Читать книгу A West Point Treasure; Or, Mark Mallory's Strange Find онлайн

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“I should like to see how it goes with the Parson,” responded Grace, with a laugh. “I wish you’d try it while I’m around.”

The two as they had been talking were gazing across from the piazza in the direction of the summer encampment of the corps. And suddenly the girl gave an exclamation of surprise, as she noticed a tall, long-legged figure leave the camp, and proceed with great strides across the parade ground.

“There he goes now!” cried she.

Mark put his fingers to his lips and gave a shrill whistle. The Parson faced about and stared around anxiously; then, as he saw a handkerchief waving to him from the hotel, he turned and strode in that direction. A minute later his solemn face was gazing up at the two.

“What is it?” he inquired. “I dare not come up there. No, tempt me not. The little volume of instructions designated as the Blue Book denies the pleasure of visiting the hotel without a permit. I fear exceedingly lest I be violating some regulation by standing so near the forbidden ground.”