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+The Project Gutenberg eBook, Dick Prescott's First Year at West Point,
+by H. Irving Hancock
+
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+
+
+
+Title: Dick Prescott's First Year at West Point
+
+Author: H. Irving Hancock
+
+Release Date: November 14, 2004  [eBook #6426]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+
+***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK DICK PRESCOTT'S FIRST YEAR
+AT WEST POINT***
+
+
+E-text prepared by Project Gutenberg Distributed Proofreaders
+
+
+
+
+
+Dick Prescott's First Year at West Point
+Or Two Chums in the Cadet Gray
+
+By H. Irving Hancock
+
+The Saalfield Publishing Company
+Akron, Ohio New York
+Made in U. S. A.
+MCMX
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+CHAPTER I.     "TWO TINY SPECKS OF NOTHING"
+CHAPTER II.    THE TYRANNY OF THE CADET CORPORAL
+CHAPTER III.   THE "LUCKY" ONES TAKE UP THE NEW LIFE
+CHAPTER IV.    GREG'S CASE OF "BLUES"
+CHAPTER V.     CANDIDATE DODGE IS CRITICAL
+CHAPTER VI.    IN THE HANDS OF THE YEARLING HAZERS
+CHAPTER VII.   A SUDDEN GRIND AT MATH
+CHAPTER VIII.  DICK BONES TROUBLE
+CHAPTER IX.    PLEBE PRESCOTT'S FIRST FIGHT
+CHAPTER X.     THE "BEAST" WHO SCORED
+CHAPTER XI.    HOW CADET DODGE HELD POST NUMBER THREE
+CHAPTER XII.   PRESCOTT GETS NUMBER THREE
+CHAPTER XIII.  THE SENTRY MAKES A CAPTURE
+CHAPTER XIV.   POOR GREG CAN'T EXPLAIN
+CHAPTER XV.    GREG OVERHEARS A PRETTY GIRL'S TRIBUTE
+CHAPTER XVI.   TAPS SOUNDS ON SUMMER
+CHAPTER XVII.  MR. DODGE GOES CANVASSING
+CHAPTER XVIII. THE PLEBE CLASS CHOOSES ITS PRESIDENT
+CHAPTER XIX.   THE PROWLER IN QUARTERS
+CHAPTER XX.    CONCLUSION
+
+DICK PRESCOTT'S FIRST YEAR AT WEST POINT
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+"TWO TINY SPECKS OF NOTHING"
+
+
+"How do you feel, Dick! As spruce as you did an hour ago!"
+
+Candidate Greg Holmes put the question with a half-nervous
+laugh. He spoke in a whisper, too, as if to keep his agitation from
+reaching the notice of any of the score or more of other young men
+in the room of Mr. Ward, the aged notary at West Point.
+
+"I'll be glad when I see some daylight through the proceedings,"
+Dick Prescott whispered in answer.
+
+"I'm glad they allow us to talk here in undertones," pursued Greg.
+
+"If we weren't allowed to do so, some of us would go suddenly
+crazy, utter a whoop and spring through one of the windows,"
+grinned Dick.
+
+For the tenth time he thrust his hands into his pockets--then as
+quickly drew them out again.
+
+All of the young men now gathered in the room were candidates for
+cadetships at West Point; candidates who had been appointed by the
+Congressmen or Senators of their home districts or states, and who
+must now pass satisfactory physical and mental examinations, after
+which they would be enrolled as cadets in the United States Military
+Academy. Those of the cadets who thus passed the preliminary
+examinations, and who maintained good health and good standing in
+their classes during the following four years and three months would
+then be graduated from the Military Academy and forthwith be appointed
+second lieutenants in the Regular Army of the United States.
+
+Hived in this room, awaiting their turn, a spirit of awe had gripped
+all these nervous young men.
+
+Some of them dreaded a failure in the coming bodily tests before
+the keen-eyed, impartial surgeons of the United States Army.
+
+Probably half of the boys in the room feared that they would fail in
+the academic examinations.
+
+Boys? Some of the candidates didn't look the part. They had the
+physiques and general appearance, many of them, of men; for a
+candidate may be anywhere between the ages of seventeen and
+twenty-two years of age.
+
+From all over the country they came. When the new, or plebe class
+should finally be assembled and put to work, that class would
+represent practically every state in the Union.
+
+Readers of a former series of books, "THE HIGH SCHOOL BOYS
+SERIES," will not need to again be introduced to Dick Prescott
+and Greg Holmes. Such readers will well remember these two
+manly young Americans as members of that famous sextette,
+"Dick & Co.," famous in the annals of the good old Gridley High
+School.
+
+Nor will such readers need to be told how Dick won, over the
+heads of forty competitors, the nomination of Congressman
+Spokes, the boy carrying all before him in a rigid competitive
+examination at the Gridley High School. The same readers will
+remember how Greg Holmes secured his own nomination from
+Senator Frayne. This was all related in the closing volume of the
+High School Series, "THE HIGH SCHOOL CAPTAIN OF THE TEAM."
+
+Our former readers will also recall that Dave Darrin and Dan
+Daizell "ran away" with the nominations for cadetships at
+Annapolis, while Tom Reade and Harry Hazelton, the last of
+famous Dick & Co., went West seeking their careers as young
+engineers.
+
+To be a cadet at West Point, and then to blossom out as an officer
+in the Regular Army--this had long been Dick's fondest hope. Greg,
+too, had caught the Army fever, and now suffered from it as
+severely as Dick Prescott himself.
+
+And now, at what seemed like the critical moment, this tedious
+waiting was almost maddening.
+
+Before Mr. Ward's desk stood a lonely looking young man, red
+faced and fidgeting as though he were going through a fearful
+ordeal.
+
+"What on earth can they be doing to that fellow?" wondered Greg,
+in a barely audible undertone. "That fine-looking old gentleman
+can't be hazing a cadet?"
+
+"No; but I wonder what the ordeal is," Dick whispered back. "I
+haven't seen a fellow look comfortable through it yet."
+
+"Mr. Prescott!"
+
+Dick started to his feet so suddenly that his right almost tripped
+over his left.
+
+One of the other candidates near by tittered. That caused Dick's
+face to turn redder than ever.
+
+Mr. Ward, however, looked up at the boy with a kindly smile.
+
+"State your full name, Mr. Prescott."
+
+Dick did so.
+
+"When and where born? Give date and place."
+
+By this time Dick was beginning to find his voice. The excess of
+color began to recede from his face. He had already, almost
+unconsciously, passed over the sealed envelope which he had
+received from the adjutant in a room on the same floor at
+headquarters.
+
+Prescott was quickly breathing at his ease. He discovered that the
+entire ordeal consisted of giving his family history, with dates.
+
+Then he stepped back. Another name was called.
+
+"Don't let that rattle you a bit, Greg," whispered Dick, when he had
+dropped back into his seat beside his chum. "Mr. Ward doesn't do
+anything but take your pedigree."
+
+"Mr. Holmes!"
+
+Greg got up with nearly all of his self-possession about him. He
+was just returning to sit by his chum when the nattiest, sprucest-
+looking soldier imaginable, wearing the olive-drab fatigue uniform
+of the Army and overcoat to match, stepped into the room.
+
+"The surgeons have directed me to bring down all the candidates
+who are through here," the orderly announced. "Follow me to the
+sidewalk, where you will fall in loosely, by twos, and follow me to
+the cadet hospital."
+
+Among those of the candidates who had finished giving their
+pedigrees there was a rush that would put a spectator in mind
+almost of a football scrimmage. It represented merely the feverish
+anxiety of these young men to get through with the next stage in
+their awe-filled day.
+
+"There are some marching down with us who won't be marching
+with us to the next place, I am afraid," whispered Holmes.
+
+"I imagine so," whispered Dick, with a nod.
+
+"Say," murmured Greg, his cheek suddenly blanching, "just how
+much chest expansion do the surgeons demand in the case of a
+fellow standing five-seven in his stocking feet?"
+
+There was a note almost of panic in Greg's voice.
+
+"Cheer up, Greg!" urged Dick, whose own lace was again flushing.
+"You've got chest expansion enough for a heavy-weight prize
+fighter."
+
+"You must have the same, then. Is that so?" demanded Holmes.
+"What makes your face so red?"
+
+"Just wondering," admitted Prescott, in a low voice, "whether I
+ever contracted any symptoms of football-player's heart."
+
+"Bosh!" muttered Greg. "I never heard of any such disease."
+
+"I never did either," Dick fidgeted. "But in the hour I've been at
+West Point I've concluded that people here know a heap of things
+that aren't even guessed at in the outside world."
+
+"O-o-o-h! Say! Look!" murmured Greg in deep awe and admiring
+wonder. "They must be cadets!"
+
+Eight young men in gray, marshaled by a section marcher, went
+swinging up the road with a marching rhythm so perfect that it
+was like music.
+
+Each of these young men was clad in flawless gray, with black
+stripes and facings. Each young man wore his cadet fatigue cap at
+an exact angle. The long, caped gray overcoats looked as though
+they had been melted to the forms of their wearers.
+
+No wonder Greg Holmes gave that involuntary gasp. He was
+having his first view of a small squad of real cadets.
+
+Some of the candidates on the other sidewalk so far forgot
+themselves as to halt and all but stare at the natty young marching
+men opposite.
+
+Then, all in an instant, the section marcher and his section had
+gone by.
+
+"Don't anyone halt, please," cautioned the soldier orderly. "Keep
+your places in the line, young gentlemen, and keep moving right
+along."
+
+So they reached the cadet hospital. The orderly marched them into
+a spacious, almost bare room on the ground floor and announced:
+
+"I will report to the surgeon. Young gentlemen, wait until you are
+called."
+
+"I wish I could carry myself and step the way that fellow does,"
+whispered Dick, his admiring gaze following the retreating
+orderly.
+
+"Well, that's what we've come here to learn," replied Greg. "That
+is, if we get by the doctors--and then the beastly academic grind."
+
+Now, to keep his mind occupied, Dick Prescott fell to observing,
+covertly, the other candidates.
+
+These were of all sorts and sizes. They represented all parts of the
+United States and every walk in social life. Out of the group were
+two or three who, judging by their clothing, might have been sons
+of washerwomen. There were other youngsters whose general
+appearance and bearing seemed to proclaim that they came from
+homes of wealth. But the majority of the young men appeared to
+have come from the same walk in life as did Dick and Greg.
+
+Our two young friends were by no means the most smartly nor the
+most correctly attired young men there. On their way to New York
+Prescott and Holmes had discovered, by taking mental notes of the
+other male passengers on the train, that these two Gridley boys had
+missed something from the most correct styles then prevailing in
+the larger cities.
+
+Dick and Greg were both solidly and substantially attired, yet there
+was an indefinable something about them which proclaimed them
+to be young men from one of the smaller cities of the United
+States.
+
+"I can see those medical big-wigs pawing me over now," shivered
+Greg. "I suppose, at a place as wonderful and as learned as West
+Point, the doctors are all fussy old men, with their gold-rimmed
+spectacles and shiny frock coats."
+
+"Wait and see," advised Dick, trying to get a grip on himself to
+control his nervousness.
+
+Another door opened, to admit a dandified and very smart-looking
+young officer, apparently about twenty-five years of age.
+
+"You're all ready, young gentlemen?" he asked smilingly.
+
+"We're waiting for the doctor," replied Greg, who was close to the
+door by which the officer had entered.
+
+"I am one of the surgeons," replied the young officer pleasantly.
+
+"Gee whiz!" remarked one raw-boned youth, in what was meant to
+be a confidential whisper, but which rose to a pitch that carried it
+around the room. "Say, he doesn't look much like our old
+saw-bones doc down home way!"
+
+The surgeon was followed by a smart-looking soldier of the
+hospital corps, who started to close the shades of the room.
+
+"You have all been to the treasurer's office and deposited your
+funds?" asked the young surgeon, turning again. This time his
+question appeared to be addressed to Dick more particularly than
+to anyone else.
+
+"Why, no, sir," Prescott replied. "I have all my money in my pocket
+yet."
+
+"Orderly!" spoke the surgeon to his own man of the hospital corps,
+who wheeled, brought his heels together and stood at attention.
+"Bring in that orderly who conducted the young gentlemen here."
+
+"Yes, sir," replied the hospital orderly, wheeling about and
+vanishing from the room. He was back again in a moment with the
+soldier who had brought in this batch of candidates without
+interviewing the treasurer.
+
+"Orderly," spoke the surgeon, "you have overlooked one part of
+your instructions. You did not take these candidates to the
+treasurer's office."
+
+"No, sir."
+
+"Do so now. Then conduct the candidates back here."
+
+"Very good, sir."
+
+Signing to the candidates to rise and follow him outside, the
+orderly himself led the way.
+
+"Say, that was neatly done. No calling the man down; no bluster,"
+whispered Greg as the candidates again walked along the
+sidewalk.
+
+"It's the Army way, I take it," murmured Dick.
+
+This time the orderly marched his awkward squad straight to the
+cadet store and into the treasurer's office.
+
+"O-o-o-h!" groaned Greg in an undertone.
+
+"What's the matter?" demanded Dick in a cautious whisper.
+
+"This delay and killing suspense before we get before the doctors.
+I'll bet my fever has gone up above one hundred and three
+degrees!"
+
+"Form in line, and each one of you turn in all his money," directed
+the treasurer crisply.
+
+Each candidate was required to deposit with the treasurer the sum
+of one hundred dollars. In the event that the candidate "passed"
+successfully to enrollment in the cadet corps, then this money was
+to be applied to the purchase of things necessary for the new cadet
+to have. In case the candidate did not pass he would receive his
+hundred dollars back again--enough, in almost any case, to take the
+young man safely back to his home.
+
+The first three men to step before the treasurer each turned in a
+few dollars in excess of the hundred.
+
+Each was handed the treasurer's receipt for the exact amount that
+he deposited.
+
+Then came a rather dazzlingly attired young man of at least
+twenty-one. He had watched the others and now, with an air of
+some importance, drew out a roll of considerable size. He
+detached two fifty-dollar bills and handed them to the treasurer,
+with the query:
+
+"A century covers the deposit, doesn't it?"
+
+Though the treasurer frowned slightly at the slang use of "century,"
+he replied briskly:
+
+"You must deposit all the money you have, Mr. Geroldstone."
+
+"But that doesn't seem like a square deal," protested young
+Geroldstone. "I'll need some money for personal expenses, some
+for little dinners, something to spend on the young [Transcriber's
+note: word missing]"
+
+"You'll need no money here, Mr. Geroldstone. Cadets are allowed
+no spending money outside of the so-called confectionery
+allowance, and that is charged to you from your pay."
+
+"But I'm a big candy eater," urged Geroldstone, with a grin.
+
+"No argument, if you please, sir!" rapped the treasurer rather
+sharply. "Turn over all your money and remember that you are on
+honor in the matter."
+
+Mr. Geroldstone received a receipt for nine hundred and sixty-two
+dollars, plus a few small coins. As he turned away he muttered to
+one of his predecessors:
+
+"Say, ain't that a good deal like a hold up?"
+
+"Remember, young gentlemen, all the money you have,"
+admonished the treasurer, as the line started to move again.
+
+Thus commanded, the candidates went through all their pockets
+while standing awaiting their own turns.
+
+Dick and Greg had so well calculated their traveling expenses that
+each turned in about twenty dollars above the required one
+hundred dollars.
+
+This little transaction completed, the orderly turned and marched
+them back at once to the hospital.
+
+By this time some of the candidates had sufficiently overcome
+their nervousness to realize how raw and chilly this first day of
+March was. All of the candidates wore overcoats, though the outer
+garments worn by some of the young men, especially those who
+had journeyed hither from Southern States, were not of a weight to
+meet the March demands at hilly West Point, which lies exposed
+to the icy northern blasts down the Hudson River.
+
+It looked as though it might snow at any moment. There was "ice
+in the air," as Greg Holmes expressed it.
+
+So it was a welcome relief to all of the young candidates to find
+themselves once more inside the hospital building.
+
+They were taken into the same room. During their absence the
+hospital corps orderly had distributed blankets, one on each chair.
+
+"Each of you will please strip now," announced the same young
+medical officer, coming briskly into the room. "Strip as quickly as
+you can. Each man take a blanket and wrap it around himself
+while waiting."
+
+Some of the young men looked startled, but all obeyed. In this
+stripping, and in the varied degrees of orderliness with which the
+different stacks of discarded clothing were piled it was rather easy
+to pick out the young men who had previously undressed in the
+dressing quarters of schools or colleges where athletics are a big
+feature.
+
+"If we had a few tom-tom players we'd be ready with a fine
+imitation of an Indian war dance," muttered one of the candidates,
+gazing about him at his blanketed companions. There was a laugh,
+of course. These highly nervous youngsters were ready to laugh
+at anything just now.
+
+"Is Mr. Geroldstone ready?" asked the hospital orderly,
+marching into the room.
+
+"I will be, in five minutes or so," replied Geroldstone, slowly
+pulling his shirt off over his head.
+
+"Mr. Danvers, then," called the orderly, consulting a slip of paper
+in his right hand.
+
+Candidate Frank Danvers, a good-looking young man, self-contained,
+slight of build, not very tall, but very black as to hair,
+stepped forward.
+
+"In here, sir," requested the hospital orderly, holding open the door.
+After Danvers had gone the other young men held their breath for
+a few moments--all except Geroldstone, who was still leisurely
+disrobing.
+
+Back came Danvers after a few moments. Every candidate in the
+room looked at him inquiringly.
+
+"Yes, gentlemen; I'm very happy to say that I passed," nodded
+Danvers, as he sprang across the room and began to don his
+clothes once more.
+
+"Mr. Geroldstone!" called the orderly, and the big candidate went
+in.
+
+An anxious twenty minutes passed--anxious alike for Geroldstone
+and for those who still dangled on tenterhooks in the outer room.
+
+At last the candidate under fire came out, a sickly grin on his face.
+Though the others looked at him curiously, not a word did
+Geroldstone offer.
+
+"The big fellow has failed; I'll bet," muttered Greg Holmes. "I'm
+sorry for him, poor fellow."
+
+Still another candidate was now undergoing the ordeal inside.
+When he came out, nodding contentedly, the summons sounded:
+
+"Mr. Prescott!"
+
+"Brace up, Dick! You're all right," whispered Greg, with an
+affectionate pat on the shoulder as young Prescott rose, and,
+wrapping the blanket nervously around him, went through the
+doorway.
+
+The same young medical officer, Lieutenant Herman, was in the
+other room. With him was an older medical officer, Captain
+Goodwin.
+
+"Drop your blanket on that chair," nodded Lieutenant Herman.
+"Now, step over to the scales."
+
+Dick's weight, stripped, was taken, as well as his height. These
+points Lieutenant Herman jotted down as Captain Goodwin called
+them off.
+
+"Now, let me listen to your heart," directed the senior medical
+officer, picking up a stethoscope from his desk. The heart beat and
+sounds were examined from several points.
+
+"Come here, Mr. Prescott," directed Captain Goodwin, opening
+another door and revealing a flight of stairs. "Run up these stairs
+and back, as fast as you can."
+
+As Dick halted, after that feat, his heart action was again
+examined, this time by both surgeons. After that his lungs were
+examined. Then he was directed to lie on a table, while the areas
+over his other organs were thumped and listened to. Then the
+candidate was examined for deformities. He was ordered to march
+around the room, to run, to jump over a low stool, and perform
+other antics.
+
+Then the two surgeons conferred briefly at the desk.
+
+"You'll do, Mr. Prescott," announced Captain Goodwin.
+
+"Thank you, sir," stammered Dick, the flush of happiness coming to
+his cheeks.
+
+"You've taken part in school athletics, haven't you?" asked
+Lieutenant Herman.
+
+"Yes, sir; captain of our football team last fall."
+
+"You look it," nodded Lieutenant Herman pleasantly. "Take your
+blanket, Mr. Prescott. Orderly, call the next man."
+
+As Dick strode back where he had left the others he heard the
+orderly call:
+
+"Mr. Holmes."
+
+"Go to it, old man. There's nothing to be afraid of," whispered
+Dick Prescott.
+
+"They got through with you in mighty quick time," smiled one of
+the other candidates.
+
+"Did they?" laughed Prescott. "It seemed to me as though the
+surgeons started yesterday and finished to-morrow."
+
+Mr. Geroldstone had finished dressing and sat by, a sulky look on
+his face. He wanted to go back to cadet store, get his money and
+leave West Point instantly. But the orderly had told him he would
+have to wait until a report had been made out to the adjutant.
+
+To Dick the minutes dragged until Greg Holmes appeared again.
+Truth to tell, Greg was much afraid that he had a slight trouble
+with his heart, and that this difficulty would hinder his passing.
+Dick, who was aware of his chum's dread, was anxious for
+Holmes. As soon as he had finished dressing he found himself
+pacing the floor.
+
+It was quite a while ere Greg came out, but his quiet, happy smile
+told the story.
+
+"Did they ask you questions about your heart?" asked Prescott in
+an undertone.
+
+"Yes," admitted Greg, while he dropped his blanket and began
+hastily pulling on his clothes.
+
+"You told the truth, didn't you?"
+
+"Of course, I did," flushed Greg. "If I hadn't told the truth I
+wouldn't be fit to be an Army officer. But Captain Goodwin
+laughed at me."
+
+"Then he didn't find anything much wrong with your heart!"
+
+"He said he guessed I had had some discomfort at times, but that,
+if I would eat more slowly, and chew my food better, my stomach
+would get a rest and stop shoving my heart."
+
+"Oh! Is that all that has been ailing you?" smiled Dick.
+
+"According to Captain Goodwin it's enough. He says my trouble
+started only recently, and that I can be over the last sign of it in
+three days if I'll take up with decent eating habits. But he has
+known boys he has had to reject because they had been at bad
+eating tricks for a longer time. You can bet I'm going to follow the
+surgeon's advice after this."
+
+Four out of this squad of candidates were rejected by the
+examining surgeons. Geroldstone remained sulky, with an air of
+bravado; the other three young men were so downcast that all their
+companions were heartily sorry for them. The hospital orderly
+marched back to the adjutant's office those who had been rejected,
+while another orderly appeared and led those who had passed the
+surgeons to the cadet barracks.
+
+"This begins to look like the real thing," murmured Dick as they
+neared the barracks.
+
+Now this group were taken to the room of the cadet officer of the
+day, Lieutenant Edwards. Beside the cadet lieutenant's desk stood
+Cadet Corporal Brayton.
+
+To the cadet officer of the day each of the candidates gave his
+name and home address, which were entered in a book.
+
+"Brayton, take Prescott and Holmes to room number --, will you?"
+asked Mr. Edwards without looking up.
+
+Dick and Greg followed their conductor outside and into another
+subdivision of barracks. Mr. Brayton kept on until he had reached
+the top flight, where he threw open a door.
+
+"Step in here, Mr. Prescott and Mr. Holmes," ordered the cadet
+corporal stiffly. To the two new arrivals the corporal spoke as
+though he had conceived an intense dislike for these two boys.
+Later, Dick and Greg discovered that it was merely the way in
+which all candidates were treated by the cadet officers.
+
+"You'll draw your bedding and other things presently," said
+Brayton coldly. "In the meantime you will remain here until you
+are ordered out. When you hear the order for candidates to turn
+out, obey without an instant's delay."
+
+With that the corporal was gone, leaving the chums to gaze
+wonderingly about their new quarters.
+
+Luxury? Not a bit of it. The room was severely plain. At one end
+was a double alcove, separated by a wall. In each alcove stood a
+bare-looking iron bedstead. There were two washbowls, two
+chairs and two desks that looked as though they had served the
+needs of generations of cadets. There was a window that looked
+out on the quadrangular area of barracks.
+
+"Well, we're actually here, anyway," breathed Dick, his eyes
+sparkling. "We're living in cadet barracks, and we're halfway
+through the ordeal of becoming new cadets at the wonderful old
+United States Military Academy!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+THE TYRANNY OF THE CADET CORPORAL
+
+
+Dick hung up his coat and hat, and Greg did the same, for the
+heat was turned on and the room wholly comfortable as to
+temperature.
+
+"I've heard," murmured Greg, "that fellows usually get most
+woefully homesick at West Point."
+
+"Then they've no business to come here," retorted Prescott, with
+spirit. "Such tender ones won't make soldiers anyway."
+
+"I suppose we shall be awfully looked down on at first," mused
+Greg aloud.
+
+"Well, we can stand it," laughed Dick. "If we can't, we can't endure
+lots more of things that are ahead of us."
+
+"Just now I could endure a good, filling meal," sighed Holmes
+comically.
+
+"Yes?" laughed Prescott. "Then just press the button and the waiter
+will bring us the bill of fare. I understand that candidates are
+allowed to have their meals served in rooms. Although I believe
+it's forbidden for any candidate, or cadet, either, to eat his
+breakfast in bed."
+
+"Quit your 'kidding,'" begged Greg.
+
+"I don't know that the authorities will bother to feed us, anyway,
+until we've passed and it's known that we are going to stay and be
+cadets," laughed young Prescott, feeling around his belt-line, for
+he, too, was hungry.
+
+"Candidates turn out promptly!" rang, from below, a voice full of
+military command.
+
+Greg was in the middle of a comforting yawn and stretch. He
+dallied to finish it, but Dick, snatching down his overcoat and hat,
+was already out on the landing and racing below, while behind him
+floated the advice:
+
+"Come on, Greg! Get a boost on!"
+
+"Get along there, beasts," commanded a cadet corporal in the
+lower hallway sternly. "This is no sleeping match!"
+
+Out in the yard several candidates had already run. Some of these
+young men at home, had been accustomed to being waited on by
+mothers and sisters. Yet here, in the seemingly freezing and hostile
+air of the Military Academy, these same young men were fast
+learning that everything has to be done by one's self, and at
+steam-engine speed.
+
+"Mr. Danvers, come with me, and I'll place you as right guide,"
+called Cadet Brayton with the air and tone of a budding military
+martinet.
+
+Candidate Danvers followed meekly. Brayton looked at the lad's
+stooping shoulders with frigid, utter disapproval.
+
+"Mr. Danvers, take your hands out of your pockets, sir."
+
+"All right," laughed Mr. Danvers, obeying, and trying to laugh
+nonchalantly. "Anything to please."
+
+"Don't address a superior officer, sir, unless he addresses you in a
+way to make a reply necessary. And when you do address a
+Superior officer, or any other cadet or candidate on official
+business always add 'sir.'"
+
+Danvers nodded, but the nod Cadet Corporal Brayton ignored by
+turning on his heel and stepping, with a magnificently military air
+and carriage, over to another luckless candidate.
+
+When ordered, the candidate fell in next to Mr. Danvers. Then the
+other anxious youngsters fell into line.
+
+"Candidates turn out promptly!" sounded snappily in another part
+of barracks.
+
+Another lot of newcomers began to tumble downstairs and out of
+doors with feverish haste, to be confronted by another cadet
+corporal who awaited them.
+
+"Never mind that other squad!" admonished Cadet Corporal
+Brayton sharply. "Favor me with your whole attention. Now, then,
+listen, and do each thing as I tell you. Button your jackets and
+overcoats all the way down! Stand erect, with your heels together,
+and your toes pointing out at an angle of sixty degrees. Stand erect.
+Throw your shoulders back, your chests out and hold your heads
+up. This is called 'the position of the soldier.' Stand as I do."
+
+Corporal Brayton favored his awkward squad with a profile view
+of himself, as he took the exact position of a soldier. How the
+anxious candidates wished they really could stand as this
+handsome young son of Mars did! To them it seemed impossible
+ever to acquire such truly military carriage. They did not realize
+that, between drills, gymnasium work and the setting-up drills,
+they would, in a few weeks, be hard to distinguish in elegance and
+perfection from their present instructor.
+
+"Not quite so much like an ostrich, Mr. Prescott!" rasped out
+Corporal Brayton severely.
+
+Dick flushed painfully, all the more so because he heard one of the
+other candidates snicker.
+
+"Stop that laughing, Mr. Danvers!" commanded Corporal Brayton.
+
+Greg, in trying to get the right position, had so exaggerated it that
+now he found himself trembling from the strain of trying to
+maintain that position.
+
+"What ails you, Mr. Holmes!" demanded Brayton, with withering
+scorn.
+
+"I--I was trying to get the right position, sir," stammered Greg,
+reddening.
+
+"That isn't the position of even a respectable dromedary, Mr.
+Holmes," rejoined the cadet corporal crisply.
+
+Then he poured a storm of refined abuse upon Greg. It wasn't
+intended entirely for Greg, but for the benefit of all the awkwardly
+standing green candidates. Not a word in Brayton's remarks went
+beyond the limits of strict military propriety, yet every word cut.
+
+"My, but I'd like to fall out and give this fellow a licking!"
+muttered Greg to himself.
+
+"Mr. Holmes," observed Cadet Corporal Brayton dryly, "clenched
+fists do not go with the position of the soldier. Let your hands fall
+naturally at your sides, each little finger resting against the seam of
+the trousers, or where you judge the seam to be."
+
+Again the blood shot up to the roots of Greg's hair, suffusing his
+face. But Mr. Brayton had already turned to another candidate
+whom he found in a ludicrously bad position. After some minutes
+of this attempt to instruct the candidates in the seemingly simple
+matter of standing correctly, Brayton gave the welcome order to
+rest.
+
+By this time four other awkward squads were at the same work.
+
+"I wish we had our uniforms," whispered Greg. "I'd feel better."
+
+"I am glad I haven't a uniform yet," returned Dick in an equally
+low voice. "I realize how like a fool I'd look in it when I don't even
+know how to stand, let alone attempting to walk in a uniform. Just
+look at the magnificent carriage of the man that's drilling us!"
+
+"I'd like to hammer him until he needed a carriage to get anywhere
+in," muttered Greg vengefully. "That corporal is a brute, without a
+vestige of good breeding."
+
+"Then, for a fellow without breeding, he certainly carries himself
+like a king," retorted Dick. "At least, I don't believe any European
+prince has half as fine a carriage as Mr. Brayton."
+
+"I wonder if they're all as bad as this corporal," demanded Greg.
+"Brayton is a tyrant in gray."
+
+"Greg! Greg! Get a brace on yourself, old fellow," whispered Dick
+warningly. "This is only the morning of the first day, and we have
+before us months--years--of taking our medicine. Don't lose the gait
+even before you've got it. We came here to take our medicine and
+learn to be soldiers, didn't we?"
+
+"Squad, attention!" rasped out Corporal Brayton, wheeling and
+once more favoring his own green lot with his whole regard.
+
+Repeatedly he showed these new men how to stand, how to hold
+themselves and how to do it without appearing ridiculous. So
+crisp, so rapping and even decorously abusive was Mr. Brayton
+that the boys under his command at this moment would have
+gasped had they been told that Brayton was considered one of the
+easiest and best-natured of the cadet corporals. Brayton had his
+work to do--that was all. It was part of his own training to learn
+how to whip an awkward squad into time in the shortest possible
+order.
+
+By-and-by all these anxious, even trembling, candidates were
+instructed in the mystery of marching a few steps at command,
+how to keep their alignment on the right guide, how to halt, the
+facings and all that.
+
+"Now, we'll pass on to learning to count fours, and how to march
+off in column of fours," announced Brayton. "Squad halt!" he
+commanded hoarsely, in disgust, ere the young men had taken four
+steps. "Listen to me more attentively, and try more closely to
+follow orders!" glared the young corporal.
+
+After that it seemed as though Cadet Corporal Brayton could have
+no other aim in life than to drive his squad of candidates away
+from West Point. At almost every move through the drill he
+berated them caustically, though in such faultless military language
+of reproof as to keep him from censure.
+
+"Dismissed," glared Brayton at last. "The candidates will go to
+their rooms until summoned again."
+
+Dick and Greg both felt stiff in the legs. Their backs ached from
+the long-continued drilling in what was yet, to them, the rigor of
+near-military carriage. Both chums toiled up the stairs to their bare
+room.
+
+"Oh, you brute!" muttered Greg, standing in the middle of the
+room and shaking his fist in the direction of the area.
+
+"Meaning--whom?" queried Prescott, with a wan smile.
+
+"Whom could I mean but Brayton?" almost hissed young Holmes.
+"Why does that fellow hate us all so?"
+
+"I'll tell you a secret, if you want to hear it," proposed Dick
+mysteriously.
+
+"Please!" begged Candidate Holmes.
+
+"Then I don't believe he does hate us."
+
+"What?" gasped Greg incredulously.
+
+"I don't believe he'd remember half our faces if he passed the
+members of his squad in the area right now," declared Dick.
+
+"Then why does he persecute us so?" demanded Greg indignantly.
+
+"I don't believe it is persecution," Dick continued.
+
+"Then why, in the name of all that's kindly, does that fellow put us
+under the heel of hateful usage? Why must we submit to the
+tyranny of that cadet corporal?"
+
+"It's the West Point way--that's all, I guess."
+
+"Do you propose to submit to it?" challenged Greg.
+
+"Yes," retorted Dick soberly. "I don't want to have to leave the
+Academy and go home stamped a failure."
+
+"Neither do I," admitted Candidate Holmes in a more moderate
+tone. "But I wonder whether we have to stand so much nonsense
+from a petty young official like a mere corporal?"
+
+"I'm afraid we do," nodded Dick. "Now, see here, Greg, can't you
+make a good guess as to why we're put through such a grilling?"
+
+"I'll confess I can't see any human reason in it," declared Candidate
+Holmes.
+
+"Why, what did we come here to learn to be?"
+
+"Soldiers."
+
+"Are we soldiers yet!"
+
+"Of course not," Greg admitted.
+
+"Do you think these people at West Point have time to coax and
+pamper us along!"
+
+"Probably not. But can't they--or can't that fellow Brayton--be decent
+with us?"
+
+"Now, look right here," counseled Candidate Prescott wisely. "We
+want to be soldiers, but as yet we're only ignorant, unregenerate,
+untaught young cubs. To the older cadets we must seem like pitiful
+beasts."
+
+"No, we don't,"' sneered Candidate Holmes. "We don't seem
+anything at all. No cadet here, unless he's obliged to notice us,
+even looks at us. We're less than nothing."
+
+"That's true," nodded Dick thoughtfully. "And I'll wager it will be
+pretty nearly as bad all the time we're plebes. Now brace up, Greg.
+Remember what a small fraction of nothing you are, and be
+thankful for the severe handling by Brayton, which may eventually
+transform us into at least pretty fair imitations of soldiers."
+
+Outside a drum was sounding. It was mess call, but neither
+candidate knew it. Almost immediately, however, Brayton's
+rousing voice rang up through the subdivision:
+
+"Candidates turn out promptly!"
+
+"There's our slave-driver once more," frowned Candidate Holmes.
+
+Dick, as he raced down the stairs, remembered to button his coat
+down its entire length. Greg forgot. As he darted through the
+doorway to the porch overlooking the area he found Corporal
+Brayton's gaze fastened upon him in severe displeasure.
+
+"Mr. Holmes, button your coat, sir!"
+
+Reddening and frowning, too, it must be admitted, Greg obeyed.
+
+"All candidates will pass quickly through the north sally port and
+make formation," continued the cadet corporal.
+
+Here the entire uniformed cadet corps was forming, facing the
+plain. At the extreme left of the line a cadet lieutenant, two
+sergeants and four cadet corporals busied themselves with forming
+the candidates and alternates in line. When the word was given the
+cadet corps wheeled to the right and marched off in column of
+fours, quite a splendid model of military precision.
+
+Somehow the un-uniformed greenhorns managed to turn into
+column of fours, though some of the bewildered boys forgot to
+which four they belonged and there was some confusion.
+
+Behind the superb cadet corps, toiled along these all but hopeless
+candidates and alternates, scores and scores of them--every fellow
+of them feeling more awkward than his nearest neighbors in the
+line. Badly out of step was this green material. Some of the boys
+slouched as they walked along; others shuffled. Their appearance
+was enough to dishearten a trained soldier.
+
+But at last all these green ones were marshaled to seats in the great
+dining hall at cadet mess. There, in a fine dinner, they forgot,
+momentarily, many of the discouragements of the forenoon.
+
+In the afternoon came a lot more of drilling of awkward squads by
+other cadet corporals. Greg soon found, under the tender mercies
+of another corporal, why Brayton was considered "easy."
+
+These cadet corporals are all members of the yearling class, the
+class directly above the plebes. As corporals these members of the
+yearling class get their first direct experience in military
+command.
+
+Later in the afternoon all candidates were notified that academic
+examinations would begin at eight o'clock the next morning in the
+Academic Building.
+
+And now the candidates began to shiver! "Bad" as the start had
+been, they hoped, to a man, that they would pass these academic
+examinations. To fail meant to return home, the dream of being a
+cadet shattered!
+
+"Ugh!" muttered Greg, rubbing his hands in quarters. "Br-r-r! Dick,
+I'm afraid I'm scared cold!"
+
+Prescott smiled, but he, too, was worried over the coming
+mysteries of the academic examinations, which he had heard were
+uncommonly [Transcriber's note: word missing].
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+THE "LUCKY" ONES TAKE UP THE NEW LIFE
+
+
+Candidate Prescott did not take the best examination by
+any means, but he got through without discredit in any branch.
+
+A number of these candidates had spent the last year or so at some
+"prep." school that made a specialty of preparing young men for
+West Point and Annapolis.
+
+Greg did fairly in English, quite well in history, geography and
+arithmetic; in algebra, through sheer nervousness, young Holmes
+barely escaped going short.
+
+Nearly twoscore of the candidates failed utterly. These went
+sorrowing home, giving their alternates a chance to enter the corps
+in their places.
+
+Soon after the results had been declared, the young men who had
+passed went over to headquarters. There they signed a statement to
+the effect that they entered the Military Academy with the consent
+of their parents or guardians, and bound themselves to serve in the
+Army at least eight years, unless sooner discharged. These new
+young men were then formally and impressively sworn into the
+service of their country. They were now cadets, even if only new
+plebes.
+
+Why "new" plebes! Because, under the new system, with
+candidates admitted in March, there is still a "plebe" class above
+them who remain plebes until commencement in June. Hence the
+distinction between old and new "plebes."
+
+In the presence of all plebes the yearlings and other upper class
+men keep themselves loftily apart, except when compelled to drill
+the plebes or perform other military or other official duties with
+plebes.
+
+The plebe, old or new, is still but a "beast"--a being unfitted for
+intimate contact with upper class men. The plebe is not an outcast.
+He is merely fifteen months on probation with his upper class
+comrades. Unhappy as the lot of the freshman is at some of our
+colleges, the plebe at West Point is of far less importance in the
+eyes of the upper classes.
+
+Early every morning cadet corporals marched squads of new
+plebes out into the open and put them through the mysteries of the
+Army "setting-up" drills. These drills are effective in giving the
+new man, in an almost marvelously short time, the correct military
+carriage and physical deportment. Between these and the squad,
+platoon and company drills, it is truly wonderful how rapidly the
+new cadet begins to drop his former awkwardness.
+
+The new plebes had now drawn their uniforms and rapidly learned
+the care of these parts of the soldier's wardrobe. They were also
+taught the proper occasions for wearing each article of uniform.
+
+Academic studies had now begun in earnest too. The idea in requiring
+cadets to begin in March instead of in June, as formerly, is that they
+may have three months in which to become accustomed to the fearfully
+exacting requirements of study and recitation in force at West Point.
+
+It was a proud day for all these new plebes when they "drew" their
+rifles and bayonets and began the laborious study of the manual of
+arms.
+
+One after another, as fast as they were sufficiently proficient, the
+new plebes were sent into one of the companies into which the
+Corps of Cadets is divided.
+
+Cadet Prescott entered D Company four days before Greg Holmes
+was assigned to the same company. Dick's success indeed spurred
+Greg on to new efforts, although poor young Holmes had felt that
+he was working as hard already as human flesh could endure.
+
+Early in April nearly all of the new plebes had joined their
+companies. It was a wholly new, revolutionized life.
+
+Many of the new plebes had come from homes of luxury, where
+servants had abounded.
+
+But here at West Point former social lines had no significance,
+unless it was to invite trouble down upon the head of any new
+cadet who felt inclined to be priggish.
+
+No cadet had a servant, nor could he engage anyone to perform
+any of his own duties for him.
+
+Each cadet in the entire corps rose at the tap of a
+drum--"reveille"--at 5.45 A.M.
+
+At the first sound of reveille every young man sprang from his bed.
+Then followed hasty but orderly dressing and the making of the
+toilet. The cadet must be spick and span.
+
+Incidentally, but promptly, he fell to policing. The room must be in
+order, and the bed made up exactly in accordance with the
+regulations on the subject. All clothing must be hung as prescribed
+in the regulations. A match end or a scrap of paper on the floor
+brought reprimand and demerits.
+
+"Policing" is the orderly care of quarters. At 6.20 police call
+sounded on the drum outside in the area. Then came a swift but
+all-seeing inspection of every occupied room in barracks.
+
+Swiftly, indeed, was this done, for at 6.30 the tap of the drum
+sounded mess call for breakfast. The cadet corps formed outside
+the north sally port and marched to breakfast.
+
+About seven o'clock breakfast ended. The corps marched back to
+barracks and was dismissed.
+
+By 7.15 every young man was hard at work, "boning" hard over the
+studies in which he must recite during the forenoon. He "boned"
+until 7.55. Then, in his own appropriate section, he marched off to
+the Academic Building, remaining in the section room, under the
+instruction or quizzing of some officer of the Army until 9.20.
+
+Now the new plebe, like the cadets of all classes, marched back to
+his room. At his desk he studied until summoned at 10.55 for the
+second recitation of the day, in some other subject.
+
+At 12.10 he was dismissed from this second period of recitation,
+but 12.20 found the young man in dinner formation. From this
+mid-day meal the cadet reached barracks at 1.10. Now he had
+some time with which to do as he pleased; to be exact, he had
+fifteen minutes. At 1.25 the freshman marched off to recitation in
+English, history or French. At 2.30 the cadet found himself back in
+his room, forced to study, as few young men ever study in civil
+life, until 3.30.
+
+From 3.30 to 6.25 P.M. the plebe was allowed to do as he pleased
+with his time, provided that in so doing he broke none of the
+regulations. He might amuse himself in various ways. He was at
+liberty to go over to the library, to read, for instance; he might call
+at officers' houses on the post on Saturday or Sunday afternoon if
+invited; he was at liberty to take a walk--within cadet limits. Or, if
+he felt the need of something really "wild" in the way of
+diversion, the lucky plebe was permitted to go over to the
+Academic Building and examine the mineralogical or geological
+collection!
+
+As a matter of fact, the plebe who in most instances was doing
+badly with the great amount of study and recitation required of
+him, was likely to spend most of his afternoon leisure in "boning"
+the studies in which he was deficient or which he found difficult to
+master.
+
+At 6.25 came the call for supper formation. That meal was through
+at about seven in the evening. Then came study time, lasting until
+9.30 in the evening. At 9.30 the plebe was at liberty to turn down
+his mattress and go to bed, if he felt tired enough; if not, he was at
+liberty to study a little longer.
+
+At 10.30, however, taps sounded on a drum just inside the north
+sally port. Now Mr. Plebe was obliged to turn out his light,
+instanter, and be in bed against the visit of the subdivision
+inspector, an upper class cadet, immediately afterward. If Mr.
+Plebe failed to be in bed he was reported--"skinned"--and punished
+accordingly.
+
+In between there were always the drills, the gymnasium work,
+inspections, guard mount for each plebe about once a week after
+he had been admitted to the ranks of the battalion.
+
+To the boy fresh from home it is a fearfully hard lot at first. That
+it can be lived through and endured, however, is proved by the fact
+that about six out of ten of the cadets who enter at West Point
+manage to graduate, and go forth into the Army, splendid
+specimens of physical and mental manhood. Very few of the
+cadets who fail at West Point and are dropped go away from the
+Military Academy without a mist before their eyes.
+
+The plebes at West Point are not ostracized by the upper class
+men. These new men are merely "kept in their places" with great
+severity, and without any encouragement whatever. If the plebe
+can't stand it, then he is plainly not of the stuff to make a
+soldier. If he does stand it, he goes on into the upper classes,
+one after another, graduates and is commissioned by the President
+as a second lieutenant in the United States Army.
+
+It is a hard ordeal, that fellowship of "nothingness" during the
+first portion of the West Point course.
+
+Homesickness is the worst ailment of the new cadet. Day by day
+he grows more homesick until it seems to him that he simply
+cannot endure the Military Academy for another twenty-four
+hours.
+
+One afternoon, while taking a walk as a relief from too hard
+application to his mathematics, Cadet Dick Prescott stumbled
+upon some news that made him open his eyes very wide.
+
+"Well, of all things!" he growled to himself.
+
+Then he walked faster.
+
+"Greg must hear of this," muttered the new plebe.
+
+Going down the street at military stride, Cadet Prescott turned in at
+the north sally port, stepped briskly along one of the walks,
+bounded up the steps and in at the outer door of the subdivision in
+which he dwelt.
+
+Up the stairs with considerable speed went Cadet Prescott, still
+revolving in his mind the news upon which he had stumbled.
+
+"What on earth will Greg think?" throbbed the new plebe.
+
+In a very short time Prescott's hurrying feet carried him to the door
+of his room on the top floor. The door yielded as Dick put his hand
+to the knob.
+
+"Greg, what do you think?" whispered Dick breathlessly, as he
+went quickly into the room and toward his roommate, who sat bent
+over his study table.
+
+The very attitude was unmilitary--a fact that struck Prescott
+suddenly.
+
+Then Greg, hearing his roommate's voice, raised his head
+somewhat and wheeled about in his chair.
+
+What a woebegone face Cadet Gregory Holmes presented!
+
+"Greg, what on earth is the matter?" demanded Dick, halting short
+and staring hard.
+
+"I can't help it," replied Greg miserably, shaking his head.
+
+"Can't help what?" demanded Dick thunder-struck.
+
+"I can't help what I've gone and done. I had to do it!" cried Greg,
+with sudden fierceness in his tone.
+
+"What you've done?" echoed Dick. "Well, what have you gone and
+done, anyway, old fellow? Does it stop anywhere short of
+murder--or lying?"
+
+For in the West Point code of honor lying ranks very nearly as bad
+as murder.
+
+"I guess perhaps it isn't quite as bad as either," smiled Greg wanly.
+"However, I couldn't help doing it."
+
+He rose to his feet, a bit unsteadily, leaning one hand on his study
+desk.
+
+Greg's hair was a bit awry, as though he had run his hands many
+times through it in some mood of desperation. This, in itself, was
+in defiance of West Point traditions for the personal neatness of
+the cadet.
+
+"You still have me altogether in the dark, Greg," murmured Dick
+wonderingly.
+
+"You'll lose all respect for me, Dick," went on Greg miserably.
+
+"Then it must be something awfully bad that you've done," retorted
+Dick, opening his eyes wider than ever.
+
+Without another word Greg reached to his desk, picked up a sheet
+of paper and in silence passed it over to his comrade.
+
+Dick read with a gathering of his eyebrows. Then gradually a look
+of anger shot into his clear eyes.
+
+"Greg Holmes," uttered the other cadet indignantly, "you're a
+disgrace to your native town of Gridley!"
+
+"Well, what are you going to do about it!" demanded Greg almost
+defiantly.
+
+"Do?" retorted Cadet Prescott. "I believe I'll thrash you--just for
+being a disgrace to our native place!"
+
+Not intending anything of the sort, but merely as a dramatic
+expression of his rage, Dick doubled one fist, advancing upon
+Holmes.
+
+At that instant the door was flung open. Cadet Lieutenant Edwards,
+of the first class, strode into the room.
+
+Instantly both cadets straightened, where they were, standing at
+"attention," as required to do when a superior officer entered their
+quarters.
+
+"What is this?" demanded Cadet Lieutenant Edwards, though
+betraying no more than official curiosity in his tone. "Have I
+entered just in time to prevent a fight!"
+
+"No, sir," replied Cadet Prescott.
+
+"Then what!"
+
+"Sir," responded Cadet Prescott, "I wish to report my roommate,
+Mr. Holmes, for writing this letter!"
+
+Dick held out the sheet of paper, which the cadet lieutenant
+scanned earnestly.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+GREG'S CASE OF "BLUES"
+
+
+Only a moment did Mr. Edwards need for the reading of Greg's
+note. Then the cadet lieutenant frowned at Dick.
+
+"Mr. Prescott, what do you mean by perpetrating a poor-spirited
+joke under the guise of making an official communication?"
+
+In an instant Dick saw clearly that be had made a military mistake.
+
+"I beg your pardon, sir," he said meekly.
+
+"This may all be a joke to you, Mr. Prescott," went on the cadet
+officer dryly, "but I presume it is none whatever to Mr. Holmes."
+
+As he hadn't been addressed, Greg did not venture to answer. He
+stood rigidly at attention, though both he and Dick were flushing.
+
+The paper that Mr. Edwards now held in his hand read as follows:
+
+"To THE SUPERINTENDENT,"
+
+"THE UNITED STATES MILITARY ACADEMY."
+
+"Sir: I have the honor herewith to tender my resignation as a cadet
+in the United States Military Academy, the same to take effect
+immediately. I have the honor to be, sir,"
+
+"Very respectfully,"
+
+"GREGORY HOLMES."
+
+"So that's the way you feel about it, is it, Mr. Holmes?"
+questioned the cadet lieutenant, after a second glance at the
+paper.
+
+"Yes, sir," replied Greg.
+
+"This is the fourth letter of the kind that I've seen this week,"
+continued Mr. Edwards stiffly, though a curious smile played
+about the corners of his mouth. "I presume that two or three dozen,
+at least, of the same sort have been written by the new plebes. Mr.
+Holmes, do you know what was done with the other letters of
+resignation that I saw?"
+
+"No, sir."
+
+"Their writers tore them up," went on the cadet lieutenant stiffly.
+"Now, Mr. Holmes, if you persist in believing that you want to send
+this letter in to the superintendent, then I think it will be the best
+thing you can do; for if you still persist in wanting to resign, then
+you haven't manhood enough, anyway, to make a fit brother-in-arms for
+the comrades in your class."
+
+This was severely said. Greg paled under the verbal thrashing.
+
+"If you really wish to send in this letter," continued Mr. Edwards,
+"you have a perfect right to do it, Mr. Holmes."
+
+"May I speak, sir?" asked Greg when the cadet lieutenant ceased
+talking, but remained looking fixedly at the new plebe.
+
+"Proceed," replied Mr. Edwards.
+
+"May I have that letter, sir?"
+
+The cadet lieutenant handed it back without a word.
+
+"May I--may I--"
+
+"Out with it, Mr. Holmes."
+
+"May I handle this letter at once in the way that I now wish, sir?"
+
+"You may."
+
+Greg, his face again flushing painfully, tore the sheet into small
+bits, turning and tossing them into his waste basket. Then he again
+wheeled, standing at attention.
+
+"Stand at ease, mister," ordered Mr. Edwards, dropping out of his
+official tone and manner. "Now, mister, will it do you any good if I
+explain a few little things about life here at West Point?"
+
+"I shall be very glad, indeed, sir, if you will be good enough,"
+replied Greg rather shamefacedly.
+
+"In the first place, mister," went on the cadet lieutenant, sitting,
+now, with one leg thrown over the corner of Greg's desk, "the
+homesickness that has hit you touches every other man who comes
+here. It's a mighty hard-working life here, and I'll admit, mister,
+that it's very cheerless during the plebe year.
+
+"You think you are looked down upon, and regarded as being
+beneath contempt, mister. That sort of treatment for a plebe is
+believed to be necessary here. Grant got it; so did Sherman; so did
+Sheridan. George Washington would have been treated in just the
+same manner had there been a West Point for him to go to.
+
+"It isn't because of what we upper class men think of you. It's
+because of what we're waiting to find out. I don't know anything
+about your connections in your home town. You may have been a
+great fellow there. You may, for all I know, have had a home of
+wealth, luxury and refinement. Your father may be a man of great
+importance in the nation. I don't know anything about that, and I
+don't care about it, either, mister. From the moment you start in at
+West Point, you start your life all over again, and you stand on
+nothing but your own merits. We don't know how much merit you
+have, and we shan't know until you've gone through with your
+plebe year and have proved whether you're a man or not. If we
+find, a year from this coming summer, that you're a man, we'll
+welcome you into the heartiest comradeship of all the corps.
+Mister, I've said a lot more to you than most upper class men
+would waste the time to say. Choose your own course, and prove
+where you stand."
+
+Then Cadet Lieutenant Edwards turned around to Cadet Prescott
+with a look that made that Gridley boy feel rather uncomfortable.
+
+"As for you, mister, never again, while you're a plebe, be so b.j.
+(fresh) as to try a joke with an upper class man. If there's one thing,
+mister, that gets a plebe into three times as much trouble as any
+other thing, then it's b.j.-ety!" (freshness).
+
+Of a sudden the cadet lieutenant returned to his feet, resuming all
+the dignified demeanor of the cadet officer on duty.
+
+Instantly Dick and Greg stood once more at "attention" until Mr.
+Edwards had turned on his heel and left the room.
+
+"Hm!" murmured Dick, as they heard the lieutenant's retreating
+footsteps. "We've both had a jolly good lesson."
+
+"You didn't do much," muttered Greg shamefacedly. "I wouldn't
+feel so bad about a call down over a bit of ordinary b.j.-ety. I was
+scorched and withered for being a cold-foot and a quitter--and I
+deserve it all, and more!"
+
+"I'm glad you see that, old Gridley!" murmured Cadet Dick
+heartily. "Now, Greg, you won't write another letter of resignation,
+will you?"
+
+"Not if I die of homesickness and melancholy!" muttered Greg,
+clenching his hands.
+
+"Now, after letting you in for an awful verbal flogging," smiled
+Dick curiously, "I'll let you into a secret. I wrote a letter of
+resignation, too."
+
+"When?" gasped Cadet Holmes amazed.
+
+"Two days ago," confessed Dick. "I read it through six times before
+sending it to the superintendent."
+
+"You didn't--send it to the superintendent?" gasped Greg.
+
+"No; because I also tore it to fine bits before sending it to
+headquarters--and so the letter never reached the one to whom it
+was addressed," laughed Cadet Prescott. "Now, look here, Greg.
+Admit that you were a prize simpleton, just as I was. Let's start
+anew--with a bang-up motto. This is it: 'A Gridley boy may die, but
+resign--never!'"
+
+Dick struck such a dramatic attitude that both poor young plebes
+began to laugh heartily.
+
+"Oh, and now for the news that brought me back here hotfoot," ran
+on Prescott glibly. "Greg, you never could guess who's here at
+West Point."
+
+"The President, or the Chief of the General Staff?" asked Holmes
+slowly.
+
+"Oh, pshaw, no! They don't either one amount to as much as the
+fellow I'm talking about thinks he amounts to."
+
+"Whom did our Senators appoint to the Academy?" asked Prescott
+after a pause.
+
+"Me," admitted Greg, again turning red.
+
+"Well, whom did the other Senator appoint!"
+
+"A fellow named Spooner, who came here and 'fessed out' cold
+(failed badly) on the academic exam," Greg responded.
+
+"Who was Spooner's alternate!" persisted Dick.
+
+"I don't believe I remember," Greg replied slowly.
+
+"No; and that was because neither you nor I ever knew. Spooner's
+alternate was--Bert Dodge!"
+
+"What? Bert Dodge, of Gridley?" demanded Cadet Holmes
+astonished.
+
+"That very chap," Prescott admitted. "When Spooner went home,
+after 'fessing out' here, Bert Dodge, who hadn't appeared, was
+ordered by wire to report at once, or have his name stricken out.
+Bert's physician wired the War Department that the young fellow
+was ill, though the illness would not delay him more than a few
+days. So Bert was given a brief grace. Well, sir, I've just learned
+that Dodge reported at the adjutant's office this morning. He got
+by the surgeons bounding, and to-morrow he sits down at his
+'writs.' (written examinations) in the Academic Building."
+
+"I wonder if that fellow will pass," cried Greg wonderingly.
+
+"Oh, I rather think he'll make it easily," replied Dick, seating
+himself at his own desk. "Bert wasn't a fool at his studies. He spent
+more than three years at Gridley High School, and since then has
+had a school year and a half at one of the finest prep. schools in
+the country. Oh, I guess he'll get through all right."
+
+"So we've got to have him here for a comrade!" sighed Greg
+disgustedly, as he picked up his text-book on English.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V
+
+CANDIDATE DODGE IS CRITICAL
+
+
+Both cadets had studied for ten minutes perhaps, when a knock
+sounded at their door.
+
+The very unusualness of this caused both youngsters to look
+around, then at each other.
+
+Had it been any cadet officer making an inspection--as was likely
+to happen at any minute of the waking day--he would have come
+straight into the room. And any other cadet, after knocking, would
+have followed this by opening the door and stepping inside.
+
+Rap-rap! sounded again.
+
+"Oh, come in," called Dick.
+
+The door opened. Bert Dodge, dressed in the height of the
+prevailing fashion, looked inside.
+
+"May I come in?" he called, in what was meant for a cordial,
+friend-from-home voice.
+
+"Oh, yes, come in," sighed Dick wearily.
+
+"That's not quite the welcome I might have expected from you
+two," muttered Bert, as he opened the door and stepped into the
+room. "Fellows, you're at West Point now," proceeded Bert Dodge
+pompously, "and this is a place where social points count
+tremendously, as I guess you've found out by this time. Now, you
+two may be all right, and I guess you are," admitted Bert
+condescendingly, "but you're just the sons of commoners, while my
+father is a wealthy man, a banker and a leader in society. So I
+guess you can quickly understand that I'm going to cut a good deal
+wider swath here than you two fellows put together."
+
+Greg Holmes, who had been following Dodge with a gradually
+widening grin of amazement, now burst into a hearty laugh.
+
+"Well, what's so awfully funny!" demanded Bert.
+
+"You--you--social swell!" exploded Greg hilariously. "Oh--wow!"
+
+"Oh, enjoy yourself in your own way," retorted Bert in decided
+anger, "but you'll soon find out."
+
+Then looking about the room, he remarked, going on a new tack:
+
+"I must say, you fellows are rather badly provided for showing the
+social courtesies here. You haven't even a chair for a guest."
+
+"Plebes are allowed only two chairs to a room," remarked Dick,
+rising and pulling forward his own chair. "Take mine. I'll sit on the
+corner of my table."
+
+"There's just one chair in my room," continued Bert, as he seated
+himself. "That's one reason I want to see the janitor, or steward, or
+whoever the fellow is. I'm going to tell him to put in a decent
+allowance of chairs."
+
+Greg Holmes went off into another fit of laughter.
+
+"Janitor? Steward?" sputtered Holmes. "Whew! That's great!"
+
+"There are no such servants here, Dodge," Dick explained. "In fact,
+every cadet has to learn to wait on himself in nearly everything. A
+plebe, too, has to learn to be content with whatever he has given
+him. If he even makes any talk about it he is called b.j. A cadet
+who is found guilty of b.j.-ety has to put in all his spare time
+learning to walk on one ear."
+
+"Do you mean to say you've been made to swallow stuff like that?"
+demanded Dodge, looking at Prescott in tall disdain. "Oh, well,
+you may be inclined to submit to such treatment, but I know who
+I am, and I'm not going to stand for any nonsense here. What's the
+matter with you, Holmes? Are you ill?"
+
+For Greg's face, in his efforts to stifle his mirth, had become
+violently purple.
+
+"I don't suppose you'll take advice, Dodge," continued Dick. "If I
+thought you only could do it I'd advise you to walk mighty slowly
+here, keep your lips together and not say a word until you've
+learned a lot."
+
+Dick had risen and was standing, unconsciously, in an attitude that
+showed off, in his natty cadet uniform, all the strength and grace of
+his fine and now well set-up young figure. But Bert, with a desire
+to put this other fellow "back where he belonged," remarked
+casually:
+
+"Prescott, I don't just like the fit of your coat. Who's your tailor? I
+want to get a different one. I'm going in for some of the
+swellest-fitting uniforms that any tailor around here can turn out."
+
+Greg, who had managed to breathe naturally for the last minute,
+now struggled with another of his purple-faced paroxysms.
+
+"I didn't think to ask who my tailor was," Prescott replied quickly.
+"In fact, I don't think I would have been told if I had asked. You
+see, every cadet here has to take just what clothes are issued to him
+at the cadet store. That's the rule for all cadets here."
+
+"Do you mean to tell me that I've got to wear 'hand-me-downs'?"
+demanded Bert Dodge angrily. "Save that sort of stuff for fellows
+who'll believe it."
+
+It was plain that, if Bert Dodge had dropped in with any intention
+of being neighborly and from-home, he had rapidly forgotten his
+plan.
+
+Neither Dick nor Greg had any reason for being fond of the fellow,
+even if he had once been a schoolmate at Gridley High School. Bert,
+son of Theodore Dodge, a Gridley banker, was an unpardonable
+snob. Readers of the High School Boys Series will recall how Bert had
+been one of the leaders in the "sorehead" secession from the football
+ranks at Gridley High School. That movement failing in its purpose,
+Bert had afterwards provoked Dick Prescott into striking him, and had
+then had Dick arrested for assault. The suit had failed, and Bert was
+rebuked by the court. Much more of the feud that young Dodge had
+attempted to wage upon Prescott and his High School chums was fully
+narrated in "THE HIGH SCHOOL LEFT END."
+
+It was nearly a year since Bert had seen either of these chums. That
+he had entered their room in cadet barracks full of the purpose of
+impressing them with his new importance was at once plain.
+
+Dick was just beginning to find the atmosphere oppressive when
+the door was pushed quickly open after the faintest suggestion of a
+knock.
+
+The newcomers were Cadets Pratt and Judson of the yearling class,
+known already among the plebes as two of the worst hazers.
+
+"Attention!" hissed Pratt, as he strode into the room.
+
+Neither of the visitors being a cadet officer, Dick and Greg were
+not obliged to stand at attention.
+
+However, neither new plebe was foolish enough to argue the
+matter. Dick and Greg took the pose ordered and at once.
+
+"Mister," demanded Pratt, turning upon Dick, "what is this cit.
+(citizen) doing in barracks?"
+
+"Mr. Dodge is a candidate, sir, quartered in this building, and he
+took it into his head to visit us."
+
+"What are you doing on that chair, Candy?" demanded Judson,
+flashing an angry look at Bert.
+
+"None of your business!" retorted Dodge.
+
+"You'll stand at attention!" retorted Cadet Judson, gripping Bert
+by the collar and pulling him to his feet.
+
+"That'll be about enough, Jud," warned Cadet Pratt in a low voice.
+"Remember, the fellow is nothing but a candidate."
+
+"You fellows seem to think you're mighty important," sputtered
+Bert. "I'm not in the habit of associating with hoodlums!"
+
+"Now, if that isn't the b.j.-est sunflower that ever grew in a
+farmyard," remarked Cadet Pratt, with a wink at Cadet Judson.
+
+"If you're referring to me be a bit more careful in your witticisms,"
+warned Dodge stiffly, "or I shall demand satisfaction."
+
+"Oh, you're rather certain to get all the sat. you want, I imagine
+when you're a cadet," retorted Cadet Pratt dryly. "But, Jud, our
+time is fairly running away from us, and we have yet other social
+calls to make. Our respectful farewells, misters."
+
+Turning, straight and stiff as ramrods, Cadets Pratt and Judson
+marched from the room.
+
+When their step was heard on the stairway Greg stepped over and
+closed the door.
+
+"Well, you fellows are the meekest green apples that I ever saw,"
+laughed Dodge scornfully. "You simply lay down and allowed
+those two military bullies to walk over you just as they chose. Do
+you expect to get through West Point like men, if you have no
+more self-pride than that?"
+
+"I'm heartily glad you've joined us here, Dodge," murmured Greg
+artlessly. "You'll show us, by your own example, just how to stand
+up for our rights."
+
+"Humph! I hope you'll be able to learn," grunted Bert, rising as he
+glanced at his watch.
+
+Then he went on, a trace more amiably:
+
+"I find I've got to go back to my room and prepare for supper.
+Now, fellows, we haven't always gotten along in the best shape at
+home. But here at West Point I suppose we all start life on somewhat
+of a new footing. I'm willing to let by-gones be by-gones if you
+don't presume altogether too much on coming from the same home
+town. Keep your places with me, and we'll try to go along on a
+somewhat pleasanter basis than in the past. Let us try to forget the
+past. Ta-ta, fellows. See you at the supper table."
+
+Bert stalked out loftily, with a considerable appreciation of his
+condescension toward two fellows whom he had been wont, in
+past years, to call muckers.
+
+"Hold me!" begged Greg hoarsely. "I'm going to have a fit. Oh,
+wow! Dick, just think of that poor b.j. lamb falling into the hands
+of the yearlings! What'll they ever do with him?"
+
+"Greg, it has been hard enough on us to get used to the new ways
+at West Point. But we'll never mind anything during the rest of our
+plebedom. No matter what happens to us we'll just remember how
+much more is bound to happen to pompous old Dodge."
+
+Dick returned to his table, picking up his text-book on French.
+Greg honestly tried to study, but every other minute he simply had
+to stop to laugh at the thought of Bert and his pompous ways.
+
+Finally, when he could restrain himself no longer, Greg broke
+forth:
+
+"Dick, old ramrod, no matter what happens to me, now I can stand
+it by thinking of Bert Dodge being here!"
+
+"I hope he doesn't start his old tactics of making trouble," muttered
+Cadet Prescott.
+
+"If he does, he'll have most of the trouble in his own possession,"
+grinned Greg. "West Point is a place where manliness has the only
+real show."
+
+"Yes, but a sneak can make an awful lot of trouble," sighed Dick.
+"Not that I mean to call Dodge a sneak, though. I am in hopes that
+he'll prove anything but that. From the minute that a fellow enters
+the Military Academy he starts in life all over again. So,
+remember, Greg, we won't be prepared to hate or distrust Dodge,
+and we'll lose a hand before we'll utter a word against him, based
+on anything that happened in the past."
+
+"That's the square deal, and the West Point ideal," nodded Greg,
+who was rapidly forgetting the letter, the fragments of which were
+now in his waste basket. "Who knows but that, in this new
+atmosphere, Bert Dodge may turn out to be a man? West Point will
+do that very thing for him, if any new surroundings can."
+
+As the battalion marched to supper that night Bert Dodge felt in
+his heart that hazing must already have started for him; for, being
+the only candidate left at West Point, and having no uniform as
+yet, Dodge was compelled to march, in his rather gay "cit." attire,
+at the extreme end of the battalion line.
+
+Bert did not march quite alone, however.
+
+Just behind him, majestic, unbending, lynx-eyed and exacting,
+marched Cadet Corporal Spurlock, who was known as the "worst"
+(strictest) of the Yearling cadet officers.
+
+"Chest out, Mr. Dodge! Don't wobble so at the knees, sir! Can't
+you carry yourself straight? Take your chin away from your
+chest, Mr. Dodge. Try to keep step, sir. Follow my count--hep! hep!
+hep! hep! Mr. Dodge, you're out of step! When I call 'hep' put your
+left foot down, sir! But don't keep it down, sir!" added the
+exasperated cadet corporal in a furious undertone, as Bert came to
+a dead halt. "Mr. Dodge, try to exhibit something close to
+intelligence. Now, again, sir! Hep! hep! hep! hep!"
+
+An Army officer stationed at the post drove by on a springboard.
+Three young women were with him. They saw and partly understood. The
+peal of laughter that floated back from them brought a flush to the
+face of the green, pestered candidate.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI
+
+IN THE HANDS OF THE YEARLING HAZERS
+
+
+Under the hard grilling of cadet corporal Spurlock, Bert Dodge
+actually made a lot of progress within the next few days.
+
+Dodge learned that, whenever addressing an officer, whether that
+officer were a cadet officer, or one of the Regular Army officers
+stationed at the Academy as instructors, he must add "sir" to every
+communication. He also learned that he must not address any
+superior officer unless first addressed by him.
+
+Bert also picked up rapidly the knowledge that he was no better
+than anyone else, and of not a thousandth part of the importance of
+any upper class man.
+
+Much of this the young man picked up from his new roommate,
+Tom Anstey, a soft-eyed, soft-voiced, helpful and sunny young
+man from Virginia. Anstey was one of the best-liked men in his
+class, but the new plebes at first held almost aloof from Dodge.
+
+"Whatever you do," urged Anstey, "don't make the mistake of
+trying to cultivate the acquaintance of any of the upper class men."
+
+"I've encountered two already," muttered Bert.
+
+"Oh!" and Anstey smiled wonderingly.
+
+"Pratt and Judson, of the yearlings," Dodge continued, then related
+what had happened in the room of Cadets Prescott and Holmes.
+
+"I guess you're going to be in for it, presently, Dodge," nodded
+Cadet Anstey. "Mr. Pratt and Mr. Judson are known as two
+terrors."
+
+"They don't want to try to pass any of their terror on to me,"
+growled Bert.
+
+Whereupon Mr. Anstey took his roommate in hand, gently and
+genially, and tried to make that new cadet--for Bert had passed his
+academic exams. without even a hint of trouble--understand how
+worse than foolish it would be to attempt to antagonize the upper
+class men.
+
+"You come from the same place that Prescott and Holmes do, don't
+you?" asked Anstey, one afternoon, as the roommates rested from
+study.
+
+"I'm glad to say I don't," replied Bert, almost brusquely.
+
+"Oh!" nodded Anstey.
+
+"I suppose we've got to be comrades, now, but I don't like that pair
+an over-lot," Bert explained.
+
+"Odd! Most of the new plebes like Prescott and Holmes all the way
+up, and then all the way down again," murmured Anstey seriously.
+"For myself, I don't know any two fellows in the new lot
+that I like better."
+
+"Oh, I guess they're all right in a good many ways," admitted Bert
+slowly. "Only we never managed to hitch--that's all. You asked me
+if I came from the same place. I used to live in Gridley, but
+I--er--well, I went away to Fordham to another school. My father had
+a summer place in Fordham, and he took up his voting residence in
+Fordham, though spending a good part of his winters in Gridley.
+That's how I'm credited to Fordham, not Gridley."
+
+"Thank you for telling me," nodded Anstey. "I had just been
+wondering if it were not crowding things a bit to send three young
+men all from Gridley."
+
+"I'm not only not from Gridley, but I came in as an alternate,
+anyway."
+
+"How are you getting on with Corporal Spurlock?" asked Anstey.
+
+"That fellow? Oh, hang him! Spurlock drives me wild. I came
+within a hair's breadth of applying to the commandant of cadets for
+a new instructor in drill. Only you told me that no heed would be
+paid to such a request from a new plebe."
+
+"I should rather say not," grinned Anstey. "However, you'll be
+through the prelim. grind soon, and then you'll be admitted to a
+company in the battalion."
+
+"I'm fitted for it now," growled Bert.
+
+"You won't get into a company, though, until Corporal Spurlock
+reports you as fitted."
+
+"That fellow is the most rascally tyrant I ever saw anywhere,"
+growled Bert, picking up a text-book on mathematics.
+
+By this time the season of outdoor drills and daily dress parade had
+arrived. This particular afternoon, however, in the latter part of
+March, a heavy, blinding snowstorm had come along. Cadets were
+nearly all in barracks, therefore, and those who had the most need
+were studying hard.
+
+"I've boned math., boned French, boned English," muttered Anstey,
+at last. "Now, I think I'll go over and bone Prescott and Holmes.
+Feel like going along with me!"
+
+Bert frowned somewhat. He didn't care to "approve" of the two
+Gridley boys too much. But it was so deadly dull in this room that
+Dodge didn't care to be left alone, either.
+
+"Oh, I'll go," nodded Dodge, closing a book with a snap and rising.
+"But I'd like it even better if you had some one else in mind to
+visit."
+
+"You see," almost apologized Anstey, "I want to see Prescott and
+Holmes particularly because I've been talking over football with
+them, and they've been telling me a lot about their high school
+eleven that was right smart and interesting."
+
+Bert said no more. If his ancient foes were going to tell Anstey
+about the old football days back in Gridley, then Bert feared they
+might be tempted to tell a lot that would bring up his unpopular
+share in those spirited old days.
+
+"But Prescott and his shadow won't dare to say anything against me
+if I'm sitting right there in the room," muttered Bert to himself.
+
+So he and Anstey presented themselves at Dick and Greg's door.
+Bert was almost amazed to find himself pleasantly greeted, but
+Dick and Greg were true to their decision to bury the hatchet of the
+past if possible.
+
+It was nearly time to light the gas. In the fading light Anstey
+walked over to a window, watching the snow swirl down into the
+area outside. At West Point the snowstorms are famous for their
+severity.
+
+"Hang it!" growled Anstey. "I don't suppose you can ever make a
+Virginian like myself grow to like this beastly winter weather. And
+I miss the drills and dress parade. Don't you?"
+
+"Yes," nodded Dick. "I miss everything of an outdoor nature, when
+it is withheld from me."
+
+"Oh, if you're missing outdoors just now, you might go out and
+keep on, within cadet limits, until you've tramped five miles,"
+grinned the cadet from Virginia.
+
+"If some of the upper class men found that we liked to be out in a
+snowstorm, I'm afraid they'd make us stand on our heads in a
+drift," laughed Cadet Holmes.
+
+"Speaking of that," continued Anstey, wheeling about, "have any
+of you fellows run into real hazing as yet?"
+
+"Not I," replied Prescott, with a shake of his head.
+
+"Nor I," added Greg.
+
+"It's a shame that we should be expected to put up with any such
+nonsense," growled Cadet Dodge belligerently. "Who are the
+yearlings that they should feel at liberty to rub our noses in the
+mud! We plebes ought to combine to put a stop to this outrage.
+Now, I'd like to see any smart year--"
+
+"Eh!" called a voice, cheerily, as the door was thrust open.
+Yearling cadets Pratt and Judson stepped into the room.
+
+Instantly three of the plebes present rose and stood at attention.
+Bert Dodge didn't.
+
+"What has got into your sense of military manners, mister!"
+demanded Cadet Pratt, transfixing Bert with a haughty stare.
+
+"What's wrong with my manners!" demanded Cadet Dodge.
+
+"What's that!" cried Pratt.
+
+"What's wrong with my manners!" repeated Dodge, though a bit
+more tractably.
+
+"What?"
+
+"What is wrong with my manners, sir!" Bert amended.
+
+"That's just a shade better, mister," admitted Yearling Pratt. "But
+you are too sparing of your 'sirs,' mister. Now, answer me again,
+and use 'sir' after each word."
+
+Plebe Dodge gulped hard, but Pratt and Judson were glaring at
+him. So he began:
+
+"What, sir, is, sir, wrong, sir, with, sir, my, sir, manners, sir!"
+
+"Mister, why didn't you stand at attention when we entered the
+room!"
+
+"Because you're not--"
+
+"What!" exploded Yearling Judson.
+
+"Because, sir, you're, sir, not, sir, my, sir, superior, sir,
+officers, sir."
+
+"Are we yearlings!"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"And what are you!" demanded Cadet Judson, with infinite
+contempt.
+
+"Only, sir, a, sir, plebe, sir."
+
+"Mangy, unkempt, uncouth and offensive, are you not!"
+
+Bert flared and swallowed hard, but he responded, very meekly:
+
+"Yes, Sir."
+
+"You're--what?"
+
+"A, sir, mangy, sir, unkempt, sir, uncouth, sir, and, sir, offensive,
+sir, plebe, sir."
+
+"Very true," nodded Mr. Pratt. "But, at least, mister, you have
+learned how to answer a yearling or any other superior, haven't
+you!"
+
+"Yes, sir," Bert meekly assented.
+
+"But there's one thing the poor beast doesn't know how to do yet,"
+observed Mr. Judson, turning to his classmate. "He doesn't
+understand how to stand at attention when he is honored by a
+yearling's visit."
+
+"Teach him--if you find that he's intelligent enough," advised
+Yearling Pratt.
+
+"Turn down that mattress, mister," commanded Mr. Judson,
+pointing to Dick Prescott's iron cot.
+
+Bert made the mistake of looking first at Cadet Prescott for
+permission.
+
+"Now, mister, what makes you hesitate!" fumed Mr. Judson.
+
+"It isn't my cot, sir," replied Dodge.
+
+"What?"
+
+"It, sir, is, sir, not, sir, my, sir, cot, sir."
+
+"That has nothing to do with your orders. Turn down that
+mattress!"
+
+Bert obeyed with great alacrity.
+
+"Now, then, mister," ordered Yearling Judson, "get up on that
+mattress, and stand at attention upside down!"
+
+It took Bert Dodge a few precious seconds to understand the full
+nature of the ignominious thing he had to do.
+
+This was neither more nor less than to stand on his head on the
+mattress. He could rest his hands beside his head, at the outset,
+bracing his feet against the wall. So far it was not difficult. But--
+
+"Don't you know the position of attention, mister!" demanded
+Cadet Pratt, with feigned anger. "Your hands should hang naturally
+at your sides, the little finger touching the seam of the trousers."
+
+Now, in this inverted position the hands "hung" anything but
+"naturally" at the sides. In fact, Bert had to hold his hands up in the
+air in order to have the little fingers touch the seams of the
+trousers.
+
+Standing on his head, in this fashion, without support, was
+something that taxed all of Mr. Dodge's athletic powers. He had to
+try over again, more than a half a dozen times, ere he achieved a
+decent performance of this gymnastic feat.
+
+"Now, let us see how good a soldier you are, mister," commanded
+Yearling Pratt, turning around upon Plebe Anstey.
+
+Anstey's cheeks were just a bit pale, from suppressed anger, but he
+speedily mastered this novel way of standing at attention, and did
+it to the satisfaction of the hazers.
+
+Then Dick and Greg did it, and rather better than either of their
+predecessors. The old gym. and field work of training for the
+Gridley High School teams had hardened their muscles in a way
+that stood them in good stead now.
+
+"Brace, mister!" commanded Yearling Judson, focusing his gaze
+on smarting Bert Dodge.
+
+Bert knew what that meant, from hearsay, and didn't pretend that
+he didn't. This time he took the position of attention on his feet,
+and then exaggerated the position by throwing his head and
+shoulders as far back as he could, standing rigidly in this latter
+position.
+
+It isn't much of a thing to do, as far as taking the attitude goes. It
+is the length of time a plebe is kept at a "brace" that makes it count
+as an effective form of hazing. "Bracing" is generations old at
+West Point. The theory of upper class men has always been that
+bracing, long continued, fastens the principles of erect carriage
+upon a plebe, and teaches him, more quickly than anything else
+could, how to hold himself and to walk.
+
+Dick, Greg and Anstey were likewise soon straining themselves in
+the "brace" attitude. And mighty funny these four hapless plebes
+looked as they stood thus, wondering when the hazers would let up
+on them. But Yearlings Pratt and Judson looked on grimly,
+warning any plebe as often as the offender showed a disposition to
+lessen the severity of his "brace."
+
+How everyone of the four ached can be determined by the reader if
+he will take the full position of the brace, and hold it steadily for
+ten or fifteen minutes by a friend's watch.
+
+Dodge began to wobble at last. Anstey was sticking it out pluckily,
+but knew his endurance must soon give out. Dick and Greg felt
+their back muscles and nerves throbbing. Yet neither Judson nor
+Pratt showed any intention of giving the command to stop.
+
+Suddenly a quick step was heard in the hallway outside.
+
+Anyone who has been at the Military Academy as long as had Pratt
+and Judson knew the meaning of that particular, swift step.
+
+One of the "tacs.," as the tactical officers are called, was making
+an unscheduled tour of inspection. For an upper class man to be
+caught hazing, or for a plebe to be caught submitting, was equally
+dangerous to either yearling or plebe! It might mean dismissal.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII
+
+A SUDDEN GRIND AT MATH.
+
+
+Had Dick's been the first door opened six cadets would have been
+instantly in serious trouble.
+
+Fortunately the door across the corridor was the first to be opened,
+and the six on this side of the hallway heard another cadet's voice
+call quietly:
+
+"Attention!"
+
+It was, therefore, a tactical officer making an inspection.
+
+At the United States Military Academy the superintendent, who
+has the local rank of colonel, is at the head of this government
+institution in all its departments.
+
+Discipline, however, and training in tactics, comes within the
+especial province of another officer, known as the commandant of
+cadets, who ranks locally as a lieutenant-colonel, and who gets in
+closer touch with the cadet corps.
+
+Under the commandant of cadets are several other Army officers,
+captains and lieutenants, who take upon themselves the numerous
+duties of which the commandant has oversight. These subordinate
+officers in the tactical department are known as tactical officers.
+The cadets call them "tac.s."
+
+Each day one of these "tac.s" is in charge at the office of the
+commandant, which is in cadet headquarter's building, on the
+south side of the area of cadet barracks.
+
+This officer, who is in charge for a full period of twenty-four
+hours, when his turn comes, is officially designated as the "officer
+in charge." Among the cadets he is privately referred to as the
+"O.C." In a similar way, in cadet parlance, the commandant himself
+is known as the "K.C."
+
+Now, one of the numerous duties of the O.C., who is an Army
+officer and himself a graduate of West Point, is to make sudden,
+unexpected tours of inspection whenever the fancy--or the
+suspicion--seizes him.
+
+Such an inspection need by no means extend through the whole of
+cadet barracks. It may, for that matter, be only to one subdivision,
+or even to a single floor or room of one subdivision. Yet record
+must be kept of such inspections, and of any offenses against
+discipline that may be discovered by such a flying visit.
+
+A scrap of paper on the floor, a match end on a study table, any
+article of furniture or clothing out of its proper place, or any
+undress or untidiness on the part of a cadet, constitutes a breach of
+discipline, and must be reported and atoned for. Naturally, a case
+of hazing would be a most serious "delinquency," as breaches of
+discipline are termed.
+
+Just what Captain Vesey, O.C., on this day, expected to discover
+through the present flying inspection will never be known. If he
+had tried Dick's door first. [Transcriber's note: missing text?]
+
+But he didn't.
+
+However, there was no chance whatever for Yearlings Pratt and
+Judson to retreat unseen. The door across the hall had been left
+open, and the tac. would be sure to detect their sudden departure.
+
+Dick Prescott's first movement was to pounce upon his disordered
+bedding, swiftly folding over the mattress, and laying the bed
+clothing in the prescribed manner.
+
+Then he tiptoed up to the dismayed Judson, whispering in that
+yearling's ear as he knowingly winked at Pratt:
+
+"If I'm not too abominably b.j., sir, won't you please come to my
+table and help me bone math?"
+
+It looked like a saving inspiration. As Dick slipped into his chair
+he signed to Bert Dodge to stand at one end of the table. Judson
+snatched up one of Dick's mathematical textbooks, opening to one
+of the first pages at random. Dick turned sideways in his chair,
+glancing up at the yearling with a rapt expression.
+
+Yearling Pratt slipped into Greg's chair. Holmes and Anstey stood
+on either side of him. Pratt began rapidly to sketch out a problem
+that he chanced to remember from plebe year math.
+
+Almost instantly the door swung open. Not one of the cadets
+happened to be looking in that direction. As Captain Vesey, the
+tac., white-gloved, stepped into the room he was just in time to
+hear Cadet Judson say:
+
+"Perhaps if you were to work out a formula in algebra, mister, you
+would find the idea even more clear. But I think you understand it
+now."
+
+"Yes, sir, thank you," replied Cadet Prescott.
+
+"This is the way I would explain the problem," murmured Mr.
+Pratt, to Greg and Anstey. Just at that instant the yearling looked as
+though butter couldn't melt in his mouth.
+
+Turning a bit, Pratt caught sight of the tac., who stood looking on
+as though transformed with wonder.
+
+"Attention!" called Pratt at once.
+
+All the others wheeled, Dick rising in order to do so. Six young
+men who looked intensely earnest over study, faced the O.C.
+respectfully.
+
+Doubtless a bit taken back, certainly so if he had expected to find
+anything wrong, Captain Vesey took two steps into the room,
+glanced about him, then wheeled and walked out.
+
+"I must be going now," uttered Yearling Judson a moment later.
+"Call on me again, once in a while, if you need any help in math."
+
+"Thank you very much, sir," murmured Cadet Prescott respectfully.
+
+"Coming along now, Pratt?" called Judson.
+
+"Yes; I must be getting back to my own bone," replied Yearling
+Pratt.
+
+It would have been out of the question for yearlings to thank
+plebes for a service such as had just been rendered. So the late
+hazers merely stepped from the room.
+
+"Odd! Mighty queer!" muttered Captain Vesey to himself, as he
+unhooked his sword and stood it in a corner over in the O.C.'s
+office. "Mr. Judson and Mr. Pratt have a pretty bad reputation for
+hazing. And yet, when I come upon them, it is to find them helping
+the poor young greenhorns through the mazes of math. I wonder if
+that was a put-up job on me."
+
+"Well you are a silly ninny, Prescott!" uttered Cadet Dodge
+disgustedly.
+
+"Meaning--what?" asked Dick coolly.
+
+"Those yearlings were just about caught redhanded."
+
+"Yes."
+
+"And you had to go to work and arrange amateur dramatics like a
+flash. So when the tac. pops in here, he finds those most estimable
+young ruffians conducting an innocent day school here!"
+
+"Well?" demanded Prescott.
+
+"Why didn't you leave it for that yearling couple to pull their own
+chestnuts out of the fire?"
+
+"Because," replied Dick quietly, "I'm not going to be the means, if
+I can help it of having any man kicked out of this corps when he's
+as anxious to be a soldier as I am!"
+
+"You're a ninny, just the same!" Bert decided.
+
+"And you're a hopeless minority here, Dodge, so come along back
+to our room," broke in Anstey. "We've some boning of our own to
+do before the call sounds for supper formation."
+
+Before the battalion of cadets marched to supper, through the
+heavy storm that night, the news of Dick Prescott's inspiration had
+traveled pretty firmly through the yearling class.
+
+It is against all West Point traditions to make a hero of a plebe.
+Not a word of congratulation came to Cadet Prescott. It wouldn't
+even save the young man from being the victim of a lot of hazing
+pranks, for these inflictions were deemed necessary to the plebe's
+training. None the less, the incident, as it became known, caused
+the impression to spread that Cadet Prescott was a good fellow and
+that he was likely to prove a credit to the grand old United States
+Military Academy.
+
+Hazing a thing of the past at West Point! The War Department and
+the authorities at the Military Academy have done all they could,
+and will continue to do all in their power to stamp out hazing.
+
+Since the Congressional investigation in the early years of the
+present century, much has been done to cut down the rigor of
+hazing at West Point. General Mills stamped out much of it with
+iron vigor. Colonel Scott dealt many hard blows to the system.
+Other officers have bent their energies to the same problems. The
+way of the hazer is perilous nowadays. In a word, of late years
+hazing has been at a very low level at the United States Military
+Academy.
+
+It is, however, a practical impossibility to stamp out hazing wholly
+in an institution where hazing has been one of the most cherished
+traditions through many generations of cadets.
+
+The hazing of today is milder; there is less of it, and, with rare
+exceptions, it is less brutal. Yet hazing, in one form or another,
+will doubtless continue at West Point through the twentieth
+century as it did through the nineteenth.
+
+The form of hazing has changed, if not the spirit. Sorely pressed by
+tac.s, and by other officers stationed at West Point, the yearlings,
+or second-year men, who do most of the hazing, have developed
+new forms of the ancient sport, and some of these forms may be
+carried on in actual sight of an Army officer without exciting his
+suspicions.
+
+Where possible, some of the old-style forms of more innocent and
+purely mischievous hazing are retained. Where "necessary" new
+hazes are employed that are bound to tax the best efforts of
+disciplinary or other officers to detect.
+
+Hazing is one of the diversions of men of mature age on the floor
+of the New York Stock Exchange. Even in the United States
+Senate there are recognized ways of hazing a new Senator who
+displays too little reverence for the traditions of that august body.
+
+Then why hope to abolish hazing utterly at West Point?
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII
+
+DICK BONES TROUBLE
+
+
+As May drew on towards June there was, among the yearlings, a
+noticeable falling off of interest in hazing. Every second-year man
+in the corps found himself much more interested in his standing in
+his studies than formerly.
+
+Several of the yearlings had reason to feel acutely concerned over
+their standing in academic work. That some of them would be "found"
+and dropped from the corps on account of their deficiencies was almost
+a foregone conclusion.
+
+So the warm nights of May found anxious young men in all the
+classes boning up to within a few minutes of the sound of taps.
+
+Least anxious of all the cadets were the scores of new plebes. They
+had been required to report in March mainly that they might
+acquire the proper West Point habits of study and recitation before
+going into the summer encampment. Hence these new plebes were
+not to be treated very searchingly in the academic work.
+
+One afternoon Greg, who had felt half ailing for twenty-four hours,
+went on sick report and walked to the hospital to consult the
+medical officer in charge.
+
+Captain Goodwin looked Greg over and ordered him to remain at
+hospital that night for observation and treatment, declaring that the
+young plebe would doubtless be all right by morning.
+
+Cadet Prescott was alone in their room, boning hard, at about nine
+that evening, when a member of the cadet guard informed him that
+he was wanted by the O.C. It was only to make an explanation of
+something trivial that had occurred that afternoon.
+
+As Dick rose, placing his desk in order, he decided to turn off the
+gas during his absence. This he did, then left the room.
+
+Crossing the area he climbed the stairs to the office of the O.C.
+Pausing at the threshold, he saluted, then was bidden to enter.
+
+Dick's report was quickly made. He was then permitted to return to
+quarters.
+
+As Cadet Prescott threw open his door the room was in darkness,
+hardly any light entering from the hallway.
+
+As Dick stepped into the room he was startled to see a dimly
+defined figure bending over his cot.
+
+In the poor light it seemed to Prescott that the intruder wore the
+attire of a "cit."
+
+Now, no civilian had any right in the room, nor in cadet barracks,
+for that matter. Prescott's first swift conclusion was that some
+scoundrel was there for wholly improper purposes.
+
+"You rascal, I've got you!" exclaimed the plebe, crossing the room
+almost in a single bound.
+
+Swift as a flash Dick laid hands on the intruder, dragged him back
+from the cot, wheeled him around and let drive a blow from the
+shoulder that caught the prowler on the nose and sent him to the
+floor.
+
+"Let up, you b.j. plebe!" came a roar of smothered rage.
+
+The body had fallen nearer the door, where the light from outside
+was stronger.
+
+Dick noted, with a thrill of dismay, that the other was attired not in
+"cit." dress, but in the cadet gray.
+
+"Hold on a minute," begged Prescott.
+
+Striking a match he turned on the gas. As the light flamed up Dick
+saw Cadet Corporal Spurlock standing before him, quivering with
+rage.
+
+"You b.j. plebe!" snarled Mr. Spurlock. "I'll take this out of you!"
+
+"Certainly," replied Dick promptly. "But, first of all, I want to
+assure you that I didn't see the uniform. I thought I had discovered
+a cit. in here, and I knew no cit. could be here on any honest
+business."
+
+"Bosh!" growled Spurlock, who was holding a handkerchief to a
+nose that was bleeding freely.
+
+Cadet Prescott drew himself up, his eyes flashing.
+
+"Pardon me, sir," returned Dick. "But you know, as well as I, sir,
+that a lie is impossible to a cadet."
+
+It was a hard report to get around that a cadet had told a lie. At
+times cadets have been known to lie, but invariably, after
+detection, they have been "cut" and forced out of the corps. So
+lying is a rare occurrence, indeed, among the cadets.
+
+"I'll make you settle for this, anyway," sputtered Cadet Corporal
+Spurlock.
+
+"Very good, sir," Dick answered resolutely.
+
+"You'll settle at once, too, mister, or as soon as I've stopped
+this flow."
+
+"Very good, sir," Dick answered again. "But if I'm not too b.j., sir,
+in talking at all, I'll call your attention to that clock. There is just
+time for you to reach your quarters before taps sound."
+
+Spurlock glanced hastily at the clock.
+
+"You're right, mister," he admitted. "Then you may wait until you
+hear from me, mister."
+
+With that Spurlock walked quickly from the room.
+
+Dick examined his cot and found that Spurlock had been engaged
+in the humorous trick of placing some two score exploded caps
+from target-rifle ammunition under his under sheet.
+
+"He wanted me to jump into bed and go down plump on all those
+caps, and then squirm there until after taps inspection," grinned
+Prescott as he swiftly removed the stuff. "It would have been a
+tough one, too--but now I guess I have a tougher proposition on my
+hands."
+
+Prescott sighed a trifle as he hastily undressed, placing his clothing
+according to the regulations on the subject.
+
+Just as he had finished taps sounded on the drum outside. Dick
+turned off his gas, bounded into bed and lay there as the door
+opened and the bull's-eye lantern of the subdivision inspector
+flashed into the room.
+
+"All right here, sir, or accounted for," Dick remarked to the
+inspector, who hastily closed the door and hurried along on his
+rounds.
+
+True to the medical officer's promise Greg was discharged from
+hospital the following morning, and permitted to report back to
+full duty.
+
+"What's this I hear, Dick, old ramrod?" Greg demanded as soon as
+the chums were back in quarters from breakfast. "The news is
+flying around fast that Mr. Spurlock is going to call you out."
+
+"I expect that he is," Dick admitted ruefully, and then told his
+chum all the details of the occurrence of the night before.
+
+"Why, that doesn't strike me as fair excuse for a fight," Greg
+muttered. "You explained and apologized."
+
+"Mr. Spurlock wouldn't accept any apology."
+
+"Just the same," argued Greg, "I don't believe you have to fight, in
+this case. You can refuse, anyway, until the matter has been
+examined into by the scrap committee of the yearling class. Now,
+in view of the fact that you offered explanation and apology, I
+don't believe that the yearling scrap committee can hold you to any
+meeting with Mr. Spurlock this time. Let me handle this affair for
+you, old ramrod."
+
+"Greg," rejoined Dick, laying an affectionate hand on his
+roommate's shoulder, "as long as I'm a new plebe I don't intend to
+try to dig out of any fight that an upper class man demands from
+me. Perhaps I could get the scrap committee to turn down Mr.
+Spurlock's desire--but I don't mean to do anything of the sort. I did
+all that I felt I could do consistently to stop the fight. Now it has
+got to come off, or else it will be because Mr. Spurlock has
+become more reasonable."
+
+"He'll eat you up, that big fellow," mused Greg bitterly. "Mr.
+Spurlock is at least fifteen pounds heavier than you. He has had a
+year more of West Point gym work than you've had and he has the
+reputation of being pretty nearly the yearling champion in the
+ring."
+
+"Of course I shall be thrashed," admitted Dick doggedly.
+"However, that probably won't do me any permanent harm.
+Besides, Greg, it's certain that I'll have to fight some yearling
+sooner or later, so I may as well take the dose now. Every plebe, I
+reckon, has to have one fight, anyway, with a yearling. It's a part of
+the system here, from all I can hear."
+
+Rap-tap sounded at the door.
+
+"Come in," called Dick, but the door opened just as he was calling.
+Mr. Kramer, of the yearling class, stepped inside.
+
+"Mr. Spurlock requests me to inform Mr. Prescott that he demands
+a fight, at as early a moment as possible."
+
+"My compliments to Mr. Spurlock, and I will meet him--here in
+barracks, to-night, I hope. Mr. Holmes has consented to act as one
+of my seconds."
+
+"Very good, sir," nodded Yearling Kramer stiffly. "Mr. Holmes,
+will you step out and discuss the matter with me now?"
+
+"Yes, sir," responded Greg. He was gone ten minutes. When he
+returned Greg announced:
+
+"There's an extra room on the top floor of the next subdivision.
+The fight will take place there at nine to-night. Mr. Anstey has
+agreed to help look after your interests."
+
+"All right, and thank you, old fellow," nodded Dick, as he turned to
+pick up a book.
+
+Greg gulped and quivered behind his chum's back.
+
+"He doesn't seem excited, but I know that I am," muttered Cadet
+Holmes. "The dear old fellow won't lose anything through
+nervousness, anyway."
+
+Dick went through his studies and recitations as usual that day. If
+the stiff ordeal of the coming night carried any twinges for him, it
+wasn't noticeable in his demeanor. Yet Dick knew that the news
+had gotten thoroughly about among the cadets. He saw many of the
+new plebes gazing at him wonderingly.
+
+When they returned from supper that night and reached their room,
+Greg was manifestly nervous--nervous enough for the pair of them,
+in fact.
+
+"Dick, do you--do you expect to win?" asked Greg at last.
+
+"Against a man like Mr. Spurlock?" smiled Cadet Prescott, and
+turned back to his study.
+
+At a little after half past eight Mr. Anstey knocked on the door and
+came in.
+
+"How's your form, Prescott, old ramrod?" the Virginian demanded.
+
+"Fine, I hope," replied Dick laconically.
+
+Greg heaved an inward sigh.
+
+"Poor old Dick," he told himself. "I hate to see him hammered
+black and blue in a bare-knuckles fight like this one!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX
+
+PLEBE PRESCOTT'S FIRST FIGHT
+
+
+"We'd better get on hand early," advised Greg. "You want to take
+plenty of time about stripping for the fight. It would be throwing
+some of your chances away, Dick, for you to strip and prepare
+hurriedly, and step into the ring all flustered."
+
+"You think I'm going to lose, don't you, Greg?" demanded Prescott
+grimly.
+
+"Oh, I hope not," protested Cadet Holmes staunchly.
+
+"But you think so, just the same," smiled Dick. "Now, Greg, do
+you remember the old Gridley High School spirit? Do you
+remember that our coaches told us to enter every battle on gridiron
+or diamond with the firm conviction that we couldn't be beaten?
+That's the old Grid. spirit that has been stealing over me the last
+few hours."
+
+"It's a mighty good spirit to take into a fight," nodded Anstey.
+
+Yet he, too, felt grave doubts that Prescott could come out of the
+approaching fight anything but a mass of pounded pulp. Mr.
+Spurlock was one of the highly accredited fighters of the yearling
+class.
+
+"Well, we'd better be moving," nodded Greg. When they reached
+the unused room on the top floor of the next subdivision of plebes,
+they found Cadet Lieutenant Edwards and Mr. Jennison, both of
+the first class, already on hand. Mr. Devine, of the yearling class,
+who was to be one of Spurlock's seconds, was also in the room.
+There were two buckets of water, with sponges, and a supply of
+rough towels.
+
+Almost immediately after Mr. Spurlock and Mr. Kramer came in.
+
+Both of the principals now began to strip. Each had chosen the
+same fighting costume, consisting of old gray flannel trousers, belt,
+rubber soled shoes and sleeveless sweater.
+
+As Spurlock stood forth, arrayed for the battle, it was seen that he
+was a man of magnificent build for one of his years. His chest
+expansion was splendid. Over his chest and between his shoulders
+formidable muscles stood well out. His arms were not fat, but
+rather bulky with muscles. He made one think of a blacksmith.
+
+Dick Prescott, being much lighter, did not make such an imposing
+appearance. Yet he did not strip to look like a weakling. His chest
+was fine, the muscles between his shoulder blades stood up well,
+while his arms, far smaller than Spurlock's, displayed the long,
+well-knit muscles of the Indian.
+
+Two first class men had volunteered to act as the officials of the
+fight, since, in a cadet fight, none of the officials can ever be of the
+class represented by either combatant.
+
+"Are you ready, gentlemen?" inquired Mr. Edwards, while Mr.
+Jennison drew out a watch that had served at many a cadet fight.
+
+"Ready, sir," replied Spurlock. "Ready, sir," added Prescott. "This
+fight," announced the referee, "is to be to a finish. The rounds will
+last two minutes each, with a minute's rest between. Queensbury
+rules will be followed as far as they can be made to apply. This
+being a bare-knuckle fight for a matter of principle, the
+combatants will not shake hands."
+
+There was an impressive pause, the referee turning to look at each
+fighter in turn.
+
+Spurlock stood at ease, his arms folded over his chest, a grin on his
+face.
+
+Plebe Prescott looked less confident. He stood with his fists
+clenched at his sides.
+
+"Time!" called Mr. Edwards.
+
+Spurlock unfolded his arms, throwing them in an attitude of
+semi-defense, as he coolly looked his opponent over.
+
+Dick Prescott, on the other hand, threw his left foot forward,
+planting it firmly though lightly. His left arm raked outward, while
+his right fist came to a guard over his heart region.
+
+"I suppose I've got to start this, as well as end it," jeered Mr.
+Spurlock. He made a sudden leap forward, throwing his offense
+low. Dick's left shot out to counter. Then Spurlock drove in, but
+Prescott got away by nimble dodging. Each man had now turned;
+the seconds jumped nimbly around, the referee following, while
+Jennison, his gaze mostly on the watch, jumped nimbly into a
+corner that he judged would not be used by the fighters.
+
+"This isn't a sprint," sneered Spurlock, as he followed nimble Plebe
+Prescott around, Dick doing some saving dodging, ducking and
+sidestepping.
+
+Nearly a dozen of Spurlock's blows Prescott succeeded in
+escaping, though the plebe was kept so busily on the defensive that
+he could not get back with anything to count.
+
+"Stand up, you jumping-jack!" hissed Spurlock.
+
+He did get in a short-arm jab on Dick's right lower ribs that made
+the plebe gasp audibly.
+
+Spurlock now started in to take advantage of this by getting the
+plebe going. Dick, however, dodged less and countered better. He
+took two nasty blows, then Mr. Jennison called.
+
+"Time!"
+
+"You're standing him off a heap better than I thought you could,"
+whispered Anstey, as he and Greg sponged the plebe fighter off
+quickly and then began to knead his muscles. While this was still
+going on the referee again summoned the fighters forward.
+
+The second round started. As before, Prescott kept mainly on the
+defensive, though always watching his chance to come back at his
+more powerful opponent. Spurlock began to press his man hard,
+when, of a sudden, Prescott got in low under the other's guard,
+came up and landed a blow on the Spurlock nose that brought the
+first blood of the fight.
+
+With an angry growl Spurlock leaped in now, to chase and wind up
+his younger opponent.
+
+But Dick did some nimble dodging, devoting his attention largely
+to defending his eyes from assault.
+
+Then, in turning, suddenly, Dick let one leg drag an instant behind
+him. Spurlock, following like lightning, aimed a blow, but it fell
+short, for he tripped over Dick's leg and fell sprawling.
+
+Referee, time-keeper and plebe principals laughed. Spurlock's
+seconds scowled.
+
+But Dick generously drew back five or six feet, standing on the
+defensive until Mr. Spurlock leaped to his feet, ready to renew the
+combat.
+
+Spurlock, however, had hurt one of his knees, in going down, just
+enough to interfere with his nimbleness of pursuit during the rest
+of the round. Time-keep Jennison soon ended that round.
+
+"Mister," growled Yearling Kramer, turning around while Dick sat
+between his seconds being sponged and kneaded, "don't be so
+much of a coward! Don't run away and delay the finish. Stand up
+as if you had some manhood!"
+
+"Thank you, sir," replied Dick coldly. "I'm managing my end of
+this fight."
+
+"You b.j. little poltroon," snarled Kramer. "I'll call you out myself
+if you have the nerve to talk back!" hissed Kramer.
+
+"Is licking cowards your specialty?" demanded Prescott coolly.
+
+But that settled it, making a coming fight with Kramer an absolute
+necessity, now.
+
+"Mr. Kramer," interrupted Mr. Edwards sternly, "this has gone far
+enough. You must stop hectoring that plebe, sir. He has all he can
+attend to as it is."
+
+Kramer stopped, with a snap of the jaws. He didn't want to. But a
+hint, on a matter of etiquette, or the code, from the first class man,
+was as valid as a command. And Mr. Edwards had spoken in a
+tone that was authoritative enough.
+
+"You run all you want," whispered Greg indignantly. "You have a
+right to. This room is smaller than a Queensbury ring."
+
+"I shan't stop my footwork unless the referee orders it," replied
+Prescott, in an under-tone.
+
+"You're doing just right," nodded Anstey. "If you weren't Mr. Edwards
+would stop it. He's running this fight on the fair-and-square. If I
+have a fight I hope it will be my luck to have Mr. Edwards running the
+job."
+
+"How do you feel?" asked Anstey, in an undertone.
+
+"All right," returned Dick. "But I had to trust to footwork to save
+myself. Mr. Spurlock got nearly all my wind in that other round."
+
+"Is your wind in again?" asked Greg anxiously.
+
+"Yes; I think I feel as fine as my man does," replied Dick, stepping
+up from the care of his handlers to await the command.
+
+"Isn't Mr. Kramer the brute?" whispered Anstey indignantly.
+
+"I'm not going to think of him, now," answered Plebe Prescott over
+his shoulder. "I have all I can attend to at present."
+
+"I'll get him now, Kramer," muttered Spurlock, as he rose. "Watch
+me reduce that b.j. plebe to powder! I hope they have a spare cot
+for him over at hospital."
+
+Again the referee set them at it.
+
+Mr. Spurlock encountered a mild surprise, for now Dick seemed
+less inclined to trust to his nimble feet. He put up a stand-up front,
+though several of Spurlock's sledge-hammer blows passed over
+Dick's falling head.
+
+Then the yearling began to fight lower.
+
+The plebe put up a good series of counters, though he took another
+bit of punishment in the short ribs, and began to back away.
+
+Across the room, Mr. Spurlock began driving his victim, slowly
+but systematically.
+
+Dick retreated, putting up the best guard he could, dodging when
+he had to.
+
+But the yearling, full of the grim spirit of the thing, pursued
+without undue haste, driving the plebe, a foot at a time, clean
+across the room toward the opposite wall.
+
+At last Spurlock had his victim all but leaning against the wall,
+sorely pressed. Then, with a sudden tensing of his muscles, the
+yearling let his left drive to "paste" the plebe's head against the
+hard wall.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X
+
+THE "BEAST" WHO SCORED
+
+
+SMASH!
+
+But the plebe wasn't there. Dick Prescott had counted on this, and
+had wriggled out by a duck and a plunge forward that carried him
+beyond momentary risk of Mr. Spurlock's following right.
+
+The yearling's left fist landed with such force as to cause a half
+square yard of plaster to fall with a thud.
+
+With a yell of disgust Spurlock wheeled about, but the plebe was
+waiting for him.
+
+At just the right instant, Dick let fly with all his might with his
+own left.
+
+It caught the yearling over the right eye, closing it.
+
+Just three or four feet back danced Prescott, then came forward
+again. A blow set the yearling's nose to bleeding afresh.
+
+Then bang! went the other eye closed. The upper class men gasped
+with astonishment, for Spurlock was now getting into bad shape.
+
+He was all but dazed, in fact; and had twenty-five seconds yet to
+go in the round.
+
+Then, as much in mercy as for anything else, Dick Prescott
+dropped his left against the yearling's jawbone.
+
+There was a crash as the dazed man went to the floor.
+
+Instantly Mr. Jennison's voice rose, counting:
+
+"One, two, three, four--"
+
+"Take the full count, Spurdy," advised Kramer, bending forward
+over his principal.
+
+"--eight, nine, ten!" gasped out the timekeeper.
+
+Mr. Spurlock had shown no sign of rising. In fact, he was still
+unconscious.
+
+"I award the fight to Mr. Prescott," called the cool, exact tones of
+Mr. Edward.
+
+Greg could have let out a whoop and danced a war-dance, but in
+the presence of upper class men this plebe had to restrain himself.
+Anstey's eyes flashed, but otherwise the Virginian bore himself
+modestly.
+
+"Carry Mr. Spurlock down to the door. Then summon
+stretcher-bearers from the hospital," directed Mr. Edwards.
+
+It was Yearling Devine who sprang to obey this direction.
+
+Now Dick spoke, ever so quietly.
+
+"Mr. Kramer, I understood that you did me the honor to call me
+out."
+
+"Eh?" muttered that other yearling. "Oh, yes; so I did. Whenever
+you're ready, mister!"
+
+"If Mr. Edwards and Mr. Jennison are willing," returned the plebe
+coolly, "I'm ready as soon as Mr. Spurlock has been carried away."
+
+"Oho, mister! B.j. to the end, are you?"
+
+"No, sir; only anxious to atone for my b.j.-ety," replied Cadet
+Prescott, with a little flash of his eyes.
+
+Anstey had gone below with Devine, to render any help that could
+be given.
+
+"This is rather unusual, mister," suggested Mr. Edwards, glancing
+at his watch. "However, if you really feel fit, and if it suits Mr.
+Kramer--"
+
+"Oh, anything will suit me," returned the yearling. Truth to tell,
+Kramer wasn't by any means sure that he could whip this crafty
+plebe. But the issue had been thrown fairly in his teeth. Moreover,
+the honor of the yearling class was now at stake, and Kramer
+wasn't the man to go back on his class.
+
+"Listen, gentlemen," broke in Mr. Edwards. "This affair started a
+little ahead of the time set. It is now nine-fifteen. In ten minutes or
+less, we can have Mr. Spurlock on his way to cadet hospital.
+Then, if you two mix it up spicily, we can have the affair over by
+nine-forty. In any case I shall have to call the fight by that time,
+and decide it a draw, if necessary. What say you?"
+
+"Quite satisfactory, sir," nodded Kramer.
+
+"Satisfactory, sir," added Prescott, waiting, as a plebe should, until
+the yearling had spoken.
+
+Devine was back almost at once. The seconds carried the still
+unconscious Mr. Spurlock below to the waiting stretcher.
+Immediately after Kramer dropped in on a classmate, who gladly
+came upstairs to aid Mr. Devine in seconding Mr. Kramer.
+
+Not an unnecessary moment did Mr. Kramer lose with his
+stripping. He was ready in almost record time, presenting, bared, a
+man of about Mr. Spurlock's proportions, weight and general
+muscular fitness.
+
+Mr. Edwards quickly recited the conditions, then called for the
+start of the affair.
+
+Figuring that Prescott must now be a good deal sore and at least a
+bit winded, Mr. Kramer started in at a lively gait, trying to bear the
+plebe down with swift, overpowering rushes and showers of blows.
+
+Some of these landed on the plebe's sturdy body, the whacks
+resounding. But the blows merely stirred Prescott's fighting blood
+within him. Standing up fairly, with little footwork, but displaying
+much more speed, Dick Prescott drove in blow after blow in such
+bewildering succession as to all but daze the yearling.
+
+Bang! Kramer's right eye was half closed just as Cadet Jennison
+called the end of the first round.
+
+"Great Scott, but that little fellow is a canned hurricane!" muttered
+Devine, as he wrung out cloths in cold water and applied then to
+Kramer's swelling eye. "Old man, you want to swing one blow
+down on the top of his head, and crush him, if you want to save
+your personal appearance."
+
+"Won't I?" grunted Kramer. "Just watch me. I won't murder the
+plebe, but I've stood all the fooling I'm going to."
+
+As the combatants rushed at each other again Kramer struck out
+two or three times; then clinched to save himself.
+
+"Break away, there!" admonished Edwards sternly. "Get off!"
+
+Again in that round Kramer clinched, despite the referee's sternest
+orders.
+
+"That's no way to meet a plebe, Mr. Kramer," cried Edwards
+disgustedly.
+
+After the second get-away Dick fairly danced around his man. A
+blow on the nose brought Kramer's blood. Then his left eye went
+all but shut. At that the yearling spun dizzily. Dick drove a light
+blow in behind his man's ear. Down went Spurlock's "avenger"
+sprawling on the floor.
+
+Mr. Jennison began to count while Kramer lay on the floor, stirring
+uneasily, yet not seeming to comprehend his seconds' warnings.
+
+"--eight, nine, ten!" finished Mr. Jennison, then put the watch in his
+pocket.
+
+"The fight is awarded to Mr. Prescott, and it isn't nine thirty yet,"
+announced Mr. Edwards.
+
+Dick's jubilant seconds sponged him, rubbed him down, kneaded
+his muscles and joyously assisted him in dressing.
+
+Kramer, coming to presently, but with a face that Anstey said
+"made him think of the Dismal Swamp," was assisted downstairs
+by his seconds, and taken to the cadet hospital.
+
+With the exception of the two yearlings whom Cadet Prescott had
+thrashed to a finish, all who had taken any part in the fights were
+in their beds, and lights out, when the subdivision inspectors
+flashed their bull's-eye lanterns into the room a moment after taps
+had sounded.
+
+For the honor of the class another yearling, Garston, forced a
+dispute within a few days, and Prescott had his third fight on his
+hands. He won it, though, about as easily as he had the other two.
+
+Three such victories left this plebe free from further fight
+annoyance. Also, according to a tacitly understood rule, none of
+these three yearlings could engage in hazing Mr. Prescott after
+that.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI
+
+HOW CADET DODGE HELD POST NUMBER THREE
+
+
+In the early days of the month of June, came all the glories of
+Commencement.
+
+The first class graduated, and went forth to receive their
+commissions in the Regular Army.
+
+The second class became the new first class, and head and arbiters
+of all personal affairs in the battalion of cadets.
+
+The yearlings now became second class men, and departed on
+their summer furlough, to last until the latter part of August.
+
+The old plebes moved up a peg, also, and became the new
+yearlings, vested with all the power of hazing and otherwise
+oppressing and training the plebes.
+
+But for the new plebes--what? They were plebes just as much as
+ever, and would be until the following June.
+
+The day after the graduating class had departed, and the late
+yearlings had followed in their trail, as the furloughed new second
+class, what was left of the battalion marched forth out of barracks
+into camp.
+
+Here under the khaki-colored tents what was left of the battalion
+settled down to the life of the soldier in the field.
+
+An untrained eye might not have noticed much in the arrangement
+of the camp. However, the tents of the main camp were arranged
+along six company streets. There was also the larger tent of the
+tactical officer in charge, the guard-tent, and some other tents used
+in the administration of camp-life.
+
+Now, every text-book was laid aside for the summer. Instruction
+during camp period was to be in the practical duties that belong to
+the soldier's life.
+
+The new first class mourned the loss of a few members who had
+been "found"--that is, who had failed in their studies just before
+Commencement. More than a score had been dropped from the
+new yearling class. Only two of the new plebes had been dropped,
+they having been found wholly and absolutely unfit to keep the
+brain-fagging pace of academic work at West Point.
+
+"I never minded study back home," muttered Greg, as he and Dick
+toiled setting their few belongings to rights under canvas. "But, the
+way the study-gait is kept up here at West Point, I certainly say
+'hurrah' with all my heart at the thought that books are closed for
+all summer."
+
+"We'll be back at the grind in September again," laughed Dick.
+"And I'm assured that we haven't struck the real study-gait yet; that
+these new three months from March on are only to break us in a
+bit, so that we won't mind the real thing so much when we meet it
+in September."
+
+"Then you give me cause for gloomy thought," shuddered Greg.
+
+"Make way for a future general," grinned Anstey, as, with both
+arms full of belongings he forced his way into the tent. The cadets
+were housed three to a tent, and Anstey, to the great delight of
+Dick and Greg, had been assigned to bunk with them. Anstey, too,
+was delighted, for the young Virginian was a gentleman of the
+actual type, who had been growing steadily more weary of the
+sham "gentleman" that Bert Dodge had so far illustrated.
+
+"I'm tent orderly this week," announced Dick, with a grin. "I
+received that very important news five minutes ago. I'm
+responsible for the order and condition of the tent for this week, so
+you fellows will have to step around to keep the tent in style to suit
+me."
+
+"Oh, if you're tent orderly," laughed Anstey, "then we don't have to
+take the word from you."
+
+"You don't?" demanded Prescott.
+
+"No, indeed. If you're the orderly, then you're merely a striker."
+
+A "striker," in the Army, is an enlisted man who is paid by an
+officer for doing servant's work in spare time. Hence, a striker is,
+in general, anyone engaged in menial service.
+
+"Come on, Holmesy," urged Anstey, rising. "We'll go out for a
+stroll. Striker, see to it that you have a flawless tent interior when
+we return."
+
+In his glee Anstey seized Greg by one arm and started to rush him
+out of the tent.
+
+"Oh, all right; go along," gibed Dick. "See who'll get the lash
+though, when I turn in my report."
+
+"Would you skin us?" demanded Anstey, halting in the doorway of
+the tent and gazing back with a look of mock horror.
+
+To "skin" a brother cadet is to report him for some dereliction in
+duty, thereby bringing down discipline upon the offender.
+
+"Skin you?" repeated Dick. "Yes, sir! If you leave me to bring
+order out of all this military chaos I'll hand you in to the O.C. in a
+way that will take every square inch of cuticle from your body."
+ 
+"Traitor!" hissed Anstey tragically.
+
+"Mister, it's a whole year yet before plebes can sing, laugh, or be
+happy," came the muttered warning, as one of the newly-made
+yearlings passed by the tent.
+
+Anstey became silent at once. He had been at West Point long
+enough to know his place as a plebe.
+
+"Say," whispered Anstey presently, his eyes brimming over with
+glee, "have you seen poor old Dodge to-day?"
+
+"Not particularly," responded Prescott.
+
+"Well, he's the maddest rookie (recruit) you ever saw! Having been
+old Dodge's roommate up to reveille this morning, I am in a
+position to state that he took advantage of the general laxity last
+night, and slipped out of barracks after taps last night. He and
+some other embryo cadets got a rowboat, through connivance with
+a soldier in the engineer's detachment. They rowed across the
+river, to Garrison, and had some kind of high old racket. It must
+have been high," added Anstey pensively, "for I happened to turn
+over in bed this morning, and I saw old Dodge slipping back into
+the room about an hour before reveille."
+
+"Well, what's he mad about, now?" demanded Dick.
+
+"Why, he has been drawn for the new guard! He's on guard for
+to-day and to-night!" chuckled Anstey gleefully. "Already dead for
+sleep, his official duties will keep him without much more sleep
+for twenty-four hours, or until the new guard goes on to-morrow.
+Even then he'll have some other things to take up some of his
+time."
+
+By-and-by the tent was so much and well to rights that, when
+Cadet Corporal Brodie, of the new yearling class, looked in, he
+could find no fault with its appearance.
+
+Dick sat down on his box. Greg did the same. Plebes are not
+allowed campstools in the summer encampment--probably on the
+theory that so much luxury would be certain to demoralize them.
+
+"I'm going out for a wee bit stroll," drawled Anstey, after taking a
+look in the tiny soldier's mirror to see that his appearance was in
+apple-pie order.
+
+"Don't make the mistake of forgetting, and calling on one of the
+new yearlings," cautioned Dick dryly.
+
+"There's no trace of insanity in our family history," responded
+Anstey gravely, as he stepped outside.
+
+Dick and Greg found they had much to talk about in comparing
+notes of what each had learned about the nature of duties in the
+summer camp. They were still thus engaged when Anstey bounded
+back into the tent. The young Virginian looked as though he were
+having a tremendously hard time to keep himself from exploding.
+
+"Oh, this is rich!" he chuckled.
+
+"What is?" inquired Dick, looking up in some mystification.
+
+"What do you suppose Dodge has gone and done, now?"
+
+"Said a kind word about me?" smiled Prescott.
+
+"I didn't say anything about miracles," drawled the Virginian. "No;
+poor old Dodge has drawn number three post for guard duty on the
+late tour to-night!"
+
+"Well, isn't three a good enough number?" asked Greg innocently.
+
+"A good post, you meandering old puddin'-head!" retorted Anstey.
+"Good? The post that goes by old Fort Clinton?"
+
+"Well, it is a bit lonely, off there in the woods," admitted Cadet
+Prescott.
+
+"Lonely?" bubbled over Anstey. "And you've seen the ditch that
+runs along by that post?"
+
+"Naturally," nodded Dick. "You will probably remember that I got
+past the eye-sight tests of the rainmakers" (doctors).
+
+"Now, I've just been talking with a young cit. fellow, who's visiting
+one of the officers on post," continued Anstey. "He tells me that,
+every year, some of the yearlings slyly waylay a plebe whenever
+they can catch him pacing on number three post late at night."
+
+"What do they do to him?" questioned Prescott.
+
+"Oh, they don't do a thing to him, I reckon," drawled the Virginian.
+"At least, nothing that a jovial fellow can object to. They may roll
+him down in the ditch, take his gun away from him, and hide it, or
+some little thing like that."
+
+"Then, see here," proposed Dick solemnly, "Dodge may not be the
+most popular fellow in the corps, but he's one of us, anyway. He
+belongs to our class. Anything that is done against him is, in a
+measure, done to the whole class. Anstey, we ought to get Dodge
+aside and warn him."
+
+"Warn him?" repeated Anstey aghast. "Warn him--and spoil all the
+fun!"
+
+"I know I'd want to be warned, if it were likely to happen to me
+to-night," insisted Dick soberly.
+
+"Oh--well, I don't know but that you're right," assented Anstey
+slowly. "Yes; I'm certain you are."
+
+"Hullo, you raw-looking rookies," hailed Dodge, halting and
+looking in through the doorway.
+
+"Come in here a minute, Dodge," urged Anstey.
+
+For an instant Dodge looked suspicious. Then he muttered:
+
+"As you're not yearlings, I accept the invitation."
+
+Very spick and span Dodge looked as he entered the tent. As a
+member of the guard he wore a pair of immaculate white duck
+trousers, which held the "spooniest" crease imaginable. His gray
+coat and white gloves made him look more the dandy than usual.
+
+"We've something to tell you, Dodge," Anstey continued almost in
+a whisper, as the four plebes stood in a close bunch. "At least, old
+ramrod says we ought to tell you."
+
+Then, lowering his voice still more, Anstey gave an outline of what
+the new yearlings were supposed to try to do to the lonely plebe on
+post number three at the hour when ghosts walk.
+
+"Humph!" rejoined Dodge quickly. "Let the yearlings try that sort
+of trick, if they dare. Have those fellows no idea of the sacred
+position of trust held by a United States sentinel? For I, on sentry
+duty, represent the sovereignty of the United States just as much as
+does any soldier patrolling a lonely post in the face of the enemy in
+war time!"
+
+"All very well," grinned Dick "But how are you going to prove it, if
+the yearlings catch you napping tonight?"
+
+"They won't," retorted Dodge pompously. "They shan't. And if any
+fellow, I don't care who he is, tries to rush my post to-night he'll
+feel the steel of one of Uncle Sam's bayonets prodding him in the
+tenderest part of his worthless carcass!"
+
+"Look out, Dodge!" cautioned Greg softly. "Don't let any of the
+yearlings hear you canning a brag like that, or they'll get you if
+they have to turn out the whole class after taps to do the job."
+
+"Let 'em try it!" insisted Dodge. "And you fellows are at liberty to
+tell anyone that I said it."
+
+With that the speaker turned and strolled out of the tent, looking
+rather miffed.
+
+"The pompous old idiot!" muttered Anstey, in a tone of pained
+disgust. "Oh, why did ever fond parents let a mentally irresponsible
+chap like that come to a place like West Point for anyway?"
+
+"Our skirts are clear, anyway," remarked Dick Prescott
+consolingly. "We told him all we knew. If he doesn't act upon it,
+it's his rifle, not ours, that gets fouled."
+
+Dodge not only believed the hoax to be impossible, with him on
+number three, but he was incautious enough to talk about it freely
+among the plebes during the day.
+
+As was almost certain to happen, one of the yearlings heard Dodge
+sounding his trumpet of brag. That yearling, on the other side of a
+tent wall, grinned, and presently took counsel with other yearlings.
+
+It was almost at the stroke of taps that night when Bert Dodge
+marched from guard tent with the relief under Cadet Corporal
+Hasbrouck.
+
+As the other sentry on number three fell in, and Dodge stepped out
+to take up his vigil, Corporal Hasbrouck gave added instructions to
+the new and untried sentry.
+
+"Sometimes, Mr. Dodge, this post has been known to be about as
+dangerous as one in war time."
+
+"Yes, sir, answered Dodge respectfully, as he was bound to. Then
+as the cadet corporal marched on with the relief, Dodge glanced
+after the vanishing squad to mutter to himself:
+
+"What a lot of nonsense. I'd like to see anyone rush me!"
+
+"I wonder what Dodge will do on number three to-night," yawned
+Anstey, just before the three tentmates fell asleep.
+
+"Oh, I wonder what it will be," grinned Greg.
+
+Then the three went sound asleep.
+
+Dick turned later and awoke just in time to hear the voice of a
+sentry calling:
+
+"Half past eleven! Post number one, and all's we-ell!"
+
+Then, a little further away, another voice took up the refrain:
+
+"Post num-ber two, and all's we-ell!"
+
+"Jupiter!" gasped sleepy Prescott, becoming instantly wide awake.
+"Post number three doesn't answer. They've gone and got old
+Dodge."
+
+There was a rapid sound of feet in the company street as Corporal
+Hasbrouck and the guard rushed along at double quick.
+
+"Hey, you--wake up!" commanded Dick, vigorously prodding the
+plebe sleepers on either side of him.
+
+"All present, sir!" sleepily mumbled Anstey.
+
+"What's up?" demanded Greg, sitting up.
+
+"The very deuce!" retorted Dick. "There! Listen to that!"
+
+"Bang!" sounded a rifle report. Then Corporal Hasbrouck's
+bellowing voice could be heard:
+
+"Officer of the day, post number three!" Some one could be heard
+running down the street. A few moments passed, during which
+Dick, Greg and Anstey sat up on their mattresses listening eagerly.
+
+Then came the officer of the day running back.
+
+There was another brief pause, or just long enough for the officer
+of the day to make a report to the O.C. and to receive orders.
+
+Tr-r-rat-tat-tat-tat! The drummers at guard tent were running out
+the crisp summons of assembly.
+
+"Get up! Tumble out lively for general roll call!" muttered Dick,
+springing to his feet.
+
+"What in the mischief can they have done to old Dodge?"
+wondered Greg as he hurriedly pulled on his shoes.
+
+"You men will turn out instantly," ordered a cadet corporal,
+thrusting his head in at the tent doorway. "Elaborate dressing isn't
+necessary."
+
+Dick bolted out, followed by Anstey, Greg bringing up the rear.
+
+Cadets by scores and hundreds were falling in by companies, while
+the company commanders stood by watchful and alert.
+
+Only the members of the guard were excused from this assembly.
+
+Almost instantly orders rang out crisply, and the ranks closed.
+Then the cadet adjutant, the roll in his hands, began to call the
+names by companies, holding a pencil in readiness to check down
+any cadet found absent.
+
+Back of the adjutant stood the cadet officer of the day and Captain
+Vesey, of the Army, who was the tac. doing duty as O.C.
+
+The calling of the roll, while the cadets stood in ranks, wondering,
+brought a surprise to Captain Vesey. Every cadet supposed to be in
+camp was present or satisfactorily accounted for.
+
+"When dismissed," rang the cadet adjutant's voice, "men not on
+duty will return to their tents and finish the night's rest. Dismiss by
+companies."
+
+As the drowsy cadets turned back to their company streets there
+was a buzz of eager, under-toned conversation. Some of the men
+of the guard threw in enough information so that the main part of
+the story became known and flew like fire through the camp.
+
+When post number three failed to answer at half past eleven
+Corporal Hasbrouck and a squad of the guard went to that post in
+double-quick time.
+
+Dodge was found to be absent from his post, but his rifle, with
+bayonet fixed, was securely tied to a near-by bush in the position
+of "port arms."
+
+Dodge simply was not to be found. At one point signs of a scuffle
+had been found, but the trail, after starting down the slope, soon
+disappeared.
+
+Cadet Dodge could not be found. No one, unless some unidentified
+hazers, knew where that young sentry was.
+
+Assembly had been sounded and all cadets called out for roll call
+in order that it might be learned what cadets, if any, were absent
+from camp without authority. But roll each had failed to show any
+absentees.
+
+Captain Vesey was furious. So was Lieutenant-Colonel Strong, the
+commandant of cadets, who had just been summoned, and who
+was now at the tac. tent questioning Hasbrouck and others.
+
+Through the night no trace was found of Mr. Dodge.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII
+
+PRESCOTT GETS NUMBER THREE
+
+
+When the cadet battalion marched off to mess the following morning the
+mystery of Cadet Dodge's whereabouts was as big a mystery as ever.
+
+At the tent of the O.C., however, things were seething. As soon as
+the battalion returned to camp cadets were sent for in rapid
+succession.
+
+However, the trail remained as blind as ever. The various
+detachments were ordered out for drill or practical instruction.
+
+Our three young cadets were marched nearly two miles for
+instruction in target practice. At the outset this work was with the
+gallery rifle at short ranges.
+
+At the close of practice the squad was marched back over the dusty
+roads.
+
+"Dodge has been found," was the smiling word passed around as
+this detachment of plebes was dismissed inside camp limits.
+
+"Where? How? When?"
+
+The amazing story was told with a good deal of quiet laughter.
+
+At about half past eight this morning one of the workmen
+employed in a lumber yard at Garrison, across the river, walking in
+behind a pile of lumber close to the river, was amazed to find a
+pillow slip lying on the ground. What was much more astonishing
+was the fact that a waist and a pair of legs protruded from the
+pillowcase, and the feet were bound.
+
+The workman, a dull-witted fellow, thought he had stumbled upon
+a case of murder, and rushed back to the office. The manager
+thereupon hurried to the spot and the mystery was quickly solved.
+
+The pillowcase being removed, they saw Mr. Dodge, bound and
+gagged.
+
+He was promptly set free and questioned. But he refused any
+information to the manager of the lumber yard, beyond stating that
+he had been the victim of an outrage.
+
+On the next trip of the ferry across the river Mr. Dodge returned,
+the lumber yard manager accompanying him. Mr. Dodge had
+reported, with a very crestfallen air, at the guard tent, and from
+there had been hurried on to Captain Vesey's tent. Now the story
+came out.
+
+Mr. Dodge had just given the eleven o'clock hail, the night before,
+when he was suddenly seized from behind and thrown flat. A
+pillowcase was slipped over his head while he was held by so
+many that struggling was out of the question. By the time the
+pillowcase had been pulled down over his head Mr. Dodge also
+discovered that he had been swiftly but most effectively bound.
+
+For the rest he knew only that he had been carried down the slope,
+unable to give any alarm, and that he had been lifted into a boat,
+taken over the river and dumped in the lumber yard. Here he had
+spent the rest of the night and the early morning until found. He
+had tried, repeatedly, to free himself, but had failed.
+
+This was all the material on which Captain Vesey, and his superior,
+Lieutenant-Colonel Strong, had upon which to work, save for Dodge's
+admission that he had been warned, the day before, by Cadets Prescott,
+Holmes and Anstey. These three were accordingly summoned to the
+O.C.'s tent and asked to explain.
+
+"Mr. Prescott," asked Captain Vesey, "why did you warn Mr.
+Dodge? What information had you that such an outrage on a
+sentry was being planned?"
+
+"I knew only what Mr. Anstey had told me, sir," replied Dick at
+once.
+
+"Mr. Anstey," demanded Captain Vesey, turning to the Virginian,
+"what information did you have, and how did you obtain it?"
+
+Back of the O.C. sat the K.C. (commandant of cadets), his dark
+eyes fixed upon the witnesses.
+
+"All the information I had, sir, was what a young cit. with whom I
+talked yesterday morning told me about pranks that had been
+played in past years upon plebes who had the late tour of post
+number three."
+
+"Your statement is that you had a conversation with a citizen, and
+that he told you of pranks that had been played in former years?"
+
+"Yes, sir; that was the intent of my statement."
+
+"The citizen with whom you talked did not give you any hint that a
+trick might be played last night?"
+
+"No, sir; only in the general way that the citizen's stories made me
+half suspect that something might be tried last night."
+
+"Because Mr. Dodge was a plebe?"
+
+"Yes, sir.
+
+"And also because the plebe was Mr. Dodge?" Anstey hesitated an
+instant, then shot out promptly.
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"Why did you think that Mr. Dodge was extremely likely to be
+singled out?"
+
+Cadet Anstey flushed and again hesitated.
+
+"You are not required to say anything distinctly to the discredit or
+disadvantage of Mr. Dodge, but you are required, Mr. Anstey, to
+give any information that will aid the authorities in running down
+this outrage and its perpetrators. Again, sir, why did you imagine
+that Mr. Dodge would be singled out?"
+
+"I knew, sir, that a good many upper class men regarded Mr.
+Dodge as being decidedly b.j.," the Virginian admitted reluctantly.
+
+"Then you attribute this affair to Mr. Dodge's unpopularity with
+some of the upper class men?"
+
+"I wouldn't say, sir, that Mr. Dodge is unpopular, but I think, sir,
+that some of the upper class men feel that Mr. Dodge needs taking
+in hand."
+
+"For hazing?"
+
+"For--er--well, sir--for general training."
+
+"That is hazing--nothing more nor less," broke in the K.C. coldly.
+"And we shall leave no stone unturned to stop this hazing and to
+punish all perpetrators of hazing."
+
+"Did Mr. Dodge accept your warning?" continued Captain Vesey.
+
+"He did not, sir."
+
+"Mr. Anstey, on your word as a cadet and a gentleman, you have
+told me all you know of the affair?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"Mr. Prescott, on your word as a cadet and a gentleman, have you
+told me all you know?"
+
+"Yes, sir," Dick replied. "That is, sir, all except what is common
+knowledge to all, yourself included, sir."
+
+"Mr. Holmes, have you any knowledge bearing on this subject, in
+addition to what has been stated by these other cadets?"
+
+"None, sir."
+
+"That is all for the present," nodded Captain Vesey. "You may go."
+
+As soon as the cadets were out of hearing the "tac." turned to the
+K.C.
+
+"The motive back of this outrage on a sentry is all quite clear to
+me, Colonel," spoke the subordinate officer. "Dodge is an
+unpopular and b.j.-ish fellow. He has undoubtedly been making
+his brags that he'd bag any yearlings who tried to interfere with
+him on post. Some of the yearlings must have taken up the
+challenge."
+
+"Yet at roll call last night, which was held at once, every cadet
+responded or was properly accounted for," broke in the K.C.
+savagely.
+
+"Yes, Colonel; but the young men had nearly half an hour in which
+to work."
+
+"They couldn't have rowed both ways across the Hudson and have
+gotten back into camp in time for that swift roll call," retorted
+Colonel Strong.
+
+"Even that part of the affair doesn't seem very puzzling to me, sir,"
+replied Captain Vesey. "Assuming that yearlings bagged Mr.
+Dodge, as I think they did, they may have had citizen friends at
+hand to carry out the rest of the affair with a boat. They may even
+have arranged with soldiers belonging to one of the Army
+detachments here."
+
+"The only matter of importance now, Captain Vesey, is to find out
+just which cadets, if cadets were engaged in the outrage, seized
+Mr. Dodge on his post."
+
+"In ferreting them out, Colonel, I will follow to the last extremity
+any instructions you may give me, sir," promised Captain Vesey.
+
+The K.C. tugged hard at his moustache, then scowled harder than
+before.
+
+"What do you think the chances are, Vesey, of our finding the
+perpetrators?"
+
+"Frankly, Colonel, I don't think we have a chance in a million,
+unless some yearling concerned in the matter voluntarily
+confesses."
+
+"A yearling voluntarily confess!" snorted the K.C. rising. "Bah!"
+
+Captain Vesey smiled after his superior officer had stalked out of
+the tent. It is just barely possible that the younger officer,
+remembering some prank of his own yearling days, wasn't
+extraordinarily anxious to detect yearlings in an offense that would
+result in depriving the Army of the further services of some very
+bright and resourceful young men.
+
+Hot, dusty, perspiring, first class men, yearlings and plebes came
+back to camp in detachments from various tours of drum and
+instruction. The only cadets who looked at all fresh were the
+members of the guard, who were excused from the day's drills. Yet
+for these returning ones, late in the afternoon of a hot day, there
+was no immediate rest. Some of the cadets came back in service
+clothes, others in khaki, still others in field costume of campaign
+hat, flannel shirt, gray trousers and leggins. Immediately the young
+men in all these varieties of uniform disappeared within their tents.
+There was a subdued sound of great bustle. Then, almost in the
+same instant, it seemed, cadets stepped from the various tents into
+the open. Each was immaculate, very nearly glorious in spotless,
+faultlessly pressed white duck trousers, topped by the gray
+full-dress coat and hat. Each cadet carried his rifle now, except for
+the cadet officers, who wore their swords.
+
+With almost dizzying speed, after the return and the dressing, the
+assembly was sounded. The company to which Dick and his
+mates belonged was then, at the command, formed and inspected,
+marched across the plain, over to the parade ground, where
+hundreds of girls, in bright-hued dresses, and other visitors to West
+Point awaited their coming.
+
+With the cadet adjutant and cadet sergeant-major in place as
+guides, the company came to its place in battalion formation.
+Other companies marched in, and parade rest was ordered. Now, at
+the command, a few movements in the manual of arms were
+executed, the battalion presenting a beautiful line of gray, white
+and flashing steel. Next the band, playing gayly, marched from left
+of line, before the battalion, halting in place beyond the right of
+line. Fifes and drums sounded the retreat. The sunset gun boomed
+over the hollow beyond; down came the Stars and Stripes on one
+more day of national life, while the band played "The Star
+Spangled Banner" and all the men and boys among the spectators,
+including several on-looking Army officers, uncovered their heads,
+standing rigidly at attention. It was an awe-inspiring moment to
+one who could feel the thrill of patriotism. This whole ceremony
+of dress parade had about it the impressive solemnity of religious
+worship.
+
+There were yet some more formalities. Then the young men were
+marched back. A few minutes after the sunset gun the men were
+once more in their own company streets, and, for all cadets except
+those of the guard, the work day was over. In the evening there
+was to be a cadet hop at Cullom Hall, at which many of the
+bright-faced girls who had watched dress parade would be present.
+The evening after there would be a band concert in camp. So the
+nights of the cadet summer were passed.
+
+But the hops were not for the plebes. They could dance only in the
+day time, under the watchful eyes of the dancing instructor, for
+every plebe must take dancing lessons in summer until he has been
+pronounced qualified. To a cadet hop, though there is no official
+rule against it, no plebe ever presumes to go. Nor may he, for that
+matter, mingle in the social life with the young lady visitors at the
+post. He may try it, of course, but no well-informed girl will allow
+a plebe to take the chances. If a plebe is caught actually paying
+attention to any young woman the upper class men take care of
+him in their own effective way. A plebe, like any other cadet, must
+show courtesy to any woman who addresses him; beyond that the
+young man must not go during his plebedom. "Flirtation Week" is
+close by, but no plebe ever dares to stroll there.
+
+This being the night of the hop, the upper class men were busy
+with their toilets as soon as they returned from supper; or as many
+of them were as had arranged to "drag a femme" to the hop. This is
+cadet parlance for escorting a young lady to the dance. However,
+some upper class men notoriously avoid attending hops.
+
+"It's a fine thing, isn't it," growled Greg that evening, "to take a
+lot of dancing lessons every week, and then, when the night comes
+around, to stroll through the company streets and listen to the
+orchestra in the distance."
+
+"I'm not complaining," Dick replied.
+
+"Yet you used to be fond of dancing."
+
+"I am now."
+
+"Then why don't you yearn to go to a hop?"
+
+"I do. But see here, Greg. The fellow makes the best soldier, in the
+end, I'll wager, who learns to keep his greatest desires in check. All
+the restrictions thrown around the plebe by custom are intended to
+make him the better man, soldier and officer by teaching him to
+wait until his time comes."
+
+"I congratulate you, mister," spoke a low but hearty voice from the
+doorway of a tent the two plebes were passing. "You're coming on,
+mister. Grin and bear it. You'll be happy one of these days!"
+
+Dick and Greg glanced backward over their shoulders to see that
+the speaker was Mr. Reynolds, member of the new first class and a
+cadet captain. Reynolds usually attended the hops. But for to-night
+he had only a telegram in the breast of his coat in the place of the
+cherished "femme" whom he had hoped to "drag." As he stood in
+his doorway, looking up at the inscrutable stars, Cadet Captain
+Reynolds was taking his own lesson in patient waiting.
+
+"Thank you, sir," Dick replied in a low tone, then faced front again.
+
+That night another plebe was on post number three during the tour
+ending at midnight. He was not molested, however, which was
+most fortunate for mischief-loving yearlings, for the K.C. had
+stationed two tacs. in hiding close by, to be promptly on hand in
+case of any attempted trouble.
+
+A few nights later it came Dick Prescott's turn to take the late tour
+on post number three. He was both apprehensive and watchful, but
+when the relief picked him up at midnight he had no report of any
+kind to make.
+
+It was well enough known throughout cadet camp that the
+superintendent and all his subordinates were bent sternly on
+stopping or severely punishing any attempts to interfere with
+sentries.
+
+As the weeks of hard work passed, and no more mysteries fell over
+post number three it began to be felt that plebes might thereafter
+walk there on the darkest night without worry.
+
+One day in July Dick found himself again on guard, with post
+number three for the "ghosts promenade"--that is, the tour ending
+at midnight.
+
+"Don't feel too secure, will you, old man?" begged Anstey. "Watch
+out, just the same, won't you?"
+
+"I always take that post as though it were one of especial danger,"
+Dick answered seriously.
+
+Which was well indeed, for Yearlings Davis, Graham and Poultney
+were even then plotting behind the walls of their tent.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII
+
+THE SENTRY MAKES A CAPTURE
+
+
+"Post number one! Eleven o'clock, and all's well."
+
+"Post number two! Eleven o'clock, and all's well!"
+
+Cadet Prescott, midway on his post, came to a halt, bringing his
+rifle to port arms.
+
+"Post number three! Eleven o'clock, and all's well."
+
+Nor did the plebe return his rifle to his shoulder and resume pacing
+until he heard the hail taken up and repeated by the man on
+number four. Thus the call traveled the rounds, back to number
+one, and died out.
+
+Just an instant later Plebe Prescott became suspicious that
+something was wrong in his immediate vicinity.
+
+Rain was threatening, and the sultry night was so dark that, on this
+shaded post, the young sentry could see barely a few yards away
+from him.
+
+Yet Dick was certain he saw something flash darkly by, not far
+away. It could hardly have been a shadow. Whatever it was, a
+clump of bushes now concealed the moving something.
+
+"Halt! Who's there?" hailed Cadet Prescott. He stopped to listen,
+bringing his rifle once more down to port arms.
+
+There was no response.
+
+Certain, however, that his senses had not been deluded, the young
+sentry stepped quickly toward the clump of bushes.
+
+From the other side of the bushes came a sudden sound of
+scrambling.
+
+"Halt! Who's there?" demanded Prescott again.
+
+Whoever it was, and plainly there was more than one man there,
+the prowlers had no mind to be held up by the sentry or the guard.
+
+"Halt, or I'll run a bayonet into you!" shouted Prescott resolutely.
+"Corporal of the guard, post number three!" he bellowed aloud.
+
+At the same time he was darting after the fugitives, whom it was
+too dark to distinguish. From the very little that his eyes could
+make out, however, it was his belief that the running men were
+cadets.
+
+Then one must have stumbled and fallen, for a figure lay between
+two bushes as Prescott dashed up.
+
+"Don't you attempt to rise until you get the word, or you'll feel the
+jab of my bayonet," warned Dick.
+
+He couldn't follow the others much further, anyway, as he had no
+authority to leave his post. The man on number four must have
+heard, and would be alert.
+
+"Where are you, number three sentry!" came Cadet Corporal
+Brodie's hail.
+
+"Here, sir!" Dick answered. He still stood watching the figure that
+lay in the shadow of the bushes. The fallen one had not attempted
+to move. Dick Prescott was close enough to make a thrust with his
+bayonet-tipped rifle if the fallen one made any effort to leap up.
+
+That was as close as Dick intended to get until help was at hand,
+for an old trick with cadets running the guard on a dark night on
+this lonely stretch was to wait until the sentry got close enough,
+then to reach out and grab him by the ankles, throwing him.
+
+Always, when such a trick was played successfully, the offender
+would be up, off and safe by the time the thrown sentry was on his
+own feet again.
+
+So Prescott, without in the least intending to let his prisoner get
+away, did not venture close enough to risk being pitched over on
+his back himself.
+
+"Poor old skylarker, too! I'm sorry for him," muttered Dick, under
+his breath. "I'm afraid this spells trouble for some yearling."
+
+"What can I do, though? I show my own unfitness if I let anyone run
+the guard past me."
+
+"Call again, sentry on three!" directed the voice of Corporal
+Brodie.
+
+"Here, sir," Dick answered.
+
+Then to the spot ran the corporal, followed by two men of the
+guard.
+
+"Two or more men attempted to cross this post, sir," Dick
+reported. "One tripped, and I'm holding him."
+
+"Head him off, if he attempts to run ahead," directed Mr. Brodie,
+nodding to one of his men of the guard. "Now, then, get up, and let
+us see whether you're a cadet, or only a banker's son."
+
+But the figure did not rise.
+
+"Get up, sir, I tell you," ordered Corporal Brodie, slowly stepping
+past Prescott.
+
+But the figure did not stir.
+
+"Perhaps the man fell and stunned himself," muttered Brodie.
+Passing his rifle to his left hand the corporal parted the bushes,
+then bent over the prostrate one.
+
+"Oh, hang you!" growled the cadet corporal. He seized the figure
+with his right hand, yanked it upward, then hurled it out, letting it
+fall again across the post.
+
+"Is that the man you stopped, Mr. Prescott?" demanded Corporal
+Brodie in disgust.
+
+But instead of answering, at that moment, Dick straightened up,
+brought his rifle to port, and hailed:
+
+"Halt! Who's there?"
+
+"The officer of the day," came out of the blackness.
+
+"Advance, officer of the day, to be recognized," Dick replied.
+
+Forward out of the deep shadow came Cadet Captain Reynolds.
+
+"What's the trouble, Corporal?" inquired the latest arrival.
+
+"Mr. Prescott reports that two or more persons attempted to run
+across his post, sir. He overtook one, who stumbled. Mr. Prescott
+was guarding his prisoner as I arrived, sir, and that was the
+prisoner!"
+
+Corporal Hasbrouck pointed in disdain at the stuffed figure that he
+had hauled out from under the bushes and Dick's bayonet.
+
+"A stuffed figure, in gray trousers and shirt, eh?" questioned
+Captain Reynolds. "Sentry, were the two or three men who got
+away from you of the same composition?"
+
+"I don't know, sir," Dick answered, with mortification. "All I know,
+sir, is that those who got away ran pretty fast, and made so little
+noise that they doubtless wore rubber-soled shoes."
+
+"You've been hoaxed, sentry," commented the officer of the day
+dryly. "Corporal, have your men of the guard bring the prisoner up
+to the guard tent. Sentry, if any more straw men attempt to cross
+your post, bring them down as well as you did this one. The straw
+men who got away from you made their way into camp, didn't
+they?"
+
+"Whoever escaped, sir, got into camp all right."
+
+As the guard-house party returned, Dick resumed the pacing of
+number three. He felt his face still blazing, from the quiet ridicule
+of the officer of the day.
+
+"I'll catch it to-morrow from everyone who thinks me worth
+noticing," growled the plebe to himself. "However, though I tried
+to do my full duty, I'm glad that was what I caught. I wouldn't care
+to march a comrade in, a prisoner."
+
+When the midnight relief came around, and Prescott's relief was
+posted in his place, the young plebe knew the ordeal ahead of him.
+
+As soon as the relieved squad was halted at the guard tent, and
+Dick entered to get himself a cup of coffee and a sandwich or two,
+his glance fell upon the stuffed figure, which reposed on the floor
+at the back of the tent as though it had been a veritable prisoner.
+
+"Did you shoot it, Prescott?" asked Derwent, the man who had just
+been relieved on number four.
+
+"No; he lassoed it with his neck-tie," jeered another man of the
+guard.
+
+"Wonder if the prisoner is hungry!" pursued Derwent. "Prescott,
+the prisoner is yours. Attend to his feeding. And the poor fellow
+should have some proper bedding, too, a chilly night like this."
+
+"A merciful soldier wouldn't eat until he had seen his prisoner
+fed," tantalized another.
+
+Dick had his cup of coffee at his mouth.
+
+"Prescott, old man," commented fat Smith, "you'll be commended
+in general orders for distinguished bravery."
+
+That was enough, in itself, to make Dick choke, but Smith
+emphasized his remark by slapping Dick on the back. An ounce of
+hot coffee, at least, "went down the wrong way." Choking and
+gasping for breath, trying to expel the coffee from his windpipe,
+and all the while obliged to lean well forward so as not to expel
+any of the coffee over the front of his blouse, Dick thought he
+never would get his breath again.
+
+"Instead of feeding his prisoner, I believe Mr. Prescott has been
+eating some of his prisoner," observed Corporal Hasbrouck dryly.
+"Mr. Prescott, himself, appears to be full of straw at present."
+
+The general laugh that followed didn't make it any easier for the
+victim of all this nonsense. In laughing again Dick choked so that
+he began to turn slightly black.
+
+"Dry up, you hyenas!" ordered Cadet Captain Reynolds, as he
+rushed to Prescott's relief. In a few moments the late sentry on
+number three was breathing easily again. He threw himself down
+on a mattress, and was soon asleep.
+
+But in the morning he had to go through the ordeal ten-fold. As
+Dick went to his tent to change some articles of clothing Bert
+Dodge appeared in the company street.
+
+"Hey, mister," called yearling Davis, after Bert, "I hear good news.
+Last night the guard caught the chap who shanghaied you."
+
+Even Greg and Anstey were prepared to quiz the "hero" of the
+comic episode of the night before.
+
+"That was a fine comic opera performance, old chap," grinned
+Anstey.
+
+"The next time you arrest a lay figure," suggested Greg, "at least be
+good enough to capture one that's stuffed with lemons."
+
+"Oh, the straw figure was a lemon, of a kind," laughed the
+Virginian.
+
+"Did the prisoner yell when you pricked point of your bayonet in
+its flesh of husks?" Greg wanted to know.
+
+"Do you expect the K.C. to mention you in orders for
+distinguished gallantry?" demanded Anstey.
+
+"Or to skin you on a suspicion of stealing straw from the artillery
+stables?" snickered Greg.
+
+"I know one funny thing about straw, anyway," declared Anstey,
+turning around to Holmes.
+
+"What?" asked Greg.
+
+"It's bound to tickle you," declared the Virginian gravely.
+
+Even at breakfast, in the cadet mess, Dick failed to get away from
+his tormentors. One of the yearlings, seated at a table not far from
+the one at which Prescott sat, called out to a classmate:
+
+"Queer thing about that prisoner bagged on number three last
+night. Did you hear who the prisoner turned out to be?"
+
+"No-o-o," drawled the other yearling, while a hundred pairs of eyes
+were turned on flame-faced Prescott.
+
+"It was the class president of the beasts" (plebes).
+
+"Kind of tough fate for the prisoner, though," railed another.
+
+"What's that?"
+
+"He's been sentenced to death. He is to be used as a target for the
+plebe squads in target practice."
+
+"That isn't a sentence of death; it's a guarantee of safety."
+
+This last sally turned the laugh on the entire plebe class. Dick
+flushed worse than ever when he saw many of his classmates
+begin to squirm.
+
+"They might, at least, take it all out on me, and leave the class
+alone," muttered Dick to himself.
+
+"Where are you going so fast, mister?" hailed a yearling, after the
+return to camp, as he beheld a plebe hurrying down a company
+street.
+
+"I'm summoned as a witness before the general court-martial,"
+called back Mr. Plebe, over his shoulder.
+
+"Court-martial? I hadn't heard there was to be one."
+
+"Yes, sir; they're going to try the prisoner caught on number three,
+sir."
+
+The yearling turned away grinning, for once not deeming it
+necessary to rebuke a "beast" for attempting to make a smart
+answer.
+
+Out on the range, at target practice, two mornings later, Dick did
+some especially bad shooting.
+
+"Don't be afraid of hitting the target, Mr. Prescott," advised
+Lieutenant Gerould dryly. "It's made of something more substantial
+than straw."
+
+A gleeful roar went up from some of the other "beasts."
+Lieutenant Gerould eyed them in surprise, for this Army officer
+was one of the few at West Point who had not already heard of
+number three sentry's capture.
+
+It was a fortnight ere Cadet Prescott could feel really secure
+against more "joshing" over the incident.
+
+"I'm better satisfied than if we had done what we set out to do to
+that plebe," remarked Yearling Davis to his tentmates.
+
+"Mr. Prescott is a rather decent sort--for a mere plebe," replied
+Poultney. "Do you know, I think he's almost glad that he caught the
+dummy we rigged for him. I believe the little beast would have
+hated to catch a uniform stuffed with human flesh."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV
+
+POOR GREG CAN'T EXPLAIN
+
+
+The weeks slipped by, though not without the friction of sincerely
+hard work.
+
+Dick, Greg and many of their classmates, toiling, marching,
+drilling under the hot sun that shone on the West Point plain and
+drill areas, acquired deep coats of manly tan on faces, necks and
+hands.
+
+In many a story of West Point life the summer encampment is
+made to appear "the good old summer time" of an Army career.
+The West Point cadet knows better. It is a season of the hardest
+work.
+
+At an hour when most city-dwelling boys are turning over in bed
+for another long and luxurious "snooze" the West Point cadet is up
+and doing in earnest.
+
+There is much instruction that the young man has to absorb.
+Merely to take part is not enough. The young man must make
+himself proficient in such branches of the soldier's art as cavalry
+tactics, drill, horsemanship, scouting, artillery tactics and drill,
+with drill at the guns of different calibers, and target practice with
+field, siege, mountain, mortar, howitzer and seacoast guns, with a
+lot of work in the service of mines.
+
+Infantry tactics, with unceasing drill and a lot of target practice,
+provide a great amount of work.
+
+Then there is a wide range of work to be mastered in practical
+military engineering, with the building of field fortifications,
+obstacles, spar and trestle bridges, pontoon bridges, military
+reconnoissance and sketching, map-making, surveying, military
+signaling and telegraphy, wireless and telephone service, the
+making of war material, the managing and handling of pack trains,
+field manoeuvres, and--well, it's not a season of ideal play!
+
+It was toward the end of this busy season of outdoor life that Greg
+got into his most serious trouble up to that time, with an upper
+class man.
+
+The day had been unusually hot, even for West Point. Those of the
+upper class men who felt the call to the evening's hop had dressed
+with utmost care and departed for the ballroom and the glances of
+soft eyes.
+
+An unusually large number, however, were in camp this evening.
+
+Tattoo sounds at 9.30. Men who wish are privileged to make up
+their beds and turn in at this hour. Greg was among the large
+number who went to sleep soon after tattoo this sultry night. For
+that matter, young Holmes was lonely, both Dick and Anstey
+having been drawn for guard duty.
+
+Five minutes after tattoo Yearlings Davis and Poultney sauntered
+down the company street.
+
+"Suzz-zz! suzz-zz! Horwack!" came sonorously from the tent solely
+occupied by Plebe Holmes.
+
+"Great Washington!" muttered Poultney. "Who smuggled a
+sawmill into camp?"
+
+"The disturbance of the peace comes from this abode of beasts,"
+declared Mr. Davis, halting and thrusting his head into the tent.
+
+Greg did not awaken, but snored on with crescendo effects.
+
+"We ought to teach a beast like that a lesson," whispered Poultney,
+as he, also, stared in at the unconscious but offending Greg.
+
+"How?"
+
+A hurried, whispered conference followed. Right after that Mr.
+Davis tied a stout cord to the tent-pole of the khaki house across
+the company street. Four feet of this cord were supported, in the
+crotches of two imbedded twigs, so that the cord lay about an inch
+and a half above the ground for a space of four feet close to the
+opposite tent. Then the balance of the cord was allowed to lie
+harmless across the company street. The end of the cord these two
+resourceful yearlings tied to a noose. Tiptoeing into Greg's tent
+they slipped the noose over one of Greg's forefingers.
+
+If, within the next few minutes, any passersby used that company
+street, they plainly must have passed on Greg's side of the
+thoroughfare, and thus have avoided fouling with the cord.
+
+Cadets who "drag femmes" to hop, and who have to escort their
+fair partners to hotel, or to some officer's house on the post, must
+go from Cullum Hall with their fair charges, leave them at the
+destined gate, and then return to camp, all within a stated,
+scheduled time.
+
+The time it properly takes to walk from Cullum Hall to the hotel
+grounds, or to any officer's house, is all scheduled and kept track
+of at the guard tent. The young man thus returning to camp after
+taps reports to what building he escorted his "femme," and the
+time of his return is noted on the guard report. If the cadet has
+overstayed his time he is called to account for it the next day.
+
+Yearling Butler had "dragged" this evening. He made guard tent on
+time, after a quick walk back to camp. Reporting, Mr. Butler saw
+the time noted by the amanuensis of the guard.
+
+Then, feeling really sleepy, the yearling continued at a rather brisk
+walk to the head of his company street, and turned down.
+
+Just as luck would have it Mr. Butler did not pass on Greg's side of
+the street, but passed rather close to the tent opposite.
+
+Certainly the yearling's eyes were not on the ground. He saw not
+the cord on this side of the street.
+
+There was a catch, a trip, and Mr. Butler went to the ground,
+mussing the knees of his spooniest pair of white ducks. Moreover,
+he cut the palm of his right hand, slightly, on a sharp pebble.
+
+The pulling on the cord gave Greg's right hand a sharp yank,
+awakening the innocent plebe.
+
+But Mr. Butler, having swiftly discovered the cord, and having
+ascertained in what direction it ran, made a dive into the tent just
+in time to see Greg sitting up on his mattress, holding the cord.
+
+"So, mister," gruffed the yearling, "is this the way you amuse
+yourself late at night?"
+
+"Why--what--" stammered Cadet Holmes.
+
+"Now, don't try any of that on me," urged Mr. Butler angrily.
+"Mister, you're caught with the freight in your possession. What
+are you holding that cord for, sir?"
+
+"I--I don't know, sir," quavered Greg, who was just beginning to
+feel awake after his rudely disturbed slumber.
+
+"You--don't--know!" retorted Mr. Butler, in high dudgeon.
+
+"What--what has happened, sir?" inquired Greg.
+
+To Mr. Butler this seemed very much like adding insult to injury.
+
+"You thought it was funny, did you, mister, to rig a cord across the
+company street?" raged the yearling, though he kept his voice
+down to a gentlemanly pitch. "You play tricks like that on upper
+class men. Of all the b.j. imps that ever put on gray! Mister, all I'm
+sorry for is that the officer of the day, or the O.C. didn't trip over
+your cord! Or the K.C. himself!"
+
+"Now, I want to understand this, sir," contended Cadet Holmes,
+rising from his mattress and stepping forward. "I've just been
+aroused out of a sound sleep, and I find myself with a cord tied to
+one of my fingers."
+
+"Oh, you do, mister?" jeered Mr. Butler harshly.
+
+"And you, sir, come into this tent and accuse me of something.
+What I am anxious to know, sir, is what it is that I am accused of."
+
+"See here, mister, I've no more time to waste on a b.j. beast.
+You've spoiled my best white ducks, and, incidentally, my temper.
+You compound this by adding more b.j.-ety. If you don't know
+what I'm going to do about it, wait until you hear from me, mister!"
+
+Turning, very erect and stiff, in his outraged dignity, Mr. Butler
+left the tent.
+
+"Now, what on earth have I done, anyway?" wondered Greg.
+
+In his perplexity he stepped to the doorway of his tent. He saw the
+business-like arrangement of the cord, and all was clear to him,
+now.
+
+"Some hazer has rigged that cord and tied one end to my finger,"
+gasped Plebe Holmes.
+
+Then a grin overspread his face.
+
+"Well, it was mighty clever, anyway."
+
+An instant more, and the grin gave place to a serious look.
+
+"Clever or not, it certainly spells trouble for me."
+
+When the cadets returned from breakfast in the morning, and while
+Greg was finishing the donning of field uniform for a forenoon of
+drill, a shadow fell across the doorway of the tent.
+
+Prescott and Anstey were still members of the guard, and therefore
+absent.
+
+"Mr. Holmes, I wish to speak with you," announced Mr. Haldane,
+of the yearling class.
+
+"Will you come in, sir?"
+
+Haldane stepped just inside the tent, standing severely erect and
+gazing coldly at the plebe.
+
+"Mr. Butler demands a fight with you, mister, and as early as
+possible."
+
+There was no mention of possible apology. Evidently Mr. Butler
+considered the affair one that could be remedied only by blows.
+
+"Mr. Haldane, I don't wish to ask much delay. But the two friends
+whom I shall want to represent me are on guard duty at present.
+May I ask that you see Mr. Prescott?"
+
+"Very good," acknowledged Mr. Haldane, and left the tent.
+
+"Now, I'm in for it," muttered Greg ruefully. "And the queer part of
+it is that I have to fight for a thing that I never did. But I'm not
+going to make any denials now, unless Dick advises it."
+
+It was evening, after the cadets had returned from supper, when
+Mr. Haldane appeared and asked for Prescott. The two stepped
+outside together, walking a little distance away to make the
+necessary arrangements.
+
+Dick was already in possession of the few facts that Greg had to
+tell him. Dick had advised against denying the prank, for the
+present, anyway.
+
+"It would look like playing the baby act," Prescott had explained to
+his chum, and in this view Anstey agreed.
+
+Mr. Haldane and Dick came to a speedy understanding. The fight
+was to take place the next morning, at the first peep of daylight.
+
+Promptly, however, the affair became noised about through camp.
+
+Butler was a considerably larger man than Greg, and looked in
+every way more powerful. Cadet Corporal Atwater, who was
+president of the yearling class, went to see Mr. Butler promptly.
+
+"At least, Butler, if you insist that the fight must be fought, let the
+scrap committee choose one of our class who is down nearer to the
+plebe's size," urged Mr. Atwater.
+
+"Under ordinary conditions, old fellow, I'd be tickled to do it,"
+replied Mr. Butler. "But, in a trick of this kind, I couldn't get any
+satisfaction out of anyone else hammering the b.j. beast who put
+up such a tumble for me."
+
+"I'm thinking the scrap committee may interfere with your plans,"
+rejoined Atwater, shaking his head. "We don't want fighting to
+degenerate into the appearance of bullying oppression of beasts."
+
+"I'll have to abide by the decision of the scrap committee, of
+course," admitted Butler. "But I hope the fellows won't interfere."
+
+Cadet Corporal Atwater promptly called the scrap committee
+together. Many newspaper writers, through ignorance, have
+condemned the existence of a scrap committee at West Point,
+claiming that it foments fights. The truth is that the scrap
+committee is a court of honor, formed for adjusting nice
+questions, and for preventing unfair fighting.
+
+Cadet Butler was summoned before the scrap committee, and
+stated his case. The decision of the scrap committee was that a
+fight would have to take place, but that Mr. Holmes was privileged
+to request the scrap committee to name a yearling who was
+Holmes's own size and weight, this substitute to fight in Mr.
+Butler's place at once.
+
+Cadet Corporal Atwater thereupon promptly called at Greg's tent,
+and stated the decision to the three tentmates.
+
+"Mr. Prescott will answer for me, sir," Greg replied respectfully.
+
+"Sir," Dick answered, "we appreciate the decision of the scrap
+committee. We recognize that we are being used with the utmost
+fairness, and that all Mr. Holmes's rights are being safeguarded in
+the most honorable manner. Yet, sir, this fight has a peculiar
+basis. More so than with most fights, I believe, sir, this is a purely
+personal one. Mr. Holmes, therefore, is prepared, sir, to give
+personal satisfaction. While the odds are very distinctly against
+him, he wishes to show that he can take his trouncing like a cadet
+and a gentleman. So, sir, with renewed assurances of our thanks
+and appreciation, Mr. Holmes is ready to meet Mr. Butler at
+daylight."
+
+"That is well spoken, sir," replied Mr. Atwater. "I appreciate the
+grit of Mr. Holmes's decision."
+
+The president of the yearling class went back to acquaint Mr.
+Butler with the outcome.
+
+Until close of taps Greg practiced various blows, feints and dodges
+in foot work.
+
+"You can't win, Greg," advised Anstey. "Of course that's out of the
+question. But, before you have to lose the count you want to make
+sure of giving Mr. Butler enough facial decorations to keep him
+satisfied for some time to come."
+
+At taps the three tentmates lay down on their mattresses, Dick with
+an alarm clock close to his hand.
+
+Cadets Prescott and Anstey were soon sound asleep. Greg,
+however, lay awake for a long time, thinking--thinking.
+
+"If I had some of Dick's lightning speed, and his capacity for
+sailing in like a cyclonic fury," thought Greg. "Whew, but I wish I
+had always given more attention to boxing than I have done.
+I will after this."
+
+Finally, Greg dozed off. The next he knew was when a brief,
+metallic "br-r-r-r?" sounded in the tent. In another instant Dick had
+the clock and was smothering the noise. Greg Holmes leaped up.
+It was the morning of his fight!
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV
+
+GREG OVERHEARS A PRETTY GIRL'S TRIBUTE
+
+
+In the tent it was still dark. It was at the fag-end of the night; the
+time which, as military commanders know, most tries men's
+bravery.
+
+The latter part of the night had been cool. Now, in the brief space
+before dawn the air was positively chilly.
+
+Greg shivered.
+
+Perhaps it was the chill of the air. It is also extremely likely that
+Greg Holmes dreaded the conflict that was about to come off with
+big Butler.
+
+Be that as it may, Cadet Holmes went on briskly with his dressing.
+The bravest man is he who, though afraid, goes straight ahead to
+the goal of battle despite his fears.
+
+Greg was more sensitive about blows than was his chum. Until he
+got into the heat of action Cadet Holmes dreaded the very idea of
+giving or taking a blow. There are many soldiers like this; but
+when they get into action they are the bravest of the brave.
+
+Dick and Anstey were also getting themselves swiftly in readiness.
+To Dick, veteran of three West Point fights, the greatest cause for
+regret seemed to lie in being robbed of some of their much-needed
+sleep.
+
+In almost no time, so it seemed, three cadets fully attired in
+uniform, stole cautiously from the tent, slipping down the
+company street.
+
+Dick carried Greg's fighting clothes. Cadet Anstey carried a bucket
+in which lay a sponge.
+
+Whether cadet sentries on guard deliberately aid in letting fight
+parties slip across a post it would be impossible to say. Certain it is
+that Mr. Prescott, in the lead, reconnoitred carefully, then crossed
+the post at the point furthest from the sentry's half-audible
+footsteps. His two friends slipped over with him.
+
+The faint gray of earliest dawn was just showing through the trees
+when the plebe trio came in sight of the famous hollow below old
+Fort Clinton.
+
+Here already paced Mr. Plympton and Mr. Connors of the first
+class. They were to take charge of the affair.
+
+"Good morning, mister," nodded Mr. Plympton to Dick, as
+Prescott came in sight at the head of his party. Greg and Anstey
+came in for no particular notice from the first class men.
+
+"Hullo, But!"
+
+"Hullo, old Conjunction!"
+
+These were the greetings that Butler received when he appeared,
+followed by Haldane and Post. These young men, being yearlings,
+were actually human beings. At least, that was the way the plebes
+felt.
+
+Now the stripping began rapidly. Each principal drew on a
+sleeveless jersey and gymnasium trousers, the latter secured by a
+belt. On the feet were rubber-soled shoes, as giving the best
+chance for foothold on the damp ground.
+
+The seconds began kneading the muscles of their principals, and
+otherwise putting them in shape.
+
+Mr. Butler yawned two or three times, appearing slightly bored.
+Greg did not glance in the direction of his coming antagonist, but
+Holmes's face was impassive, inscrutable. He did not appear
+nervous. The moment had come, and Greg faced the situation
+dumbly but absolutely without fear.
+
+Then the principals were placed in their corners. Referee Plympton
+stated the terms under which the meeting was to be held. Then at
+the call, the two cadets leaped forward.
+
+"Remember the moves we planned last night," had been Dick's last
+whispered words.
+
+On Butler's face rested a broad grin. He pranced about lightly,
+swinging his hardmuscled arms. He intended to start with a bit of
+easy nonsense, putting Holmes off his guard. Then the yearling's
+plan was to make the affair a lesson in scientific mauling.
+
+While Butler was dancing about, grinning, Greg, vastly more
+watchful than he appeared to be, suddenly let his right out in a
+feint, then followed with a left drive.
+
+Butler all but struck this blow up, yet, as he darted back from the
+parry, the yearling tasted blood from his own lower lip. That
+taught him that even a despised little plebe like Mr. Holmes might
+have his points of danger.
+
+"Now, stand up and let us see how good your quick counter is,"
+laughed the yearling, dancing about.
+
+Butler's footwork was fine and fast, but Greg, watching him, only
+pivoted about, putting up his hands with great speed. Thus Greg
+blocked all but three or four lighter blows up to the time when the
+time-keeper's interruption came.
+
+"You won't need to do much in the rubbing line," whispered Greg,
+as his seconds started in on him in his "corner." "My man, as yet,
+hasn't any more than warmed me up."
+
+"Look out for a smash on the nose, old fellow," warned Dick. "You
+got first blood in a half-sort of way, by that cut on the other man's
+lip. In this next round Mr. Butler will try to get the real first
+blood."
+
+"I hope so," muttered Greg dreamily. "For that one I believe I have
+one of the best counters known."
+
+Surely enough, in the beginning of the second round, Butler
+feinted, then led off for a hard one on the plebe's nose. But the
+delivery was the very one that Cadet Holmes wanted. He ducked,
+feinted, and slammed in just above Mr. Butler's belt with such
+force that the big yearling staggered. Yet Butler was a wary
+fighter; he blocked Greg's follow-up scheme, then fought for time.
+Towards the end of the round, however, Butler again tried for the
+plebe's nose. This time he failed again, but Greg's counter-blow
+landed on the point of a shoulder. Butler would have been away in
+another instant, but Greg's right came out of a hook and tapped the
+yearling emphatically on the end of his nose. As the yearling
+fought back furiously the blood spurted from his nose.
+
+Then, just before time was called, Greg got his left eye too much
+in line with the yearling's right fist.
+
+Dazed, Cadet Holmes was saved only by the word from the
+time-keeper. Had the round lasted fifteen seconds more Mr. Butler
+would have had the plebe out.
+
+Erect, and as jauntily went back to his corner. [Transcriber's note:
+missing text?]
+
+"I reckon you've got as a bad looking window here," murmured
+Anstey sympathetically, as he swabbed at the damaged surface
+around the eye. "Make it short, Holmesy, or you're going to meet
+with more damage, I reckon."
+
+"This is the last serious smash that Greg is going to take," put in
+Dick coolly. "In the third he's going to remember the old Gridley
+fighting principle: Greg, you simply can't be whipped. Now, wade
+in and seize hold of Mr. Butler's scalp-lock."
+
+Soon the fighters were at it again. Two or three body blows Greg took,
+and they stung, coming from such steam-driven fists as the yearling's.
+But Mr. Holmes's damaged left eye was closing rapidly. He was forced
+to squint through that eye, getting most of his sight through the
+right. Of course, the yearling, who now realized he had something more
+than a dummy to fight, manoeuvred at Greg's left side after that.
+
+The third round was drawing to a close. Butler landed one on the
+side of young Holmes's head that sent the plebe spinning. Yet, as
+he swung, Greg dropped a hard blow on Mr. Butler's already
+damaged nose. There was a gasp of pain from the yearling.
+
+"Time!" called Mr. Connors.
+
+Greg went back to his seconds, a good deal jarred, his wind
+troubled, and his left eye rapidly assuming a most ugly look. One
+more really good one from the larger fighter would put the plebe
+out of the affair.
+
+"Be cool, now, old chap," admonished Dick in an undertone, as he
+and Anstey worked over their comrade. "The next round probably
+decides it."
+
+"Cool!" grimaced Cadet Holmes. "Why, I guess I am everywhere
+except in my punished eye. That feels like a red-hot furnace!"
+
+As the men faced each other for the fourth round Greg, through
+his right eye, saw a look of intent in Butler's eye that meant
+business. The yearling was now going in, in earnest, to wind up
+this affair.
+
+"I'm going to get something out of this!" grumbled Cadet Holmes
+inwardly.
+
+As Butler came at him, swift and terrible, Cadet Holmes formed
+the purpose of playing off a block to be followed by a direct and
+sure assault on one of his man's eyes. And presently the chance
+came. Greg bounced in so resolutely over Butler's right eye that the
+yearling staggered back, fighting for sight and wind. But Greg,
+who knew it was thrash-or-be-thrashed, was merciless. He leaped
+about, harassing his opponent, then sent in a well-calculated blow
+that closed the yearling's other eye.
+
+Butler reeled. It looked as though he must go down. Greg,
+unwilling to take any unfair advantage, paused a second. Then,
+realizing that Mr. Butler was keeping his feet, Cadet Holmes
+leaped in, feinting blow after blow with such speed that the
+yearling was dazed. Suddenly, with a new feint for the yearling's
+solar plexus, Holmes suddenly raised, driving in hard on the left
+side of Mr. Butler's jaw. That sent the dazed man down. He went
+in a heap, then unfolded and lay limp.
+
+Time-keeper Connors began to count, though perfunctorily. There
+was no reason to believe that Mr. Butler could wake up in time,
+and he didn't. Mr. Plympton, in a cold tone, awarded the fight to
+the plebe. Butler's seconds went to work over him, but it was some
+minutes before they brought him back to consciousness. By this
+time Greg was dressed.
+
+"Mr. Butler," murmured Greg, bending over his at last conscious
+opponent, "I would like to say a word--now. That business with the
+cord was a trick put up on me, not on you. You were only the
+incidental victim. I had no willing or knowing part in your
+discomfiture. I tell you this now, sir, after having proved that I
+wasn't afraid merely of being called out. I am tremendously sorry
+that this fight had to be."
+
+"You held up your end all right, mister," was the yearling's concise
+tribute.
+
+Then, after sending Anstey back to camp with the officials, Dick
+accompanied Greg to cadet hospital, where the latter's eye was
+dressed and "painted out" as much as could be.
+
+Both of Mr. Butler's seconds were required to help him to hospital.
+Nor did the yearling get out very soon. His jaw had not been
+fractured, but for some days the medical officers feared
+"green-stick" fracture, with a consequent danger of suppuration. It
+was not until after the end of the encampment that the yearling
+was discharged from hospital.
+
+"Where's Mr. Butler to-night?" inquired a very pretty girl, as she
+strolled through camp in the evening, between two attentive
+yearlings. She was the same whom Butler had last accompanied to
+a hop.
+
+"Mr. Butler is in hospital," replied Mr. McGraw.
+
+"Yes, and pounded to such a pulp that his mother wouldn't know
+him," laughed a young "cit.," the girl's cousin. "Over there is
+Holmes, the plebe who did it."
+
+"What a disgusting brute Mr. Holmes must be!" muttered the girl
+indignantly, and Greg, hearing her, colored violently, but could not
+reply. Plebes are not allowed the acquaintance of the young ladies.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI
+
+TAPS SOUNDS ON SUMMER
+
+
+Cadet Dodge spent the last days of the encampment on sick
+report.
+
+He got word that Mr. Poultney was one of the yearlings concerned
+in his discomfiture on post number three, and boldly confronted
+the yearling with the charge.
+
+In the fight that followed Dodge received a fearful walloping from
+Mr. Poultney.
+
+The laws of courtesy are enforced by these fights. A new man,
+entering the United States Military Academy, often has a most
+exaggerated idea of his own importance and merits. In some
+instances the new cadet is likely to disregard the rights of upper
+class men. A fight puts the offending plebe where he belongs.
+Further, the knowledge that he will have to fight for every serious
+infraction of the rules of courtesy results in quickly making a
+disciplined soldier and considerate gentleman out of the cadet who
+is inclined to be bumptious.
+
+In the training of personal character it may readily be believed that
+the cadet's plebe year, with its "chalk-line" and repression, is worth
+all the rest of the time spent at West Point.
+
+Milk-sops and peace-at-any-price advocates may as well turn their
+attention away from West Point. These ultra-peaceable ones, who
+long for the promotion of peace through the abolition of all armies,
+have at hand an experiment that can be carried out only on a
+smaller scale.
+
+Let these peace-at-any-price agitators, in a given community, set
+about to stamp out crime by abolishing the police force! An army
+is merely a force of international policemen.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *       *
+
+In the last days of August the furloughed new second class
+returned. The young men, after reporting at the adjutant's office at
+the required hour, formed and marched to camp, still in "cit."
+clothes.
+
+First and third class men rushed out to receive and congratulate the
+returned travelers, while the plebes stood shyly by. Their welcome
+was not wanted. Then the second class men disappeared into their
+tents. They were out again, quickly enough, in white ducks and
+the cadet gray blouses. They had taken up the cadet life for two
+years more. In the afternoon these second class men swelled the
+ranks of the battalion and went through, with all the old-time
+fervor, the grand old ceremony of dress parade.
+
+That night came the "Show." This annual show at the end of
+August may be either the Camp Illumination or the Color Line
+Entertainment. This year the class presidents had asked for the
+latter.
+
+As soon as dark came on, the Color Line--the central line through
+cadet camp--blazed out with lights. Soon after the band began to
+play gayly. Hundreds of visitors, most of them women, and the
+majority quite young women, flocked to camp. Along the color
+line the guns of the battalion were stacked. Over the center of the
+line the colors of the country and the cadet colors were draped
+with beautiful effect. Cadets of the three upper classes escorted the
+visitors through. The plebes stood by their own tents, answering
+when spoken to, which was not often.
+
+After the band had played several selections the musicians moved
+up before a hastily constructed stage. Plays or musical farces,
+written and acted by cadets, are often presented. In Dick's plebe
+summer, however, the choice had been for a minstrel show.
+
+Half an hour before the opening of the performance thirty of the
+cadets vanished to a big dressing tent behind the stage.
+
+Before the stage hundreds of seats had been arranged. Every cadet
+who escorted ladies was privileged to sit with them. Cadets who
+"stagged" it were expected to stand. All of the plebes were in this
+number.
+
+Presently the cadets, their faces blacked, came out of the dressing
+tent, taking their places off the stage. A regulation first part was
+now provided, with the aid of the band playing as an orchestra. In
+style it was the minstrel first part with which we are all familiar.
+There was this difference: The jokes hit off exclusively local
+affairs and conditions. The officers who served as instructors at
+West Point did not by any means escape in the running fire of
+minstrelsy nonsense.
+
+Then came forth a woeful figure, blackfaced and attired in a
+dilapidated uniform. As he turned sideways it was noted that this
+cadet, who was really a rollicking second class man, wore on his
+back a card labeled in large letters:
+
+"Plebe. Please don't mistreat."
+
+At first sight of the pitiable object a roar of laughter went up from
+the spectators. Nowhere was the laughter louder than in the ranks
+of the standing plebes themselves, at the rear of the audience. This
+woeful-looking performer, after the orchestra had played a few
+preliminary strains, launched into a parody of "Nobody Loves Me."
+The song was full of hits on the b.j. "beast." The real plebes
+[Transcriber's note: missing text] with keen enjoyment.
+
+"Mr. Plescott!" called the interlocutor, after the song and two
+encore verses had been sung.
+
+"Yes, sah," falteringly replied the minstrel plebe, turning
+awkwardly and saluting with the wrong hand.
+
+Though the name called was "Plescott," half of the plebe class
+turned to grin at Cadet Richard Prescott.
+
+Dick stood it well, waiting to see what the performer would next
+say.
+
+"Mr. Plescott," continued the interlocutor, "I heard something said
+about you this morning that I didn't in the least like."
+
+"Ye-e-es, sah?" inquired the minstrel plebe falteringly.
+
+"I consider it, Mr. Plescott, a most insulting thing that I heard said
+about you."
+
+"Ye-e-es, sah?" faltered the performer, his knees shaking and his
+eyes rolling in apprehension.
+
+"Mr. Plescott, your defamer said you were not fit to eat with
+Hottentot savages! I had to call the fellow down severely. Think
+of it, Mr. Plescott--you not fit to eat with Hottentot savages."
+
+"Dat was a mighty mean thing to say, sah. Mought ah ask what yo'
+said to de gemmun?"
+
+"I told your defamer, Mr. Plescott, that he was entirely in error in
+asserting that you are not fit to eat with Hottentot savages. I
+assured him that you were!"
+
+There was a wild whoop of glee from the spectators, especially
+from the other plebes, and Dick, though he laughed heartily,
+reddened when he found himself focused by so many scores of
+eyes.
+
+Then the singer dropped off into another song, and the nonsense
+went on. After the first part came an olio in which were some fine
+singing, dancing, juggling and other work.
+
+The performance came to an end in time for the cadets and their
+visitors to take another stroll through camp.
+
+Bang! Bang! Bang! A glow and a burst of red fire! There was a
+bewildering maze of pyrotechnics. After five minutes of this the
+fireworks ceased, and, though the camp lights still burned the
+contrast seemed almost like darkness.
+
+The members of the band rose. As the leader's baton fell the notes
+of "The Star Spangled Banner" rose triumphant on the night air. It
+was a glorious sight as a hundred Army officers and five hundred
+United States cadets clicked their heels, stood instantly at
+attention, uncovered their heads and stood with caps held over
+their hearts.
+
+As the strains died out there was an impressive pause. Then, in
+lighter vein, the band rollicked out with the old, familiar, "Good
+Night Ladies," and, laughing merrily, the visitors departed, their
+cadet friends going with them only as far as camp limits.
+
+Out on the plains beyond the visitors again halted for a brief
+instant.
+
+In front of the guard tent a drummer sounded "taps"--three strokes
+on the drum. All but the authorized lights in guard tent and O.C.'s
+tent were extinguished.
+
+The summer encampment was over.
+
+"Oh, dear!" sighed many a fair visitor as she returned to a
+sheltering roof. "The summer's fun is over. To-morrow these
+splendid young men will be back in barracks, grilling and boning
+for their very lives!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII
+
+MR. DODGE GOES CANVASSING
+
+
+Yes, the good old summer time was over. Bending over study
+tables in cadet barracks the young men pored over books and
+papers of their own making.
+
+The first few days seemed fearfully hard. To the young men who
+had been for weeks away from their books it seemed for a while
+all but impossible to pick up the threads of study in a way that
+would anything like satisfy the Army officers who acted as their
+relentless instructors.
+
+"Relentless?" To the average boy in grammar or high school it
+does not seem like a hardship to be required to make a percentage
+of at least sixty-six and two-thirds per cent. in all studies. In the
+public schools it seems rather easy to reach that kind of an
+average.
+
+At West Point the markings are on a scale of three, with decimal
+shadings. A man who secures in any study a marking of two is
+deemed proficient. If his average marking in a term is 2.6, he is
+rather highly proficient in that study. A marking of two on a scale
+of three is equivalent to sixty-six and two-thirds per cent., and this
+does not seem, to the outsider, a difficult attainment. But the West
+Point speed of study! In a high school the young man is given the
+whole of the first year in which to qualify in simple algebra; in the
+second year he takes up plane geometry; in the third he comes
+upon solid geometry; in the fourth year of high school work the
+young man masters plane trigonometry and solves allied problems.
+
+At West Point, in the plebe year, the young man, in the first half of
+the year, goes through simple algebra and plane and solid
+geometry. In the second half of the year he must force his way
+understandingly through advanced algebra and plane and spherical
+trigonometry! This is his mathematics work merely for the first
+year, yet it is more and more thoroughly covered than the high
+school boy's entire course.
+
+During their first three months of plebedom, and with their course
+behind them in the really fine high school at Gridley, Dick and
+Greg had not found their math. much of a torment. But now, after
+coming back from encampment, these young men began to wake
+up to the fact that West Point mathematics is a giant contrasted
+with the pigmy of public school mathematics. The two chums
+began to put in every minute they could spare over the long,
+bewildering array of problems assigned for each recitation.
+
+"What a curious delusion we had, back at Gridley!" laughed Greg,
+in their room, one night.
+
+"Which particular delusion was that!" Dick demanded, without
+looking up from his geometry.
+
+"Why, we thought our easy old Gridley work in math. was going to
+fit us to race easily through the first two years here!"
+
+"That isn't the only pipe that has burned out in our pockets since
+we became plebes!" grunted Dick.
+
+"Are you going to max it (get a high marking) in math., to-morrow,
+old fellow?"
+
+"I'm going to 'fess out (fail) more likely," sighed Dick. "How are
+you coming on, general?"
+
+"I'd give a good deal to be able to ask a first class man how to
+solve the fourth problem on to-morrow's list," groaned Greg.
+
+"I'd show you," sighed Dick, "only I'm afraid I might lead you into
+an ambush where you'd get scalped by the instructor."
+
+In each class, and in every subject of study, the young men are
+divided, for recitation purposes, into sections of eight or ten men.
+In each study the section to which the young man belongs is
+determined by his relative standing in that study. The "banner"
+section is made up of the cadets who stand highest in the class in
+that particular study. At the end of every week the markings of
+each cadet in every one of his studies is posted, and the sections
+are rearranged, if need be. The men in the lowest section of all in a
+given study are styled the "goats." The members of the "goat"
+section, in math. for instance, are men who feel rather certain that
+they will presently be "found" and dropped from the cadet corps.
+However, at the beginning of a year a man may fall into the
+"goats," and then later, may pull up so that he reaches a higher
+section and goes on with better standing. But in general the
+"goats" are looked upon as men who are going to be dropped, and
+this usually applies, also, to a majority of the men in the two or
+three sections just above the "goats."
+
+About forty per cent. of the young men who enter West Point as
+cadets are dropped before their course is over. Most of these losses
+occur in the plebe and yearling classes. When a man has
+completed two years at West Point he has a very good chance to
+get through and win his commission as an officer in the Army.
+
+In geometry Greg was in the third section above the "goats," Dick
+in the sixth.
+
+"I wish I had your head, old ramrod!" groaned Greg, half an hour
+later.
+
+"If I should lose even a hair's weight from my head I'd be in the
+'goats' next week," replied Prescott grimly. "If I ever get to be an
+officer in the Army, I wonder what earthly good all these math.
+headaches will do me in handling a bunch of raw rookies?"
+
+"If we have to go back to Gridley, 'skinned,'" grimaced Greg, "we'll
+at least have company. Dodge is only a tenth above 'goat' grade in
+geom., and next week will probably see him there."
+
+"And he was considered a good student in Gridley!" quoth Dick
+sadly.
+
+That Dodge, however, still had hopes of being able to hold on was
+proved by the fact that he was now conducting a vigorous
+campaign for election to the class presidency.
+
+"I think I am as good as elected class president," he wrote home to
+the elder Dodge. And, the next time Theodore Dodge went over to
+his bank in Gridley, Theodore Dodge circulated the news among
+his intimates. The evening "Mail," in Gridley, came out with the
+statement that Dodge was sure to become class president.
+
+"And thus Gridley will have cause to feel that it occupies no small
+place of honor, after all, in national affairs," penned the editor of
+the "Mail."
+
+Dodge had a rather fair following of friends in the class, since he
+had become modest enough to drop his pretensions to caste and
+extra social position and they were working hard for him.
+
+That young man came early to Dick and Greg, asking them to
+work for him.
+
+"I don't quite care to pledge myself," Dick replied kindly. "When
+the class meeting is called I'd rather go in with a free mind on the
+subject. Then, Dodge, if I consider you the best man put in
+nomination, I'll vote for you."
+
+Though this was not a positive assurance Dodge and his campaign
+managers made use of it to put Dick's name in the list of
+supporters.
+
+One evening, at dress parade, when the cadet adjutant read the
+day's orders, he came to this announcement:
+
+"Members of the fourth class are requested to meet, under
+permission of the Superintendent, at the Y.M.C.A. at eight
+o'clock to-night, for the election of a class president, and for
+transaction of such other business as may properly come before the
+meeting. Members of the upper classes will accordingly remain
+away from the Y.M.C.A. to-night."
+
+"Remember, you fellows," called Bert Dodge, thrusting his head
+into Dick and Greg's room after return to barracks, "I count upon
+your strong support to-night."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII
+
+THE PLEBE CLASS CHOOSES ITS PRESIDENT
+
+
+Not a man save two on sick report at cadet hospital was absent
+when Cadet Hopper, acting as temporary chairman, the plebe class
+called to order.
+
+"Gentlemen," he announced, "you all know the principal reason for
+our being here. We are, in especial, to elect a class president.
+Therefore I will take time only to urge upon you the great
+importance of to-night's planned action.
+
+"The class president is to be, in a word, the class leader. The
+president of this class is to stand before the entire cadet body, and
+before the authorities of the United States Military Academy, as
+the representative of this class.
+
+"It goes without saying, I think, that our president should be, in
+every respect, the best possible representative of the class as a
+whole. He should be as nearly as possible the ideal man of the
+class--the man who stands for the best, the manliest and the most
+loyal thoughts and aspirations of this class.
+
+"As brevity is always highly to be prized, I will say no more at this
+moment. If any gentleman present desires to address the class, I
+will recognize him for that purpose. If, after a pause, we ascertain
+that no member desires to make a general address, I will then rule
+that the election is next in order."
+
+"Mr. Chairman!"
+
+"Mr. Lawrence."
+
+"I believe, Mr. Chairman," cried Mr. Lawrence, "that I have never
+heard the objects or the duty of a meeting better expressed, or in
+fewer words. I am certain that I voice the sense of this class
+meeting when I say that the thanks of the plebe class are due to the
+chairman. I have only to add my own personal, urgent appeal that
+the man chosen for the greatest honor we can bestow be truly a
+man who represents the best that there is in this class. And now,
+Mr. Chairman, I move that we proceed at once to nominations."
+
+"Nominations with speeches?" asked the chairman.
+
+"Yes, Mr. Chairman."
+
+"I second the motion, as amended," declared Cadet Thompson.
+
+The motion was put and carried.
+
+Cadets Hopper and Lawrence were both nominated, and the
+nominations seconded.
+
+"Mr. Chairman!"
+
+"Mr. Delavan."
+
+Cadet Delavan was upon his feet, the recognized and avowed
+arch-supporter of Mr. Dodge. Delavan made an introductory
+appeal in which he brought forth and endorsed the remarks of the
+chair. He then brought forth, as leading characteristics in a wise
+and capable class president a high sense of honor, wide judgment,
+intimacy with the world and its social usages, and unswerving
+loyalty to country, the Military Academy and the class.
+
+"In these and in all other essential and even ideal respects, Mr.
+Chairman, we have everything that can be asked for in Mr. Dodge.
+Mr. Chairman, I most earnestly and urgently place Mr. Dodge in
+nomination for the office of president of this class."
+
+Then Hadley was on his feet at once. In a longer and more
+eloquent speech he seconded the nomination. Hadley possessed the
+gift of eloquence. As he proceeded in his remarks he convinced
+many, until now wavering, that Bert Dodge was the most available
+man for the great office. When Hadley sat down it was the general
+opinion that Dodge was about as good as elected.
+
+There was a long pause. Then:
+
+"Mr. Chairman!"
+
+"Mr. Anstey."
+
+The Virginian nodded to the chair, then looked slowly around at
+all the faces. It was some moments ere his voice was again heard.
+When he did speak it was in a low, clear voice that gradually
+increased in volume.
+
+"Mr. Chairman, and fellow members of the fourth class," Anstey
+continued in soft accents, "it may, at first thought, seem almost
+treacherous that I should favor any comrade over my own
+roommate."
+
+Bert Dodge flushed angrily, then paled.
+
+"Believe me, sir and gentlemen, only a burning desire to see the
+best interests of the class served could nerve me to such a seeming
+lack of grace."
+
+In the intense stillness that followed the noise that Bert Dodge
+made in shifting his feet on the floor sounded loud, indeed. Anstey
+was a trifle paler than usual, but he was working under an intense
+conviction, and the grit and dash of his Revolutionary forbears was
+quite sufficient to carry him on unswervingly to his goal of duty to
+the class.
+
+"Against Mr. Dodge, sir and classmates, I have no word to offer. I
+will admit that he would make a good president of the class. In one
+study Mr. Dodge for a while stood so persistently among the goats
+as to hint at the possibility that he might not be with us long."
+
+Bert flushed angrily.
+
+"But, most fortunately," pursued Anstey, in the same soft, Southern
+voice, "Mr. Dodge has lately pulled himself up from among the
+goats, and is most likely to remain here at the Academy for the
+allotted period of four years.
+
+"Yet, sir and classmates, the words of our temporary presiding officer
+have sunk deeply into my brain. We must choose the man who is most
+truly representative of the whole spirit, purpose and daring of the
+class. With all due and high respect, gentlemen, for my own roommate,
+I desire to bring forward for your consideration the one who, I feel
+certain, stands more closely than any of us to all the grand old
+traditions of intelligence, daring, loyalty, leadership, good
+fellowship and unfailing good judgment. The man I would nominate,
+sir, will, to my mind, lead this class as no class has been led at the
+Military Academy within the last generation or two."
+
+Mr. Anstey paused, glancing at the faces in front.
+
+"Name him!"
+
+"Yes! Name him!"
+
+"Mr. Chairman, and classmates," continued the Virginian, "I have
+the honor--and I assure you I feel it an honor to have made the
+discovery--I have the honor to place in nomination for the class
+presidency the name of that splendid fellow and soldier-at-heart--Mr.
+Prescott!"
+
+Greg it was gave a whoop that started the cheering.
+
+"You sneak!" muttered Dodge under his breath, trying to hide the
+fire that burned in his eyes as he looked again at Cadet Anstey. But
+five men caught the low-uttered word and it cost Dodge five votes.
+
+"Further nominations are in order," suggested Chairman Hopper.
+
+There was a long pause, after which it was moved, seconded and
+carried that the nominations be closed.
+
+"The chair then directs," continued Mr. Hooper, "that Messrs.
+Gentry, Hawkes, Fletcher and Simmons serve as tellers. Voting will be
+by written ballot, on slips that will be supplied by the tellers."
+
+Soon the tellers circulated again through the meeting, receiving the
+written ballots in their caps. These were brought forward to the
+table behind the platform desk and counted. Then, after securing
+the floor, teller Hawkes announced the result as follows:
+
+"Whole number of votes cast, 122; necessary to choice, 61. Of
+these Mr. Dodge has received 48; Mr. Prescott, 39; Mr. Hopper,
+19, and Mr. Lawrence, 16."
+
+"No choice having been made by the majority voting," decided the
+chair, "the tellers will again distribute blank slips and another
+ballot will be cast."
+
+The second balloting resulted in this layout:
+
+Dodge, 52; Prescott, 40; Hopper, 16; Lawrence, 14.
+
+"No choice having yet been made, a third balloting will be
+necessary," ruled the chair.
+
+"Mr. Chairman--one moment, please!"
+
+"Mr. Lawrence."
+
+"Mr. Chairman and classmates," went on Lawrence hastily, "I
+regret that I have not the silver tongue possessed by some who
+have spoken to-night. Did I possess such a precious thing I would
+know how to thank appropriately, perhaps, those who have favored
+me enough to vote for me. I do thank these friends, though not as I
+would wish I might. But I now respectfully ask all of my friends
+who have voted for me to vote with me, and cast their votes for
+Mr. Prescott."
+
+"The chair wishes to withdraw its name from this contest, with a
+similar tribute of thanks," declared Mr. Hopper. "Yet, perhaps as
+temporary presiding officer, it will not be wholly proper for me to
+declare in favor of either of the remaining candidates."
+
+Then the tellers distributed ballots again. There was a great deal of
+excitement in the air. Bert Dodge and Dick Prescott were the
+observed of many eyes. Again the ballots were taken up and
+counted.
+
+"Gentlemen," announced Chairman Hopper, as one of the tellers
+handed him a slip, "Mr. Dodge has fifty votes and Mr. Prescott has
+seventy-two. Mr. Prescott is, therefore, elected president of this
+class."
+
+"Mr. Chairman," cried Greg, leaping to his feet, "I move to make
+the election unanimous."
+
+"Second the motion!" called half a dozen at once.
+
+It was put to an aye-and-no vote and carried rousingly.
+
+"The chair gladly relinquishes its temporary post to the one elected
+to fill it," announced Mr. Hopper.
+
+Anstey, Greg and a dozen others gleefully escorted the class
+president to the platform.
+
+Dick addressed the meeting in a quiet, low voice, but he heartily
+thanked the class for the honor it had accorded him.
+
+"I'm not going to make a speech, gentlemen," he continued.
+"Perhaps a speech from me will be worth more when I am through
+with the office. But I have listened attentively to what has been
+outlined to-night by other speakers as constituting a worthy
+president, and I can only add that I shall do all that may possibly
+be in my power to live up to such ideals. The chair now stands
+ready to be advised of any further business that may properly come
+before the meeting."
+
+There being no "business," the time was taken up with speeches
+from several plebes who wanted to be heard. The subject of their
+treatment by the yearlings came in for much attention. Many of the
+speakers expressed burning indignation at the "small show"
+accorded to the plebe class.
+
+"Hasn't our president something to say on this subject?" called
+some one.
+
+"I shall be glad to speak on this very matter," smiled Cadet
+Prescott, rising. "Gentlemen of the class, I know that we are
+traveling over a road that, even under the most genial conditions,
+would be a rough one. Many of us feel that the yearling class is
+devoting all its energies to making that road a still rougher one."
+
+"Hear! Hear!" cried a dozen at once.
+
+"But, gentlemen," continued the new class president, "next June
+we shall be yearlings. There will be a new lot of plebes here, and I
+feel rather certain that we shall treat them just about as we are now
+being treated."
+
+There were murmurs of dissent at this.
+
+"For generations," continued Cadet Prescott, "the plebe at West
+Point has had to rough it. You are all familiar with the truism that
+a soldier must learn to obey before he is fit for command. In much
+the same way, I fancy, the plebe must travel a rough road before he
+is thoroughly broken in and fitted to enjoy the delights of full
+equality and recognition with upper class men.
+
+"We are no more put upon than was every present upper class
+man during his first year here. When we reach the sublime heights
+on which the yearlings dwell I believe that we shall look back and
+appreciate the fact that we truly needed some round thrashing into
+shape. We shall feel grateful to our present enemies, the
+yearlings--and we will turn around and help the new lot of plebes
+through the same kind of first-year life. In the meantime,
+classmates, I earnestly advise that we establish at least one record
+here. Let us, from now on, prove ourselves to be the gamest of
+plebes who have suffered here in many a year. The more patiently
+we bear it now, in all patience, the better yearlings, the better
+second class men and first class men we shall be when our time
+comes. The motto of a famous sovereign is, 'I serve.' Let our plebe
+class motto be, 'I grin and bear.'"
+
+This wasn't exactly what the plebes had been expecting from their
+new leader. For a few moments after Dick sat down there was
+silence. Then a half dozen began to applaud. The noise grew, until
+half the plebes were cheering.
+
+"Thank you, gentlemen," smiled the class president. "I think we are
+now well started on the way to becoming useful members of the
+Army."
+
+"What do you think of our new leader?" one of Bert Dodge's late
+supporters asked that young man after the meeting had broken up.
+
+"We're going to have a boot-lick president," growled Bert.
+
+"Then there's a strong boot-lick sentiment in the class," returned
+the other cadet. "But I think Mr. Prescott is going to head a
+manlier lot than we were yesterday."
+
+When Anstey entered their room at barracks Dodge refused to
+notice him, or to answer a pleasant greeting.
+
+"I have been trying to forgive Dick Prescott for all of the past,"
+Cadet Dodge told himself darkly. "I wanted to start a new life, for
+both of us, here at West Point. But the fellow won't let me. He is
+always getting in my way. Oh, what a laugh there'll be in Gridley,
+among the mucker part of the population, when they find that I'm
+not class president, but that Dick Prescott is!"
+
+Even after he lay in bed, following taps, Bert Dodge could not
+sleep. He lay tossing restlessly, dark thoughts surging through his
+mind.
+
+"No place on earth seems large enough for Dick Prescott and me
+together!" muttered Dodge in the dark. "Dick Prescott, if I haven't
+lost my cunning you shan't be here much longer."
+
+But the forcing of Dick Prescott out of the West Point cadet corps
+was not easy to accomplish nor were ways of doing it to be come
+upon quickly.
+
+First, Mr. Dodge realized that he was falling behind in
+mathematics, and for weeks he had to give all his energy to
+keeping a place in the class.
+
+Finally January came and with it examinations. The plebe escapes
+written examinations if he has shown proficiency in the general
+review of the first half of the academic year. Dick and Greg got
+through without these "writs." Bert Dodge was compelled to face
+the written test in mathematics, but he made the grade and stayed
+on. He was gratified, for thirty-one of the plebes were dropped
+after this examination.
+
+"I've got to stay on," Bert Dodge had ground out between his teeth.
+"If I'm to be dropped from West Point, it must be after I've found a
+way to send Dick Prescott back to Gridley ahead of me!"
+
+Spring came, and still Bert's opportunity was lacking. He and Anstey
+greeted each other, but that was about all the communication the two
+held. Yet, one night, having noted the fact that for some time Dodge
+had seemed depressed, the Virginian asked:
+
+"What's wrong, Mr. Dodge? Anything in which another fellow
+can lend a hand?"
+
+"Nothing's wrong," replied Dodge shortly, and turned at once to his
+books. Still his gloom continued, and one evening not long after
+Anstey said to Dick and Greg:
+
+"That townsman of yours is so deep in gloom that it's like living in
+an unlighted cave to be in the same room with him. What's wrong,
+do you suppose?"
+
+"No telling," replied Dick. "Just disposition, I presume. He's no
+longer a townsman of ours, by the way."
+
+"Do you note really savage looks on his face?" put in Cadet
+Holmes.
+
+"Don't I, though!"
+
+"Then Bert Dodge has a mean streak on and is plotting mischief
+to some one!"
+
+"Is he underhanded and treacherous?" demanded Anstey quickly.
+
+Prescott hesitated a moment, then said:
+
+"Perhaps you'd better keep your eyes open. You're pretty close to
+him, and you don't want him to do anything to bring your record in
+question. Still, so far as any of us knows, he's been honorable and
+square here; so let's give the fellow his chance and say nothing to
+prejudice any one else."
+
+"You're right, Dick. Still, I wish something would pull the fellow
+out of his gloom. It spreads thick through the whole room."
+
+The truth was that because he could think of no feasible plan to
+drive Prescott from the Military Academy, Bert Dodge had
+become morose and irritable. But at last he thought he saw his
+chance.
+
+It was May when Greg Holmes received a telegram that an aunt of
+his of whom he had always been fond had died. Another telegram
+from Greg's father to Superintendent Martin asked that the boy be
+allowed to go home for the funeral. After an inquiry as to Greg's
+standing in class, Colonel Martin granted the permission, handing
+Holmes the money his father had telegraphed for the purpose.
+When Bert Dodge saw Greg leave the Academy his eyes lighted
+up.
+
+"Prescott will be alone in his room," he muttered in evil glee.
+"There'll be times when he'll be out; but I'll have to work quickly!"
+Then a gleam came into his eyes. "Prescott will be in Lieutenant
+Pierson's quarters talking over football plans to-morrow night.
+That's my chance!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX
+
+THE PROWLER IN QUARTERS
+
+
+At eleven o'clock the next morning Bert Dodge stepped up to
+another cadet known as the "sick-marcher." Together they went to
+the hospital where Dodge reported to the medical officer in charge.
+
+"What's the trouble, Mr. Dodge?" asked the surgeon, reaching for
+the plebe's pulse.
+
+"Chills, sir, mumbled the cadet.
+
+"Chills? Your pulse is a bit rapid, but not suspiciously so. Let me
+place this thermometer in your mouth."
+
+After two minutes Captain Goodwin removed the thermometer
+and held it up.
+
+"Normal," he observed, a bit puzzled. "Dead-beating," as it is
+called, or trying to get into the hospital when there is no need, is
+not unknown to the surgeons at the Military Academy. But when
+done, it is usually tried before a boy has been there a year. "How
+long have you felt this way?"
+
+"For about twenty-four hours, sir."
+
+"Perhaps I'd better mark you 'quarters' for twenty-four hours to
+come," said the surgeon, eyeing Dodge closely.
+
+Dodge squirmed. This was what he did not want. Being ordered to
+quarters would keep him in his room.
+
+"I've been fighting this off in my room, sir," replied Dodge
+haltingly. "I don't feel well, and I thought that a day or two here,
+resting in bed under a doctor's eye, might set me up."
+
+"Very well, Mr. Dodge. I don't think anything serious has assailed
+you, but we'll keep you under observation for a day or two."
+
+Captain Goodwin completed the record of the case, then pressed a
+button. A sergeant of the hospital corps entered.
+
+"Steward, Mr. Dodge is to be put to bed. Full hospital diet and rest.
+Further instructions will be given to you later."
+
+"Very good, sir."
+
+Dodge followed the sergeant to a bathroom, there to undress and
+bathe. When he had finished he was handed some pajamas.
+
+"Where is my regular clothing?" asked Dodge of the private who
+gave him the pajamas.
+
+"Sergeant Eberlee locked them up in a locker, sir, until you're
+discharged."
+
+Bert Dodge, in a furious temper, followed the private to the bed
+assigned to him. His clothing locked up! That clothing had figured
+largely in his plan in coming to the hospital.
+
+"Now I have played the fool!" thought the cadet. "I'd planned to get
+out on the sly tonight, while in here officially. Now I can't get out
+except in pajamas in which I'd be spotted before I'd gone ten feet!
+Hang the fool regulations of this hospital!"
+
+All day Dodge lay fuming. Lieutenant Doctor Herman visited him
+twice, still unwilling to say nothing was wrong. For one thing,
+Bert was so angry that he could not eat, and that in itself is unusual
+in a healthy cadet who lives a very strenuous life. Anger also gave
+him a flushed face and an exceptional look about the eyes. Yet,
+there was nothing apparent to make a physician believe there was
+anything serious the matter.
+
+Bert had the ward to himself, being the only patient in the
+building. It was eight o'clock when a man in the uniform of the
+hospital corps came in to turn the lights low.
+
+"Benton!" exclaimed Dodge. "What brings you here?"
+
+"Is that you, Mr. Dodge?" asked Private Benton, approaching Bert's
+bed. "I'm sorry to see you sick, sir."
+
+"I'm not sick, Benton. But, again, what are you doing here?" Benton
+was an enlisted man who, for pay, had been accustomed to serving
+Dodge more or less surreptitiously.
+
+"My enlistment ran out last week, sir. So I quit the cavalry to try a
+three-year term in the hospital corps."
+
+Here was Cadet Dodge's opportunity! He bribed Benton to bring
+him his clothes and to promise silence.
+
+"It would be time in a military prison for me if I told, sir; so you
+can be sure I'll keep still," was Benton's remark as he let the cadet
+out of a back door.
+
+As he went softly in through the east sally port, Dodge noted with
+joy that almost nobody was around.
+
+"I can get by without detection," he chuckled. He did get just
+inside the doorway of the subdivision in which Cadets Prescott and
+Holmes dwelt before he attracted attention. There he passed two
+yearlings.
+
+"Is that you, Mr. Dodge?" rather sharply demanded one of these
+yearlings.
+
+"No, sir," Dodge replied in a strained voice and sped on upstairs.
+
+"Queer," muttered one of the yearlings. "I was almost positive that
+was Mr. Dodge."
+
+Dodge was by this time in Dick Prescott's darkened room. He stole
+over to the fireplace where he worked quickly.
+
+"I've fixed your career here, Dick Prescott!" gloated the
+treacherous youth.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX
+
+CONCLUSION
+
+
+Dick Prescott and a dozen other plebes who had football
+hopes had a spent a delightful evening in Lieutenant Pierson's
+quarters. They left rather early, nevertheless.
+
+"Come to my room and talk things over, Anstey," urged Dick.
+"We've time before taps."
+
+Dick ran ahead to turn on the light while Anstey mounted the stairs
+slowly. As he entered the room, Prescott could see from the light
+that entered from the corridor some one crouched over by the
+fireplace.
+
+"Have I a visitor?" said Dick pleasantly. "Wait till I get a look at
+you."
+
+To have run from the room would have been a confession of guilt.
+Moreover, Dodge heard the mounting steps of Anstey outside. So
+he stayed while Dick turned on the light.
+
+"It's Dodge!" exclaimed Dick. "At last accounts you were in
+hospital. I'm glad you're better," the cadet went on coldly.
+
+"I slipped out of hospital," whispered Dodge. "Don't give me away,
+Prescott. I'd like to get back without being seen by any one else."
+
+"What's up?"
+
+"Don't keep me," said Bert nervously.
+
+"What were you doing in this room?" asked Dick, becoming
+suspicious.
+
+"I forgot that Holmes was away and came to see him."
+
+"When you found the room dark did you still think Greg was
+here?"
+
+"Don't keep me now. You don't want to see me skinned, do you?"
+
+"What were you doing by the fireplace?"
+
+"Why--why--"
+
+"Were you aware that in days past plebes who occupied this room
+had pried up two of the bricks from the base of the fireplace and
+had a hiding cubby there?"
+
+"Of course not! What do you take me for?" Anstey had come to the
+doorway, but stayed there, blocking the passage. Prescott stepped
+to the fireplace and stooped as though to look under the loose
+bricks. Dodge, in a panic, got there before him and pulled out
+some papers.
+
+"I was trying to play a prank on you and Holmes. As you've
+forestalled it, I don't think I'll let you know what it was," and
+Dodge struck a match and set the papers on fire, throwing them
+into the fireplace.
+
+"Perhaps you don't mind letting me enjoy your int'resting joke
+with you, Mr. Dodge," drawled Anstey, coming into the room.
+
+"It wouldn't interest you, Mr. Anstey. Its foundation lies in by-gone
+days back in Gridley," floundered Dodge.
+
+"At any rate, your fire has destroyed the--ah--joke. Will you
+assure me, Mr. Dodge, that the joke was only a good-natured one?"
+asked Dick Prescott, eyeing Dodge sternly.
+
+"I assure you of that on my honor as a cadet and a gentleman," said
+Dodge stiffly.
+
+"Very well then. And now good-night." The plebe who had just
+perjured himself turned from Prescott toward Anstey. He saw that
+the Virginian did not believe him.
+
+"Just a word, Mr. Dodge," put in Anstey. "As we are near the end of
+the barracks year I will not ask for a new roommate. But when we come
+back from the summer encampment I will see to it that my roommate
+is some one else."
+
+Bert Dodge paled, then flushed crimson. "Am I entitled to a reason
+for that, Anstey?"
+
+"Mister Anstey, if you please, now and always hereafter."
+
+"Certainly, Mr. Anstey. May I ask your reason for desiring a new
+roommate?"
+
+"I think I need not give my reason, Mr. Dodge," and Anstey turned
+his back.
+
+Bert Dodge got out of the room somehow and made his way back
+to the hospital ward through the back door. Dick Prescott never
+learned what the "joke" was. But Dodge, back in the hospital bed,
+muttered:
+
+"An anonymous letter to the superintendent of the K.C. would
+have fixed things and the papers would have been found! Queer
+that Dick Prescott always comes out on top."
+
+It occasionally happens that an unworthy cadet leaves West Point
+without charges against him having been heard and passed on by
+the authorities. Each class in the United States Military Academy
+is censor of the honor of its own members. Let a cadet be found
+out in a lie or other dishonorable act; and he is so avoided by his
+comrades that he is glad to leave the Academy. It was this power
+of his fellow cadets that made Dodge shiver as he lay sleepless in
+the hospital ward.
+
+Cadet Holmes returned to duty and was greeted hilariously by his
+many friends. He was even envied, in disregard of the sad event
+that had given him his leave.
+
+"You fellows make me tired," grumbled Greg. "My trip has
+convinced me that I'd sooner tote the water bucket at West Point
+than own a steam yacht and an automobile anywhere else."
+
+Greg's fellow plebes gave a yell of approval, and even some of the
+upper class men nodded approvingly, if somewhat haughtily.
+
+Hard work went on; for these were anxious days for the plebes.
+Would some of them be dropped at the end of this first year? No
+one felt certain of his merits, and all worked and studied to the
+exclusion of most other thoughts. But at last came the general
+review, then the information for which all waited was posted.
+
+"I'm satisfied," sighed Dick, after reading the lists.
+
+Greg's work, too, had been satisfactory, as had that of Anstey. Bert
+Dodge, also, had got creditably past the examiners. But eighteen of
+the plebes were dropped.
+
+All the first-class men passed. So now came joyous days for all the
+cadets except the lowly plebes, whose only participation in the gay
+times that take place at this season is to stand on one side and
+watch.
+
+But the night of the graduation hop came and went. The day
+following this was the graduation of the first class.
+
+On the evening of this day Anstey dropped in to see Dick and Greg
+in their room.
+
+"Hullo, old ramrod, and you, Holmesy! Are you pondering on the
+fact that you'll be an exalted yearling to-morrow?"
+
+"I don't believe the yearling himself feels exalted--it's only the plebe
+that puts him on a high seat. The yearling probably looks with
+longing to the next and the next and the next," laughed Greg.
+
+"Oh, I don't know. Not longing," put in Dick. "I should not want to
+stay here always, of course. One looks forward to shouldering real
+responsibilities. But I'm going to enjoy every year as I go along and
+not wish for the next and the next."
+
+"Just the same, the 'next' comes," replied Anstey as he said
+good-night and left the room.
+
+A little later a drum sounded at the inner entrance of the north
+sally port. The subdivision inspector was coming--had gone.
+
+"Greg," whispered Cadet Prescott.
+
+"Yes, old ramrod?"
+
+"To-morrow will be yearling camp for us!"
+
+What happened there and during the following year will be told in
+the next volume, entitled "DICK PRESCOTT'S SECOND YEAR
+AT WEST POINT, or, Finding the Glory of the Soldier's Life."
+
+THE END
+
+
+
+
+***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK DICK PRESCOTT'S FIRST YEAR
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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Dick Prescott's First Year at West Point
+by H. Irving Hancock
+
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+*****These eBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers!*****
+
+
+Title: Dick Prescott's First Year at West Point
+
+Author: H. Irving Hancock
+
+Release Date: September, 2004  [EBook #6426]
+[Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule]
+[This file was first posted on December 11, 2002]
+
+Edition: 10
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+Language: English
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+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK, DICK PRESCOTT'S FIRST YEAR AT WEST POINT ***
+
+
+
+
+
+Etext of Dick Prescott's First Year at West Point
+Or Two Chums in the Cadet Gray
+
+By H Irving Hancock
+
+The Saalfield Publishing Company
+Akron, Ohio New York
+Made in U. S. A.
+Copyright MCMX
+By The Saalfield Publishing Company
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+CHAPTER I.     "TWO TINY SPECKS OF NOTHING"
+CHAPTER II.    THE TYRANNY OF THE CADET CORPORAL
+CHAPTER III.   THE "LUCKY" ONES TAKE UP THE NEW LIFE
+CHAPTER IV.    GREG'S CASE OF "BLUES"
+CHAPTER V.     CANDIDATE DODGE IS CRITICAL
+CHAPTER VI.    IN THE HANDS OF THE YEARLING HAZERS
+CHAPTER VII.   A SUDDEN GRIND AT MATH
+CHAPTER VIII.  DICK BONES TROUBLE
+CHAPTER IX.    PLEBE PRESCOTT'S FIRST FIGHT
+CHAPTER X.     THE "BEAST" WHO SCORED
+CHAPTER XI.    HOW CADET DODGE HELD POST NUMBERTHREE
+CHAPTER XII.   PRESCOTT GETS NUMBER THREE
+CHAPTER XIII.  THE SENTRY MAKES A CAPTURE
+CHAPTER XIV.   POOR GREG CAN'T EXPLAIN
+CHAPTER XV.    GREG OVERHEARS A PRETTY GIRL'S TRIBUTE
+CHAPTER XVI.   TAPS SOUND ON SUMMER
+CHAPTER XVII.  MR. DODGE GOES CANVASSING
+CHAPTER XVIII. THE PLEBE CLASS CHOOSES ITS PRESIDENT
+CHAPTER XIX.   THE PROWLER IN QUARTERS
+CHAPTER XX.    CONCLUSION
+
+DICK PRESCOTT'S FIRST YEAR AT WEST POINT
+
+CHAPTER I  "TWO TINY SPECKS OF OF NOTHING"
+
+"HOW do you feel, Dick! As spruce as you did an hour ago!"
+
+Candidate Greg Holmes put the question with a half-nervous
+laugh. He spoke in a whisper, too, as if to keep his agitation from
+reaching the notice of any of the score or more of other young men
+in the room of Mr. Ward, the aged notary at West Point.
+
+"I'll be glad when I see some daylight through the proceedings,"
+Dick Prescott whispered in answer.
+
+"I'm glad they allow us to talk here in undertones," pursued Greg.
+
+"If we weren't allowed to do so, some of us would go suddenly
+crazy, utter a whoop and spring through one of the windows,"
+grinned Dick.
+
+For the tenth time he thrust his hands into his pockets-then as
+quickly drew them out again.
+
+All of the young men now gathered in the room were candidates for
+cadetships at West Point; candidates who had been appointed by the
+Congressmen or Senators of their home districts or states, and who
+must now pass satisfactory physical and mental examinations, after
+which they would be enrolled as cadets in the United States Military
+Academy. Those of the cadets who thus passed the preliminary
+examinations, and who maintained good health and good standing in
+their classes during the following four years and three months would
+then be graduated from the Military Academy and forthwith be appointed
+second lieutenants in the Regular Army of the United States.
+
+Hived in this room, awaiting their turn, a spirit of awe had gripped
+all these nervous young men.
+
+Some of them dreaded a failure in the coming bodily tests before
+the keen-eyed, impartial surgeons of the United States Army.
+
+Probably half of the boys in the room feared that they would fail in
+the academic exam inations.
+
+Boys? Some of the candidates didn't look the part. They had the
+physiques and general appearance, many of them, of men; for a
+candidate may be anywhere between the ages of seventeen and
+twenty-two years of age.
+
+From all over the country they came. When the new, or plebe class
+should finally be assembled and put to work, that class would
+represent practically every state in the Union.
+
+Readers of a former series of books, "THE HIGH SCHOOL BOYS
+SERIES," will not need to again be introduced to Dick Prescott
+and Greg Holmes. Such readers will well remember these two
+manly young Americans as members of that famous sextette,
+"Dick & Co.," famous in the annals of the good old Gridley High
+School.
+
+Nor will such readers need to be told how Dick won, over the
+heads of forty competitors, the nomination of Congressman
+Spokes, the boy carrying all before him in a rigid competitive
+examination at the Gridley High School. The same readers will
+remember how Greg Holmes secured his own nomination from
+Senator Frayne. This was all related in the closing volume of the
+High School Series, "THE HIGH SCHOOL CAPTAIN OF THE TEAM."
+
+Our former readers will also recall that Dave Darrin and Dan
+Daizell "ran away" with the nominations for cadetships at
+Annapolis, while Tom Reade and Harry Hazelton, the last of
+famous Dick & Co., went West seeking their careers as young
+engineers.
+
+To be a cadet at West Point, and then to blossom out as an officer
+in the Regular Army-this had long been Dick's fondest hope. Greg,
+too, had caught the Army fever, and now suffered from it as
+severely as Dick Prescott himself.
+
+And now, at what seemed like the critical moment, this tedious
+waiting was almost maddening.
+
+Before Mr. Ward's desk stood a lonely looking young man, red
+faced and fidgeting as though he were going through a fearful
+ordeal.
+
+"What on earth can they be doing to that fellow?" wondered Greg,
+in a barely audible undertone. "That fine-looking old gentleman
+can't be hazing a cadet?"
+
+"No; but I wonder what the ordeal is," Dick whispered back. "I
+haven't seen a fellow look. comfortable through it yet."
+
+"Mr. Prescott!"
+
+Dick started to his feet so suddenly that his right almost tripped
+over his left.
+
+One of the other candidates near by tittered. That caused Dick's
+face to turn redder than ever.
+
+Mr. Ward, however, looked up at the boy with a kindly smile.
+
+"State your full name, Mr. Prescott."
+
+Dick did so.
+
+"When and where born?  Give date and place."
+
+By this time Dick was beginning to find his voice. The excess of
+color began to recede from his face. He. had already, almost
+unconsciously, passed over the sealed envelope which he had
+received from the adjutant in a room on the same floor at
+headquarters.
+
+Prescott was quickly breathing at his ease. He discovered that the
+entire ordeal consisted of giving his family history, with dates.
+
+Then he stepped back. Another name was called.
+
+"Don't let that rattle you a bit, Greg," whispered Dick, when he had
+dropped back into his seat beside his chum. "Mr. Ward doesn't do
+anything but take your pedigree."
+
+"Mr. Holmes!"
+
+Greg got up with nearly all of his self-possession about him. He
+was just returning to sit by his chum when the nattiest, sprucest-
+looking soldier imaginable, wearing the olive-drab fatigue uniform
+of the Army and overcoat to match, stepped into the room.
+
+"The surgeons have directed me to bring down all the candidates
+who are through here," the orderly announced. "Follow me to the
+sidewalk, where you will fall in loosely, by twos, and follow me to
+the cadet hospital."
+
+Among those of the candidates who had finshed giving their
+pedigrees there was a rush that would put a spectator in mind
+almost of a football scrimmage. It represented merely the feverish
+anxiety of these young men to get through with the next stage in
+their awe-filled day.
+
+"There are some marching down with us who won't be marching
+with us to the next place, I am afraid," whispered Holmes.
+
+"I imagine so," whispered Dick, with a nod.
+
+"Say," murmured Greg, his cheek suddenly blanching, "just how
+much chest expansion do the surgeons demand in the case of a
+fellow standing five-seven in his stocking feet?"
+
+There was a note almost of panic in Greg's voice.
+
+"Cheer up, Greg!" urged Dick, whose own lace was again flushing.
+"You've got chest expansion enough for a heavy-weight prize
+fighter."
+
+"You must have the same, then.  Is that so?" demanded Holmes.
+"What makes your face so red?"
+
+"Just wondering," admitted Prescott, in a low voice, "whether I
+ever contracted any symptoms of football-player's heart."
+
+"Bosh!" muttered Greg. "I never heard of any such disease."
+
+"I never did either," Dick fidgeted. "But in the hour I've been at
+West Point I've concluded that people here know a heap of things
+that aren't even guessed at in the outside world."
+
+"O-o-o-h! Say! Look!" murmured Greg in deep awe and admiring
+wonder. "They must be cadets!"
+
+Eight, young men in gray, marshaled by a section marcher, went
+swinging up the road with a marching rhythm so. perfect that it
+was like music.
+
+Each of these young men was clad in flawless gray, with black
+stripes and facings.  Each young man wore his cadet fatigue cap at
+an exact angle. The long, caped gray overcoats looked as though
+they had been melted to the forms of their wearers.
+
+No wonder Greg Holmes gave that involuntary gasp. He was
+having his first view of a small squad of real cadets.
+
+Some of the candidates on the other sidewalk so far forgot
+themselves as to halt and all but stare at the natty young marching
+men opposite.
+
+Then, all in an instant, the section marcher and his section had
+gone by.
+
+"Don't anyone halt, please," cautioned the soldier orderly. "Keep
+your places in the line, young gentlemen, and keep moving right
+along."
+
+So they reached the cadet hospital. The orderly marched them into
+a spacious, almost bare room on the ground floor and announced:
+
+"I will report to the surge on. Young gentlemen, wait until you are
+called."
+
+"I wish I could carry myself and step the way that fellow does,"
+whispered Dick, his admiring gaze following the retreating
+orderly.
+
+"Well, that's what we've come here to learn," replied Greg. "That
+is, if we get by the doctors-and then the beastly academic grind."
+
+Now, to keep his mind occupied, Dick Prescott fell to observing,
+covertly, the other candidates.
+
+These were of all sorts and sizes. They represented all parts of the
+United States and every walk in social life. Out of the group were
+two or three who, judging by their clothing, might have been sons
+of washerwomen. There were other youngsters whose general
+appearance and bearing seemed to proclaim that they came from
+homes of wealth.  But the majority of the young men appeared to
+have come from the same walk in life as did Dick and Greg.
+
+Our two young friends were by no means the most smartly nor the
+most correctly attired young men there. On their way to New York
+Prescott and Holmes had discovered, by taking mental notes of the
+other male passengers on the train, that these two Gridley boys had
+missed something from the most correct styles then prevailing in
+the larger cities.
+
+Dick and Greg were both solidly and substantially attired, yet there
+was an indefinable something about them which proclaimed them
+to be young men from one of the smaller cities of the United
+States.
+
+"I can see those medical big-wigs pawing me over now," shivered
+Greg. "I suppose, at a place as wonderful and as learned as West
+Point, the doctors are all fussy old men, with their gold-rimmed
+spectacles and shiny frock coats."
+
+"Wait and see," advised Dick, trying to get a grip on himself to
+control his nervousness.
+
+Another door opened, to admit a dandified and very smart-looking
+young officer, apparently about twenty-five years of age.
+
+'You're all ready, young gentlemen?" he asked smilingly.
+
+"We're waiting for the doctor," replied Greg, who was close to the
+door by which the officer had entered.
+
+"I am one of the surgeons," replied the young officer pleasantly.
+
+"Gee whiz!" remarked one raw-boned youth, in what was meant to
+be a confidential whisper, but which rose to a pitch that carried it
+around the room. "Say, he doesn't look much like our old
+saw-bones doe down home way!"
+
+The surgeon was followed by a smart-looking soldier of the
+hospital corps, who started to close the shades of the room.
+
+"You have all been to the treasurer's office and deposited your
+funds?" asked the young surgeon, turning again. This time his
+question appeared to be addressed to Dick more particularly than
+to anyone else.
+
+"Why, no, sir," Prescott replied. "I have all my money in my pocket
+yet."
+
+"Orderly!" spoke the surgeon to his own man of the hospital corps,
+who wheeled, brought his heels together and stood at attention.
+"Bring in that orderly who conducted the young gentle-men here."
+
+"Yes, sir," replied the hospital orderly, wheeling about and
+vanishing from the room. He was back again in a moment with the
+soldier who had brought in this batch of candidates without
+interviewing the treasurer.
+
+"Orderly," spoke the surgeon, "you have overlooked one part of
+your instructions. You did not take these candidates to the
+treasurer 'a office."
+
+"No, sir."
+
+"Do so now. Then conduct the candidates back here."
+
+"Very good, sir."
+
+Signing to the candidates to rise and follow him outside, the
+orderly himself led the way.
+
+"Say, that was neatly done. No calling the man down; no bluster,"
+whispered Greg as the candidates again walked along the
+sidewalk.
+
+"It's the Army way, I take it," murmured Dick.
+
+This time the orderly marched his awkward squad straight to the
+cadet store and into the treasurer's office.
+
+"O-o-o-h !" groaned Greg in an undertone.
+
+"What's the matter?" demanded Dick in a cautious whisper.
+
+"This delay and killing suspense before we get before the doctors.
+I'll bet my fever has gone up above one hundred and three
+degrees!"
+
+"Form in line, and each one of you turn in all his money," directed
+the treasurer crisply.
+
+Each candidate was required to deposit with the treasurer the sum
+of one hundred dollars. In the event that the candidate "passed"
+successfully to enrollment in the cadet corps, then this money was
+to be applied to the purchase of things necessary for the new cadet
+to have. In case the candidate did not pass he would receive his
+hundred dollars back again-enough, in almost any case, to take the
+young man safely back to his home.
+
+The first three men to step before the treasurer each turned in a
+few dollars in excess of the hundred.
+
+Each was handed the treasurer's receipt for the exact amount that
+he deposited.
+
+Then came a rather dazzlingly attired young man of at least
+twenty-one. He had watched the others and now, with an air of
+some importance, drew out a roll of considerable size. He
+detached two fifty-dollar bills and handed them to the treasurer,
+with the query:
+
+"A century covers the deposit, doesn't it?"
+
+Though the treasurer frowned slightly at the slang use of "century,"
+he replied briskly:
+
+"You must deposit all the money you have, Mr. Geroldstone."
+
+"But that doesn't seem like a square deal," protested young
+Geroldstone. "I'll need some money for personal expenses, some
+for little dinners, something to spend on the young"
+
+"You'll need no money here, Mr. Geroldstone. Cadets are allowed
+no spending money outside of the so-called confectionery
+allowance, and that is charged to you from your pay."
+
+"But I'm a big candy eater," urged Geroldstone, with a grin.
+
+"No argument, if you please, sir!" rapped the treasurer rather
+sharply. "Turn over all your money and remember that you are on
+honor in the matter."
+
+Mr. Geroldstone received a receipt for nine hundred and sixty-two
+dollars, plus a few small coins. As he turned away he muttered to
+one of his predecessors:
+
+"Say, ain't that a good deal like a hold up?"
+
+"Remember, young gentlemen, all the money you have,"
+admonished the treasurer, as the line started to move again.
+
+Thus commanded, the candidates went through all their pockets
+while standing awaiting their own turns.
+
+Dick and Greg had so well calculated their traveling expenses that
+each turned in about twenty dollars above the required one
+hundred dollars.
+
+This little transaction completed, the orderly turned and marched
+them back at once to the hospital.
+
+By this time some of the candidates had sufficiently overcome
+their nervousness to realize how raw and chilly this first day of
+March was. All of the candidates wore overcoats, though the outer
+garments worn by some of the young men, especially those who
+had journeyed hither from Southern States, were not of a weight to
+meet the March demands at hilly West Point, which lies exposed
+to the icy northern blasts down the Hudson River.
+
+It looked as though it might snow at any moment. There was "ice
+in the air," as Greg Holmes expressed it.
+
+So it was a welcome relief to all of the young candidates to find
+themselves once more inside the hospital building.
+
+They were taken into the same room. During their absence the
+hospital corps orderly had distributed blankets, one on each chair.
+
+"Each of you will please strip now," announced the same young
+medical officer, coming briskly into the room. "Strip as quickly as
+you can. Each man take a blanket and wrap it around himself
+while waiting."
+
+Some of the young men looked startled, but all obeyed. In this
+stripping, and in the varied degrees of orderliness with which the
+different stacks of discarded clothing were piled it was rather easy
+to pick out the young men who had previously undressed in the
+dressing quarters of schools or colleges where athletics are a big
+feature.
+
+"If we had a few tom-tom players we'd be ready with a fine
+imitation of an Indian war dance," muttered one of the candidates,
+gazing about him at his blanketed companions. There was a laugh,
+of course. These highly nervous youngsters were ready to laugh
+at anything just now.
+
+"Is Mr. Geroldstone ready ?" asked the hospital orderly,
+marching into the room.
+
+"I will be, in five minutes or so," replied Geroldstone, slowly
+pulling his shirt off over his head.
+
+"Mr. Danvers, then," called the orderly, consulting a slip of paper
+in his right hand.
+
+Candidate Frank Danvers, a good-looking young man,
+self-contained, slight of build, not very tall, but very black as to
+hair, stepped forward.
+
+"In here, sir," requested the hospital orderly, holding open the door.
+After Danvers had gone the other young men held their breath for
+a few moments-all except Geroldstone, who was still leisurely
+disrobing.
+
+Back came Danvers after a few moments. Every candidate in the
+room looked at him inquiringly.
+
+"Yes, gentlemen; I'm very happy to say that I passed," nodded
+Danvers, as he sprang across the room and began to don his
+clothes once niore.
+
+"Mr. Geroldstone!" called the orderly, and the big candidate went
+in.
+
+An anxious twenty minutes passed-anxious alike for Geroldstone
+and for those who still dangled on tenterhooks in the outer room.
+
+At last the candidate under fire came out, a sickly grin on his face.
+Though the others looked at him curiously, not a word did
+Geroldstone offer.
+
+"The big fellow has failed; I'll bet," muttered Greg Holmes. "I'm
+sorry for him, poor fellow."
+
+Still another candidate was now undergoing the ordeal inside.
+When he came out, nodding contentedly, the summons sounded:
+
+"Mr. Prescott!"
+
+"Brace up, Dick! You're all right," whispered Greg, with an
+affectionate pat on the shoulder as young Prescott rose, and,
+wrapping the blanket nervously around him, went through the
+doorway.
+
+The same young medical officer, Lieutenant Herman, was in the
+other room. With him was an older medical officer, Captain
+Goodwin.
+
+"Drop your blanket on that chair," nodded Lieutenant Herman.
+"Now, step over to the scales."
+
+Dick's weight, stripped, was taken, as well as his height. These
+points Lieutenant Herman jotted down as Captain Goodwin called
+them off.
+
+"Now, let me listen to your heart," directed the senior medical
+officer, picking up a stethoscope from his desk. The heart beat and
+sounds were examined from several points.
+
+"Come here, Mr. Prescott," directed Captain Goodwin, opening
+another door and revealing a flight of stairs. "Run up these stairs
+and back, as fast as you can."
+
+As Dick halted, after that feat, his heart action was again
+examined, this time by both surgeons. After that his lungs were
+examined. Then he was directed to lie on a table, while the areas
+over his other organs were thumped and listened to. Then the
+candidate was examined for deformities. He was ordered to march
+around the room, to run, to jump over a low stool, and perform
+other antics.
+
+Then the two surgeons conferred briefly at the desk.
+
+"You'll do, Mr. Prescott," announced Captain Goodwin.
+
+"Thank you, sir, stammered Dick, the flush of happiness coming to
+his cheeks.
+
+"You've taken part in school athletics, haven't you?" asked
+Lieutenant Herman.
+
+"Yes, sir; captain of our football team last fall."
+
+"You look it," nodded Lieutenant Herman pleasantly. "Take your
+blanket, Mr. Prescott. Orderly, call the next man."
+
+As Dick strode back where he had left the others he heard the
+orderly call:
+
+"Mr. Holmes."
+
+"Go to it, old man. There's nothing to be afraid of," whispered
+Dick Prescott.
+
+"They got through with you in mighty quick time," smiled one of
+the other candidates.
+
+"Did they?" laughed Prescott. "It seemed to me as though the
+surgeons started yesterday and finished to-morrow."
+
+Mr. Geroldstone had finished dressing and sat by, a sulky look on
+his face. He wanted to go back to cadet store, get his money and
+leave West Point instantly. But the orderly had told him he would
+have to. wait until a report had been made out to the adjutant.
+
+To Dick the minutes dragged until Greg Holmes appeared again.
+Truth to tell, Greg was much afraid that he had a slight trouble
+with his heart, and that this difficulty would hinder his passing.
+Dick, who was aware of his chum's dread, was anxious for
+Holmes. As soon as he had finished dressing he found himself
+pacing the floor.
+
+It was quite a while ere Greg came out, but his quiet, happy smile
+told the story.
+
+"Did they ask you questions about your heart?" asked Prescott in
+an undertone.
+
+"Yes," admitted Greg, while he dropped his blanket and began
+hastily pulling on his clothes.
+
+"You told the truth, didn't you ?"
+
+"Of course, I did," flushed Greg. "If I hadn't told the truth I
+wouldn't be fit to be an Army officer. But Captain Goodwin
+laughed at me."
+
+"Then he didn't find anything much wrong with your heart!"
+
+"He said he guessed I had had some discomfort at times, but that,
+if I would eat more slowly, and chew my food better, my stomach
+would get a rest and stop shoving my heart."
+
+"Oh! Is that all that has been ailing you?" smiled Dick.
+
+"According to Captain Goodwin it's enough. He says my trouble
+started only recently, and that I can be over the last sign of it in
+three days if I'll take up with decent eating habits. But he has
+known boys he has had to reject because they had been at bad
+eating tricks for a longer time. You can bet I'm going to follow the
+surgeon's advice after this."
+
+Four out of this squad of candidates were rejected by the
+examining surgeons. Geroldstone remained sulky, with an air of
+bravado; the other three young men were so downcast that all their
+companions were heartily sorry for them. The hospital orderly
+marched back to the adjutant's office those who had been rejected,
+while another orderly appeared and led those who had passed the
+surgeons to the cadet barracks.
+
+"This begins to look like the real thing," murmured Dick as they
+neared the barracks.
+
+Now this group were taken to the room of the cadet officer of the
+day, Lieutenant Edwards. Beside the cadet lieutenant's desk stood
+Cadet Corporal Brayton.
+
+To the cadet officer of the day each of the candidates gave his
+name and home address, which were entered in a book.
+
+"Brayton, take Prescott and Holmes to room number -, will you?"
+asked Mr. Edwards with-out looking up.
+
+Dick and Greg followed their conductor out-side and into another
+subdivision of barracks. Mr. Brayton kept on until he had reached
+the top flight, where he threw open a door.
+
+"Step in here, Mr. Prescott and Mr. Holmes," ordered the cadet
+corporal stiffly. To the two new arrivals the corporal spoke as
+though he had conceived an intense dislike for these two boys.
+Later, Dick and Greg discovered that it was merely the way in
+which all candidates were treated by the cadet officers.
+
+"You'll draw your bedding and other things presently," said
+Brayton coldly. "In the mean-time you will remain here until you
+are ordered out. When you hear the order for candidates to turn
+out, obey without an instant's delay."
+
+With that the corporal was gone, leaving the chums to gaze
+wonderingly about their new quarters.
+
+Luxury? Not a bit of it. The room was severely plain. At one end
+was a double alcove, separated by a wall. In each alcove stood a
+bare-looking iron bedstead.  There were two washbowls, two
+chairs and two desks that looked as though they had served the
+needs of generations of cadets. There was a window that looked
+out on the quadrangular area of barracks.
+
+"Well, we're actually here, anyway," breathed Dick, his eyes
+sparkling.  "We're living in cadet barracks, and we're halfway
+through the ordeal of becoming new cadets at the wonderful old
+United States Military Academy!"
+
+CHAPTER II. THE TYRANNY OP THE CADET CORPORAL
+
+D IC K hung up his coat and hat, and Greg did the same, for the
+heat was turned on and the room wholly comfortable as to
+temperature.
+
+"I've heard," murmured Greg, "that fellows usually get most
+woefully homesick at West Point."
+
+"Then they've no business to come here," retorted Prescott, with
+spirit. "Such tender ones won't make soldiers anyway."
+
+"I suppose we shall be awfully looked down on at first," mused
+Greg aloud.
+
+"Well, we can stand it," laughed Dick. "If we can't, we can't endure
+lots more of things that are ahead of us."
+
+"Just now I could endure a good, filling meal," sighed Holmes
+comically.
+
+"Yes?" laughed Prescott. "Then just press the button and the waiter
+will bring us the bill of fare. I understand that candidates are
+allowed to have their meals served in rooms. Although I believe
+it's forbidden for any candidate, or cadet, either, to eat his
+breakfast in bed."
+
+"Quit your 'kidding,'" begged Greg.
+
+"I don't know that the authorities will bother to feed us, anyway,
+until we've passed and it's known that we are going to stay and be
+cadets," laughed young Prescott, feeling around his belt-line, for
+he, too, was hungry.
+
+"Candidates turn out promptly!" rang, from below, a voice full of
+military command.
+
+Greg was in the middle of a comforting yawn and stretch. He
+dallied to finish it, but Dick, snatching down his overcoat and hat,
+was already out on the landing and racing below, while behind him
+floated the advice:
+
+"Come on, Greg! Get a boost on!"
+
+"Get along there, beasts," commanded a cadet corporal in the
+lower hallway sternly. "This is no sleeping match!"
+
+Out in the yard several candidates had already run. Some of these
+young men at home, had been accustomed to being waited on by
+mothers and sisters. Yet here, in the seemingly freezing and hostile
+air of the Military Academy, these same young men were fast
+learning that everything has to be done by one's self, and at
+steam-engine speed.
+
+"Mr. Danvers, come with me, and I'll place you as right guide,"
+called Cadet Brayton with the air and tone of a budding military
+martinet.
+
+Candidate Danvers followed meekly. Brayton looked at the lad's
+stooping shoulders with frigid, utter disapproval.
+
+"Mr. Danvers, take your hands out of your pockets, sir."
+
+"All right," laughed Mr. Danvers, obeying, and trying to laugh
+nonchalantly. "Anything to please."
+
+"Don't address a superior officer, sir, unless he addresses you in a
+way to make a reply necessary. And when you do address a
+Superior officer, or any other cadet or candidate on official
+business always add 'sir.'"
+
+Danvers nodded, but the nod Cadet Corporal Brayton ignored by
+turning on his heel and stepping, with a magnificently military air
+and carriage, over to another luckless candidate.
+
+When ordered, the candidate fell in next to Mr. Danvers. Then the
+other anxious youngsters fell into line.
+
+"Candidates turn out promptly!" sounded snappily in another part
+of barracks.
+
+Another lot of  newcomers began to tumble downstairs and out of
+doors with feverish haste, to be confronted by another cadet
+corporal who awaited them.
+
+"Never mind that other squad!" admonished Cadet Corporal
+Brayton sharply. "Favor me with your whole attention. Now, then,
+listen, and do each thing as I tell you. Button your jackets and
+overcoats all the way down! Stand erect, with your heels together,
+and your toes pointing out at an angle of sixty degrees. Stand erect.
+Throw your shoulders back, your chests out and hold your heads
+up. This is called 'the position of the soldier.' Stand as I do."
+
+Corporal Brayton favored his awkward squad with a profile view
+of himself, as he took the exact position of a soldier. How the
+anxious candidates wished they really could stand as this
+handsome young son of Mars did! To them it seemed impossible
+ever to acquire such truly military carriage. They did not realize
+that, between drills, gymnasium work and the setting-up drills,
+they would, in a few weeks, be hard to distinguish in elegance and
+perfection from their present instructor.
+
+"Not quite so much like an ostrich, Mr. Prescott!" rasped out
+Corporal Brayton severely.
+
+Dick flushed painfully, all the more so because he heard one of the
+other candidates snicker.
+
+"Stop that laughing, Mr. Danvers!" cornmanded Corporal Brayton.
+
+Greg, in trying to get the right position, had so exaggerated it that
+now he found himself trembling from the strain of trying to
+maintain that position.
+
+"What ails you, Mr. Holmes!" demanded Brayton, with withering
+scorn.
+
+"I-I was trying to get the right position, sir," stammered Greg,
+reddening.
+
+"That isn't the position of even a respectable dromedary, Mr.
+Holmes," rejoined the cadet corporal crisply.
+
+Then he poured a storm of refined abuse upon Greg. It wasn't
+intended entirely for Greg, but for the benefit of all the awkwardly
+standing green candidates. Not a word in Brayton's remarks went
+beyond the limits of strict military propriety, yet every word cut.
+
+"My, but I'd like to fall out and give this fellow a licking!"
+muttered Greg to himself.
+
+"Mr. Holmes," observed Cadet Corporal Brayton dryly, "clenched
+fists do not go with the position of the soldier.  Let your hands fall
+naturally at your sides, each little finger resting against the seam of
+the trousers, or where you judge the seam to be."
+
+Again the blood shot up to the roots of Greg's hair, suffusing his
+face. But Mr. Brayton had already turned to another candidate
+whom he found in a ludicrously bad position. After some minutes
+of this attempt to instruct the candidates in the seemingly simple
+matter of standing correctly, Brayton gave the welcome order to
+rest.
+
+By this time four other awkward squads were at the same work.
+
+"I wish we had our uniforms," whispered Greg. "I'd feel better."
+
+"I am glad I haven't a uniform yet," returned Dick in an equally
+low voice. "I realize how like a fool I'd look in it when I don't even
+know how to stand, let alone attempting to walk in a uniform. Just
+look at the magnificent carriage of the man that's drilling us!"
+
+"I'd like to hammer him until he needed a carriage to get anywhere
+in," muttered Greg vengefully. "That corporal is a brute, without a
+vestige of good breeding."
+
+"Then, for a fellow without breeding, he certainly carries himself
+like a king," retorted Dick. "At least, I don't believe any European
+prince has half as fine a carriage as Mr. Bray-ton."
+
+"I wonder if they're all as bad as this corporal," demanded Greg.
+"Brayton is a tyrant in gray."
+
+"Greg! Greg! Get a brace on yourself, old fellow," whispered Dick
+warningly. "This is only the morning of the first day, and we have
+before us months-years-of taking our medicine. Don't lose the gait
+even before you've got it. We came here to take our medicine and
+learn to be soldiers, didn't we?"
+
+"Squad, attenition!" rasped out Corporal Brayton, wheeling and
+once more favoring his own green lot with his whole regard.
+
+Repeatedly he showed these new men how to stand, how to hold
+themselves and how to do it without appearing ridiculous.  So
+crisp, so rapping and even decorously abusive was Mr. Brayton
+that the boys under his command at this moment would have
+gasped had they been told that Brayton was considered one of the
+easiest and best-natured of the cadet corporals. Brayton had his
+work to do-that was all. It was part of his own training to learn
+how to whip an awkward squad into time in the shortest possible
+order.
+
+By-and-by all these anxious, even trembling, candidates were
+instructed in the mystery of marching a few steps at command,
+how to keep their alignment on the right guide, how to halt, the
+facings and all that.
+
+"Now, we'll pass on to learning to count fours, and how to march
+off in column of fours," announced Brayton. "Squad halt!" he
+commanded hoarsely, in disgust, ere the young men had taken four
+steps. "Listen to me more attentively, and try more closely to
+follow orders !" glared the young corporal.
+
+After that it seemed as though Cadet Corporal Brayton could have
+no other aim in life than to drive his squad of candidates away
+from West Point. At almost every move through the drill he
+berated them caustically, though in such faultless miltary language
+of reproof as to keep him from censure.
+
+"Dismissed," glared Brayton at last. "The candidates will go to
+their rooms until summoned again."
+
+Dick and Greg both felt stiff in the legs. Their backs ached from
+the long-continued drilling in what was yet, to them, the rigor of
+near-military carriage. Both chums toiled up the stairs to their bare
+room.
+
+"Ob, you brute!" muttered Greg, standing in the middle of the
+room and shaking his fist in the direction of the area.
+
+"Meaning-whom?" queried Prescott, with a wan smile.
+
+"Whom could I mean but Brayton?" almost hissed young Holmes.
+"Why does that fellow hate us all so?"
+
+"I'll tell you a secret, if you want to hear it," proposed Dick
+mysteriously.
+
+"Please!"' begged Candidate Holmes.
+
+"Then I don't believe he does hate us."
+
+"'What?" gasped Greg incredulously.
+
+"I don't believe he'd remember half our faces if he passed the
+members of his squad in' the area right now," declared Dick.
+
+"Then why does he persecute us so?" demanded Greg indignantly.
+
+"I don't believe it is persecution," Dick continued.
+
+"Then why, in the name of all that's kindly, does that fellow put us
+under the heel of hateful usage? Why must we submit to the
+tyranny of that cadet corporal?"
+
+"It's the West Point way-that's all, I guess."
+
+"Do you propose to submit to it?" challenged Greg.
+
+"Yes," retorted Dick soberly.  "I don't want to have to leave the
+Academy and go home stamped a failure.'"
+
+"Neither do I," admitted Candidate Holmes in a more moderate
+tone.  "But I wonder whether we have to stand so much nonsense
+from a petty young official like a mere corporal?"
+
+"I'm afraid we do," nodded Dick. "Now, see here, Greg, can't you
+make a good guess as to why we're put through such a grilling?"
+
+"I'll confess I can't see any human reason m it," declared Candidate
+Holmes.
+
+"Why, what did we come here to learn to be?"
+
+"Soldiers."
+
+"Are we soldiers yet!"
+
+"Of course not," Greg admitted.
+
+"Do you think these people at West Point have time to coax and
+pamper us along!"
+
+"Probably not. But can't they-or can't that fellow Brayton-be decent
+with us?"
+
+"Now, look right here," counseled Candidate, Prescott wisely. "We
+want to be soldiers, but as yet we're only ignorant, unregenerate,
+untaught young cubs. To the older cadets we must seem like pitiful
+beasts."
+
+"No, we don't,"' sneered Candidate Holmes. "We don't seem
+anything at all. No cadet here, unless he's obliged to notice us,
+even looks at us. We're less than nothing."
+
+"That's true," nodded Dick thoughtfully. "And I'll wager it will be
+pretty nearly as bad all the time we're plebes. Now brace up, Greg.
+Remember what a small fraction of nothing you are, and be
+thankful for the severe handling by Brayton, which may eventually
+transform us into at least pretty fair imitations of soldiers."
+
+Outside a drum was sounding. It was mess call, but neither
+candidate knew it. Almost immediately, however, Brayton's
+rousing voice rang up through the subdivision:
+
+"Candidates turn out promptly!"
+
+"There's our slave-driver once more," frowned Candidate Holmes.
+
+Dick, as he raced down the stairs, remembered to button his coat
+down its entire length. Greg forgot. As he darted through the
+door-way to the porch overlooking the area he found Corporal
+Brayton's gaze fastened upon him in severe displeasure.
+
+"Mr. Holmes, button your coat, sir!"
+
+Reddening and frowning, too, it must be admitted, Greg obeyed.
+
+"All candidates will pass quickly through the north sally port and
+make formation," continued the cadet corporal.
+
+Here the entire uniformed cadet corps was forming, facing the
+plain. At the extreme left of the line a cadet lieutenant, two
+sergeants and four cadet corporals busied themselves with forming
+the candidates and alternates in line. When the word was given the
+cadet corps wheeled to the right and marched off in column of
+fours, quite a splendid model of military precision.
+
+Somehow the un-uniformed greenhorns managed to turn into
+column of fours, though some of the bewildered boys forgot to
+which four they belonged and there was some confusion.
+
+Behind the superb cadet corps, toiled along these all but hopeless
+candidates and alternates, scores and scores of them-every fellow
+of them feeling more awkward than his nearest neighbors in the
+line. Badly out of step was this green material.  Some of the boys
+slouched as they walked along; others shuffled.  Their appearance
+was enough to dishearten a trained soldier.
+
+But at last all these green ones were marshaled to seats in the great
+dining hall at cadet mess. There, in a fine dinner, they forgot,
+momentarily, many of the discouragements of the forenoon.
+
+In the afternoon came a lot more of drilling of awkward squads by
+other cadet corporals. Greg soon found, under the tender mercies
+of another corporal, why Brayton was considered "easy."
+
+These cadet corporals are all members of the yearling class, the
+class directly above the plebes. As corporals these members of the
+yearling class get their first direct experience in military
+command.
+
+Later in the afternoon all candidates were notified that academic
+examinations would begin at eight o'clock the next morning in the
+Academic Building.
+
+And now the candidates began to shiver! "Bad" as the start had
+been, they hoped, to a man, that they would pass these academic
+examinations. To fail meant to return home, the dream of being a
+cadet shattered!
+
+"Ugh!" muttered Greg, rubbing his hands in quarters. "Br-r-r! Dick,
+I'm afraid I'm scared cold!"
+
+Prescott smiled, but he, too, was worried over the coming
+mysteries of the academic examinations, which he had heard were
+uncommonly.
+
+CHAPTER III THE "LUCKY" ONES TAKE UP THE NEW LIFE
+
+CANDIDATE PRESCOTT did not take the best examination by
+any means, but he got through without discredit in any branch.
+
+A number of these candidates had spent the last year or so at some
+"prep." school that made a specialty of preparing young men for
+West Point and Annapolis.
+
+Greg did fairly in English, quite well in history, geography and
+arithmetic; in algebra, through sheer nervousness, young Holmes
+barely escaped going short.
+
+Nearly twoscore of the candidates failed utterly. These went
+sorrowing home, giving their alternates a chance to enter the corps
+in their places.
+
+Soon after the results had been declared, the young men who had
+passed went over to headquarters. There they signed a statement to
+the effect that they entered the Military Academy with the consent
+of their parents or guardians, and bound themselves to serve in the
+Army at least eight years, unless sooner discharged. These new
+young men were then formally and impressively sworn into the
+service of their country. They were now cadets, even if only new
+plebes.
+
+Why "new" plebes! Because, under the new system, with
+candidates admitted in March, there is still a "plebe" class above
+them who remain plebes until commencement in June. Hence the
+distinction between old and new "plebes."
+
+In the presence of all plebes the yearlings and other upper class
+men keep themselves loftily apart, except when compelled to drill
+the plebes or perform other military or other official duties with
+plebes.
+
+The plebe, old or new, is still but a "beast"-a being unfitted for
+intimate contact with upper class men. The plebe is not an outcast.
+He is merely fifteen months on probation with his upper class
+comrades. Unhappy as the lot of the freshman is at some of our
+colleges, the plebe at West Point is of far less importance in the
+eyes of the upper classes.
+
+Early every morning cadet corporals marched squads of new
+plebes out into the open and put them through the mysteries of the
+Army "setting-up" drills. These drills are effective in giving the
+new man, in an almost marvelously short time, the correct military
+carriage and physical deportment. Between these and the squad,
+platoon and company drills, it is truly wonderful how rapidly the
+new cadet begins to drop his former awkwardness.
+
+The new plebes had now drawn their uniforms and rapidly learned
+the care of these parts of the soldier's wardrobe. They were also
+taught the proper occasions for wearing each article of uniform.
+
+Academic studies had now begun in earnest too. The idea in requiring
+cadets to begin in March instead of in June, as formerly, is that they
+may have three months in which to become accustomed to the fearfully
+exacting requirements of study and recitation in force at West Point.
+
+It was a proud day for all these new plebes when they "drew" their
+rifles and bayonets and began the laborious study of the manual of
+arms.
+
+One after another, as fast as they were sufficiently proficient, the
+new plebes were sent into one of the companies into which the
+Corps of Cadets is divided.
+
+Cadet Prescott entered D Company four days before Greg Holmes
+was assigned to the same company. Dick's success indeed spurred
+Greg on to new efforts, although poor young Holmes had felt that
+he was working as hard already as human flesh could endure.
+
+Early in April nearly all of the new plebes had joined their
+companies. It was a wholly new, revolutionized life.
+
+Many of the new plebes had come from homes of luxury, where
+servants had abounded.
+
+But here at West Point former social lines had no significance,
+unless it was to invite trouble down upon the head of any new
+cadet who felt inclined to be priggish.
+
+No cadet had a servant, nor could he engage anyone to perform
+any of his own duties for him.
+
+Each cadet in the entire corps rose at the tap of a drum-"
+reveille"-at 5.45 A. M.
+
+At the first sound of reveille every young man sprang from his bed.
+Then followed hasty but orderly dressing and the making of the
+toilet. The cadet must be spick and span.
+
+Incidentally, but promptly, he fell to policing. The room must be in
+order, and the bed made up exactly in accordance with the
+regulations on the subject. All clothing must be hung as prescribed
+in the regulations. A match end or a scrap of paper on the floor
+brought reprimand and demerits.
+
+"Policing" is the orderly care of quarters. At 6.20 police call
+sounded on the drum outside in the area. Then came a swift but
+all-seeing inspection of every occupied room in barracks.
+
+Swiftly, indeed, was this done, for at 6.30 the tap of the drum
+sounded mess call for breakfast. The cadet corps formed outside
+the north sally port and marched to breakfast.
+
+About seven o'clock breakfast ended. The corps marched back to
+barracks and was dismissed.
+
+By 7.15 every young man was hard at work, "boning" hard over the
+studies in which he must recite during the forenoon. He "boned"
+until 7.55. Then, in his own appropriate section, he marched off to
+the Academic Building, remaining in the section room, under the
+instruction or quizzing of some officer of the Army until 9.20.
+
+Now the new plebe, like the cadets of all classes, marched back to
+his room. At his desk he studied until summoned at 10.55 for the
+second recitation of the day, in some other subject.
+
+At 12.10 he was dismissed from this second period of recitation,
+but 12.20 found the young man in dinner formation. From this
+mid-day meal the cadet reached barracks at 1.10. Now he had
+some time with which to do as he pleased; to be exact, he had
+fifteen minutes. At 1.25 the freshman marched off to recitation in
+English, history or French. At 2.30 the cadet found himself back in
+his room, forced to study, as few young men ever study in civil
+life, until 3.30.
+
+From 3.30 to 6.25 P. M. the plebe was allowed to do as he pleased
+with his time, provided that in so doing he broke none of the
+regulations. He might amuse himself in various ways. He was at
+liberty to go over to the library, to read, for instance; he might call
+at officers' houses on the post on Saturday or Sunday afternoon if
+invited; he was at liberty to take a walk-within cadet limits. Or, if
+he felt the need of some-thing really "wild" in the way of
+diversion, the lucky plebe was permitted to go over to the
+Academic Building and examine the mineralogical or geological
+collection!
+
+As a matter of fact, the plebe who in most instances was doing
+badly with the great amount of study and recitation required of
+him, was likely to spend most of his afternoon leisure in "boning"
+the studies in which he was deficient or which he found difficult to
+master.
+
+At 6.25 came the call for supper formation. That meal was through
+at about seven in the evening. Then came study time, lasting until
+9.30 in the evening. At 9.30 the plebe was at liberty to turn down
+his mattress and go to bed, if he felt tired enough; if not, he was at
+liberty to study a little longer.
+
+At 10.30, however, taps sounded on a drum just inside the north
+sally port. Now Mr. Plebe was obliged to turn out his light,
+instanter, and be in bed against the visit of the subdivision
+inspector, an upper class cadet, immediately afterward. If Mr.
+Plebe failed to be in bed he was reported-"skinned"- and punished
+accordingly.
+
+In between there were always the drills, the gymnasium work,
+inspections, guard mount for each plebe about once a week after
+he had been admitted to the ranks of the battalion.
+
+To the boy fresh from home it is a fearfully hard lot at first. That it
+can be lived through and endured, however, is proved by the fact
+that about six out of ten of the cadets who enter at West Point
+manage to graduate, and go forth into the Army, splendid
+specimens of physical and mental manhood. Very few of the
+cadets who fail at West Point and are dropped go away from the
+Military Academy without a mist before their eyes.
+
+The plebes at West Point are not ostracized by the upper class
+men. These new men are merely "kept in their places" with great
+severity, and without any encouragement whatever. If the plebe
+can't stand it, then he is plainly not of the stuff to make a soldier. If
+he does stand it, he goes on into the upper classes, one after
+another, graduates and is commissioned by the President as a
+second lieutenant in the United States Army.
+
+It is a hard ordeal, that fellowship of "nothingness" during the first
+portion of the West Point course.
+
+Homesickness is the worst ailment of the new cadet. Day by day
+he grows more homesick until it seems to him that he simply
+cannot endure the Military Academy for another twenty-four
+hours.
+
+One afternoon, while taking a walk as a relief from too hard
+application to his mathematics, Cadet Dick Prescott stumbled
+upon some news that made him open his eyes very wide.
+
+"Well, of all things!" he growled to himself.
+
+Then he walked faster.
+
+"Greg must hear of this," muttered the new plebe.
+
+Going down the street at military stride, Cadet Prescott turned in at
+the north sally port, stepped briskly along one of the walks,
+bounded up the steps and in at the outer door of the subdivision in
+which he dwelt.
+
+Up the stairs with considerable speed went Cadet Prescott, still
+revolving in his mind the news upon which he had stumbled.
+
+"What on earth will Greg think?" throbbed the new plebe.
+
+In a very short time Prescott's hurrying feet carried him to the door
+of his room on the top floor. The door yielded as Dick put his hand
+to the knob.
+
+"Greg, what do you thinki" whispered Dick breathlessly, as he
+went quickly into the room and toward his roommate, who sat bent
+over his study table.
+
+The very attitude was unmilitary-a fact that struck Prescott
+suddenly.
+
+Then Greg, hearing his roommate's voice, raised his head
+somewhat and wheeled about in his chair.
+
+What a woebegone face Cadet Gregory Holmes presented!
+
+"Greg, what on earth is the matter 7" demanded Dick, halting short
+and staring hard.
+
+"I can't help it," replied Greg miserably, shaking his head.
+
+"Can't help what?" demanded Dick thunder-struck.
+
+"I can't help what I've gone and done. I had to do it !" cried Greg,
+with sudden fierceness in his tone.
+
+"What you've done?" echoed Dick. "Well, what have you gone and
+done, anyway, old fellow? Does it stop anywhere short of
+murder-or lying?"
+
+For in the West Point code of honor lying ranks very nearly as bad
+as murder.
+
+"I guess perhaps it isn't quite as bad as either," smiled Greg wanly.
+"However, I couldn't help doing it."
+
+He rose to his feet, a bit unsteadily, leaning one hand on his study
+desk.
+
+Greg's hair was a bit awry, as though he had run his hands many
+times through it in some mood of desperation. This, in itself, was
+in defiance of West Point traditions for the personal neatness of
+the cadet.
+
+"You still have me altogether in the dark, Greg," murmured Dick
+wonderingly.
+
+"You'll lose all respect for me, Dick," went on Greg miserably.
+
+"Then it must be something awfully bad that you've done," retorted
+Dick, opening his eyes wider than ever.
+
+Without another word Greg reached to his desk, picked up a sheet
+of paper and in silence passed it over to his comrade.
+
+Dick read with a gathering of his eyebrows. Then gradually a look
+of anger shot into his clear eyes.
+
+"Greg Holmes," uttered the other cadet indignantly, "you're a
+disgrace to your native town of Gridley!"
+
+"Well, what are you going to do about it!" demanded Greg almost
+defiantly.
+
+"Do?" retorted Cadet Prescott. "I believe I'll thrash you-just for
+being a disgrace to our native place!"
+
+Not intending anything of the sort, but merely as a dramatic.
+expression of his rage, Dick doubled one fist, advancing upon
+Holmes.
+
+At that instant the door was flung open. Cadet Lieutenant Edwards,
+of the first class, strode into the room.
+
+Instantly both cadets straightened, where they were, standing at
+"attention," as required to do when a superior officer entered their
+quarters.
+
+"What is this?" demanded Cadet Lieutenant Edwards, though
+betraying no more than official curiosity in his tone. "Have I
+entered just in time to prevent a fight!"
+
+"No, sir," replied Cadet Prescott.
+
+"Then what!"
+
+"Sir," responded Cadet Prescott, "I wish to report my roommate,
+Mr. Holmes, for writing this letter!"
+
+Dick held out the sheet of paper, whieh the cadet lieutenant
+scanned earnestly.
+
+CHAPTER IV. GREG'S CASE OF "BLUES"
+
+ONLY a moment did Mr. Edwards need for the reading of Greg's
+note. Then the cadet lieutenant frowned at Dick.
+
+"Mr. Prescott, what do you mean by perpetrating a poor-spirited
+joke under the guise of making an official communication?"
+
+In an instant Dick saw clearly that be had made a military mistake.
+
+"I beg your pardon, sir," he said meekly. "This may all be a joke to
+you, Mr. Prescott," went on the cadet officer dryly, "but I presume
+it is none whatever to Mr. Holmes."
+
+As he hadn't been addressed, Greg did not venture to answer. He
+stood rigidly at attention, though both he and Dick were flushing.
+
+The paper that Mr. Edwards now held in his hand read as follows:
+
+"To THE SUPERINTENDENT,"
+
+"THE UNITED STATES MILITARY ACADEMY."
+
+"Sir: I have the honor herewith to tender my resignation as a cadet in
+the United States Miltary Academy, the same to take effect
+immediately. I have the honor to be, sir,"
+
+"Very respectfully,"
+
+"GREGORY HOLMES."
+
+"So that's the way you feel about it, is it, Mr. Holmes 7"
+questioned the cadet lieutenant, after a second glance at the
+paper.
+
+"Yes, sir," replied Greg.
+
+"This is the fourth letter of the kind that I've seen this week,"
+continued Mr. Edwards stiffly, though a curious smile played
+about the corners of his mouth. "I presume that two or three dozen,
+at least, of the same sort have been written by the new plebes. Mr.
+Holmes, do you know what was done with the other letters of
+resignation that I saw ?"
+
+"No, sir."
+
+"Their writers tore them up," went on the cadet lieutenant stiffly.
+"Now, Mr. Holmes, if you persist in believing that you want to send
+this letter in to the superintendent, then I think it will be the best
+thing you can do; for if you still persist in wanting to resign, then
+you haven't manhood enough, anyway, to make a fit brother-in-arms for
+the comrades in your class."
+
+This was severely said. Greg paled under the verbal thrashing.
+
+"If you really wish to send in this letter," continued Mr. Edwards,
+"you have a perfect right to do it, Mr. Holmes."
+
+"May I speak, sir?" asked Greg when the cadet lieutenant ceased
+talking, but remained looking fixedly at the new plebe.
+
+"Proceed," replied Mr. Edwards.
+
+"May I have that letter, sir?"
+
+The cadet lieutenant handed it back without a word.
+
+"May I-may I-"
+
+"Out with it, Mr. Holmes."
+
+"May I handle this letter at once in the way that I now wish, sir?"
+
+"You may."
+
+Greg, his face again flushing painfully, tore the sheet into small
+bits, turning and tossing them into his waste basket.  Then he again
+wheeled, standing at attention.
+
+"Stand at ease, mister," ordered Mr. Ed-wards, dropping out of his
+official tone and manner. "Now, mister, will it do you any good if I
+explain a few little things about life here at West Point"'
+
+"I shall be very glad, indeed, sir, if you will be good enough,"
+replied Greg rather shamefacedly.
+
+"In the first place, mister," went on the cadet lieutenant, sitting,
+now, with one leg thrown over the corner of Greg's desk, "the
+homesickness that has hit you touches every other man who comes
+here. It's a mighty hard-working life here, and I'll admit, mister,
+that it's very cheerless during the plebe year.
+
+"You think you are looked down upon, and regarded as being
+beneath contempt, mister. That sort of treatment for a plebe is
+believed to be necessary here. Grant got it; so did Sherman; so did
+Sheridan.  George Washington would have been treated in just the
+same manner had there been a West Point for him to go to.
+
+"It isn't because of what we upper class men think of you. It's
+because of what we're waiting to find out. I don't know anything
+about your connections in your home town. You may have been a
+great fellow there. You may, for all I know, have had a borne of
+wealth, luxury and refinement. Your father may be a man of great
+importance m the nation. I don't know anything about that, and I
+don't care about it, either, mister. From the moment you start in at
+West Point, you start your life all over again, and you stand on
+nothing but your own merits. We don't know how much merit you
+have, and we shan't know until you've gone through with your
+plebe year and have proved whether you're a man or not. If we
+find, a year from this coming summer, that you're a man, we'll
+welcome you into the heartiest comradeship of all the corps.
+Mister, I've said a lot more to you than most upper class men
+would waste the time. to say. Choose your own course, and prove
+where you stand."
+
+Then Cadet. Lieutenant Edwards turned around to Cadet Prescott
+with a look that made that Gridley boy feel rather uncomfortable.
+
+"As for you, mister, never again, while you're a plebe, be so b. j.
+(fresh) as to try a joke with an upper class man. If there's one thing,
+mister, that gets a plebe into three times as much trouble as any
+other thing, then it's  b. j.-ety!" (freshness).
+
+Of a sudden the cadet lieutenant returned to his feet, resuming all
+the dignified demeanor. of the cadet officer on duty.
+
+Instantly Dick and Greg stood once more at "attention" until Mr.
+Edwards had turned on his heel and left the room.
+
+"Hm!" murmured Dick, as they heard the lieutenant's retreating
+footsteps. "We've both had a jolly good lesson."
+
+"You didn't do much," muttered Greg shamefacedly. "I wouldn't
+feel so bad about a call down over a bit of ordinary b. j.-ety. I was
+scorched and withered for being a cold-foot and a quitter-and I
+deserve it all, and more!"
+
+"I'm glad you see that, old Gridley!" murmured Cadet Dick
+heartily. "Now, Greg, you won't write another letter of resignation,
+will you?"
+
+"Not if I die of homesickness and melancholy !'.' muttered Greg,
+clenching his hands.
+
+"Now, after letting you in for an awful verbal flogging," smiled
+Dick curiously, "I'll let you into a secret. I wrote a letter of
+resignation, too."
+
+"When?" gasped Cadet Holmes amazed.
+
+''Two days ago," confessed Dick. ''I read it through six times before
+sending it to the superintendent."
+
+"You didn't-send it to the superintendent?" gasped Greg.
+
+"No; because I also tore it to fine bits before sending it to
+headquarters-and so the letter never reached the one to whom it
+was addressed," laughed Cadet Prescott. "Now, look here, Greg.
+Admit that you were a prize simpleton, just as I was. Let's start
+anew-with a bang-up motto. This is it: 'A Gridley boy may die, but
+resign-never!'"
+
+Dick struck such a dramatic attitude that both poor young plebes
+began to laugh heartily.
+
+"Oh, and now for the news that brought me back here hotfoot," ran
+on Prescott glibly. "Greg, you never could guess who's here at
+West Point."
+
+"The President, or the Chief of the General Staff?" asked Holmes
+slowly.
+
+"Oh, pshaw, no!  They don't either one amount to as much as the
+fellow I'm talking about thinks he amounts to."
+
+"Whom did our Senators appoint to the Academy?" asked Prescott
+after a pause.
+
+"Me," admitted Greg, again turning red.
+
+"Well, whom did the other Senator appoint!"
+
+"A fellow named Spooner, who came here and 'fessed out' cold
+(failed badly) on the academic exam," Greg responded.
+
+"Who was Spooner's alternate!" persisted Dick.
+
+"I don't believe I remember," Greg replied slowly.
+
+"No; and that was because neither you nor I ever knew. Spooner's
+alternate was-Bert Dodge!"
+
+"What? Bert Dodge, of Gridley ?" demanded Cadet Holmes
+astonished.
+
+"That very chap," Prescott admitted. "When Spooner went home,
+after 'fessing out' here, Bert Dodge, who hadn't appeared, was
+ordered by wire to report at once, or have his name stricken out.
+Bert's physician wired the War Department that the young fellow
+was ill, though the illness would not delay him more than a few
+days. So Bert was given a brief grace. Well, sir, I've just learned
+that Dodge reported at the adjutant's office' this morning. He got
+by the surgeons bounding, and to-morrow he sits down at his
+'writs.' (written examinations) in the Academic Building."
+
+"I wonder if that fellow will pass," cried Greg wonderingly.
+
+"Oh, I rather think he'll make it easily," replied Dick, seating
+himself at his own desk. "Bert wasn't a fool at his studies. He spent
+more than three years at Gridley High School, and since then has
+had a school year and a half at one of the finest prep., schools in
+the country.  Oh, I guess he'll get through all right."
+
+"So we've got to have him here for a comrade !" sighed Greg
+disgustedly, as he picked up his text-book on English.
+
+CHAPTER V. CANDIDATE DODGE IS CRITICAL
+
+BOTH cadets had studied for ten minutes perhaps, when a knock
+sounded at their door.
+
+The very unusualness of this caused both youngsters to look
+around, then at each other.
+
+Had it been any cadet officer making an inspection-as w  likely to
+happen at any minute of the waking day-he would have come
+straight into the room. And any other cadet, after knocking, would
+have followed this by opening the door and stepping inside.
+
+Rap-rap! sounded again.
+
+"Oh, come in," called Dick.
+
+The door opened. Bert Dodge, dressed in the height of the
+prevailing fashion, looked inside.
+
+"May I come in?" he called, in what was meant for a cordial,
+friend-from-home voice.
+
+"Oh, yes, come in," sighed Dick wearily.
+
+"That's not quite the welcome I might have expected from you
+two," muttered Bert, as he opened. the door and stepped into the
+room. "Fellows, you're at West Point. now," proceeded Bert Dodge
+pompously, "and this is a place where social points count
+tremendously, as I guess you've found out by this time.  Now, you
+two may be all right, and I guess you are," admitted Bert
+condescendingly, "but you're just the sons of commoners, while my
+father is a wealthy man, a banker and a leader in society. So I
+guess you can quickly understand that I'm going to cut a good deal
+wider swath here than you two fellows put together."
+
+Greg Holmes, who had been following Dodge with a gradually
+widening grin of amazement, now burst into a hearty laugh.
+
+"Well, what's so awfully funny!" demanded Bert.
+
+"You-you-social swell!" exploded Greg hilariously. "Oh-wow!"
+
+"Oh, enjoy yourself in your own way," retorted Bert in decided
+anger, "but you'll soon find out."
+
+Then looking about the room, he remarked, going on a new tack:
+
+"I must say, you fellows are rather badly provided for showing the
+social courtesies here. You haven't even a chair for a guest."
+
+"Plebes are allowed only two chairs to a room," remarked Dick,
+rising and pulling forward his own chair. "Take mine. I'll sit on the
+corner of my table."
+
+"There's just one chair in my room," continued Bert, as he seated
+himself. "That's one reason I want to see the janitor, or steward, or
+whoever the fellow is. I'm going to tell him to put in a decent
+allowance of chairs."
+
+Greg Holmes went off into another fit of laughter.
+
+"Janitor?  Steward?" sputtered Holmes. "Whew! That's great!"
+
+"There are no such servants here, Dodge," Dick explained. "In fact,
+every cadet has to learn to wait on himself in nearly everything. A
+plebe, too, has to learn to be content with whatever he has given
+him. If he even makes any talk about it he is called b. j. A cadet
+who is found guilty of b. j.-ety has to put in all his spare time
+learning to walk on one ear."
+
+"Do you mean to say you've been made to swallow stuff like that?"
+demanded Dodge, looking at Prescott in tall disdain. "Oh, well,
+you may be inclined to submit to such treatment, but I know who
+I'm, and I'm not going to stand for any nonsense here. What's the
+matter with you, Holmes? Are you ill?"
+
+For Greg's face, in his efforts to stifle his mirth, had become
+violently purple.
+
+"I don't suppose you'll take advice, Dodge," continued Dick. "If I
+thought you ouly could do it I'd advise you to walk mighty slowly
+here, keep your lips together and not say a word until you've
+learned a lot."
+
+Dick had risen and was standing, unconsciously, in an attitude that
+showed off, in his natty cadet uniform, all the strength and grace of
+his fine and now well set-up young figure. But Bert, with a desire
+to put this other fellow "back where he belonged," remarked
+casually:
+
+"Prescott, I don't just like the fit of your coat. Who's your tailor I I
+want to get a different one. I'm going in for some of the
+swellest-fitting uniforms that any tailor around here can turn out."
+
+Greg, who had managed to breathe naturally for the last minute,
+now struggled with another of his purple-faced paroxysms.
+
+"I didn't think to ask who my tailor was," Prescott replied quickly.
+"In fact, I don't think I would have been told if I had asked. You
+see, every cadet here has to take just what clothes are issued to him
+at the cadet store. That's the rule for all cadets here."
+
+"Do you mean to tell me that I've got to wear 'hand-me-downs' I"
+demanded Bert Dodge angrily. "Save that sort of stuff for fellows
+who'll believe it."
+
+It was plain that, if Bert Dodge had dropped in with any intention
+of being neighborly and from-home, he had rapidly forgotten his
+plan.
+
+Neither Dick nor Greg had any reason for being fond of the fellow,
+even if he had once been a schoolmate at Gridley High School.  Bert,
+son of Theodore Dodge, a Gridley banker, was an unpardonable
+snob. Readers of the High School Boys Series will recall how Bert had
+been one of the leaders in the "sorehead" secession from the football
+ranks at Gridley High School. That movement failing in its purpose,
+Bert had afterwards provoked Dick Prescott into striking him, and had
+then had Dick arrested for assault. The suit had failed, and Bert was
+rebuked by the court.  Much more of the feud that young Dodge had
+attempted to wage upon Prescott and his High School chums was fully
+narrated in "THE HIGH SCHOOL LEFT END."
+
+It was nearly a year since Bert had seen either of these chums. That
+he had entered their room in cadet barracks full of the purpose of
+impressing them with his new importance was at once plain.
+
+Dick was just beginning to find the atmosphere oppressive when
+the door was pushed quickly open after the faintest suggestion of a
+knock.
+
+The newcomers were Cadets Pratt and Judson of the yearling class,
+known already among the plebes as two of the worst hazers.
+
+"Attention!" hissed Pratt, as he strode into the room.
+
+Neither of the visitors being a cadet officer, Dick and Greg were
+not obliged to stand at attention.
+
+However, neither new plebe was foolish enough to argue the
+matter. Dick and Greg took the pose ordered and at once..
+
+"Mister," demanded Pratt, turning upon Dick, "what is this cit.
+(citizen) doing in barracks?"
+
+"Mr. Dodge is a candidate, sir, quartered in this building, and he
+took it into his head to visit us."
+
+"What are you doing on that chair, Candy?" demanded Judson,
+flashing an angry look at Bert.
+
+"None of your business!" retorted Dodge. "You'll stand at
+attention!" retorted Cadet Judson, gripping Bert by the collar and
+pulling him to his feet.
+
+"That'll be about enough, Jud," warned Cadet Pratt in a low voice.
+"Remember, the fellow is nothing but a candidate."
+
+"You fellows seem to think you're mighty important," sputtered
+Bert. "I'm not in the habit of associating with hoodlums!"
+
+"Now, if that isn't the b. j.-est sunflower that ever grew in a
+farmyard," remarked Cadet Pratt, with a wink at Cadet Judson.
+
+"If you're referring to me be a bit more careful in your witticisms,"
+warned Dodge stiffly, "or I shall demand satisfaction."
+
+"Oh, you're rather certain to get all the sat. you want, I imagine
+when you're a cadet," retorted Cadet Pratt dryly. "But, Jud, our
+time is fairly running away from us, and we have yet other social
+calls to make. Our respectful farewells, misters."
+
+Turning, straight and stiff as ramrods, Cadets Pratt and Judson
+marched from the room.
+
+When their step was heard on the stairway Greg stepped over and
+closed the door.
+
+"Well, you fellows are the meekest green apples that I ever saw,"
+laughed Dodge scorn-fully.  "You simply lay down and allowed
+those two military bullies to walk over you just as they chose.  Do
+you expect to get through West Point like men, if you have no
+more self-pride than that?"
+
+"I'm heartily glad you've joined us here, Dodge," murmured Greg
+artlessly.  "You'll show us, by your own example, just how to stand
+up for our rights."
+
+"Humph! I hope you'll be able to learn," grunted Bert, rising as he
+glanced at his watch.
+
+Then he went on, a trace more amiably:
+
+"I find I've got to go back to my room and prepare for supper.
+Now, fellows, we haven't always gotten along in the best shape at
+home."
+
+"But here at West Point I suppose we all start life on somewhat of a
+new footing. I'm willing to let by-gones be by-gones if you don't
+presume altogether too much on coming from the same home
+town. Keep your places with me, and we'll try to go along on a
+somewhat pleasanter basis than in the past. Let us try to forget the
+past. Ta-ta, fellows. See you at the supper table."
+
+Bert stalked out loftily, with a considerable apprecation of his
+condescension toward two fellows whom he had been wont, in
+past years, to call muckers.
+
+"Hold me!" begged Greg hoarsely. "I'm going to have a fit. Oh,
+wow! Dick, just think of that poor b. j. lamb falling into the hands
+of the yearlings! What'll they ever do with him?"
+
+"Greg, it has been hard enough on us to get used to the new ways
+at West Point. But we'll never mind anything during the rest of our
+plebedom. No matter what happens to us we'll just remember how
+much more is bound to happen to pompous old Dodge."
+
+Dick returned to his table, picking up his text-book on French.
+Greg honestly fried to study, but every other minute he simply had
+to stop to laugh at the thought of Bert and his pompous ways.
+
+Finally, when he could restrain himself no longer, Greg broke
+forth:
+
+"Dick, old ramrod, no matter what happens to me, now I can stand
+it by thinking of Bert Dodge being here!"
+
+"I hope he doesn't start his old tactics of making trouble," muttered
+Cadet Prescott.
+
+"If he does, he'll have most of the trouble in his own possession,"
+grinned Greg. "West Point is a place where manliness has the only
+real show."
+
+"Yes, but a sneak can make an awful lot of trouble," sighed Dick.
+"Not that I mean to call Dodge a sneak, though. I am in hopes that
+he'll prove anything but that. From the minute that a fellow enters
+the Military Academy he starts in life all over again. So,
+remember, Greg, we won't be prepared to hate or distrust Dodge,
+and we'll lose a. hand before we'll utter a word against him, based
+on anything that happened in the past."
+
+"That's the square deal, and the West Point ideal," nodded Greg,
+who was rapidly forgetting the letter, the fragments of which were
+now in his waste basket. "Who knows but that, in this new
+atmosphere, Bert Dodge may turn out to be a man? West Point will
+do that very thing for him, if any new surroundings can."
+
+As the battalion marched to supper that night Bert Dodge felt in
+his heart that hazing must already have started for him; for, being
+the only candidate left at West Point, and having no uniform as
+yet, Dodge was compelled to march, in his rather gay "cit." attire,
+at the extreme end of the battalion line.
+
+Bert did not march quite alone, however.
+
+Just behind him, majestic, unbending, lynx-eyed and exacting,
+marched Cadet Corporal Spurlock, who was known as the "worst"
+(strictest) of the Yearling cadet officers.
+
+"Chest out, Mr. Dodge! Don't wobble so at the knees, sir!  Can't
+you carry yourself straight? Take your chin away from your
+chest, Mr. Dodge. Try to keep step, sir. Follow my count-hep! hep!
+hep! hep!  Mr. Dodge, you're out of step! When I call 'hep' put your
+left foot down, sir! But don't keep it down, sir!" added the
+exasperated cadet corporal in a furious undertone, as Bert came to
+a dead halt. "Mr. Dodge, try to exhibit some thing close to
+intelligence. Now, again, sir! Hep! hep! hep! hep!"
+
+An Army officer stationed at the post drove by on a springboard.
+Three young women were with him. They saw and partly understood. The
+peal of laughter that floated back from them brought a flush to the
+face of the green, pestered candidate.
+
+CHAPTER VI  IN THE HANDS OF THE YEARLING HAZERS
+
+UNDER the hard grilling of cadet corporal Spurlock, Bert Dodge
+actually made a lot of progress within the next few days.
+
+Dodge learned that, whenever addressing an officer, whether that
+officer were a cadet officer, or one of the Regular Army officers
+stationed at the Academy as instructors, he must add "sir" to every
+communication. He also learned that he must not address any
+superior officer unless first addressed by him.
+
+Bert also picked up rapidly the knowledge that he was no better
+than anyone else, and of not a thousandth part of the importance of
+any upper class man.
+
+Much of this the young man picked up from his new roommate,
+Tom Anstey, a soft-eyed, soft-voiced, helpful and sunny young
+man from Virginia.  Anstey was one of the best-liked men in his
+class, but the new plebes at first held almost aloof from Dodge.
+
+"Whatever you do," urged Anstey, "don't make the mistake of
+trying to cultivate the acquaintance of any of the upper class men."
+
+"I've encountered two already," muttered Bert.
+
+"Oh!" and Anstey smiled wonderingly.
+
+"Pratt and Judson, of the yearlings," Dodge continued, then related
+what had happened in the room of Cadets Prescott and Holmes.
+
+"I guess you're going to be in for it, presently, Dodge," nodded
+Cadet Anstey. "Mr. Pratt and Mr. Judson are known as two
+terrors."
+
+"They don't want to try to pass any of their terror on to me,"
+growled Bert.
+
+Whereupon Mr. Anstey took his roommate in hand, gently and
+genially, and tried to make that new cadet-for Bert had passed his
+academic exams. without even a hint of trouble understand how
+worse than foolish it would be to attempt to antagonize the upper
+class men.
+
+"You come from the same place that Prescott and Holmes do, don't
+you?" asked Anstey, one afternoon, as the roommates rested from
+study.
+
+"I'm glad to say I don't," replied Bert, almost brusquely.
+
+"Oh!" nodded Anstey.
+
+"I suppose we've got to be comrades, now, but I don't like that pair
+an over-lot," Bert explained.
+
+"Odd! Most of the new plebes like Prescott and Holmes all the way
+up, and then all the way down - again," murmured Anstey
+seriously. "For myself, I don't know any two fellows in the new lot
+that I like better."
+
+"Oh, I guess they're all right in a good many ways," admitted Bert
+slowly. "Qnly we never managed to hitch-that's all. You asked me
+if I came from the same place. I used to live in Gridley, but I-
+er-well, I went away to Fordham to another school. My father had
+a summer place in Fordham, and he took uphis voting residence in
+Fordham, though spending a good part of his winters in Gridley.
+That's how I'm credited to Fordham, not Gridley."
+
+"Thank you for telling me," nodded Anstey. "I had just been
+wondering if it wero not crowding things a bit to send three young
+men all from Gridley."
+
+"I'm not only not from Gridley, but I came in as an alternate,
+anyway."
+
+"How are you getting on with Corporal Spurlock?" asked Anstey.
+
+"That fellow?  Oh, hang him!  Spurlock drives me wild. I came
+within a hair's breadth of applying to the commandant of cadets for
+a new instructor in drill. Only you told me that no heed would be
+paid to such a request from a new plebe."
+
+"I should rather say not," grinned Anstey.. "However, you'll be
+through the prelim. grind soon, and then you'll be admitted to a
+company in the battalion."
+
+"I'm fitted for it now," growled Bert.
+
+"You won't get into a company, though, until Corporal Spurlock
+reports you as fitted."
+
+"That fellow is the most rascally tyrant I ever saw anywhere,"
+growled Bert, picking up a text-book on mathematics.
+
+By this time the season of outdoor drills and daily dress parade had
+arrived. This particular afternoon, however, in the latter part of
+March, a heavy, blinding snowstorm had come along.  Cadets were
+nearly all in barracks, therefore, and those who had the most need
+were studying hard.
+
+"I've boned math., boned French, boned English," mntteied Anstey,
+at last. "Now, I think I'll go over and bone Prescott and Holmes.
+Feel like going along with me!"
+
+Bert frowned somewhat. He didn't care to "approve" of the two
+Gridley boys too much. But it was so deadly dull in this room that
+Dodge didn't care to be left alone, either.
+
+"Oh, I'll go," nodded Dodge, closing a book with a snap and rising.
+"But I'd like it even better if you had some one else in mind to
+visit."
+
+"You see," almost apologized Anstey, "I want to see Prescott and
+Holmes particularly because I've been talking over football with
+them, and they've been telling me a lot about their high school
+eleven that was right smart and interesting."
+
+Bert said no more. If his ancient foes were going to tell Anstey
+about the old football days back in Gridley, then Bert feared they
+might be tempted to tell a lot that would bring up his unpopular
+share in those spirited old days.
+
+"But Prescott and his shadow won't dare to say anything against me
+if I'm sitting right there in the room," muttered Bert to himself.
+
+So he and Anstey presented themselves at Dick and Greg's door.
+Bert was almost amazed to find himself pleasantly greeted, but
+Dick and Greg were true to their decision to bury the hatchet of the
+past if possible.
+
+It was nearly time to light the gas. In the fading light Anstey
+walked over to a window, watching the snow swirl down into the
+area out-side. At West Point the snowstorms are famous for their
+severity.
+
+"Hang it !" growled Anstey. "I don't suppose you can ever make a
+Virginian like myself grow to like this beastly winter weather. And
+I miss the drills and dress parade. Don't you?"
+
+"Yes," nodded Dick. "I miss everything of an outdoor nature, when
+it is withheld from me."
+
+"Oh, if you 're missing outdoors just now, you imght go out and
+keep on, within cadet limits, until you've tramped five miles,"
+grinned the cadet from Virginia.
+
+"If some of the upper class men found that we liked to be out in a
+snowstorm, I'm afraid they'd make us stand on our heads in a
+drift," laughed Cadet Holmes.
+
+"Speaking of that," continued Anstey, wheeling about, "have any
+of you fellows run into real hazing as yet?"
+
+"Not I," replied Prescott, with a shake of his head.
+
+"Nor I," added Greg.
+
+"It's a shame that we should be expected to put up with any such
+nonsense," growled Cadet Dodge belligerently. "Who are the
+yearlings that they should feel at liberty to rub our noses in the
+mud! We plebes ought to combine to put a stop to this outrage.
+Now, I'd like to see any smart year-"
+
+"Eh!" called a voice, cheerily, as the door was thrust open.
+Yearling cadets Pratt and Judson stepped into the room.
+
+Instantly three of the plebes present rose and stood at attention.
+Bert Dodge didn't.
+
+"What has got into your sense of military manners, mister!"
+demanded Cadet Pratt, transfixing Bert with a haughty stare.
+
+"What's wrong with my manners!" demanded Cadet Dodge.
+
+"What's that!" cried Pratt.
+
+"What's wrong with my manners!" repeated Dodge, though a bit
+more tractably.
+
+"What?"
+
+"What is wrong with my manners, sir!" Bert amended.
+
+"That's just a shade better, mister," admitted Yearling Pratt. "But
+you are too sparing of your 'sirs,' mister. Now, answer me again,
+and use 'sir' after each word."
+
+Plebe Dodge gulped hard, but Pratt and Judson were glaring at
+him. So he began:
+
+"What, sir, is, sir, wrong, sir, with, sir, my, sir, manners, sir!"
+
+"Mister, why didn't you stand at attention when we entered the
+room!"
+
+"Because you're not-"
+
+"What!" exploded Yearling Judson. "Because, sir, you're, sir, not,
+sir, my, sir, superior, sir, officers, sir."
+
+"Are we yearlings!"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"And what are you!" demanded Cadet Judson, with infinite
+contempt.
+
+"Only, sir, a, sir, plebe, sir."
+
+"Mangy, unkempt, uncouth and offensive, are you not!"
+
+Bert flared and swallowed hard, but be responded, very meekly:
+
+"Yes, Sir."
+
+"You 're-what?"
+
+"A, sir, mangy, sir, unkempt, sir, unncouth, sir, and, sir, offensive,
+sir, plebe, sir."
+
+"Very true," nodded Mr. Pratt. "But, at least, mister, you have
+learned how to answer a yearling or any other superior, haven't
+you!"
+
+"Yes, sir," Bert meekly assented.
+
+"But there's one thing the poor beast doesn't know how to do yet,"
+observed Mr. Jud son, turning to his classmate.  "He doesn't
+understand how to stand at attention when he is honored by a
+yearling's visit."
+
+"Teach him-if you find that he's intelligent enough," advised
+Yearling Pratt.
+
+"Turn down that mattress, mister," commanded Mr. Judson,
+pointing to Dick Prescott's iron cot.
+
+Bert made the mistake of looking first at Cadet Prescott for
+permission.
+
+"Now, mister, what makes you hesitate!" fumed Mr. Judson.
+
+"It isn't my cot, sir," replied Dodge.
+
+"What?"
+
+"It, sir, is, sir, not, sir, my, sir, cot, sir."
+
+"That has nothing to do with your orders. Turn down that
+mattress!"
+
+Bert obeyed with great alacrity.
+
+"Now, then, mister," ordered Yearling; Jud-son, "get up on that
+mattress, and stand at attention upside down!"
+
+It took Bert Dodge a few precious seconds to understand the full
+nature of the ignominious thing he had to do.
+
+This was neither more nor less than to stand on his head on the
+mattress. He could rest his hands beside his head, at the outset,
+bracing his feet against the wall So far it was not difficult. But-
+
+"Don't you know the position of attention, mister!" demanded
+Cadet Pratt, with feigned anger. "Your hands should hang naturally
+at your sides, the little finger touching the seam of the trousers."
+
+Now, in this inverted position the hands "hung" anything but
+"naturally" at the sides. In fact, Bert had to hold his hands up in the
+air in order to have the little fingers touch the seams of the
+trousers.
+
+Standing on his head, in this fasidon, without support, was
+something that taxed all of Mr. Dodge's athletic powers. He had to
+try over again, more than a half a dozen times, ere he achieved a
+decent performance of this gymnastic feat.
+
+"Now, let us see how good a soldier you are, mister," commanded
+Yearling Pratt, turning around upon Plebe Anstey.
+
+Anstey's cheeks were just a bit pale, from suppressed anger, but he
+speedily mastered this novel way of standing at attention, and did
+it to the satisfaction of the hazers.
+
+Then Dick and Greg did it, and rather better than either of their
+predecessors. The old gym. and field work of training for the
+Gridley High School teams had hardened their muscles in a way
+that stood them in good stead now.
+
+"Brace, mister!" commanded Yearling Jud son, focusing his gaze
+on smarting Bert Dodge.
+
+Bert knew what that meant, from hearsay, and didn't pretend that
+he didn't. This time he took the position of attention on his feet,
+and then exaggerated the position by throwing his head and
+shoulders as far back as he could, standing rigidly in this latter
+position.
+
+It isn't much of a thing to do, as far as taking the attitude goes. It is
+the length of time a plebe is kept at a "brace" that makes it count
+as an effective form of hazing. "Bracing" is generations old at
+West Point. The theory of upper class men has always been that
+bracing, long continued, fastens the principles of erect carriage
+upon a plebe, and teaches him, more quickly than anything else
+could, how to hold himself and to walk.
+
+Dick, Greg and Anstey were likewise soon straining themselves in
+the "brace" attitude. And mighty funny these four hapless plebes
+looked as they stood thus, wondering when the hazers would let up
+on them. But Yearlings Pratt and Judson looked on grimly,
+warning any plebe as often as the offender showed a disposition to
+lessen the severity of his "brace."
+
+How everyone of the four ached can be determined by the reader if
+he will take the full position of the brace, and hold it steadily for
+ten or fifteen minutes by a friend's watch.
+
+Dodge began to wobble at last. Anstey was sticking it out pluckily,
+but knew his endurance must soon give out. Dick and Greg felt
+their back muscles and nerves throbbing. Yet neither Judson nor
+Pratt showed any intention of giving the command to stop.
+
+Suddenly a quick step was heard in the hallway outside.
+
+Anyone who has been at the Military Academy as long as had Pratt
+and Judson knew the meaning of that particular, swift step.
+
+One of the "tacs.," as the tactical officers are called, was making
+an unscheduled tour of inspection. For an upper class man to be
+caught hazing, or for a plebe to be caught submitting, was equally
+dangerous to either yearling or plebe! It might mean dismissal.
+
+CHAPTER VII  A SUDDEN GRIND AT MATH.
+
+HAD Dick's been the first door opened six cadets would have been
+instantly in serious trouble.
+
+Fortunately the door across the corridor was the first to be opened,
+and the six on this side of the hallway heard another cadet's voice
+call quietly:
+
+"Attention!"
+
+It was, therefore, a tactical officer making an inspection.
+
+At the United States Military Academy the superintendent, who
+has the local rank of colonel, is at the head of this government
+institution in all its departments.
+
+Discipline, however, and training in tactics, comes within the
+especial province of another officer, known as the commandant of
+cadets, who ranks locally as a lieutenant-colonel, and who gets in
+closer touch with the cadet corps.
+
+Under the commandant of cadets are several other Army officers,
+captains and lieutenants, who take upon themselves the numerous
+duties of which the commandant has oversight. These subordinate
+officers in the tactical department are known as tactical officers.
+The cadets call them "tac.s."
+
+Each day one of these "tac.s" is in charge at the office of the
+commandant, which is in cadet headquarter's building, on the
+south side of the area of cadet barracks.
+
+This officer, who is in charge for a full period of twenty-four
+hours, when his turn comes, is officially designated as the "officer
+in charge." Among the cadets he is privately referred to as the "O.
+C." In a similar way, in cadet parlance, the commandant himself is
+known as the "K.C."
+
+Now, one of the numerous duties of the O.C., who is an Army
+officer and himself a graduate of West Point, is to make sudden,
+unexpected tours of inspection whenever the fancy-or the
+suspicion-seizes him.
+
+Such an inspection need by no means extend through the whole of
+cadet bayracks. It may, for that matter, be only to one subdivision,
+or even to a single floor or room of one subdivision. Yet record
+must be kept of such inspections, and of any offenses against
+discipline that may be discovered by'such a flying visit.
+
+A scrap of paper on the floor, a match end on a study table, any
+article of furniture or clothmg out of its proper place, or any
+undress or untidiness on the part of a cadet, constitutes a breach of
+discipline, and must be reported and atoned for. Naturally, a case
+of hazing would be a most serious "delinquency," as breaches of
+discipline are termed.
+
+Just what Captain Vesey, O.C., on this day, expected to discover
+through the present flying inspection will never be known. If he
+had tried Dick's door first.
+
+But he didn't.
+
+However, there was no chance whatever for Yearlings Pratt and
+Judson to retreat unseen. The door across the hall had been left
+open, and the tac. would be sure to detect their sudden departure.
+
+Dick Prescott's first movement was to pounce upon his disordered
+bedding, swiftly folding over the mattress, and laying the bed
+clothing in the prescribed manner.
+
+Then he tiptoed up to the dismayed Judson, whispering in that
+yearling's ear as he knowingly winked at Pratt:
+
+"If I'm not too abominably b. j., sir, won't you please come to my
+table and help me bone math?"
+
+It looked like a saving inspiration. As Dick slipped into his chair
+he signed to Bert Dodge to stand at one end of the table.  Judson
+snatched up one of Dick's mathematical textbooks, opening to one
+of the first pages at random. Dick turned sideways in his chair,
+glancing up at the yearling with a rapt expression.
+
+Yearling Pratt slipped into Greg's chair. Holmes and Anstey stood
+on either side of him. Pratt began rapidly to sketch out a problem
+that he chanced to remember from plebe year math.
+
+Almost instantly the door swung open. Not one of the cadets
+happened to be looking in that direction. As Captain Vesey, the
+tac., white-gloved, stepped into the room he was just in time to
+hear Cadet Judson say:
+
+"Perhaps if you were to work out a formula in algebra, mister, you
+would find the idea even more clear.  But I think you understand it
+now."
+
+"Yes, sir' thank you," replied Cadet Prescott
+
+"This is the way I would explain the problem," murmured Mr.
+Pratt, to Greg and Anstey. Just at that instant the yearling looked as
+though butter couldn't melt in his mouth.
+
+Turning a bit, Pratt caught sight of the tac., who stood looking on
+as though transformed with wonder.
+
+"Attention!" called Pratt at ouce.
+
+All the others wheeled, Dick rising in order to do so. Six young
+men who looked intensely earnest over study, faced the O.C.
+respectfully.
+
+Doubtless a bit taken back, certainly so if he had expected to find
+anything wrong, Captain Vesey took two steps into the room,
+glanced about him, then wheeled and walked out.
+
+"I must be going now," uttered Yearling Judson a moment later.
+"Call on me again, once in a while, if you need any help in math."
+
+"Thank you very much, sir,  murmured Cadet Prescott respectfully.
+
+"Coming along now, Pratt?" called Judson.
+
+"Yes; I must be getting back to my own bone," replied Yearling
+Pratt.
+
+It would have been out of the question for yearlings to thank
+plebes for a service such as had just been rendered. So the late
+hazers merely stepped from the room.
+
+"Odd! Mighty queer !" muttered Captain Vesey to himself, as he
+unhooked his sword and stood it in a corner over in the O.C.'s
+office. "Mr. Judson and Mr. Pratt have a pretty bad reputation for
+hazing. And yet, when I come upon them, it is to find them helping
+the poor young greenhorns through the mazes of math. I wonder if
+that was a put-up job on me."
+
+"Well you are a silly ninny, Prescott!" uttered Cadet Dodge
+disgustedly.
+
+"Meaning-what?" asked Dick coolly.
+
+"Those yearlings were just about caught redhanded."
+
+"Yes."
+
+"And you had to go to work and arrange amateur dramatics like a
+flash. So when the tac. pops in here, he finds those most estimable
+young ruffians conducting an innocent day school here!".
+
+"Well?" demanded Prescott.
+
+"Why didn't you leave it for that yearling couple to pull their own
+chestnuts out of the fire?"
+
+"Because," replied Dick quietly, "I'm not going to be the means, if
+I can help it of having any man kicked out of this corps when he's
+as anxious to be a soldier as I am!"
+
+"You're a ninny, just the same!" Bert decia red.
+
+"And you're a hopeless minority here, Dodge, so come along back
+to our room," broke in Anstey. "We've some boning of our own to
+do before the call sounds for supper formation."
+
+Before the battalion of cadets marched to supper, through the
+heavy storm that night, the news of Dick Prescott's inspiration had
+traveled pretty firmly through the yearling class.
+
+It is against all West Point traditions to make a hero of a plebe.
+Not a word of congratulation came to Cadet Prescott. It wouldn't
+even save the young man from being the victim of a lot of hazing
+pranks, for these inflictions were deemed necessary to the plebe's
+training. None the less, the incident, as it became known, caused
+the impression to spread that Cadet Prescott was a good fellow and
+that he was likely to prove a credit to the grand old United States
+Military Academy.
+
+Hazing a thing of the past at West Point! The War Department and
+the authorities at the Military Academy have done all they could,
+and will continue to do all in their power to stamp out hazing.
+
+Since the Congressional investigation in the early years of the
+present century, much has been done to cut down the rigor of
+hazing at West Point. General Mills stamped out much of it with
+iron vigor. Colonel Scott dealt many hard blows to the system.
+Other officers have bent their energies to the same problems. The
+way of the hazer is perilous nowadays. In a word, of late years
+hazing has been at a very low level at the United States Military
+Academy.
+
+It is, however, a practical impossibility to stamp out hazing wholly
+in an institution where hazing has been one of the most cherished
+traditions through many generations of cadets.
+
+The hazing of today is milder; there is less of it, and, with rare
+exceptions, it is less brutal. Yet hazing, in one form or another,
+will doubtless continue at West Point through the twentieth
+century as it did through the nineteenth.
+
+The form of hazing has changed, if not the spirit. Sorely pressed by
+tac.s, and by other oflicers stationed at West Point, the yearlings,
+or second-year men, who do most of the hazing, have developed
+new forms of the ancient sport, and some of these forms may be
+carried on in actual sight of an Army officer without exciting his
+suspicions.
+
+Where possible, some of the old-style forms of more innocent and
+purely mischievous hazing are retained. Where "necessary" new
+hazes are employed that are bound to tax the best efforts of
+disciplinary or other officers to detect.
+
+Hazing is one of the diversions of men of mature age on the floor
+of the New York Stock Exchange. Even in the United States
+Senate there are recognized ways of hazing a new Senator who
+displays too little reverence for the traditions of that august body.
+
+Then why hope to abolish hazing utterly at West Point?
+
+CHAPTER VIII  DICK BONES TROUBLE
+
+As May drew on towards June there was, among the yearlings, a
+noticeable falling off of interest in hazing.  Every second-year man
+in the corps found himself much more interested in his standing in
+his studies than formerly.
+
+Several of the yearlings had reason to feel acutely concerned over
+their standing in academic work. That some of them would be "found"
+and dropped from the corps on account of their deficiencies was almost
+a foregone conclusion.
+
+So the warm nights of May found anxious young men in all the
+classes boning up to within a few minutes of the sound of taps.
+
+Least anxious of all the cadets were the scores of new plebes. They
+had been required to report in March mainly that they might
+acquire the proper West Point habits of study and recitation before
+going into the summer encanipment. Hence these new plebes were
+not to be treated very searchingly in the academic work.
+
+One afternoon Greg, who had felt half ailing for twenty-four hours,
+went on sick report and walked to the hospital to consult the
+medical officer in charge.
+
+Captain Goodwin looked Greg over and ordered him to remain at
+hospital that night for observation and treatment, declaring that the
+young plebe would doubtless be all right by morning.
+
+Cadet Prescott was alone in their room, boning hard, at about nine
+that evening, when a member of the cadet guard informed him that
+he was wanted by the O.C. It was only to make an explanation of
+something trivial that had occurred that afternoon.
+
+As Dick rose, placing his desk in order, he decided to turn off the
+gas during his absence. This he did, then left the room.
+
+Crossing the area he climbed the stairs to the office of the O.C.
+Pausing at the threshold, he saluted, then was bidden to enter.
+
+Dick's report was quickly made. He was then permitted to return to
+quarters.
+
+As Cadet Prescott threw open his door the room was in darkness,
+hardly any light entering from the hallway.
+
+As Dick stepped into the room he was startled to see a dimly
+defined figure bending ove? his cot.
+
+In the poor light it seemed to Prescott that the intruder wore the
+attire of a "cit."
+
+Now, no civilian had any right in the room, nor in cadet barracks,
+for that matter. Prescott's first swift conclusion was that some
+scoundrel was there for wholly improper purposes.
+
+"You rascal, I've got you!" exclaimed the plebe, crossiug the room
+almost in a single bound.
+
+Swift as a flash Dick laid hands on the intruder, dragged him back
+from the cot, wheeled him around and let drive a blow from the
+shoulder that caught the prowler on the nose and sent him to the
+floor.
+
+"Let up, you b. j. plebe!" came a roar of smothered rage:
+
+The body had fallen nearer the door, where the light from outside
+was stronger.
+
+Dick noted, with a thrill of dismay, that the other was attired not in
+"cit." dress, but in the'cadet gray.
+
+"Hold on a minute," begged Prescott.
+
+Striking a match he turned on the gas. As the light flamed up Dick
+saw Cadet Corporal Spurlock standing before him, quivering with
+rage.
+
+"You b. j. plebe!" snarled Mr. Spurlock. "I'll take this out of you!"
+
+"Certainly," replied Dick promptly. "But, first of all, I want to
+assure you that I didn't see the uniform. I thought I had discovered
+a cit. in here, and I knew no cit. could be here on any honest
+business."
+
+"Bosh!" growled Spurlock, who was holding a handkerchief to a
+nose that was bleeding freely.
+
+Cadet Prescott drew himself up, his eyes flashing.
+
+"Pardon me, sir," returned Dick. "But you know, as well as I, sir,
+that a lie is impossible to a cadet."
+
+It was a hard report to get around that a cadet had told a lie. At
+times cadets have been known to lie, but invariably, after
+detection, they have been "cut" and forced out of the corps. So
+lying is a rare occurrence, indeed, among the cadets.
+
+"I'll make you settle for this, anyway," sputtered Cadet Corporal
+Spurlock.
+
+"Very good, sir," Dick answered resolutely. "You'll settle at once,
+too, mister, or as soon as I've stopped this flow."
+
+"Very good, sir," Dick answered again. "But if I'm not too b. j., sir,
+in talking at all, I'll call your attention to that clock. There is just
+time for you to reach your quarters before taps sound."
+
+Spurlock glanced hastily at the clock.
+
+"You're right, mister," he admitted. "Then you may wait until you
+hear from me, mister."
+
+With that Spurlock walked quickly from the room.
+
+Dick examined his cot and found that Spurlock had been engaged
+in the humorous trick of placing some two score exploded caps
+from target-rifle ammunition under his under sheet.
+
+"He wanted me to jump into bed and go down plump on all those
+caps, and then squirm there until after taps 'inspection," grinned
+Prescott as he swiftly removed the stuff. "It would have been a
+tough one, too-but now I guess I have a tougher proposition on my
+hands."
+
+Prescott sighed a trifle as he hastily undressed, placing his clothing
+according to the regulations on the subject.
+
+Just as he had finished taps sounded on the drum outside. Dick
+turned off his gas, bounded into bed and lay there as the door
+opened and the bull's-eye lantern of the subdivision inspector
+flashed into the room.
+
+"All right here, sir, or accounted for," Dick remarked to the
+inspector, who hastily closed the door and hurried along on his
+rounds.
+
+True to the medical officer's promise Greg was discharged from
+hospital the following morning, and permifted to report back to
+full duty.
+
+"What's this I hear, Dick, old ramrod?" Greg demanded as soon as
+the chums were back in quarters from breakfast..  'The news is
+flying around fast that Mr. Spurlock is going to call you out."
+
+"I expect that he is," Dick admitted ruefully, and then told his
+chum all the details of the occurrence of the night before.
+
+"Why, that doesn't strike me as fair excuse for a fight," Greg
+muttered. "You explained and apologized."
+
+"Mr. Spurlock wouldn't accept any apology."
+
+"Just the same," argued Greg, "I don't believe you have to fight, in
+this case. You can refuse, anyway, until the matter has been
+examined into by the scrap committee of the yearling class. Now,
+in view of the fact that you offered explanation and apology, I
+don't believe that the yearling scrap committee can hold you to any
+meeting with Mr. Spurlock this time. Let me handle this affair for
+you, old ramrod."
+
+"Greg," rejoined Dick, laying an affectionate hand on his
+roommate's shoulder, "as long as I'm a new plebe I don't intend to
+try to dig out of any fight that an upper class man demands from
+me. Perhaps I could get the scrap committee to turn down Mr.
+Spurlock's desire-but I don't mean to do anything of the sort. I did
+all that I felt I could do consistently to stop the fight. Now it has
+got to come off, or else it will be because Mr. Spurlock has
+become more reasonable."
+
+"He'll eat you up, that big fellow," mused Greg bitterly. "Mr.
+Spurlock is at least fifteen pounds heavier than you. He has had a
+year more of West Point gym work than you've had and he has the
+reputation of being pretty nearly the yearling champion in the
+ring."
+
+"Of course I shall be thrashed," admitted Dick doggedly.
+"However, that probably won't do me any permanent harm.
+Besides, Greg, it's certain that I'll have to fight some yearling
+sooner or later, so I may as well take the dose now. Every plebe, I
+reckon, has to have one fight, anyway, with a yearling. It's a part of
+the system here, from all I can hear."
+
+Rap-tap sounded at the door.
+
+"Come in," called Dick, but the door opened just as he was calling.
+Mr. Kramer, of the yearling class, stepped inside.
+
+"Mr. Spurlock requests me to inform Mr. Prescott that he demands
+a fight, at as early a moment as possible."
+
+"My compliments to Mr. Spurlock, and I will meet him-here in
+barracks, to-night, I hope. Mr. Holmes has consented to act as one
+of my seconds."
+
+"Very good, sir," nodded Yearling Kramer stiffly. "Mr. Holmes,
+will you step out and discuss the matter with me now?"
+
+"Yes, sir," responded Greg. He was gone ten minutes.  When he
+returned Greg announced:
+
+"There's an extra room on the top floor of the next subdivision.
+The fight will take place there at nine to-night. Mr. Anstey has
+agreed to help look after your interests."
+
+"All right, and thank you, old fellow," nodded Dick, as he turned to
+pick up a book.
+
+Greg gulped and quivered behind his chum's back.
+
+"He doesn't seem excited, but I know that I am," muttered Cadet
+Holmes. "The dear old fellow won't lose anything through
+nervousness, anyway."
+
+Dick went through his studies and recitations as usual that day. If
+the stiff ordeal of the coming night carried any twinges for him, it
+wasn't noticeable in his demeanor. Yet Dick knew that the news
+had gotten thoroughly about among the cadets. He saw many of the
+new plebes gazing at him wonderingly.
+
+When they jeturned from supper that night and reached their room,
+Greg was manifestly nervous-nervous enough for the pair of them,
+in fact.
+
+"Dick, do you-do you expect to win?" asked Greg at last.
+
+"Against a man like Mr. Spurlock?" smiled Cadet Prescott, and
+turned back to his study.
+
+At a little after half past eight Mr. Anstey knocked on the door and
+came in.
+
+"How's your form, Prescott, old ramrod?" the Virginian demanded.
+
+"Fine, I hope," replied Dick laconically.
+
+Greg heaved an inward sigh.
+
+"Poor old Dick," he told himself. "I hate to see him hammered
+black and blue in a bare-knuckles fight like this one!"
+
+CHAPTER IX PLEBE PRESCOTT'S FIRST FIGHT
+
+WE'D better get on hand early," advised Greg.  "You want to take
+plenty of time about stripping for the fight. It would be throwing
+some of your chances away, Dick, for you to strip and prepare
+hurriedly, and step into the ring all flustered."
+
+"You think I'm going to lose, don't you, Greg?" demanded Prescott
+grimly.
+
+"Oh, I hope not," protested Cadet Holmes staunchly.
+
+"But you think so, just the same," smiled Dick. "Now, Greg, do
+you remember the old Gridley High School spirit? Do you
+remember that our coaches told us to enter every battle on gridiron
+or diamond with the firm conviction that we couldn't be beaten?
+That's the old Grid. spirit that has been stealing over me the last
+few hours."
+
+"It's a mighty good spirit to take into a fight," nodded Anstey.
+
+Yet he, too, felt grave doubts that Prescott could come out of the
+approaching fight anything but a mass of pounded pulp. Mr.
+Spurlock was one of the highly accredited fighters of the yearling
+class.
+
+"Well, we'd better be moving," nodded Greg. When they reached
+the unused room on the top floor of the next subdivision of plebes,
+they found Cadet Lieutenant Edwards and Mr. Jennison, both of
+the first class, already on hand. Mr.. Devine, of the yearling class,
+who was to be one of Spurlock's seconds, was also in the room.
+There were two buckets of water, with sponges, and a supply of
+rough towels.
+
+Almost immediately after Mr. Spurlock and Mr. Kramer came in.
+
+Both of the principals now began to strip. Each had chosen the
+same fighting costume, consisting of old gray flannel trousers, belt,
+rubber soled shoes and sleeveless sweater.
+
+As Spurlock stood forth, arrayed for the battle, it was seen that he
+was a man of magnificent build for one of his years. His chest
+expansion was splendid. Over his chest and between his. shoulders
+formidable muscles stood well out. His arms were not fat, but
+rather bulky with muscles. He made one think of a blacksmith.
+
+Dick Prescott, being much lighter, did not make such an imposing
+appearance. Yet he did not strip to look like a weakling. His chest
+was fine, the muscles between his shoulder blades stood up well,
+while his arms, far smaller than Spurlock's, displayed the long,
+well-knit muscles of the Indian.
+
+Two first class men had volunteered to act as the officials of the
+fight, since, in a cadet fight, none of the officials can ever be of the
+class represented by either combatant.
+
+"Are you ready, gentlemen?" inquired Mr. Edwards, while Mr.
+Jennison drew out a watch that had served at many a cadet fight..
+
+"Ready, sir," replied Spurlock. "Ready, sir," added Prescott. "This
+fight," announced the referee, "is to be to a finish. The rounds will
+last two minutes each, with a minute's rest between. Queensbury
+rules will be followed as far as they can be made to apply. This
+being a bare-knuckle fight for a matter of principle, the
+combatants will not shake hands."
+
+There was an impressive pause, the referee turning to look at each
+fighter in turn.
+
+Spurlock stood at ease, his arms folded over his chest, a grin on his
+face.
+
+Plebe Prescott looked less confident. He stood with his fists
+clenched at his sides.
+
+"Time!" called Mr. Edwards.
+
+Spurlock unfolded his arms, throwing them in an attitude of
+semi-defense, as he coolly looked his opponent over.
+
+Dick Prescott, on the other hand, threw his left foot forward,
+planting it firmly though lightly. His left arm raked outward, while
+his right fist came to a guard over his heart region.
+
+"I suppose I've got to start this, as well as end it.," jeered Mr.
+Spurlock. He made a sudden leap forward, throwing his offense
+low. Dick's left shot out to counter. Then Spurlock drove in, but
+Prescott got away by nimble dodging. Each man had now turned;
+the seconds jumped nimbly around, the referee following, while
+Jennison, his gaze mostly on the watch, jumped nimbly into a
+corner that he judged would not be used by the fighters.
+
+"This isn't a sprint," sneered Spurlock, as he followed nimble Plebe
+Prescott around, Dick doing some saving dodging, ducking and
+sidestepping.
+
+Nearly a dozen of Spurlock's blows Prescott succeeded in
+escaping, though the plebe was kept so busily on the defensive that
+he could not get back with anything to count.
+
+"Stand up, you jumping-jack!" hissed Spur-lock.
+
+He did get in a short-arm jab on Dick's right lower ribs that made
+the plebe gasp audibly.
+
+Spurlock now started in to take advantage of this by getting the
+plebe going. Dick, however, dodged less and countered better. He
+took two nasty blows', then Mr. Jennison called.
+
+''Time!"
+
+"You're standing him off a heap better than I thought you could,"
+whispered Anstey, as and Greg sponged the plebe fighter off
+quickly and then began to knead his muscles. While this was still
+going on the referee again summoned the fighters forward.
+
+The second round started. As before, Prescott kept mainly on the
+defensive, though always watching his chance to come back at his
+more powerful opponent. Spurlock began to press his man hard,
+when, of a sudden, Prescott got in low under the other's guard,
+came up and landed a blow on the Spurlock nose that brought the
+first blood of the fight.
+
+With an angry growl Spurlock leaped in now, to chase and wind up
+his younger opponent.
+
+But Dick did some nimble dodging, devoting his attention largely
+to defending his eyes from assault.
+
+Then, in turning, suddenly, Dick let one leg drag an instant behind
+him. Spurlock, following like lightning, aimed a blow, but it fell
+short, for he tripped over Dick's leg and fell sprawling.
+
+Referee, time-keeper and plebe principals laughed. Spurlock's
+seconds scowled.
+
+But Dick generously drew back five or six feet, standing on the
+defensive until Mr. Spurlock leaped to his feet, ready to renew the
+combat.
+
+Spurlock, however, had hurt one of his knees, in going down, just
+enough to interfere with his nimbleness of pursuit during the rest
+of the round. Time-keep Jennison soon ended that round.
+
+"Mister," growled Yearling Kramer, turning around while Dick sat
+between his seconds being sponged and kneaded, "don't be so
+much of a coward! Don't run away and delay the finish.  Stand up
+as if you had some manhood!"
+
+"Thank you, sir," replied Dick coldly. "I'm managing my end of
+this fight."
+
+"You b. j. little poltroon," snarled Kramer. "I'll call you out myself
+if you have the nerve to talk back!" hissed Kramer.
+
+"Is licking cowards your specialty?" demanded Prescott coolly.
+
+But that settled it, making a coming fight with Kramer an absolute
+necessity, now.
+
+"Mr. Kramer," interrupted Mr. Edwards sternly, "this has gone far
+enough. You must stop hectoring that plebe, sir. He has all he can
+attend to as it is."
+
+Kramer stopped, with a snap of the jaws. He didn't want to. But a
+hint, on a matter of etiquette, or the code, from the first class man,
+was as valid as a command. And Mr. Edwards had spoken in a
+tone that was authoritative enough.
+
+"You run all you want," whispered Greg indignantly. "You have a
+right to. This room is smaller than a Queensbury ring."
+
+"I shan't stop my footwork unless the referee orders it," replied
+Prescott, in an under-tone.
+
+"You're doing just right," nodded Anstey. "If you weren't Mr.  Edwards
+would stop it. He's running this fight on the fair-and-square. If I
+have a fight I hope it will be my luck to have Mr. Edwards running the
+job."
+
+"How do you feel?" asked Anstey, in an undertone.
+
+"All right," returned Dick. "But I had to trust to footwork to save
+myself. Mr. Spurlock got nearly all my wind in that other round."
+
+"Is your wind in again?" asked Greg anxiously.
+
+"Yes; I think I feel as fine as my man does," replied Dick, stepping
+up from the care of his handlers to await the command.
+
+"Isn't Mr. Kramer the brute?" whispered Anstey indignantly.
+
+"I'm not going to think of him, now," answered Plebe Prescott over
+his shoulder. "I have all I can attend to at present."
+
+"I'll get him now, Kramer," muttered Spur-lock, as he rose. "Watch
+me reduce that b. j. plebe to powder! I hope they have a spare cot
+for him over at hospital."
+
+Again the referee set them at it.
+
+Mr. Spurlock encountered a mild surprise, for now Dick seemed
+less inclined to trust to his nimble feet.  He put up a stand-up front,
+though several of Spurlock's sledge-hammer blows passed over
+Dick's falling head.
+
+Then the yearling began to fight lower.
+
+The plebe put up a good series of counters, though he took another
+bit of punishment in the short ribs, and began to back away.
+
+Across the room, Mr. Spurlock began driving his victim, slowly
+but systematically.
+
+Dick retreated, putting up the best guard he could, dodging when
+he had to.
+
+But the yearling, full of the grim spirit of the thing, pursued
+without undue haste, driving the plebe, a foot at a time, clean
+across the room toward the opposite wall.
+
+At last Spurlock had his victim all but leaning against the wall,
+sorely pressed. Then, with a sudden tensing of his muscles, the
+yearling let his left drive to "paste" the plebe's head against the
+hard wall.
+
+CHAPTER X  THE "BEAST" WHO SCORED
+
+SMASH!
+
+But the plebe wasn't there. Dick Prescott had counted on this, and
+had wriggled out by a duck and a plunge forward that carried him
+beyond momentary risk of Mr. Spurlock's following right.
+
+The yearling's left fist landed with such force as to cause a half
+square yard of plaster to fall with a thud.
+
+With a yell of disgust Spurlock wheeled about, but the plebe was
+waiting for him.
+
+At just the right instant, Dick let fly with all his might with his
+own left.
+
+It caught the yearling over the right eye, closing it.
+
+Just three or four feet back danced Prescott, then came forward
+again. A blow set the yearling's nose to bleeding afresh.
+
+Then bang! went the other eye closed. The upper class men gasped
+with astonishment, for Spurlock was now getting into bad shape.
+
+He was all but dazed, in fact; and had twenty-five seconds yet to
+go in the round.
+
+Then, as much in mercy as for anything else, Dick Prescott
+dropped his left against the yearling's jawbone.
+
+There was a crash as the dazed man went to the floor.
+
+Instantly Mr. Jennison's voice rose, counting:
+
+"One, two, three. four-"
+
+"Take the full count, Spurdy," advised Kramer, bending forward
+over his principal.
+
+"-eight, nine, ten!" gasped out the timekeeper.
+
+Mr. Spurlock had shown no sign of rising. In fact, he was still
+unconscious.
+
+"I award the fight to Mr. Prescott," called the cool, exact tones of
+Mr. Edward.
+
+Greg could have let out a whoop and danced a war-dance, but in
+the presence of upper class men this plebe had to restrain himself.
+Anstey's eyes flashed, but otherwise the Virginian bore himself
+modestly.
+
+"Carry Mr. Spurlock down to the door. Then summon
+stretcher-bearers from the hospital," directed Mr. Edwards.
+
+It was Yearling Devine who sprang to obey this direction.
+
+Now Dick spoke, ever so quietly.
+
+"Mr. Kramer, I understood that you did me the honor to call me
+out."
+
+"Eh?" muttered that other yearling. "Oh, yes; so I did. Whenever
+you're ready, mister!"
+
+"If Mr. Edwards and Mr. Jennison are willmg," returned the plebe
+coolly, "I'm ready as soon as Mr. Spurlock has been carried away."
+
+"Oho, mister! B. j. to the end, are you?"
+
+"No, sir; only anxious to atone for my b. j.-ety," replied Cadet
+Prescott, with a little flash of his eyes.
+
+Anstey had gone below with Devine, to render any help that could
+be given.
+
+"This is rather unusual, mister," suggested Mr. Edwards, glancing
+at his watch. "How-ever, if you really feel fit, and if it suits Mr.
+Kramer-"
+
+"Oh, anything will suit me," returned the yearling. Truth to tell,
+Kramer wasn't by any means sure that he could whip this crafty
+plebe. But the issue had been thrown fairly in his teeth. Moreover,
+the honor of the yearling class was now at stake, and Kramer
+wasn't the man to go back on his class.
+
+"Listen, gentlemen," broke in Mr. Edwards. "This affair started a
+little ahead of' the time set. It is now nine-fifteen  In ten minutes or
+less, we can have Mr. Spurlock on his way to cadet hospital.
+Then, if you two mix it up spicily, we can have the affair over by
+nine-forty. In any case I shall have to call the fight by that time,
+and decide it a draw, if necessary. What say you?"
+
+"Quite satisfactory, sir," nodded Kramer.
+
+"Satisfactory, sir," added Prescott, waiting, as a plebe should, until
+the yearling had spoken.
+
+Devine was back almost at once. The seconds carried the still
+nuconscious Mr. Spurlock below to the waiting stretcher.
+Immediately after Kramer dropped in on a classmate, who gladly
+came upstairs to aid Mr. Devine in seconding Mr. Kramer.
+
+Not an unnecessary moment did Mr. Kramer lose with his
+stripping. He was ready in almost record time, presenting, bared, a
+man of about Mr. Spurlock's proportions, weight and general
+muscular fitness.
+
+Mr. Edwards quickly recited the conditions, then called for the
+start of the affair.
+
+Figuring that Prescott must now be a good deal sore and at least a
+bit winded, Mr. Kramer started in at a lively gait, trying to bear the
+plebe down with swift, overpowering rushes and showers of blows.
+
+Some of these landed on the plebe's sturdy body, the whacks
+resounding. But the blows merely stirred Prescott's fighting blood
+within him. Standing up fairly, with little footwork, but displaying
+much more speed, Dick Prescott drove in blow after blow in such
+bewildering succession as to all but daze the yearling.
+
+Bang! Kramer's right eye was half closed just as Cadet Jennison
+called the end of the first round.
+
+"Great Scott, but that little fellow is a canned hurricane!" muttered
+Devine, as he wrung out cloths in cold water and applied then to
+Kramer's swelling eye. "Old man, you want to swing one blow
+down on the top of his head, and crush him, if you want to save
+your personal appearance."
+
+"Won't I ?" grunted Kramer. "Just watch me. I won't murder the
+plebe, but I've stood all the fooling I'm going to."
+
+As the combatants rushed at each other again Kramer struck out
+two or three times; then clinched to save himself.
+
+"Break away, there!" admonished Edwards sternly. "Get off!"
+
+Again in that round Kramer clinched, despite the referee's sternest
+orders.
+
+"That's no way to meet a plebe, Mr. Kramer," cried Edwards
+disgustedly.
+
+After the second get-away Dick fairly danced around his man. A
+blow on the nose brought Kramer's blood. Then his left eye went
+all but shut. At that the yearling spun dizzily. Dick drove a light
+blow in behind his man's ear. Down went Spurlock's "avenger"
+sprawling on the floor.
+
+Mr. Jennison began to count while Kramer lay on the floor, stirring
+uneasily, yet not seeming to comprehend his seconds' warnings.
+
+"-eight, nine, ten!" finished Mr. Jennison, then put the watch in his
+pocket.
+
+"The fight is awarded to Mr. Prescott, and it isn't nine thirty yet,"
+announced Mr. Edwards.
+
+Dick's jubilant seconds sponged him, rubbed him down, kneaded
+his muscles and joyously assisted him in dressing.
+
+Kramer, coming to presently, but with a face that Anstey said
+"made him think of the Dismal Swamp," was assisted downstairs
+by his seconds, and taken to the cadet hospital.
+
+With the exception of the two yearlings whom Cadet Prescott had
+thrashed to a finish, all who had taken any part in the fights were
+in their beds, and lights out, when the subdivision inspectors
+flashed their bull's-eye lanterns into the room a moment after taps
+had sounded.
+
+For the honor of the class another yearling, Garston, forced a
+dispute within a few days, and Prescott had his third fight on his
+hands. He won it, though, about as easily as he had the other two.
+
+Three such victories left this plebe free from further fight
+annoyance. Also, according to a tacitly understood rule, none of
+these three yearlings could engage in hazing Mr. Prescott after
+that.
+
+CHAPTER XI  HOW CADET DODGE HELD POST NUMBER
+THREE
+
+IN the early days of the month of June, came all the glories of
+Commencement.
+
+The first class graduated, and went forth to receive their
+commissions in the Regular Army.
+
+The second class became the new first class, and head and arbiters
+of all personal affairs in the battalion of cadets.
+
+The yearlings now became second class men, and departed on
+their snmmer furlough, to last until the latter part of August.
+
+The old plebes moved up a peg, also, and became the new
+yearlings, vested with all the power of hazing and otherwise
+oppressing and training the plebes.
+
+But for the new plebes-what? They were plebes just as much as
+ever, and would be until the following June.
+
+The day after the graduating class had departed, and the late
+yearlings had followed in their trail, as the furloughed new second
+class, what was left of the battalion marched forth out of barracks
+into camp.
+
+Here under the khaki-colored tents what was left of the battalion
+settled down to the life of the soldier in the field.
+
+An untrained eye might not have noticed much in the arrangement
+of the camp. However, the tents of the main camp were arranged
+along six company streets. There was also the larger tent of the
+tactical officer in charge, the guard-tent, and some other tents used
+in the administration of camp-life.
+
+Now, every text-book was laid aside for the summer. Instruction
+during camp period was to be in the practical duties that belong to
+the soldier's life.
+
+The new first class mourned the loss of a few members who had
+been "found"-that is, who had failed in their studies just before
+Cornmencement.  More than a score had been dropped from the
+new yearling class.  Only two of the new plebes had been dropped,
+they having been found wholly and absolutely unfit to keep the
+brain-fagging pace of academic work at West Point.
+
+"I never minded study back home," muttered Greg, as he and Dick
+toiled setting their few belongings to rights under canvas. "But, the
+way the study-gait is kept up here at West Point, I certainly say
+'hurrah' with all my heart at the thought that books are closed for
+all summer."
+
+"We'll be back at the grind in September agam," laughed Dick.
+"And I'm assured that we haven't struck the real study-gait yet; that
+these new three months from March on are only to break us in a
+bit, so that we won't mind the real thing so much when we meet it
+in September."
+
+"Then you give me cause for gloomy thought," shuddered Greg.
+
+"Make way for a future general," grinned Anstey, as, with both
+arms full of belongings he forced his way into the tent. The cadets
+were housed three to a tent, and Anstey, to the great delight of
+Dick and Greg, had been assigned to bunk with them. Anstey, too,
+was delighted, for the young Virginian was a gentleman of the
+actual type, who had been growing steadily more weary of the
+sham "gentleman" that Bert Dodge had so far illustrated.
+
+"I'm tent orderly this week," announced Dick, with a grin. "I
+received that very important news five minutes ago. I'm
+responsible for the order and condition of the tent for this week, so
+you fellows will have to step around to keep the tent in style to suit
+me."
+
+"Oh, if you're tent orderly," laughed Anstey, 'then we don't have to
+take the word from you."
+
+"You don't?" demanded Prescott.
+
+"No, indeed.  If you're the orderly, then you're merely a striker."
+
+A "striker," in the Army, is an enlisted man who is paid by an
+officer for doing servant's work in spare time. Hence, a striker is,
+in general, anyone engaged in menial service.
+
+"Come on, Holmesy," urged Anstey, rising. "We 'll go out for a
+stroll. Striker, see to it that you have a flawless tent interior when
+we return."
+
+In his glee Anstey seized Greg by one arm and started to rush him
+out of the tent.
+
+"Oh, all right; go along," gibed Dick. "See who'll get the lash
+though, when I  turn in my report."
+
+"Would you skin us?" demanded Anstey, halting in the doorway of
+the tent and gazing back with a look of mock horror.
+
+To "skin" a brother cadet is to report him for some dereliction in
+duty, thereby bringing down discipline upon the offender.
+
+"Skin you?" repeated Dick. "Yes, sir! If you leave me to bring
+order out of all this military chaos I'll hand you in to the O.C. in a
+way that will take every square inch of cuticle from your body."
+
+"Traitor!" hissed Anstey tragically.
+
+"Mister, it's a whole year yet before plebes can sing, laugh, or be
+happy," came the muttered warning, as one of the newly-made
+yearlings passed by the tent.
+
+Anstey became silent at once. He had been at West Point long
+enough to know his place as a plebe.
+
+"Say," whispered Anstey presently, his eyes brimming over with
+glee, "have you seen poor old Dodge to-day?"
+
+"Not particularly," responded Prescott.
+
+"Well, he's the maddest rookie (recruit) you ever saw! Having been
+old Dodge's roommate up to reveille this morning, I am in a
+position to state that he took advantage of the general laxity last
+night, and slipped out of barracks after taps last night. He and
+some other embryo cadets got a rowboat, through connivance with
+a soldier in the engineer's detachment. They rowed across the
+river, to Garrison, and had some kind of high old racket. It must
+have been high," added Anstey pensively, "for I happened to turn
+over in bed this morning, and I saw old Dodge slipping back into
+the room about an hour before reveille."
+
+"Well, what's he mad about, now?" demanded Dick.
+
+"Why, he has been drawn for the new guard! He's on guard for
+to-day and to-night!" chuckled Anstey gleefully. "Already dead for
+sleep, his official duties will keep him without much more sleep
+for twenty-four hours, or until the new guard goes on to-morrow.
+Even then he'll have some other things to take up some of his
+time."
+
+By-and-by the tent was so much and well to rights that, when
+Cadet Corporal Brodie, of the new yearling class, looked in, he
+could find no fault with its appearance.
+
+Dick sat down on his box  Greg did the same. Plebes are not
+allowed campstools in the summer encampment-probably on the
+theory that so much luxury would be certain to demoralize them.
+
+"I'm going out for a wee bit stroll," drawled Anstey, after taking a
+look in the tiny soldier's mirror to see that his appearance was in
+apple-pie order.
+
+"Don't make the mistake of forgetting, and calling on one of the
+new yearlings," cautioned Dick dryly.
+
+"There's no trace of insanity in our family history," responded
+Anstey gravely, as he stepped outside.
+
+Dick and Greg found they had much to talk about in comparing
+notes of what each had learned about the nature of duties in the
+summer camp. They were still thus engaged when Anstey bounded
+back into the tent. The young Virginian looked as though he were
+having a tremendously hard time to keep himself from exploding.
+
+"Oh, this is rich!" he chuckled.
+
+"What is?" inquired Dick, looking up in some mystification.
+
+"What do you suppose Dodge has gone and done, now?"
+
+"Said a kind word about me?" smiled Prescott.
+
+"I didn't say anything about miracles," drawled the Virginian. "No;
+poor old Dodge has drawn number three post for guard duty on the
+late tour to-night!"
+
+"Well, isn't three a good enough number?" asked Greg innocently.
+
+"A good post, you meandering old puddin '-head!" retorted Anstey.
+"Good?  The post that goes by old Fort Clinton?"
+
+"Well, it is a bit lonely, off there in the woods," admitted Cadet
+Prescott.
+
+"Lonely?" bubbled over Anstey.  "And you've seen the ditch that
+runs along by that post?"
+
+"Naturally," nodded Dick. "You will probably remember that I got
+past the eye-sight tests of the rainmakers" (doctors).
+
+"Now, I've just been talking with a young cit. fellow, who's visiting
+one of the officers on post," continued Anstey. "He tells me that,
+every year, some of the yearlings slyly waylay a plebe whenever
+they can catch him pacing on number three post late at night."
+
+"What do they do to him?" questioned Prescott.
+
+"Oh, they don't do a thing to him, I reckon," drawled the Virginian.
+"At least, nothing that a jovial fellow can object to. They may roll
+him down in the ditch, take his gun away from him, and hide it, or
+some little thing like that."
+
+"Then, see here," proposed Dick solemnly, "Dodge may not be the
+most popular fellow in the corps, but he's one of us, anyway. He
+belongs to our class.  Anything that is done against him is, in a
+measure, done to the whole class. Anstey, we ought to get Dodge
+aside and warn him."
+
+"'Warn him?" repeated Anstey aghast. "Warn him-and spoil all the
+fun!"
+
+"I know I'd want to be warned, if it were likely to happen to me
+to-night," insisted Dick soberly.
+
+"Oh-well, I don't know but that you're right," assented Anstey
+slowly. "Yes; I'm certam you are."
+
+"Hullo, you raw-looking rookies," hailed Dodge, halting and
+looking in through the doorway.
+
+"Come in here a minute, Dodge," urged Anstey.
+
+For an instant Dodge looked suspicious. Then he muttered:
+
+"As you're not yearlings, I accept the invitation."
+
+Very spick and span Dodge looked as he entered the tent. As a
+member of the guard he wore a pair of immaculate white duck
+trousers, which held the "spooniest" crease imaginable. His gray
+coat and white gloves made him look more the dandy than usual.
+
+"We've something to tell you, Dodge," Anstey continued almost in
+a whisper, as the four plebes stood in a close bunch. "At least, old
+ramrod says we ought to tell you."
+
+Then, lowering his voice still more, Anstey gave an outline of what
+the new yearlings were supposed to try to do to the lonely plebe on
+post number three at the hour when ghosts walk.
+
+"Humph!" rejoined Dodge quickly.  "Let the yearlings try that sort
+of trick, if they dare Have those fellows no idea of the sacred
+position of trust held by a United States sentinel. For I, on sentry
+duty, represent the sovereignty of the United States just as much as
+does any soldier patrolling a lonely post in the face of the enemy in
+war time!"
+
+"All very well," grinned Dick "But how are you going to prove it, if
+the yearlings catch you napping tonight?"
+
+"They won't," retorted Dodge pompously. "They shan't. And if any
+fellow, I don't care who he is, tries to rush my post to-night he'll
+feel the steel of one of Uncle Sam's bayonets prodding him in the
+tenderest part of his worthless carcass!"
+
+"Look out, Dodge!" cautioned Greg softly. "Don't let any of the
+yearlings hear you canning a brag like that, or they'll get you if
+they have to turn out the whole class after taps to do the job."
+
+"Let 'em try it !" insisted Dodge. "And you fellows are at liberty to
+tell anyone that I said it."
+
+With that the speaker turned and strolled out of the tent, looking
+rather miffed.
+
+"The pompous old idiot!" muttered Anstey, in a tone of pained
+disgust. "Oh, why did ever fond parents let a mentally irresponsible
+chap like that come to a place like West Point for anyway?"
+
+"Our skirts are clear, anyway," remarked Dick Prescott
+consolingly. "We told him all we knew. If he doesn't act upon it,
+it's his rifle, not ours, that gets fouled."
+
+Dodge not only believed the hoax to be irnpossible, with him on
+number three, but he was incautious enough to talk about it freely
+among the plebes during the day.
+
+As was almost certain to happen, one of the yearlings heard Dodge
+sounding his trumpet of brag. That yearling, on the other side of a
+tent wall, grinned, and presently took counsel with other yearlings.
+
+It was almost at the stroke of taps that night when Bert Dodge
+marched from guard tent with the relief under Cadet Corporal
+Hasbrouck.
+
+As the other sentry on number three fell in, and Dodge stepped out
+to take up his vigil, Corporal Hasbrouck gave added instructions to
+the new and untried sentry..
+
+"Sometimes, Mr. Dodge, this post has been known to be about as
+dangerous as one in war time."
+
+"Yes, sir,  answered Dodge respectfully, as he was bound to. Then
+as the cadet corporal marched on with the relief, Dodge glanced
+after the vanishing squad to mutter to himself:
+
+"What a lot of nonsense. I'd like to see anyone rush me!"
+
+"I wonder what Dodge will do on number three to-night," yawned
+Anstey, just before the three teutmates fall asleep.
+
+"Oh, I wonder what it will be," grinned Greg.
+
+Then the three went sound asleep.
+
+Dick turned later and awoke just in time to hear the voice of a
+sentry calling:
+
+"Half past eleven! Post number one, and all's we-ell!"
+
+Then, a little further away, another voice took up the refrain:
+
+"Post num-ber two, and all's we-ell!"
+
+"Jupiter!" gasped sleepy Prescott, becoming instantly wide awake.
+"Post number three doesn't answer.  They've gone and got old
+Dodge."
+
+There was a rapid sound of feet in the company street as Corporal
+Hasbrouck and the guard rushed along at double quick.
+
+"Hey, you-wake up!" commanded Dick, vigorously prodding the
+plebe sleepers on either side of him.
+
+"All present, sir!" sleepily mumbled Anstey.
+
+"What's up?" demanded Greg, sitting up.
+
+"The very deuce !" retorted Dick. "There! Listen to that !"
+
+"Bang !" sounded a rifle report. Then Corporal Hasbrouck's
+bellowing voice could be heard:
+
+"Officer of the day, post number three!" Some one could be heard
+running down the street. A few moments passed, during which
+Dick, Greg and Anstey sat up on their mattresses listening eagerly.
+
+Then came the officer of the day running back.
+
+There was another brief pause, or just long enough for the officer
+of the day to make a report to the O.C. and to receive orders.
+
+Tr-r-rat-tat-tat-tat! The drummers at guard tent were running out
+the crisp summons of assembly.
+
+"Get up! Tumble out lively for general roll call!" muttered Dick,
+springing to his feet.
+
+"What in the mischief can they have done to old Dodge?"
+wondered Greg as he hurriedly pulled on his shoes.
+
+"You men will turn out instantly," ordered a cadet corporal,
+thrusting his head in at the tent doorway. "Elaborate dressing isn't
+necessary."
+
+Dick bolted out, followed by Anstey, Greg bringing up the rear.
+
+Cadets by scores and hundreds were falling in by companies, while
+the company commanders stood by watchful and alert.
+
+Only the members of the guard were excused from this assembly.
+
+Almost instantly orders rang out crisply, and the ranks closed.
+Then the cadet adjutant, the roll in his hands, began to call the
+names by companies, holding a pencil in readiness to check down
+any cadet found absent.
+
+Back of the adjutant stood the cadet officer of the day and Captain
+Vesey, of the Army, who was the tac. doing duty as O.C.
+
+The calling of the roll, while the cadets stood in ranks, wondering,
+brought a surprise to Captain Vesey. Every cadet supposed to be in
+camp was present or satisfactorily accounted for.
+
+"When dismissed," rang the cadet adjutant's voice, "men not on
+duty will return to their tents and finish the night's rest. Dismiss by
+companies."
+
+As the drowsy cadets turned back to their company streets there
+was a buzz of eager, under-toned conversation. Some of the men
+of the guard threw in enough information so that the main part of
+the story became known and flew like fire through the camp.
+
+When post number three failed to answer at half past eleven
+Corporal Hasbrouck and a squad of the guard went to that post in
+double-quick time.
+
+Dodge was found to be absent from his post, but his rifle, with
+bayonet fixed, was securely tied to a near-by bush in the position
+of "port arms."
+
+Dodge simply was not to be found. At one point signs of a scuffle
+had been found, but the trail, after starting down the slope, soon
+disappeared.
+
+Cadet Dodge could not be found. No one, unless some unidentified
+hazers, knew where that young sentry was.
+
+Assembly had been sounded and all cadets called out for roll call
+in order that it might be learned what cadets, if any, were absent
+from camp without authority. But roll each had failed to show any
+absentees.
+
+Captain Vesey was furious. So was Lieutenant-Colonel Strong, the
+commandant of cadets, who had just been summoned, and who
+was now at the tac. tent questioning Hasbrouck and others.
+
+Through the night no trace was found of Mr. Dodge.
+
+CHAPTER XII  PRESCOTT GETS NUMBER THREE
+
+WHEN the cadet battalion marched off to mess the following morning the
+mystery of Cadet Dodge's whereabouts was as big a mystery as ever.
+
+At the tent of the O.C., however, things were seething. As soon as
+the battalion returned to camp cadets were sent for in rapid
+succession.
+
+However, the trail remained as blind as ever. The various
+detachments were ordered out for drill or practical instruction.
+
+Our three young cadets were marched nearly two miles for
+instruction in target practice At the outset this work was with the
+gallery rifle at short ranges.
+
+At the close of practice the squad was marched back over the dusty
+roads.
+
+"Dodge has been found," was the smiling word passed around as
+this detachment of plebes was dismissed inside camp limits.
+
+"Where? How? When?"
+
+The amazing story was told with a good deal of quiet laughter.
+
+At about half past eight this morning one of the workmen
+employed in a lumber yard at Garrison, across the river, walking in
+behind a pile of lumber close to the river, was amazed to find a
+pillow slip lying on the ground. What was much more astonishing
+was the fact that a waist and a pair of legs protruded from the
+pillowcase, and the feet were bound.
+
+The workman, a dull-witted fellow, thought he had stumbled upon
+a case of murder, and rushed back to the office. The manager
+thereupon hurried to the spot and the mystery was quickly solved.
+
+The pillowcase being removed, they saw Mr. Dodge, bound and
+gagged.
+
+He was promptly set free and questioned. But he refused any
+information to the manager of the lumber yard, beyond stating that
+he had been the victim of an outrage.
+
+On the next trip of the ferry across the river Mr. Dodge returned,
+the lumber yard manager accompanying him. Mr. Dodge had
+reported, with a very crestfallen air, at the guard tent, and from
+there had been hurried on to Captain Vesey's tent. Now the story
+came out.
+
+Mr. Dodge had just given the eleven o'clock hail, the night before,
+when he was suddenly seized from behind and thrown flat. A
+pillowcase was slipped over his head while he was held by so
+many that struggling was out of the question. By the time the
+pillowcase had been pulled down over his head Mr. Dodge also
+discovered that he had been swiftly but most effectively bound.
+
+For the rest he knew only that he had been carried down the slope,
+unable to give any alarm, and that he had been lifted into a boat,
+taken over the river and dumped in the lumber yard. Here he had
+spent the rest of the night and the early morning until found. He
+had tried, repeatedly, to free himself, but had failed.
+
+This was all the material on which Captain Vesey, and his superior,
+Lieutenant-Colonel Strong, had upon which to work, save for Dodge's
+admission that he had been warned, the day before, by Cadets Prescott,
+Holmes and Anstey.  These three were accordingly summoned to the
+O.C.'s tent and asked to explain.
+
+"Mr. Prescott," asked Captain Vesey, "why did you warn Mr.
+Dodge?" What information had you that such an outrage on a
+sentry was being planned?"
+
+"I knew only what Mr. Anstey had told me, sir," replied Dick at
+once.
+
+"Mr. Anstey," demanded Captain Vesey, turning to the Virginian,
+"what information did you have, and how did you obtain it?"
+
+Back of the O.C. sat the K. C. (commandant of cadets), his dark
+eyes fixed upon the witnesses.
+
+"All the information I had, sir, was what a young cit. with whom I
+talked yesterday morning told me about pranks that had been
+played in past years upon plebes who had the late tour of post
+number three."
+
+"Your statement is that you had a conversation with a citizen, and
+that he told you of pranks that had been played in former years?"
+
+"Yes, sir; that was the intent of my statement."
+
+"The citizen with whom you talked did not give you any hint that a
+trick might be played last night?"
+
+"No, sir; only in the general way that the citizen's stories made me
+half suspect that something might be tried last night."
+
+"Because Mr. Dodge was a plebe?"
+
+"Yes, sir.
+
+"And also because the plebe was Mr. Dodge?" Anstey hesitated an
+instant, then shot out promptly."
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"Why did you think that Mr. Dodge was extremely likely to be
+singled out?"
+
+Cadet Anstey flushed and again hesitated.
+
+"You are not required to say anything distinctly to the discredit or
+disadvantage of Mr. Dodge, but you are required, Mr. Anstey, to
+give any information that will aid the authorities in running down
+this outrage and its perpetrators. Again, sir, why did you imagine
+that Mr. Dodge would be singled out?"
+
+"I knew, sir, that a good many upper class Men regarded Mr.
+Dodge as being decidedly b. j.," the Virginian admitted reluctantly.
+
+"Then you attribute this affair to Mr. Dodge's unpopularity with
+some of the upper class menl"
+
+"I wouldn't say, sir, that Mr. Dodge is unpopular, but I think, sir,
+that some of the upper class men feel that Mr. Dodge needs taking
+in hand."
+
+"For hazing?"
+
+"For-er-well, sir-for general training."
+
+"That is hazing-nothing more nor less," broke in the K. C. coldly.
+"And we shall leave no stone unturned to stop this hazing and to
+punish all perpetrators of hazing."
+
+"Did Mr. Dodge accept your warningi" continued Captain Vesey.
+
+"He did not, sir.
+
+"Mr. Anstey, on your word as a cadet and a gentleman, you have
+told me all you know of the affair?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"Mr. Prescott, on your word as a cadet and a gentleman, have you
+told me all you know?"
+
+"Yes, sir," Dick replied. "That is, sir, all except what is common
+knowledge to all, yourself included, sir."
+
+"Mr. Holmes, have you any knowledge bearing on this subject, in
+addition to what has been stated by these other cadets?"
+
+"None, sir."
+
+"That is all for the present," nodded Captain Vesey. "You may go."
+
+As soon as the cadets were out of hearing the "tac." turned to the
+K. C.
+
+"The motive back of this outrage on a sentry is all quite clear to
+me, Colonel," spoke the subordinate officer. "Dodge is an
+unpopular and b. j.-ish fellow. He has undoubtedly been making
+his brags. that he 'd bag any yearlings who tried to interfere with
+him on post: Some of the yearlings must have taken up the
+challenge."
+
+"Yet at roll call last night, which was held at once, every cadet
+responded or was properly accounted for," broke in the K. C.'
+savagely.
+
+"Yes, Colonel; but the young men had nearly half an hour in which
+to work.',
+
+"They couldn't have rowed both ways across the Hudson and have
+gotten back into camp in time for that swift roll call," retorted
+Colonel Strong.
+
+"Even that part of the affair doesn't seem very puzzling to me, sir,"
+replied Captain Vasey.  "Assuming that yearlings bagged Mr.
+Dodge, as I think they did, they may have had citizen friends at
+hand to carry out the rest of the affair with a boat. They may even
+have arranged with soldiers belonging to one of the Army
+detachments here."
+
+"The only matter of importance now, Captain Vesey, is to find out
+just which cadets, if cadets were engaged in the outrage, seized
+Mr. Dodge on his post."
+
+"In ferreting them out, Colonel, I will follow to the last extremity
+any instructions yon may give me, sir," promised Captain Vesey.
+
+The K. C. tugged hard at his moustache, then scowled harder than
+before.
+
+"What do you think the chances are, Vesey, of our finding the
+perpetrators?"
+
+"Frankly, Colonel, I don't think we have a chance in a million,
+unless some yearling concerned in the matter voluntarily
+confesses."
+
+"A yearling voluntarily confess!" snorted file K. C. rising. "Bah!"
+
+Captain Vesey smiled after his superior officer had stalked out of
+the tent. It is just barely possible that the younger officer,
+remembering some prank of his own yearling days, wasn't
+extraordinarily anxious to detect yearlings in an offense that would
+result in depriving the Army of the further services of some very
+bright and resourceful young men.
+
+Hot, dusty, perspiring, first class men, yearlings and plebes came
+back to camp in detachments from various tours of drum [?] and
+instruction. The only cadets who looked at all fresh were the
+members of the guard, who were excused from the day's drills. Yet
+for these returning ones, late in the afternoon of a hot day, there
+was no immediate rest. Some of the cadets came back in service
+clothes, others in khaki, still others in field costume of campaign
+hat, flannel shirt, gray trousers and leggins. Immediately the young
+men in all these varieties of uniform disappeared within their tents.
+There was a subdued sound of great bustle. Then, almost in the
+same instant, it seemed, cadets stepped from the various tents into
+the open. Each was immaculate, very nearly glorious in spotless,
+faultlessly pressed white duck trousers, topped by the gray
+full-dress coat and hat. Each cadet carried his rifle now, except for
+the cadet officers, who wore their swords.
+
+With almost dizzying speed, after the return and the dressing, the
+assembly waas sounded. The company to which Dick and his
+mates belonged was then, at the command, formed and inspected,
+marched across the plain, over to the parade ground, where
+hundreds of girls, in bright-hued dresses, and other visitors to West
+Point awaited their coming.
+
+With the cadet adjutant and cadet sergeant-major in place as
+guides, the company came to its place in battalion formation.
+Other companies marched in, and parade rest was ordered. Now, at
+the command, a few movements in the manual of arms were
+executed, the battalion presenting a beautiful line of gray, white
+and flashing steel. Next the band, playing gayly, marched from left
+of line, before the battalion, halting in place beyond the right of
+line. Fifes and drums sounded the retreat. The sunset gun boomed
+over the hollow beyond; down came the Stars and Stripes on one
+more day of national life, while the band played "The Star
+Spangled Banner" and all the men and boys among the spectators,
+including several on-looking Army officers, uncovered their heads,
+standing rigidly at attention. It was an awe-inspiring moment to
+one who could feel the thrill of patriotism. This whole ceremony
+of dress parade bad about it the impressive solemnity of religious
+worship.
+
+There were yet some more formalities. Then the young men were
+marched back. A few minutes after the sunset gun the men were
+once more in their own company streets, and, for all cadets except
+those of the guard, the work day was over. In the evening there
+was to be a cadet hop at Cullom Hall, at which many of the bright-
+faced girls who bad watched dress parade would be present. The
+evening after there would be a band concert in camp. So the nights
+of the cadet summer were passed.
+
+But the hops were not for the plebes. They could dance only in the
+day time, under the watchful eyes of the dancing instructor, for
+every plebe must take dancing lessons in summer until he has been
+pronounced qualified. To a cadet hop, though there is no official
+rule against it, no plebe ever presumes to go. Nor may he, for that
+matter, mingle in the social life with the young lady visitors at the
+post. He may try it, of course, but no well-informed girl will allow
+a plebe to take the chances. If a plebe is caught actually paying
+attention to any young woman the upper class men take care of
+him in their own effective way. A plebe, like any other cadet, must
+show courtesy to any woman who addresses him; beyond that the
+young man must not go during his plebedom. "Flirtation Week" is
+close by, but no plebe ever dares to stroll there.
+
+This being the night of the hop, the upper class men were busy
+with their toilets as soon as they returned from supper; or as many
+of them were as had arranged to "drag a femme" to the hop. This is
+cadet parlance for escorting a young lady to the dance. However,
+some upper class men notoriously avoid attending hops.
+
+"It's a fine thing, isn't it," growled Greg that evening, "to take a
+lot of dancing lessons every week, and then, when the night comes
+around, to stroll through the company streets and listen to the
+orchestra in the distance."
+
+"I'm not complaining," Dick replied.
+
+"Yet you used to be fond of dancing."
+
+"I am now."
+
+"Then why don't you yearn to go to a hop?"
+
+"I do. But see here, Greg. The fellow makes the best soldier, in the
+end, I'll wager, who learns to keep his greatest desires in check. All
+the restrictions thrown around the plebe by custom are intended to
+make him the better man, soldier and officer by teaching him to
+wait until his time comes."
+
+"I congratulate you, mister," spoke a low but hearty voice from the
+doorway of a tent the two plebes were passing. "You're coming on,
+mister. Grin and bear it. You'll be happy one of these days!"
+
+Dick and Greg glanced backward over their shoulders to see that
+the speaker was Mr. Reynolds, member of the new first class and a
+cadet captain. Reynolds usually attended the hops. But for to-night
+he had only a telegram in the breast of his coat in the place of the
+cherished "femme" whom he had hoped to "drag." As he stood in
+his doorway, looking up at the inscrutable stars, Cadet Captain
+Reynolds was taking his own lesson in patient waiting.
+
+"Thank you, sir," Dick replied in a low tone, then faced front again.
+
+That night another plebe was on post number three during the tour
+ending at midnight. He was not molested, however, which was
+most fortunate for mischief-loving yearlings, for the K. C. had
+stationed two tacs. in hiding close by, to be promptly on hand in
+case of any attempted trouble.
+
+A few nights later it came Dick Prescott's turn to take the late tour
+on post number three, He was both apprehensive and watchful, but
+when the relief picked him up at midnight he had no report of any
+kind to make.
+
+It was well enough known throughout cadet camp that the
+superintendent and all his sub-ordinates were bent sternly on
+stopping or severely punishing any attempts to interfere with
+sentries.
+
+As the weeks of hard work passed, and no more mysteries fell over
+post number three it began to be felt that plebes might thereafter
+walk there on the darkest night without worry.
+
+One day in July Dick found himself again on guard, with post
+number three for the "ghosts promenade"'-that is, the tour ending
+at midnight.
+
+"Don't feel too secure, will you, old man?" begged Anstey. "Watch
+out, just the same, won't youl"
+
+"I always take that post as though it were one of especial danger,"
+Dick answered seriously.
+
+Which was well indeed, for Yearlings Davis, Graham and Ponitney
+were even then plotting behind the walls of their tent.
+
+CHAPTER XIII  THE SENTRY MAKES A CAPTURE
+
+POST number one! Eleven o'clock, and all's well."
+
+"Post number two!  Eleven o'clock, and all's well!"
+
+Cadet Prescott, midway on his post, came to a halt, bringing his
+rifle to port arms.
+
+"Post number three! Eleven o'clock, and all's well."
+
+Nor did the plebe return his rifle to his shoulder and resume pacing
+until he heard the hail taken up and repeated by the man on
+number four. Thus the call traveled the rounds, back to number
+one, and died out.
+
+Just an instant later Plebe Prescott became suspicious that
+something was wrong in his immediate vicinity.
+
+Rain was threatening, and the sultry night was so dark that, on this
+shaded post, the young sentry could see barely a few yards away
+from him.
+
+Yet Dick was certain he saw something flash darkly by, not far
+away. It could hardly have been a shadow. Whatever it was, a
+clump of bushes now concealed the moving something.
+
+"Halt! Who's there?" hailed Cadet Prescott. He stopped to listen,
+bringing his rifle once more down to port arms.
+
+There was no response.
+
+Certain, however, that his senses had not been deluded, the young
+sentry stepped quickly toward the clump of bushes.
+
+From the other side of the bushes came a sudden sound of
+scrambling.
+
+"Halt!  Who's there?" demanded Prescott again.
+
+Whoever it was, and plainly there was more than one man there,
+the prowlers had no mind to be held up by the sentry or the guard.
+
+"Halt, or I'll run a bayonet into you!" shouted Prescott resolutely.
+"Corporal of the guard, post number three!" he bellowed aloud.
+
+At the same time he was darting after the fugitives, whom it was
+too dark to distinguish. From the very little that his eyes could
+make out, however; it was his belief that the running men were
+cadets.
+
+Then one must have stumbled and fallen, for a figure lay between
+two bushes as Prescott dashed up.
+
+"Don't you attempt to rise until you get the word, or you'll feel the
+jab of my bayonet," warned Dick.
+
+He couldn't follow the others much further, anyway, as he had no
+authority to leave his post. The man on number four must have
+heard, and would be alert.
+
+"Where are you, number three sentry!" came Cadet Corporal
+Brodie's hail.
+
+"Here, sir!" Dick answered. He still stood watching the figure that
+lay in the shadow of the bushes.  The fallen one had not attempted
+to move.  Dick Prescott was close enough to make a thrust with his
+bayonet-tipped rifle if the fallen one made any effort to leap up.
+
+That was as close as Dick intended to get until help was at hand,
+for an old trick with cadets running the guard on a dark night on
+this lonely stretch was to wait until the sentry got close enough,
+then to reach out and grab him by the ankles, throwing him.
+
+Always, when such a trick was played successfully, the offender
+would be up, off and safe by the time the thrown sentry was on his
+own feet again.
+
+So Prescott, without in the least intending to let his prisoner get
+away, did not venture close enough to risk being pitched over on
+his back himself.
+
+"Poor old skylarker, too!  I'm sorry for him," muttered Dick, under
+his breath. "I'm afraid this spells trouble for some yearling."
+
+"What can I do, though? I show my own unfitness if I let anyone run
+the guard past me."
+
+"Call again, sentry on three!" directed the voice of Corporal
+Brodie.
+
+"Here, sir," Dick answered.
+
+Then to the spot ran the corporal, followed by two men of the
+guard.
+
+"Two or more men attempted to cross this post, sir," Dick
+reported. "One tripped, and I'm holding him."
+
+"Head him off, if he attempts to run ahead," directed Mr. Brodie,
+nodding to one of his men of the guard. "Now, then, get up, and let
+us see whether you're a cadet, or only a banker's son."
+
+But the figure did not rise.
+
+"Get up, sir, I tell you," ordered Corporal Brodie, slowly stepping
+past Prescott.
+
+But the figure did not stir.
+
+"Perhaps the man fell and stunned himself," muttered Brodie.
+Passing his rifle to his left hand the corporal parted the bushes,
+then bent over the prostrate one.
+
+"Oh, hang you!" growled the cadet corporal. He seized the figure
+with his right hand, yanked it upward, then hurled it out, letting it
+fall again across the post.
+
+"Is that the man you stopped, Mr. Prescott?" demanded Corporal
+Brodie in disgust.
+
+But instead of answering, at that moment, Dick straightened up,
+brought his rifle to port, and hailed:
+
+"Haft! Who's there?"
+
+"The officer of the day," came out of the blackness.
+
+"Advance, officer of the day, to be recognized," Dick replied.
+
+Forward out of the deep shadow came Cadet Captain Reynolds.
+
+"What's the trouble, Corporal? "inquired the latest arrival.
+
+"Mr. Prescott reports that two or more persons attempted to run
+across his post, sir. He overtook one, who stumbled. Mr. Prescott
+was guarding his prisoner as I arrived, sir, and that was the
+prisoner!"
+
+Corporal Hasbrouck pointed in disdain at the stuffed figure that he
+had hauled out from under the bushes and Dick's bayonet.
+
+"A stuffed figure, in gray trousers and shirt, eh?" questioned
+Captain Reynolds.  "Sentry, were the two or three men who got
+away from you of the same composition?"
+
+"I don't know, sir, "Dick answered, with mortification. "All I know,
+sir, is that those who got away ran pretty fast, and made so little
+noise that they doubtless wore rubber-soled shoes."
+
+"You've been hoaxed, sentry," commented the officer of the day
+dryly. "Corporal, have your men of the guard bring the prisoner up
+to the guard tent. Sentry, if any more straw men attempt to cross
+your post, bring them down as well as you did this one. The straw
+men who got away from you made their way into camp, didn't
+they?"
+
+"Whoever escaped, sir, got into camp all right."
+
+As the guard-house party returned, Dick resumed the pacing of
+number three. He felt his face still blazing, from the quiet ridicule
+of the officer of the day.
+
+"I'll catch it to-morrow from everyone who thinks me worth
+noticing," growled the plebe to himself. "However, though I tried
+to do my full duty, I'm glad that was what I caught. I wouldn't care
+to march a comrade in, a prisoner."
+
+When the midnight relief came around, and Prescott's relief was
+posted in his place, the young plebe knew the ordeal ahead of him.
+
+As soon as the relieved squad was halted at the guard tent, and
+Dick entered to get himself a cup of coffee and a sandwich or two,
+his glance fell upon the stuffed figure, which reposed on the floor
+at the back of the tent as though it had been a veritable prisoner.
+
+"Did you shoot it, Prescott?" asked Derwent, the man who had just
+been relieved on number four.
+
+"No; he lassoed it with his neck-tie," jeered another man of the
+guard.
+
+"Wonder if the prisoner is hungry!" pursued Derwent. "Prescott,
+the prisoner is yours. Attend to his feeding.  And the poor fellow
+should have some proper bedding, too, a chilly night like this."
+
+"A merciful soldier wouldn't eat until he had seen his prisoner
+fed," tantalized another.
+
+Dick had his cup of coffee at his mouth.
+
+"Prescott, old man," commented fat Smith, "you'll be commended
+in general orders for distinguished bravery."
+
+That was enough, in itself, to make Dick choke, but Smith
+emphasized his remark by slapping Dick on the back. An ounce of
+hot coffee, at least, "went down the wrong way" Choking and
+gasping for breath, trying to expel the coffee from his windpipe,
+and all the while obliged to lean well forward so as not to expel
+any of the coffee over the front of his blouse, Dick, thought he
+never would get his breath again.
+
+"Instead of feeding his prisoner, I believe Mr. Prescott has been
+eating some of his prisoner," observed Corporal Hasbrouck dryly.
+"Mr. Prescott, himself, appears to be full of straw at present."
+
+The general laugh that followed didn't make it any easier for the
+victim of all this nonsense. In laughing again Dick choked so that
+he began to turn slightly black.
+
+"Dry up, you hyenas!" ordered Cadet Captain Reynolds, as he
+rushed to Prescott's relief. In a few moments the late sentry on
+number three was breathing easily again. He threw himself down
+on a mattress, and was soon asleep.
+
+But in the morning he had to go through the ordeal ten-fold. As
+Dick went to his tent to change some articles of clothing Bert
+Dodge appeared in the company street.
+
+"Hey, mister," called yearling Davis, after Bert, "I hear good news.
+Last night the guard caught the chap who shanghaied you."
+
+Even Greg and Anstey were prepared to quiz the "hero" of the
+comic episode of the night before.
+
+"That was a fine comic opera performance, old chap," grinned
+Anstey.
+
+"The next time you arrest a lay figure," suggested Greg, "at least be
+good enough to capture one that's stuffed with lemons."
+
+"Oh, the straw figure was a lemon, of a kind," laughed the
+Virginian.
+
+"Did the prisoner yell when you pricked point of your bayonet in
+its flesh of husks?" Greg wanted to know,
+
+"Do you expect the K. C. to mention you in orders for
+distinguished gallantry?" demanded Anstey.
+
+"Or to skin you on a suspicion of stealing straw from the artillery
+stables?" snickered Greg.
+
+"I know one funny thing about straw, anyway," declared Anstey,
+turning' around to Holmes.
+
+"What?" asked Greg.
+
+"It's bound to tickle you," declared the Virginian gravely.
+
+Even at breakfast, in the cadet mess, Dick failed to get away from
+his tormentors. One of the yearlings, seated at a table not far from
+the one at which Prescott sat, called out to a classmate:
+
+"Queer thing about that prisoner bagged on number three last
+night. Did you hear who the prisoner turned out to be?"
+
+'No-o-o," drawled the other yearling, while a hundred pairs of eyes
+were turned on flame-faced Prescott.
+
+"It was the class president of the beasts" (plebes).
+
+"Kind of tough fate for the prisoner, though," railed another.
+
+"What's that?"
+
+"He's been sentenced to death. He is to be used as a target for the
+plebe squads in target practice."
+
+"That isn't a sentence of death; it's a guarantee of safety."
+
+This last sally turned the laugh on the entire plebe class. Dick
+flushed worse than-ever when he saw many of his classmates
+begin to squirm.
+
+"They might, at least, take it all out on me, and leave the class
+alone," muttered Dick to himself.
+
+"Where are you going so fast, mister?" hailed a yearling, after the
+return to camp, as he beheld a plebe hurrying down a company
+street.
+
+"I'm summoned as a witness before the general court-martial,"
+called back Mr. Plebe, over his shoulder.
+
+"Court-martial? I hadn't heard there was to be one."
+
+"Yes, sir; they're going to try the prisoner caught on number three,
+sir."
+
+The yearling turned away grinning, for once not deeming it
+necessary to rebuke a "beast" for attempting to make a smart
+answer.
+
+Out on the range, at target practice, two mornings, later, Dick did
+some especially bad shooting.
+
+"Don't be afraid of hitting the target, Mr. Prescott," advised
+Lieutenant Gerould dryly. "It's made of something more substantial
+than straw."
+
+A gleeful roar went up from some of the other "beasts."
+Lieutenant Gerould eyed them in surprise, for this Army officer
+was one of the few at West Point who had not already heard of
+number three sentry's capture.
+
+It was a fortnight ere Cadet Prescott could feel really secure
+against more "joshing" over the incident.
+
+"I'm better satisfied than if we had done what we set out to do to
+that plebe," remarked Yearling Davis to his tentmates.
+
+"Mr. Prescott is a rather decent sort-for a mere plebe," replied
+Poultney. "Do you know, I think he's almost glad that he caught the
+dummy we rigged for him. I believe the little beast would have
+hated to catch a uniform stuffed with human flesh."
+
+CHAPTER XIV  POOR GREG CAN'T EXPLAIN
+
+THE weeks slipped by, though not without the friction of sincerely
+hard work.
+
+Dick, Greg and many of their classmates, toiling, marching,
+drilling under the hot sun that shone on the West Point plain and
+drill areas, acquired deep coats of manly tan on faces, necks and
+hands.
+
+In many a story of West Point life the summer encampment is
+made to appear "the good old summer time" of an Army career.
+The West Point cadet knows better. It is a season of the hardest
+work.
+
+At an hour when most city-dwelling boys are turning over in bed
+for another long and luxurious "snooze" the West Point cadet is up
+and doing in earnest.
+
+There is much instruction that the young man has to absorb.
+Merely to take part is not enough. The young man must make
+himself proficient in such branches of the soldier's art as cavalry
+tactics, drill, horsemanship, scouting, artillery tactics and drill,
+with drill at the guns of different calibers, and target practice with
+field, siege, mountain, mortar, howitzer and seacoast guns, with a
+lot of work in the service of mines.
+
+Infantry tactics, with unceasing drill and a lot of target practice,
+provide a great amount of work.
+
+Then there is a wide range of work to be mastered in practical
+military engineering, with the building of field fortifications,
+obstacles, spar and trestle bridges, pontoon bridges, military
+reconnoissance and sketching, map-making, surveying, military
+signaling and telegraphy, wireless and telephone service, the
+making of war material, the managing and handling of pack trains,
+field manoeuvres, and-well, it's not a season of ideal play!
+
+It was toward the end of this busy season of outdoor life that Greg
+got into his most serious trouble up to that time, with an upper
+class man.
+
+The day had been unusually hot, even for West Point. Those of the
+upper class men who felt the call to the evening's hop had dressed
+with utmost care and departed for the ballroom and the glances of
+soft eyes.
+
+An unusually large number, however, were in camp this evening.
+
+Tattoo sounds at 9.30.  Men who wish are privileged to make up
+their beds and turn in at this hour. Greg was among the large
+number who went to sleep soon after tatto. this sultry night. For
+that matter, young Holmes was lonely, both Dick and Anstey
+having been drawn for guard duty.
+
+Five minutes after tattoo Yearlings Davis and Ponltney sauntered
+down the company street.
+
+"Suzz-zz! suzz-zz!  Horwack!" came snorously from the tent solely
+occupied by Plebe Holmes.
+
+"Great Washington!" muttered Poultney. "Who smuggled a
+sawmill into camp?"
+
+"The disturbance of the peace comes from this abode of beasts,"
+declared Mr. Davis, halting and thrusting his head into the tent.
+
+Greg did not awaken, but snored on with crescendo effects.
+
+"We ought to teach a beast like that a lesson," whispered Poultney,
+as he, also, stared in at the unconscious but offending Greg.
+
+"How?"
+
+A hurried, whispered conference followed. Right after that Mr.
+Davis tied a stout cord to the tent-pole of the khaki house across
+the company street. Four feet of this cord were supported, in the
+crotches of two imbedded twigs, so that the cord lay about an inch
+and a half above the ground for a space of four feet close to the
+opposite tent. Then the balance of the cord was allowed to lie
+harmless across the cornpany street. The end of the cord these two
+resourceful yearlings tied to a noose. Tiptoeing into Greg's tent
+they slipped the noose over one of Greg's forefingers.
+
+If, within the next few minutes, any passersby used that company
+street, they plainly must have passed on Greg's side of the
+thoroughfare, and thus have avoided fouling with the cord.
+
+Cadets who "drag femnies" to hop, and who have to escort their
+fair partners to hotel, or to some officer's house on the post, must
+go from Cullum Hall with their fair charges, leave them at the
+destined gate, and then return to camp, all within a stated,
+scheduled time.
+
+The time it properly takes to walk from Cullum Hall to the hotel
+grounds, or to any officer's house, is all scheduled and kept track
+of at the guard tent. The young man thus returning to camp after
+taps reports to what building he escorted his "femme," and the
+time of his return is noted on the guard report. If the cadet has
+overstayed his time he is called to account for it the next day.
+
+Yearling Butler had "dragged" this evening. He made guard tent on
+time, after a quick walk back to camp. Reporting, Mr. Butler saw
+the time noted by the amanuensis of the guard.
+
+Then, feeling really sleepy, the yearling continued at a rather brisk
+walk to the head of his company street, and turned down.
+
+Just as luck would have it Mr. Butler did not pass on Greg's side of
+the street, but passed rather close to the tent opposite.
+
+Certainly the yearling's eyes were not on the ground. He saw not
+the cord on this side of the street.
+
+There was a catch, a trip, and Mr. Butler went to the ground,
+mussing the knees of his spoon jest pair of white ducks. Moreover,
+he cut the palm of his right hand, slightly, on a sharp pebble.
+
+The pulling on the cord gave Greg's right hand a sharp yank,
+awakening the innocent plebe.
+
+But Mr. Butler, having swiftly discovered the cord, and having
+ascertained in what direction it ran, made a dive into the tent just
+in time to see Greg sitting up on his mattress, holding the cord.
+
+"So, mister," gruffed the yearling, "is this the way you amuse
+yourself late at night?"
+
+"Why-what-" stammered Cadet Holmes. "Now, don't try any of
+that on me," urged Mr. Butler angrily.  "Mister, you're caught with
+the freight in your possession. What are you holding that cord for,
+sir?"
+
+"I-I don't know, sir," quavered Greg, who was just beginning to
+feel awake after his rudely disturbed slumber.
+
+"You-don 't-know!" retorted Mr. Butler, in high dudgeon.
+
+"What-what has happened, sir?" inquired Greg.
+
+To Mr. Butler this seemed very much like adding insult to injury.
+
+"You thought it was funny, did you, mister, to rig a cord across the
+company street?" raged the yearling, though he kept his voice
+down to a gentlemanly pitch. "You play tricks like that on upper
+class men. Of all the b. j. imps that ever put on gray! Mister, all I'm
+sorry for is that the officer of the day, or the O.C. didn't trip over
+your cord! Or the K. C. himself!"
+
+"Now, I want to understand this, sir, con-tended Cadet Hoimes,
+rising from his mattress and stepping forward. "I've just been
+aroused out of a sound sleep, and I find myself with a cord tied to
+one of my fingers."
+
+"Oh, you do, mister?" jeered Mr. Butler harshly.
+
+"And you, sir, come into this tent and accuse me of something.
+What I am anxious to know, sir, is what it is that I am accused of."
+
+"See here, mister, I've no more time to waste on a b. j. beast.
+You've spoiled my best white ducks, and, incidentally, my temper.
+You cormpound this by adding more b. j.-ety. If you don't know
+what I'm going to do about it, wait until you hear from me, mister!"
+
+Turning, very erect and stiff, in his outraged dignity, Mr. Butler
+left the tent.
+
+"Now, what on earth have I done, anyway?" wondered Greg.
+
+In his perplexity he stepped to the doorway of his tent. He saw the
+business-like arrangement of the cord, and all was clear to him,
+now.
+
+"Some hazer has rigged that cord and tied one end to my finger,"
+gasped Plebe Holmes.
+
+Then a grin overspread his face.
+
+"Well, it was mighty clever, anyway."
+
+An instant more, and the grin gave place to a serious look.
+
+"Clever or not, it certainly spells trouble for me."
+
+When the cadets returned from breakfast in the morning, and while
+Greg was finishing the donning of field uniform for a forenoon of
+drill, a shadow fell across the doorway of the tent.
+
+Prescott and Anstey were still members of the guard, and therefore
+absent.
+
+"Mr. Holmes, I wish to speak with you," announced Mr. Haldane,
+of the yearling class.
+
+"Will you come in, sir?"
+
+Haldane stepped just inside the tent, standing severely erect and
+gazing coldly at the plebe.
+
+"Mr. Butler demands a fight with you, mister, and as early as
+possible."
+
+There was no mention of possible apology. Evidently Mr. Butler
+considered the affair one that could be remedied only by blows.
+
+"Mr. Haldane, I don't wish to ask much delay. But the two friends
+whom I shall want to represent me are on guard duty at present.
+May I ask that you see Mr. Prescott?"
+
+"Very good," acknowledged Mr. Haldane, and left the tent.
+
+"Now, I'm in for it," muttered Greg ruefully. "And the queer part of
+it is that I have to fight for a thing that I never did. But I'm not
+going to make any denials; now, unless Dick advises it."
+
+It was evening, after the cadets had returned from supper, when
+Mr. Haldane appeared and asked for Prescott. The two stepped
+outside together, walking a little distance away to make the
+necessary arrangements.
+
+Dick was already in possession of the few facts that Greg had to
+tell him. Dick bad advised against denying the prank, for the
+present, anyway.
+
+"It would look like playing the baby act," Prescott had explained to
+his chum, and in this view Anstey agreed.
+
+Mr. Haldane and Dick came to a speedy understanding. The fight
+was to take place the next morning, at the first peep of daylight.
+
+Promptly, however, the affair became noised about through camp.
+
+Butler was a considerably larger man than Greg, and looked in
+every way more powerful. Cadet Corporal Atwater, who was
+president of the yearling class, went to see Mr. Butler promptly.
+
+At least, Butler, if you insist that the fight must be fought, let the
+scrap committee choose one of our class who is down nearer to the
+plebe's size," urged Mr. Atwater.
+
+"Under ordinary conditions, old fellow, I'd be tickled to do it,"
+replied Mr. Butler. "But, in a trick of this kind, I couldn't get any
+satisfaction out of anyone else hammering the b j. beast who put
+up such a tumble for me."
+
+"I'm thinking the scrap committee may interfere with. your plans,"
+rejoined Atwater, shaking his head. "We don't want fighting to
+degenerate into the appearance of bullying oppression of beasts."
+
+"I'll have to abide by the decision of the scrap committee, of
+conrse," admitted Butler. "But I hope the fellows won't interfere."
+
+Cadet Corporal Atwater promptly called the scrap committee
+together.  Many newspaper writers, through ignorance, have
+condenmed  the existence of a scrap committee at West Point,
+claiming that it foments fights. The truth is that the scrap
+committee is a court of honor, formed for adjusting. nice
+questions, and for preventing unfair fighting.
+
+Cadet Butler was summoned before the scrap committee, and
+stated his case. The decision of the scrap committee was that a
+fight would have to take place, but that Mr. Holmes was privileged
+to request the scrap committee to name a yearling who was
+Holmes's own size and weight, this substitute to fight in Mr.
+Butler's place at once.
+
+Cadet Corporal Atwater thereupon promptly called at Greg's tent,
+and stated the decision to the three tentmates.
+
+"Mr. Prescott will answer for me, sir" Greg replied respectfully.
+
+"Sir," Dick answered, "we appreciate the decision of the scrap
+committee. We recognize that we are being used with the utmost
+fairness, and that all Mr. Holmes's  rights are being safeguarded in
+the most honorable manner.  Yet, sir, this fight has a peculiar
+basis. More so than with most fights, I believe, sir, this is a purely
+personal one.  Mr. Holmes, therefore, is prepared, sir, to give
+personal satisfaction. While the odds are very distinctly against
+him, he wishes to show that he can take his trouncing like a cadet
+and a gentleman. So, sir, with renewed assurances of our thanks
+and appreciation, Mr. Holmes is ready to meet Mr. Butler at
+daylight."
+
+"That is well spoken, sir," replied Mr. Atwater. "I appreciate the
+grit of M. Holmes's decision."
+
+The president of the yearling class went back to acquaint Mr.
+Butler with the outcome.
+
+Until close of taps Greg practiced various blows, feints and dodges
+in foot work.
+
+"You can't win, Greg," advised Anstey. "Of course that's out of the
+question. But, before you have to lose the count you want to make
+sure of giving Mr. Butler enough facial decorations to keep him
+satisfied for some time to come."
+
+At taps the three tentmates lay down on their mattresses, Dick with
+an alarm clock close to his hand.
+
+Cadets Prescott and Anstey were soon sound asleep.  Greg,
+however, lay awake for a long time, thinking-thinking.
+
+"If I had some of Dick's lightning speed, and his capacity for
+sailing in like a cyclonic fury," thought Greg. "Whew, but I wish I
+had always given more attention to boxing than I have done.
+I will after this."
+
+Finally, Greg dozed off. The next he knew was when a brief,
+metallic "br-r-r-r?" sounded in the tent. In another instant Dick had
+the clock and was, smothering the noise.  Greg Holmes leaped up.
+It was the morning of his light!
+
+CHAPTER XV GREG OVERHEARS A PRETTY GIRL'S
+TRIBUTE
+
+IN the tent it was still dark. It was at the fag-end of the night; the
+time which, as military commanders know, most tries men's
+bravery.
+
+The latter part of the night had been cool. Now, in the brief space
+before dawn the air was positively chilly.
+
+Greg shivered.
+
+Perhaps it was the chill of the air. It is also extremely likely that
+Greg Holmes dreaded the conflict that was about to come off with
+big Butler.
+
+Be that as it may, Cadet Holmes went on briskly with his dressing.
+The bravest man is he who, though afraid, goes straight ahead to
+the goal of battle despite his fears.
+
+Greg was more sensitive about blows than was his chum. Until he
+got into the heat of action Cadet Holmes dreaded the very idea of
+giving or taking a blow. There are many soldiers like this; but
+when they get into action they are the bravest of the brave.
+
+Dick and Anstey were also getting themselves swiftly in readiness.
+To Dick, veteran of three West Point fights, the greatest cause for
+regret seemed to lie in being robbed of some of their much-needed
+sleep.
+
+In almost no time, so it seemed, three cadets fully attired in
+uniform, stole cautiously from the tent, slipping down the
+company street.
+
+Dick carried Greg's fighting clothes. Cadet Anstey carried a bucket
+in which lay a sponge.
+
+Whether cadet sentries on guard deliberately aid in letting fight
+parties slip across a post it would be impossible to say. Certain it is
+that Mr. Prescott, in the lead, reconnoitred carefully, then crossed
+the post at the point furthest from the sentry's half-audible
+footsteps. His two friends slipped over with him.
+
+The faint gray of earliest dawn was just showing through the trees
+when the plebe trio came in sight of the famous hollow below old
+Fort Clinton.
+
+Here already paced Mr. Plympton and Mr. Connors of the first
+class. They were to take charge of the affair.
+
+"Good morning, mister," nodded Mr. Plympton to Dick, as
+Prescott came in sight at the head of his party. Greg and Anstey
+came in for no particular notice from the first class men.
+
+"Hullo, But!"
+
+"Hullo, old Conjunction!"
+
+These were the greetings that Butler received when he appeared,
+followed by Haldane and Post. These young men, being yearlings,
+were actually human beings. At least, that was the way the plebes
+felt.
+
+Now the stripping began rapidly. Each principal drew on a
+sleeveless jersey and gymnasium trousers, the latter secured by a
+belt. On the feet were rubber-soled shoes, as giving the best
+chance for foothold on the damp ground.
+
+The seconds began kneading the muscles of their principals, and
+otherwise putting them in shape.
+
+Mr. Butler yawned two or three times, appearing slightly bored.
+Greg did not glance in the direction of his coming antagonist, but
+Holmes's face was impassive, inscrutable. He did not appear
+nervous. The moment had come, and Greg faced the situation
+dumbly but absolutely without fear.
+
+Then the principals were placed in their corners. Referee Plympton
+stated the terms under which the meeting was to be held. Then at
+the call, the two cadets leaped forward.
+
+"Remember the moves we planned last night," had been Dick's last
+whispered words.
+
+On Butler's face rested a broad grin. He pranced about lightly,
+swinging his hardmuscled arms. He intended to start with a bit of
+easy nonsense, putting Holmes off his guard. Then the' yearling's
+plan was to make the affair a lesson in scientific mauling.
+
+While Butler was dancing about, grinning, Greg, vastly more
+watchful than he appeared to be, suddenly let his right out in a
+feint, then followed with a left drive.
+
+Butler all but struck this blow up, yet, as he darted back from the
+parry, the yearling tasted blood from his own lower lip.  That
+taught him that even a despised little plebe like Mr. Holmes might
+have his points of danger.
+
+"Now, stand up and let us see how good your quick counter is,"
+laughed the yearling, dancing about.
+
+Butler's footwork was fine and fast, but Greg, watching him, only
+pivoted about, putting up his hands with great speed. Thus Greg
+blocked all but three or four lighter blows up to the time when the
+time-keeper's interruption came.
+
+"You won't need to do much in the rubbing line," whispered Greg,
+as his seconds started in on him in his "corner." "My man, as yet,
+hasn't any more than warmed me up."
+
+"Look out for a smash on the nose, old fellow,  warned Dick. "You
+got first blood in a half-sort of way, by that cut on the other man's
+lip. In this next round Mr. Butler will try to get the real first
+blood."
+
+"I hope so," muttered Greg dreamily. "For that one I believe I have
+one of the best counters known."
+
+Surely enough, in the beginning of the second round, Butler
+feinted, then led off for a hard one on the plebe's nose. But the
+delivery was the very one that Cadet Holmes wanted. He ducked,
+feinted, and slammed in just above Mr. Butler's belt with such
+force that the big yearling staggered. Yet Butler was a wary
+fighter; he blocked Greg's follow-up scheme, then fought for time.
+Towards the end of the round, however, Butler again tried for the
+plebe's nose. This time he failed again, but Greg's counter-blow
+landed on the point of a shoulder. Butler would have been away in
+another instant, but Greg's right came out of a hook and tapped the
+yearling emphatically on the end of his nose. As the yearling
+fought back furiously the blood spurted from his nose.
+
+Then, just before time was called, Greg got his left eye too much
+in line with the yearling's right fist.
+
+Dazed, Cadet Holmes was saved only by the word from the
+time-keeper.  Had the round lasted fifteen seconds more Mr. Butler
+would have had the plebe out.
+
+Erect, and as jauntily went back to his corner.
+
+"I reckon you've got as a bad looking window here," murmured
+Anstey sympathetically, as he swabbed at the damaged surface
+around the eye. "Make it short, Holmesy, or you're going to meet
+with more damage, I reckon."
+
+"This is the last serious smash that Greg is going to take," put in
+Dick coolly. "In the third he's going to remember the old Gridley
+fighting principle: Greg, you simply can't be whipped. Now, wade
+in and seize hold of Mr. Butler's scalp-lock."
+
+Soon the fighters were at it again. Two or three body blows Greg took,
+and they stung, coming from such steam-driven fists as the yearling's.
+But Mr. Holmes's damaged left eye was closing rapidly.  He was forced
+to squint through that eye, getting most of his sight through the
+right. Of course, the yearling, who now realized he had something more
+than a dummy to fight, manoeuvred at Greg's left side after that.
+
+The third round was drawing to a close. Butler landed one on the
+side of young Holmes's head that sent the plebe spinning. Yet, as
+he swung, Greg dropped a hard blow on Mr. Butler's already
+damaged nose. There was a gasp of pain from the yearling.
+
+"Time!" called Mr. Connors.
+
+Greg went back to his seconds, a good deal jarred, his wind
+troubled, and his left eye rapidly assuming a most ugly look. One
+more really good" one from the larger fighter would put. the plebe
+out of the affair.
+
+"Be cool, now, old chap," admonished Dick in an undertone, as he
+and Anstey worked over their comrade. "The next round probably
+decides it.',
+
+"Cool!" grimaced Cadet Holmes. "Why, I guess I am everywhere
+except in my punished eye. That feels like a red-hot furnace!"
+
+As the men faced each other for the fourth round Greg, through
+his right eye, saw. a look of intent in Butler's eye that meant
+business. The yearling was now going in, in earnest, to wind up
+this affair.
+
+"I'm going to get something out of this!" grumbled Cadet Holmes
+inwardly.
+
+As Butler came at him, swift and terrible, Cadet Holmes formed
+the purpose of playing off a block to be followed by a direct and
+sure assault on one of his man's eyes. And presently the chance
+came. Greg bounced in so resolutely over Butler's right eye that the
+yearling staggered back, fighting for sight and wind. But Greg,
+who knew it was thrash-or-be-thrashed, was merciless. He leaped
+about, harassing his opponent, then sent in a well-calculated blow
+that closed the yearling's other eye.
+
+Butler reeled. It looked as though he must go down. Greg,
+unwilling to take any unfair advantage, paused a second. Then,
+realizing that Mr. Butler was keeping his feet, Cadet Holmes
+leaped in, feinting blow after blow with such speed that the
+yearling was dazed. Suddenly, with a new feint for the yearling's
+solar plexus, Holmes suddenly raised, driving in hard on the left
+side of Mr. Butler's jaw. That sent the dazed man down. He went
+in a heap, then unfolded and lay limp.
+
+Time-keeper Connors began to count, though perfunctorily. There
+was no reason to believe that Mr. Butler could wake up in time,
+and he didn't. Mr. Plympton, in a cold tone, awarded the fight to
+the plebe. Butler's seconds went to work over him, but it was some
+minutes before they brought him back to consciousness. By this
+time Greg was dressed.
+
+"Mr. Butler," murmured Greg, bending over his at last conscious
+opponent, "I would like to say a word-now. That business with the
+cord was a trick put up on me, not on you. You were only the
+incidental victim. I had no willing or knowing part in your
+discomfiture. I tell you this now, sir, after having proved that I
+wasn't afraid merely of being called out. I am trmendously sorry
+that this fight had to be."
+
+"You held up your end all right, mister," was the yearling's concise
+tribute.
+
+Then, after sending Anstey back to camp with the officials, Dick
+accompanied Greg to cadet hospital, where the latter's eye was
+dressed and "painted out" as much as could be.
+
+Both of Mr. Butler's seconds were required to help him to hospital
+Nor did the yearling get out very soon. His jaw had not been
+fractured, but for some days the medical officers feared
+"green-stick" fracture, with a consequent danger of suppuration. It
+was not until after the end of the encampment that the yearling
+was discharged from hospital.
+
+"Where's Mr. Butler to-night?" inquieed a very pretty girl, as she
+strolled through camp in the evening, between two attentive
+yearlings. She was the same whom Butler had last accompanied to
+a hop.
+
+"Mr. Butler is in hospital," replied Mr. McGraw.
+
+"Yes, and pounded to such a pulp that his mother wouldn't know
+him," laughed a young "cit.," the girl's cousin. "Over there is
+Holmes, the plebe who did it."
+
+"What a disgusting brute Mr. Holmes must be!" muttered the girl
+indignantly, and Greg, hearing her, colored violently, but could not
+reply. Plebes are not allowed the acquaintance of the young ladies.
+
+CHAPTER XVI  TAPE SOUNDS ON SUMMER
+
+CADET DODGE spent the last days of the encampment on sick
+report.
+
+He got word that Mr. Poultney was one of the yearlings concerned
+in his discomfiture on post number three, and boldly confronted
+the yearling with the charge.
+
+In the fight that followed Dodge received a fearful walloping from
+Mr. Poultney.
+
+The laws of courtesy are enforced by these fights. A new man,
+entering the United States Military Academy, often has a most
+exaggerated idea of his own importance and merits. In some
+instances the new cadet is likely to disregard the rights of upper
+class men. A fight puts the offending plebe where he belongs.
+Further, the knowledge that he will have to fight for every serious
+infraction of the rules of courtesy results in quickly making a
+disciplined soldier and considerate gentleman out of the cadet who
+is inclined to be bumptious.
+
+In the training of personal character it may readily be believed that
+the cadet's plebe year, with its "chalk-line" and repression, is worth
+all the rest of the time spent at West Point.
+
+Milk-sops and peace-at-any-price. advocates may as well turn their
+attention away from West Point. These ultra-peaceable ones, who
+long for the promotion of peace through the abolition of all armies,
+have at hand an experiment that can be carried out only on a
+smaller scale.
+
+Let these peace-at-any-price agitators, in a given community, set
+about to stamp out crime by abolishing the police force!  An army
+is merely a force of international policemen.
+
+                            *       *       *       *       *       *
+
+In the last days of August the furloughed new second class
+returned. The young men, after reporting at the adjutant's office at
+the required hour, formed and marched to camp, still in "cit."
+clothes.
+
+First and third class men rushed out to receive and congratulate the
+returned travelers, while the plebes stood shyly by. Their welcome
+was not wanted.  Then the second class men disappeared into their
+tents.  They were out again, quickly enough, in white ducks and
+the cadet gray blouses.  They had taken up the cadet life for two
+years more. In the afternoon these second class men swelled the
+ranks of the battalion and went through, with all the old-time
+fervor, the grand old ceremony of dress parade.
+
+That night came the "Show." This annual show at the end of
+August may be either the Camp Illumination or the Color Line
+Entertainment. This year the class presidents had asked for the
+latter.
+
+As soon as dark came on, the Color Line-the central line through
+cadet camp blazed out with lights. Soon after the band began to
+play gayly. Hundreds of visitors, most of them women, and the
+majority quite young women, flocked to camp. Along the color
+line the guns of the battalion were stacked. Over the center of the
+line the colors of the country and the cadet colors were draped
+with beautiful effect. Cadets of the three upper classes escorted the
+visitors through. The plebes stood by their own tents, answering
+when spoken to, which was not often.
+
+After the band had played several selections the musicians moved
+up before a hastily constructed stage. Plays or musical farces,
+written and acted by cadets, are often presented. In Dick's plebe
+summer, however, the choice had been for a minstrel show.
+
+Half an hour before the opening of the performance thirty of the
+cadets vanished to a big dressing tent behind the stage.
+
+Before the stage hundreds of seats had been arranged. Every cadet
+who escorted ladies was privileged to sit with them. Cadets who
+"stagged"' it were expected to stand. All of the plebes were in this
+number.
+
+Presently the cadets, their faces blacked came out of the dressing
+tent, taking their places off the stage. A regulation first part was
+now provided, with the aid of the band playing as an orchestra. In
+style it was the minstrel first part with which we are all familiar.
+There was this difference: The jokes hit off exclusively local
+affairs and conditions. The officers who served as instructors at
+West Point did not by any means escape in the running fire of
+minstrelsy nonsense.
+
+Then came forth a woeful figure, blackfaced and attired in a
+dilapidated uniform. As he turned sideways it was noted that this
+cadet, who was really a rollicking second class man, wore on his
+back a card labeled in large letters:
+
+"Plebe. Please don't mistreat."
+
+At first sight of the pitiable object a roar of laughter went up from
+the spectators. Nowhere was the laughter louder than in the ranks
+of the standing plebes themselves, at the rear of the audience. This
+woeful-looking performer, after the orchestra bad played a few
+preliminary strains, launched into a parody of "Nobody Loves Me."
+The song was full of hits' on the b. j. "beast." The real plebes with
+keen enjoyment.
+
+"Mr. Plescoft !" called  the interlocutor, after the song and two
+encore verses had been sung.
+
+"Yes, sah," falteringly replied the minstrel plebe, turning
+awkwardly and saluting with the wrong hand.
+
+Though the name called was "Plescott," half of the plebe class
+turned to grin at Cadet Richard Prescott.
+
+Dick stood it well, waiting to see what the performer would next
+say.
+
+"Mr. Plescott," continued the interlocutor, "I heard something said
+about you this morning that I didn't in the least like."
+
+"Ye-e-es, sah?" inquired the minstrel plebe falteringly.
+
+"I consider it, Mr. Plescott, a most insulting thing that I heard said
+about you."
+
+"Ye-e-es, sah?" faltered the performer, his knees shaking and his
+eyes rolling in apprehension.
+
+"Mr. Plescott, your defamer said you were not fit to eat with
+Hottentot savages?  I had to call the fellow down severely. Think
+of it, Mr. Plescott-you not fit to eat with Hottentot savages."
+
+"Dat was a mighty mean thing to say, sah. Mought ah ask what yo'
+said to de gemmun?"
+
+"I told your defamer, Mr. Plescott, that he was entirely in error in
+asserting that you are not fit to eat with Hottentot savages. I
+assured him that you were?"
+
+There was a wild whoop of glee from the spectators, especially
+from the other plebes, and Dick, though he laughed heartily,
+reddened when he found himself focused by so many scores. of
+eyes.
+
+Then the singer dropped off into another song, and the nonsense
+went on. After the first part came an olio in which were some fine
+singing, dancing, juggling and other work.
+
+The performance came to an end in time for the cadets and their
+visitors to take another stroll through camp.
+
+Bang! Bang! Bang! A glow and a burst of red fire! There was a
+bewildering maze of pyrotechnics. After five minutes of this the
+fireworks ceased, and, though the camp lights still burned the
+contrast seemed almost like darkness.
+
+The members of the band rose. As the leader's baton fell the notes
+of "The Star Spangled Banner" rose triumphant on the night air. It
+was a glorious sight as a hundred Army officers and five hundred
+United States cadets clicked their heels, stood instantly at
+attention, uncovered their heads and stood with caps held over
+their hearts.
+
+As the strains died out there was an impressive pause. Then, in
+lighter vein, the band rollicked out with the old, familiar, "Good
+Night Ladies," and, laughing merrily, the visitors departed, their
+cadet friends going with them only as far as camp limits.
+
+Out on the plains beyond the visitors again halted for a brief
+instant.
+
+In front of the guard tent a drummer sounded "taps"-three strokes
+on the drum. All but the authorized lights in guard tent and O.C.'s
+tent were extinguished.
+
+The summer encampment was over.
+
+"Oh, dear!" sighed many a fair visitor as she returned to a
+sheltering roof. "The summer's fun is over. To-morrow these
+splendid young men will be back in barracks, grilling and boning
+for their very lives!"
+
+CHAPTER XVII  MR. DODGE GOES CANVASSING
+
+YES, the good old summer time was over. Bending over study
+tables in cadet barracks the young men pored over books and
+papers of their own making.
+
+The first few days seemed fearfully hard. To the young men who
+had been for weeks away from their books it seemed for a while
+all but impossible to pick up the threads of study in a way that
+would anything like satisfy the Army officers who acted as their
+relentless instructors.
+
+"Relentless?" To the average boy in grammar or high school it
+does not seem like a hard-ship to be required to make a percentage
+of at least sixty-six and two-thirds per cent. in all studies. In the
+public schools it seems rather easy to reach that kind of an
+average.
+
+At West Point the markings are on a scale of three, with decimal
+shadings. A man who secures in any study a marking of two is
+deemed proficient. If his average marking in a term is 2.6, he is
+rather highly proficient in that study. A marking of two on a scale
+of three is equivalent to sixty-six and two-thirds per cent., and this
+does not seem, to the outsider, a difficult attainment. But the West
+Point speed of study! In a high school the young man is given the
+whole of the first year in which to qualify in simple algebra; in the
+second year he takes up plane geometry; in the third he comes
+upon solid geometry; in the fourth year of high school work the
+young man masters plane trigonometry and solves allied problems.
+
+At West Point, in the plebe year, the young man, in the first half of
+the year, goes through simple Mgebra and plane and solid
+geometry. In the second half of the year he must force his way
+understandingly through advanced algebra and plane and spherical
+trigonometry! This is his mathematics work merely for the first
+year, yet it is more and more thoroughly covered than the high
+school boy's entire course.
+
+During their first three months of plebedom, and with their course
+behind them in the really fine high school at Gridley, Dick and
+Greg had not found their math. much of a torment. But now, after
+coming back from encampment, these young men began to wake
+up to the fact that West Point mathematics is a giant contrasted
+with the pigmy of public school mathematics. The two chums
+began to put in every minute they could spare over the long,
+bewildering array of problems assigned for each recitation.
+
+"What a curious delusion we had, back at Gridley!" laughed Greg,
+in their room, one night.
+
+"Which particular delusion was that!" Dick demanded, without
+looking up from his geometry.
+
+"Why, we thought our easy old Gridley work in math. was going to
+fit us to race easily through the first two years here!"
+
+"That isn't the only pipe that has burned out in our pockets since
+we became plebes!" grunted Dick.
+
+"Are you going to max it (get a high marking) in math., to-morrow,
+old fellow."
+
+"I'm going to 'fess out (fail) more likely," sighed Dick. "How are
+you coming on, general!"
+
+"I'd give a good deal to be able to ask a first class man how to
+solve the fourth problem on to-morrow's list," groaned Greg.
+
+"I'd show you," sighed Dick, "only I'm afraid I might lead you into
+an ambush where you'd get scalped by the instructor."
+
+In each class, and in every subject of study, the young men are
+divided, for recitation purposes, into sections of eight or ten men.
+In each study the section to which the young man belongs is
+determined by his relative standing in that study. The "banner"
+section is made up of the cadets who stand highest in the class in
+that particular study. At the end of every week the. markings of
+each cadet in every one of his studies is posted, and the sections
+are rearranged, if need be. The men in the lowest section of all in a
+given study are styled the "goats." The members of the "goat"
+section, in math. for instance, are men who feel rather certain that
+they will presently be "found" and dropped from the cadet corps.
+However, at the beginning of a year a man may fall into the
+"goats," and then later, may pull up so that he reaches a higher
+section and goes on with better standing.  But in general the
+"goats" are looked upon as men who are going to be dropped, and
+this usually applies, also, to a majority of the men in the two or
+three sections just above the "goats."
+
+About forty per cent. of the young men who enter West Point as
+cadets are dropped before their course is over. Most of these losses
+occur in the plebe and yearling classes. When a man has
+completed two years at West Point he has a very good chance to
+get through and win his commission as an officer in the Army.
+
+In geometry Greg was in the third section above the "goats," Dick
+in the sixth.
+
+"I wish I had your head, old ramrod!" groaned Greg, half an hour
+later.
+
+"If I should lose even a hair's weight from my head I'd be in the
+'goats' next week," replied Prescott grimly. "If I ever get to be an
+officer in the Army, I wonder what earthly good all these math.
+headaches will do me in handling a bunch of raw rookies?"
+
+"If we have to go back to Gridley, 'skinned,'" grimaced Greg, "we'll
+at least have company. Dodge is only a tenth above 'goat' grade in
+geom., and next week will probably see him there."
+
+"And he was considered a good student in Gridley!" quoth Dick
+sadly.
+
+That Dodge, however, still had hopes of being able to hold on was
+proved by the fact that he was now conducting a vigorous
+campaign for election to the class presidency.
+
+"I think I am as good as elected class president," he wrote home to
+the elder Dodge. And, the next time Theodore Dodge went over to
+his bank in Gridley, Theodore Dodge circulated the news among
+his intimates.  The evening "Mail," in Gridley, came out with the
+statement that Dodge was sure to become class president.
+
+"And thus Gridley will have cause to feel that. it occupies no small
+place of honor, after all, in national affairs," penned the editor of
+the "Mail."
+
+Dodge had a rather fair following of friends in the class, since he
+had become modest enough to drop his pretensions to caste and
+extra social position and they were working hard for him.
+
+That young man came early to Dick and Greg, asking them to
+work for him.
+
+"I don't quite care to pledge myself," Dick replied kindly.  "When
+the class meeting is called I'd rather go in with a free mind on the
+subject. Then, Dodge, if I consider you the best man put in
+nomination, I'll vote for you."
+
+Though this was not a positive assurance Dodge and his campaign
+managers made use of it to put Dick's name in the list of
+supporters.
+
+One evening, at dress parade, when the cadet adjutant read the
+day's orders, he came to this announcement:
+
+"Members of the fourth class are requested to meet, under
+permission of the Superintendent, at the Y. M. C. A. at eight
+o'clock to-night, for the election of a class president, and for
+transaction of such other business as may properly come before the
+meeting. Members of the upper classes will accordingly remain
+away from the Y. M. C. A. to-night."
+
+"Remember, you fellows," called Bert Dodge, thrusting his head
+into Dick and Greg's room after return to barracks, "I count upon
+your strong support to-night."
+
+CHAPTER XVIII  THE PLEBE CLASS CHOOSES ITS
+PRESIDENT
+
+NOT a man save two on sick report at cadet hospital was absent
+when Cadet Hopper, acting as temporary chairman, the plebe class
+called to order.
+
+"Gentlemen," he announced, "you all know the principal reason for
+our being here. We are, in especial, to elect a class president.
+Therefore I will take time only to urge upon you the great
+importance of to-night's planned action.
+
+"The class president is to be, in a word, the class leader. The
+president of this class is to stand before the entire cadet body, and
+before the authorities of the United States Military Academy, as
+the representative of this class.
+
+"It goes without saying, I think, that our president should be, in
+every respect, the best possible representative of the class as a
+whole. He should be as nearly as possible the ideal man of the
+class-the man who stands for the best, the manliest and the most
+loyal thoughts and aspirations of this class.
+
+"As brevity is always highly to be prized, I will say no more at this
+moment. If any gentle-man present desires to address the class, I
+will recognize him for that purpose. If, after a pause, we ascertain
+that no member desires to make a general address, I will then rule
+that the election is next in order."
+
+"Mr. Chairman!"
+
+"Mr. Lawrence."
+
+"I believe, Mr. Chairman," cried Mr. Lawrence, "that I have never
+heard the objects or the duty of a meeting better expressed, or in
+fewer words. I am certain that I voice the sense of this class
+meeting when I say that the thanks of the plebe class are due to the
+chairman. I have only to add by own personal, urgent appeal that
+the man chosen for the greatest honor we can bestow be truly a
+man who represents the best that there is in this class. And now,
+Mr. Chairman, I move that we proceed at once to nominations."
+
+"Nominations with speeches?" asked the chairman.
+
+"Yes, Mr. Chairman."
+
+"I second the motion, as amended," declared Cadet Thompson.
+
+The motion was put and carried.
+
+Cadets Hopper and Lawrence were both nominated, and the
+nominations seconded.
+
+"Mr. Chairman!"
+
+"Mr. Delavan."
+
+Cadet Delavan was upon his feet, the recognized and avowed
+arch-supporter of Mr. Dodge. Delavan made an introductory
+appeal in which he brought forth and endorsed the remarks of the
+chair. He then brought forth, as leading characteristics in a wise
+and capable class president a high sense of honor, wide judgment,
+in timacy with the world and its social usages, and unswerving
+loyalty to country, the Military Academy and the class.
+
+"In these and in all other essential and even ideal respects, Mr.
+Chairman, we have everything that can be asked for in Mr. Dodge.
+Mr. Chairman, I most earnestly and urgently place Mr. Dodge in
+nomination for the office of president of this class."
+
+Then Hadley was on his feet at once. In a longer and more
+eloquent speech he seconded the nomination. Hadley possessed the
+gift of eloquence. As he proceeded in his remarks he convinced
+many, until now wavering, that Bert Dodge was the most available
+man for the great office. When Hadley sat down it was the general
+opinion that Dodge was about as good as elected.
+
+There was a long pause. Then:
+
+"Mr. Chairman!"
+
+"Mr. Anstey."
+
+The Virginian nodded to the chair, then looked slowly around at
+all the faces. It was some moments ere his voice was again heard.
+When he did speak it was in a low, clear voice that gradually
+increased in volume.
+
+"Mr. Chairman, and fellow members of the fourth class," Anstey
+continued in soft accents? "it may, at first thought, seem almost
+treacherous that I should favor any comrade over my own
+roommate."
+
+Bert Dodge flushed angrily, then paled.
+
+"Believe me, sir and gentlemen, only a burning desire to see the
+best interests of the class served could nerve me to such a seeming
+lack of grace."
+
+In the intense stillness that followed the noise that Bert Dodge
+made in shifting his feet on the floor sounded loud, indeed. Anstey
+was a trifle paler than usual, but he was working under an intense
+conviction, and the grit and dash of his Revolutionary forbears was
+quite sufficient to carry him on unswervingly to his goal of duty to
+the class.
+
+"Against Mr. Dodge, sir and classmates, I have no word to offer. I
+will admit that he would make a good president of the class. In one
+study Mr. Dodge for a while stood so persistently among the goats
+as to hint at the possibility that he might not be with us long."
+
+Bert flushed angrily.
+
+"But, most fortunately," pursued Anstey, in the same soft, Southern
+voice, "Mr. Dodge has lately pulled himself up from among the
+goats, and is most likely to remain here at the Academy for the
+allotted period of four years.
+
+"Yet, sir and classmates, the words of our temporary presiding officer
+have sunk deeply into my brain. We must choose the man who is most
+truly representative of the whole spirit, purpose and daring of the
+class. With all due and high respect, gentlemen, for my own room-mate,
+I desire to bring forward for your consideration the one who, I feel
+certain, stands more closely than any of us to all the grand old
+traditions of intelligence, daring, loyalty, leadership, good
+fellowship and unfailing good judgment.  The man I would nominate,
+sir, will, to my mind, lead this class as no class has been led at the
+Military Academy within the last generation or two."
+
+Mr. Anstey paused, glancing at the faces in front.
+
+"Name him!"
+
+"Yes! Name him!"
+
+"Mr. Chairman, and classmates," continued the Virginian, "I have
+the honor-and I assure you I feel it an honor to have made the
+discovery-I have the honor to place in nomination for the class
+presidency the name of that splendid fellow and soldier-at- heart-
+Mr. Prescott!"
+
+Greg it was gave a whoop that started the cheering.
+
+"You sneak!" muttered Dodge under his breath, trying to hide the
+fire that burned in his eyes as he looked again at Cadet Anstey. But
+five men caught the low-uttered word and it cost Dodge five votes.
+
+"Further nominations are in order," suggested Chairman Hopper.
+
+There was a long pause, after which it was moved, seconded and
+carried that the nominations be closed.
+
+"The chair then directs," continued Mr. Hooper, "that Messrs.
+Gentry, Hawkes, Fletcher Simmons serve as tellers. Voting will be
+by written ballot, on slips that will be supplied by the tellers."
+
+Soon the tellers circulated again through the meeting, receiving the
+written ballots in their caps. These were brought forward to the
+table behind the platform desk and counted. Then, after securing
+the floor, teller Hawkes announced the result as follows:
+
+"Whole number of votes cast, 122; necessary to choice, 61. Of
+these Mr. Dodge has received 48; Mr. Prescott, 39; Mr. Hopper,
+19, and Mr. Lawrence, 16."
+
+"No choice having been made by the majority voting," decided the
+chair, "the tellers will again distribute blank slips and another
+ballot will be cast."
+
+The second balloting resulted in this layout:
+
+Dodge, 52; Prescott, 40; Hopper, 16; Lawrence, 14.
+
+"No choice having yet been made, a third balloting will be
+necessary," ruled the chair.
+
+"Mr. Chairman-one moment, please!"
+
+"Mr. Lawrence."
+
+"Mr. Chairman and classmates," went on Lawrence hastily, "I
+regret that I have not the silver tongue possessed by some who
+have spoken to-night. Did I possess such a precious thing I would
+know how to thank appropriately, perhaps, those who have favored
+me enough to vote for me. I do thank these friends, though not as I
+would wish I might. But I now respectfully ask all of my friends
+who have voted for me to vote with me, and cast their yotes for
+Mr. Prescott."
+
+"The chair wishes to withdraw its name from this contest, with a
+similar tribute of thanks," declared Mr. Hopper. "Yet, perhaps as
+temporary presiding officer, it will not be wholly proper for me to
+declare in favor of either of the remaining candidates."
+
+Then the tellers distributed ballots again. There was a great deal of
+excitement in the air. Bert Dodge and Dick Prescott were the
+observed of many eyes. Again the ballots were taken up and
+counted.
+
+"Gentlemen," announced Chairman Hopper, as one of the tellers
+handed him a slip, "Mr. Dodge has fifty votes and Mr. Prescott has
+seventy-two. Mr. Prescott is, therefore, elected president of this
+class.''
+
+"Mr. Chairman," cried Greg, leaping to his feet, "I move to make
+the election unanimous."
+
+"Second the motion!" called half a dozen at once.
+
+It was put to an aye-and-no vote and carried rousingly.
+
+"The chair gladly relinquishes its temporary post to the one elected
+to fill it," announced Mr. Hopper.
+
+Anstey, Greg and a dozen others gleefully escorted the class
+president to the platform.
+
+Dick addressed the meeting in a quiet, low voice, but he heartily
+thanked the class for the honor it bad accorded him.
+
+"I'm not going to make a speech, gentlemen," he continued.
+"Perhaps a speech from me will be worth more when I am through
+with the office. But I have listened attentively to what has has been
+outlined to-night by other speakers as constituting a worthy
+president, and I can only add that I shall do all that may possibly
+be in my power to live up to such ideals. The chair now stands
+ready to be advised of any further business that may properly come
+before the meeting."
+
+There being no "business," the time was taken up with speeches
+from several plebes who wanted to be heard. The subject of their
+treatment by the yearlings came in for much attention. Many of the
+speakers expressed burning indignation at the "small show"
+accorded to the plebe class.
+
+'Hasn't our president something to say on this subject?" called
+some one.
+
+"I shall be glad to speak on this very matter," smiled Cadet
+Prescott, rising. "Gentlemen of the class, I know that we are
+traveling over a road that, even under the most genial conditions,
+would be a rough one. Many of us feel that the yearling class is
+devoting all its energies to making that road a still rougher one."
+
+"Hear! Hear!" cried a dozen at once.
+
+"But, gentlemen," continued the new class president, "next June
+we shall be yearlings. There will be a new lot of plebes here, and I
+feel rather certain that we shall treat them just about as we are now
+being treated."
+
+There were murmurs of dissent at this.
+
+"For generations," continued Cadet Prescott, "the plebe at West
+Point has had to rough it. You are all familiar with the truism that
+a soldier must learn to obey before he is fit for command. In much
+the same way, I fancy, the plebe must travel a rough road before he
+is thoroughly broken in and fitted to enjoy the delights of full
+equality and recognition with upper class men.
+
+"We are no more put upon than was every. present upper class
+man during his first year here. When we reach the sublime heights
+on which the yearlings dwell I believe that we shall look back and
+appreciate the fact that we truly needed some round thrashing into
+shape. We shall feel grateful to our present enemies, the
+yearlings-and we will turn around and help the new lot of plebes
+through the same kind of first-year life. In the meantime,
+classmates, I earnestly advise that we establish at least one record
+here. Let us, from now on, prove ourselves to be the gamest of
+plebes who have suffered here in many a year. The more patiently
+we bear it now, ir all patience, the better yearlings, the better
+second class men and first class men we shall be when our time
+comes. The motto of a famous sovereign is, 'I serve.' Let our plebe
+class motto be, 'I grin and bear.'"
+
+This wasn't exactly what the plebes had been expecting from their
+new leader.  For a few moments after Dick sat down there was
+silence. Then a half dozen began to applaud. The noise grew, until
+half the plebes were cheering.
+
+"Thank you, gentlemen," smiled the class president. "I think we are
+now well started on the way to becoming useful members of the
+Army."
+
+"What do you think of our new leader?" one of Bert Dodge's late
+supporters asked that young man after the meeting had broken up.
+
+"We're going to have a boot-lick president," growled Bert.
+
+"Then there's a strong boot-lick sentiment in the class," returned
+the other cadet. "But I think Mr. Prescott is going to head a
+manlier lot than we were yesterday."
+
+When Anstey entered their room at barracks Dodge refused to
+notice him, or to answer a pleasant greeting.
+
+"I have been trying to forgive Dick Prescott for all of the past,"
+Cadet Dodge told himself darkly. "I wanted to start a new life, for
+both of us, here at West Point. But the fellow won't let me. He is
+always getting in my way. Oh, what a laugh there'll be in Gridley,
+among the mucker part of the population, when they find that I'm
+not class president, but that Dick Prescott is!"
+
+Even after he lay in bed, following taps, Bert Dodge could not
+sleep. He lay tossing restlessly, dark thoughts surging through his
+mind.'
+
+"No place on earth seems large enough for Dick Prescott and me
+together!" muttered Dodge in the dark. "Dick Prescott, if I haven't
+lost my cunning you shan't be here much longer."
+
+But the forcing of Dick Prescott out of the West Point cadet corps
+was not easy to accomplish nor were ways of doing it to be come
+upon quickly.
+
+First, Mr. Dodge realized that he was falling behind in
+mathematics, and for weeks he had to give all his energy to
+keeping a place in the class.
+
+Finally January came and with it examinations. The plebe escapes
+written examinations if he has shown proficiency in the general
+review of the first half of the academic year. Dick and Greg got
+through' without these "writs." Bert Dodge was compelled to face
+the written test in mathematics, but he made the grade and stayed
+on. He was gratified, for thirty-one of the plebes were dropped
+after this examination.
+
+"I've got to stay on," Bert Dodge had ground out between his teeth.
+"If I'm to be dropped from West Point, it must be after I've found a
+way to send Dick Prescott back to Gridley ahead of me!"
+
+Spring came, and still Bert's opportunity was lacking. He and Anstey
+greeted each other, but that was about all the communication the two
+held. Yet, one night, having noted the fact that for some time Dodge
+had seemed depressed, the Virginian asked:
+
+"What's wrong, Mr. Dodge? Anything in which another fellow
+can lend a hand!"
+
+"Nothing's wrong," replied Dodge shortly, and turned at once to his
+books. Still his gloom continued, and one evening not long after
+Anstey said to Dick and Greg:
+
+"That townsman of yours is so deep in gloom that it's like living in
+an unlighted cave to be. in the same room with him. What's wrong,
+do you suppose?"
+
+"No telling," replied Dick." just disposition, I presume. He's no
+longer a townsman of ours, by the way."
+
+"Do you note really savage looks on his face?" put in Cadet
+Holmes.
+
+"Don't I, though!"
+
+"Then Bert Dodge has a mean streak on and is plotting mischief
+to some one!"
+
+"Is he underhanded and treacherous?" demanded Anstey quickly.
+
+Prescott hesitated a moment, then said:
+
+"Perhaps you'd better keep your eyes open. You're pretty close to
+him, and you don't want him to do anything to bring you? record in
+question. Still, so far as any of us knows, he's been honorable and
+square here; so let's give the fellow his chance and say nothing to
+preju dice any one else."
+
+"You're right, Dick. Still, I wish something would pull the fellow
+out of his gloom. It spreads thick through the whole room."
+
+The truth was that because he could think of no feasible plan to
+drive Prescott from the Military Academy, Bert Dodge had
+become morose and irritable. But at last he thought he saw his
+chance.
+
+It was May when Greg Holmes received a telegram that an aunt of
+his of whom he had always been fond had died. Another telegram
+from Greg's father to Superintendent Martin asked that the: boy be
+allowed to go home for the funeral. After an inquiry as to Greg's
+standing in class, Colonel Martin granted the permission, handing
+Holmes the money his father had telegraphed for the purpose.
+When Bert Dodge saw Greg leave the Academy his eyes lighted
+up.
+
+"Prescott will be alone in his room," he muttered in evil glee.
+"There'll be times when he'll be out; but I'll have to work quickly!"
+Then a gleam came into his eyes. "Prescott will be in Lieutenant
+Pierson's quarters talking over football plans to-morrow night.
+That's my chance!"
+
+CHAPTER XIX  THE PROWLER IN QUARTERS
+
+AT  EVEN o'clock the next morning Bert Dodge stepped up to
+another cadet known as the "sick-marcher."  Together they went to
+the hospital where Dodge reported to the medical officer in charge.
+
+"What's the trouble, Mr. Dodge?" asked the surgeon, reaching for
+the plebe's pulse.
+
+"Chills, sir, mumbled the cadet.
+
+"Chills? Your pulse is a bit rapid, but not suspiciously so. Let me
+place this thermometer in your mouth."
+
+After two minutes Captain Goodwin removed the thermometer
+and held it up.
+
+"Normal," he observed, a bit puzzled. "Dead-beating," as it is
+called, or trying to get into the hospital when there is no need, is
+not unknown to the surgeons at the Military Academy. But when
+done, it is usually tried before a boy has been there a year. "How
+long have you felt this way?"
+
+"For about twenty-four hours, sir."
+
+"Perhaps I'd better mark you 'quarters' for twenty-four hours to
+come," said the surgeon, eyeing Dodge closely.
+
+Dodge squirmed. This was what he did not want. Being ordered to
+quarters would keep him in his room.
+
+"I've been fighting this off in my room, sir, replied Dodge
+haltingly. "I don't feel well, and I thought that a day or two here,
+resting in bed under a doctor's eye, might set me up."
+
+"Very well, Mr. Dodge. I don't think anything serious has assailed
+you, but we '11 keep you under observation for a. day or two."
+
+Captain Goodwin completed the record of the case, then pressed a
+button. A sergeant of the hospital corps entered.
+
+"Steward, Mr. Dodge is to be put to bed. Full hospital diet and rest.
+Further instructions will be given to you later."
+
+"Very good, sir."
+
+Dodge followed the sergeant to a bathroom, there to undress and
+bathe. When he had finished he was handed some pajamas.
+
+"Where is my regular clothing?" asked Dodge of the private who
+gave him the pajamas.
+
+"Sergeant Eberlee locked them up in a locker, sir, until you're
+discharged."
+
+Bert Dodge, in a furious temper, followed the private to the bed
+assigned to him. His clothing locked up!  That clothing bad figured
+largely in his plan in coming to the hospital.
+
+"Now I have played the fool!" thought the cadet. "I'd planned to get
+out on the sly tonight, while in here officially. Now I can't get out
+except in pajamas in which I'd be spotted before I'd gone ten feet!
+Hang the fool regulations of this hospital !"
+
+All day Dodge lay fuming. Lieutenant Doctor Herman visited him
+twice, still unwilling to say nothing was wrong. For one thing,
+Bert was so angry that he could not eat, and that in itself is unusual
+in a healthy cadet who lives a very strenuous life. Anger also gave
+him a flushed face and an exceptional look about the eyes. Yet,
+there was nothing apparent to make a physician believe there was
+anything serious the matter.
+
+Bert had the ward to himself, being the only patient in the
+building. It was eight o'clock when a man in the uniform of the
+hospital corps came in to turn the lights low.
+
+"Benton!" exclaimed Dodge. "What brings you here?"
+
+"Is that you, Mr. Dodge?" asked Private Benton, approaching Bert's
+bed. "I'm sorry to see you sick, sir."
+
+"I'm not sick, Benton. But, again, what are you doing here?" Bent
+on was an enlisted man who, for pay, had been accustomed to
+serving Dodge more or less surreptitiously.
+
+"My enlistment ran out last week, sir. So I quit the cavalry to try a
+three-year term in the hospital corps."
+
+Here was Cadet Dodge's opporturnty! He bribed Benton to bring
+him his clothes and to promise silence.
+
+"It would be time in a military prison for me if I told, sir; so you
+can be sure I'll keep still," was Benton's remark as he let the cadet
+out of a back door.
+
+As he went softly in through the east sally port, Dodge noted with
+joy that almost nobody was around.
+
+"I can get by without detection," he chuckled. He did get just
+inside the doorway of the subdivision in which Cadets Prescott and
+Holmes dwelt before. he attracted attention. There he passed two
+yearlings.
+
+"Is that you, Mr. Dodge?" rather sharply demanded one of these
+yearlings.
+
+"No, sir," Dodge replied in a strained voice and sped on upstairs.
+
+"Queer," muttered one of the yearlings. "I was almost positive that
+was Mr. Dodge."
+
+Dodge was by this time in Dick Prescott's darkened room. He stole
+over to the fireplace where he worked quickly.
+
+"I've fixed your career here, Dick Prescott!" gloated the
+treacherous youth.
+
+CHAPTER XX  CONCLUSION
+
+DICK PRESCOTT and a dozen other plebes who had football
+hopes had a spent a delightful evening in Lieutenant Pierson's
+quarters.  They left rather early; nevertheless.
+
+"Come to my room and talk things over, Anstey," urged Dick.
+"We've time before taps."
+
+Dick ran ahead to turn on the light while Anstey mounted the stairs
+slowly. As he entered the room,  Prescott could see from the light
+that entered from the corridor some one crouched over by the
+fireplace.
+
+"Have I a visitor?" said Dick pleasantly. "Wait till I get a look at
+you."
+
+To have run from the room would have been a confession of guilt.
+Moreover, Dodge heard the mounting steps of Anstey outside. So
+he stayed while Dick turned on the light.
+
+"It's Dodge!" exclaimed Dick.  "At last accounts you were in
+hospital. I'm glad you're better," the cadet went on coldly.
+
+"I slipped out of hospital," whispered Dodge. "Don't give me away,
+Prescott. I'd like to get back without being seen by any one else."
+
+"What's up?"
+
+"Don't keep me," said Bert nervously.
+
+"What were you doing in this room?" asked Dick, becoming
+suspicious.
+
+"I forgot that Holmes was away and came to see him."
+
+"When you found the room dark did you still think Greg was
+here?"
+
+"Don't keep me now. You don't want to see me skinned, do you?"
+
+"What were you doing by the fireplace?"
+
+"Why-why-"
+
+"Were you aware that in days past plebes who occupied this room
+had pried up two of the bricks from the base of the fireplace and
+had a hiding cubby there?"
+
+"Of course not! What do you take me for?" Anstey had come to the
+doorway, but stayed there, blocking the passage. Prescott stepped
+to the fireplace and stooped as though to look under the loose
+bricks. Dodge, in a panic, got there before him and pulled out
+some papers.
+
+"I was trying to play a prank on you and Holmes. As you've
+forestalled it, I don't think I'll let you know what it was," and.
+Dodge struck a match and set the papers on fire, throwing them
+into the fireplace.
+
+"Perhaps you don't mind letting me enjoy your int'resting joke
+with you, Mr. Dodge," drawled Anstey, coming into the room.
+
+"It wouldn't interest you, Mr. Anstey. Its foundation lies in by-gone
+days back in Gridley," floundered Dodge.
+
+"At any rate, your fire has destroyed the-ah-joke. Will you
+assure me, Mr. Dodge, that the joke was only a good-natured one?"
+asked Dick Prescott, eyeing Dodge sternly.
+
+"I assure you of that on my honor as a cadet and a gentleman," said
+Dodge stiffly.
+
+"Very well then. And now good-night." The plebe who had just
+perjured himself turned from Prescott toward Anstey. He saw that
+the Virginian did not believe him.
+
+"Just a word, Mr. Dodge," put in Anstey.
+
+"As we are near the end of the barracks year I will not ask for a new
+roommate. But when we come back from the summer encampment I will see
+to it that my roommate is some one else."
+
+Bert Dodge paled, then flushed crimson. "Am I entitled to a reason
+for that, Anstey?" "Mister Anstey, if you please, now and always
+hereafter."
+
+"Certainly, Mr. Anstey. May I ask your reason for desiring a new
+roommate?"
+
+"I think I need not give my reason, Mr. Dodge," and Anstey turned
+his back.
+
+Bert Dodge got out of the room somehow and made his way back
+to the hospital ward through the back door. Dick Prescott never
+learned what the "joke" was. But Dodge, back in the hospital bed,
+muttered:
+
+"An anonymous letter to the superintendent of the K. C. would
+have fixed things and the papers would have been found! Queer
+that Dick Prescott always comes out on top."
+
+It occasionally happens that an unworthy cadet leaves West Point
+without charges against him having been heard and passed on by
+the authorities. Each class in the United States Military Academy
+is censor of the honor of its own members. Let a cadet be found
+out in a lie or other dishonorable act; and he is so avoided by his
+comrades that he is glad to leave the Academy. It was this power
+of his fellow cadets that made Dodge shiver as he lay sleepless in
+the hospital ward.
+
+Cadet Holmes returned to duty and was greeted hilariously by his
+many friends. He was even envied, in disregard of the sad event
+that had given him his leave.
+
+"You fellows make me tired," grumbled Greg. "My trip has
+convinced me that I'd sooner tote the water bucket at West Point
+than own a steam yacht and an automobile anywhere else."
+
+Greg's fellow plebes gave a yell of approval, and even some of the
+upper classmen nodded approvingly, if somewhat haughtily.
+
+Hard work went on; for these were anxious days for the plebes.
+Would some of them be dropped at the end of this first year! No
+one felt certain of his merits, and all worked and studied to the
+exclusion of most other thoughts. But at last came the general
+review, then the information for which all waited was posted.
+
+"I'm satisfied," sighed Dick, after reading the lists.
+
+Greg's work, too, had been satisfactory, as had that of Anstey. Bert
+Dodge, also, had got creditably past the examiners. But eighteen of
+the plebes were dropped.
+
+All the first-class men passed. So now came joyous days for all the
+cadets except the lowly plebes, whose only participation in the gay
+times that take place at this season is to stand on one side and
+watch.
+
+But the night of the graduation hop came and went. The day
+following this was the graduation of the first class.
+
+On the evening of this day Anstey dropped in to see Dick and Greg
+in their room.
+
+"Hullo, old ramrod, and you; Holmesy! Are you pondering on the
+fact that you'll be an exalted yearling to-morrow?"
+
+"I don't believe the yearling himself feels exalted-it's only the plebe
+that puts him on a high seat. The yearling probably looks with
+longing to the next and the next and the next," laughed Greg.
+
+"Oh, I don't know. Not longing," put in Dick. "I should not want to
+stay here always, of course. One looks forward to shouldering real
+responsibilities. But I'm going to enjoy every year as I go along and
+not wish for the next and the next."
+
+"Just the same, the 'next' comes," replied Anstey as he said
+good-night and left the room.
+
+A little later a drum sounded at the inner entrance of the north
+sally port. The subdivision inspector was coming-had gone.
+
+"Greg," whispered Cadet Prescott.
+
+"Yes, old ramrod?"
+
+"To-morrow will be yearling camp for us!"
+
+What happened there and during the following year will be told in
+the next volume, entitled "DICK PRESCOTT'S SECOND YEAR
+AT WEST POINT, or, Finding the Glory of the Soldier's Life."
+
+THE END
+
+
+
+
+*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK, DICK PRESCOTT'S FIRST YEAR AT WEST POINT ***
+
+This file should be named dckpr10.txt or dckpr10.zip
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+
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