively rate. It was now raining lightly and the wind was blowing stronger and stronger. Ritter tried to put out the fire, but it roared louder and louder, as more gas from the carbide was generated, and he grew afraid and drew back.