"Mr. Prescott reports, sir."
"Mr. Holmes reports, sir."
Saluting, the two yearlings stepped into the tent of the O.C., then halted at attention.
Two officers returned their salutes. Captain Bates sat at his desk. Lieutenant Colonel Strong, commandant of cadets, sat back in lower chair at the right of Captain Bates's desk.
"Mr. Prescott," began Captain Bates, transfixing the yearling with his burning eyes, "you and Mr. Holmes were close to Battle Monument when the firecrackers were discharged there this evening.
"Yes, sir," Dick admitted.
"What do you know about the affair?"
"Only this, sir: That, after passing you, we walked along the same path until we turned in not far from the monument. We were walking toward it when we heard the discharges, and saw the flashes."
"Had you been nearer to the monument at any time through the evening,Mr. Prescott?"
"No, sir."
Dick answered with great promptness.
"Mr. Prescott, have you sufficiently considered my question and your reply?"
"Yes, sir."
"I will put a question of another kind. Did you see, do you know, or have you any knowledge of any kind, of those who placed the firecrackers by the monument, or who set them off?"
"Absolutely no knowledge, sir, on any point you mention," Dick rejoined promptly.
"Did you have any knowledge that such a breach of discipline was being planned."
"I did not, sir."
"Mr. Prescott!"
It was Colonel Strong who spoke. Dick wheeled about, saluted, then stood at attention.
"A serious offence against military discipline has been committed at Battle Monument tonight. Have you any knowledge about the matter which, if in our possession, would aid in any way in clearing up the mystery surrounding this offence?
"I have absolutely no knowledge of any form, sir, except that, as I stated, while Mr. Holmes and I were walking toward the monument, we heard the reports and saw the flashes."
"You realize the full import of your statement, Mr. Prescott?" pressed the K.C.
"I do, sir."
"Then, on your honor as a cadet and a gentleman, you declare that your statement is true?"
"I do, sir," Cadet Prescott replied.
The pledge he had just given is the most solemn that is exacted of a United States military cadet. Usually, the cadet's plain word is accepted as ample, for the sense of faith and honor is paramount at West Point. A cadet detected in a lie would be forced out of the cadet corps by the ostracism of his own comrades.
"That is all, for the present, Mr. Prescott."
Dick respectfully saluted the K.C., then the O.C., next wheeled and marched out of the tent, going straight to his own tent. Prescott would gladly have remained, but he had been dismissed.
It was twenty minutes later when Greg crept back into the tent and began to undress.
"How about it?" whispered Prescott.
"I was asked more questions, but all of the same import," Holmes answered in a whisper.
"Did the O.C. make you tell on yourself, about being over by the reveille gun?"
"No; I thought some of his questions led that way, but my other answers stopped him in that line. As a last resort I would respectfully have declined to say anything to incriminate myself."
As was afterwards learned, Dick and Greg were the only witnesses examined that night. Captain Bates had followed the only trail at which he could guess, and had learned nothing.
* * * * * * * *
"Mr. Prescott and Mr. Holmes both have the usual excellent reputation of cadets for truthfulness, haven't they, Captain?" asked Colonel Strong.
"Yes, Colonel."
"Then I am afraid we shall get no further in this investigation."
"Unless, sir, my questions were so badly put as to give them a chance of shielding themselves without giving untruthful answers. I shall sleep on this matter tonight, Colonel. I don't want these young men to think they can put such an easy one right over my head."
"I wish you luck, Bates. But I'm afraid you've shot off your only round of ammunition, and have found it a blank charge. Good night."
"Good night, sir."
"Mr. Prescott was clever enough to prevent my pouncing on Mr. Holmes at the reveille gun tonight," mused the O.C. "I can hardly suspect Mr. Prescott of untruthfulness, but I wonder whether he has been clever enough to baffle me in this monument affair, without telling an absolute untruth?"
For nearly a half an hour the O.C. lay awake, reviewing the method he had followed in questioning Cadet Prescott.
In the morning, after breakfast, there were a few minutes of leisure in camp before the squads or platoons marched away for the first drills.
"You were on the grill, last night, old ramrod?" asked Furlong, in a chuckling whisper.
"Yes," Dick nodded.
"You couldn't tell anything?"
"I knew less than nothing to tell."
"You didn't see us, last night, as we slipped away from the monu——-"
"Shut up, you sun-scorched idiot!" cried Prescott sharply, under his breath. "I don't want to know anything about it now."
"Oh, that's all right, I suppose," said Mr. Furlong, looking furtively towards Bert Dodge, who was standing some distance off.
The very thought that he was now practically certain, morally, at least, who one of the perpetrators of the monument affair was, made Dick uneasy. He knew there was still a danger that he and Greg might be summoned again to the tent of the O.C.
Bert Dodge saw, from a distance, the whispered talk between Dick and Mr. Furlong; he also saw the latter's quick, stealthy glance.
Now, Dodge, from having tried to visit Furlong the night before, knew that the young man had returned from the hop, for he had seen Furlong go into his tent shortly after ten. Dodge also knew that Furlong had been absent from camp at the time of the monument discharges.
"Furlong is one of the offenders," thought Bert, "and Prescott is roasting him about it. I suppose our highly conceited class president thinks it his place to lecture all the jokers in the class. But how would it be possible, without getting myself into trouble, to pass on the hint that Prescott knows more than he is telling?"
It didn't take a fellow with all of Cadet Dodge's natural meanness very long to invent a plan that looked feasible.
Sauntering along near the guard tent, Dodge encountered a classmate with whom he was on fairly good terms, Mr. Harper, who was waiting to fall in when the next relief of the guard was called.
"Prescott was on the grill last night, I hear," began Bert.
"So I hear," nodded Harper.
"I guess he dodged the O.C. cold," chuckled Dodge.
"He denied any knowledge of the monument business, I've heard," replied Harper.
Bert chuckled.
"That sounds like old Prescott," laughed Bert. "And I'll bet he managed it without telling any lies. I know Prescott of old. Our family once lived in the same town with him, you know. Prescott was one of the biggest jokers in our High School. And he never got caught in those days. Prescott was always the artful dodger."
"What do you mean by that!" asked Harper. "You don't mean thatPrescott is untruthful."
"Oh, no, not at all," laughed Bert. "But, if I could put him on the rack, and get the whole thing, unreservedly, out of Richard Prescott, I'd be willing to bet, in advance, that he knows just who set off the cannon crackers last night."
Dodge was careful not to speak so that he could be overheard by Prescott or Furlong, yet he was certain that, on the still morning air around the guard tent, his voice was carrying sufficiently to penetrate to the other side of the khaki walls of the O.C.'s tent.
"Prescott is the clever one, and the loyal one to all but tacs.," laughed Bert to Harper, as he strolled away. Dodge hoped that the O.C. was in his tent.
It is true—-Captain Bates was there. Having drawn the flap, and being in the act of enjoying his morning newspaper, the O.C. heard.
"Hang it, I felt last night that, while answering me truthfully,Mr. Prescott was proving the possession of sufficient clevernessto keep me off the monument trail, just as he foiled my catchingMr. Holmes," mused the O.C. "And I said as much last night toColonel Strong."
At that moment the flap of the tent was lifted and the K.C. returned the salute of his subordinate, who had promptly leaped to his feet.
In a few swift, low words, Captain Bates repeated the conversation he had just overheard.
"That bears out what you thought last night, Bates," rejoined the K.C. "I think there is nothing for it but to have Mr. Prescott in here and put him on the wheel again. Rack him, Bates!"
"I've just time, Colonel to catch Mr. Prescott before the drill squads go out. Corporal of the guard!" hailed the O.C., looking out from his tent.
In another moment a very erect young member of the guard was striding around the head of the encampment, and then down one of the company streets. Dick, in front of his tent, in field uniform, received the summons and responded at once.
"Caught him!" quivered Bert Dodge. "No if that infernal humbug will get hot-headed and answer the O.C. rashly, there may be something good coming in the punishment line! It would be a source of wild joy if I could get Dick Prescott on the wrong flank with the tacs.!"
The instant that Dick reported, and found himself in the presence of his two inquisitors of the night before, he knew that some hint of his new knowledge must have reached the tactical department.
"Mr. Prescott, last night," began Captain Bates, "you denied absolutely having any knowledge as to the persons who set off firecrackers near Battle Monument."
"Yes, sir."
"I have since gained good reason to think," went on the O.C., "that you know who at least one of the perpetrators was."
Mr. Prescott remained silent.
"Why do you not reply, Mr. Prescott?"
"I didn't understand, sir, that you had asked me a question."
Captain Bates flushed. He hadn't asked a question, in question form, and he saw how neatly this cadet had "caught" him. But that only served to increase the suspicion of both officers present that Mr. Prescott was a very clever witness who was successfully contriving to keep something back.
"Mr. Prescott, do you now know who was responsible for the monument affair of last night?" insisted the O.C.
"I don't know sir," replied Dick, putting all proper emphasis on the word.
"Yet you suspect?"
"I suspect one man, sir," Dick responded without attempt at concealment.
"Is the one you suspect a cadet?"
"Yes, sir."
"His name?" broke in Lieutenant Colonel Strong.
Dick Prescott whitened a bit. He knew the chances he was taking now, but he replied, in a clear, steady voice:
"I very respectfully decline to answer, sir!"
"For what reason, sir?" demanded the K.C. sharply.
Prescott opened his mouth, closed it again, without speaking, then at last asked slowly:
"Sir, may I state my reasons in my own way?"
"Proceed, Mr. Prescott."
"My suspicion concerning a certain man, sir, does not cover a really direct suspicion that he had a hand in the affair. His remark led me only to infer that the man was present."
"That does not tell me, Mr. Prescott, why you have refused to answer the question that I put to you," insisted Colonel Strong.
"My reason, sir, for respectfully declining to answer is twofold: First, I do not know whether I am legally required to state a suspicion only. My second reason, sir, is that to state the name of the man I suspect would make me, in my own eyes, and in the eyes of my comrades, a tale-bearer."
Since the K.C. had started this line of questioning, Captain Bates remained silent. So, too, did the K.C. for some moments after Dick had finished.
It was the first problem that faced the tactical officers—-much harder one than it would considered in civilian life.
In the first place, it is one of the highest West Point ideals never to treat a cadet with even a trace of injustice. The young man who is being trained to be an officer, and who will, in time, be placed over other men, above all must be just. In no other way can the cadet learn as much about justice as by being treated with it.
As is the case with an accused man in the civil courts, no cadet may be forced to testify in way that would incriminate himself. When it comes to testifying against another the question has two aspects.
The tale-bearer, the informer, is not appreciated in the military world. He is loathed there, as in civil life. Yet the refusal of one cadet to testify against another might be carried, insolently, to the point of insubordination. So, when a cadet, under questioning, refuses to give evidence incriminating another cadet, his reason may be accepted; or, if it appear best to the military authorities, he may be warned that his reason is not sufficient, and then, if he still refuses to answer, he may be proceeded against as for disobedience of orders.
It is a fine point. The K.C. found it so at this moment. Dick Prescott stood rigidly at attention, a fine, soldierly looking young fellow. His face, his eyes, had all the stamp of truth and manliness. Yet the suspicion had arisen with these two tacs. that Mr. Prescott was a young man who was extremely clever in giving truthful answers that shielded offending cadets.
"You have stated your position unreservedly and exactly, Mr.Prescott?" inquired Colonel Strong at last.
"Yes, sir."
"You are certain that you have not more than the merest suspicion of the cadet off whom you have been speaking?
"I am absolutely certain, sir."
"How does it happen, Mr. Prescott, that you have this suspicion, and absolutely nothing more?"
A cadet is not permitted to hesitate. He must answer not only truthfully, but instantly. So Dick looked the K.C. full in the eyes as answered:
"A cadet, sir, started to say something, and I shut him up."
"Because you did not wish to know more?"
"Yes, sir," Prescott admitted honestly.
Captain Bates fidgeted almost imperceptibly; in other words, as much as a military man may. There were a few questions that he wanted to ask this cadet. But it was Bates's superior officer who was now doing the questioning.
The K.C. remained silent for perhaps half a minute. Then he said:
"That is all, at present, Mr. Prescott."
Saluting the K.C., Dick next made a slight turn which brought him facing Captain Bates, whom he also saluted. Both officers returned his salute. Dick wheeled and marched from the tent.
As he passed through the camp the cadet face had in it a soldierly inexpressiveness. Even Bert Dodge, who covertly scanned Prescott from a distance, could not guess the outcome of the "grilling."
"May I ask, Colonel, weather you agree with my opinion of Mr.Prescott?" inquired Captain Bates.
"Your idea that he is an artful dodger?"
"Yes, sir."
"If he is," replied Lieutenant Colonel Strong, "then the young man is so very straightforwardly artful that he is likely to give us a mountain of mischief to handle before he is brought to book."
"If I can catch him at anything by fair means," ventured CaptainBates, "then I am going to do it."
"You are suspicious of Mr. Prescott?"
"Why, I like the young man thoroughly, sir; but I believe that, if we do not find a means of curbing him, this summer's encampment will be a season of unusual mischief and sly insubordination."
Perhaps there was something of a twinkle in Colonel Strong's eye as he rose to leave the tent.
"If you do catch Mr. Prescott, Bates, I shall be interested in knowing the particulars promptly."
Dick returned to his tent to find his bunkies gone to drills. The summons before the O.C. had relieved Prescott from the first period of drill.
On Dick's wardrobe box lay two letters that the mail orderly had left for him.
Both bore the Gridley postmark. The home-hungry cadet pounced upon both of them, seating himself and examining the handwriting of the addresses.
One letter was from his mother. Cadet Prescott opened that first. It was a lengthy letter. The young man ran through the pages hurriedly, to make sure that all was well with his parents.
Now Dick held up the other letter. This also was addressed in a feminine hand—-as most of a cadet's mail is. It was a small, square envelope, without crest or monogram, but the paper and cut were scrupulously good and fine. It was the kind of stationery that would be used by girl brought up in a home of refined surroundings.
Dick broke the seal with a consciousness of a little thrill that he had not felt in opening his mother's letter. Dick did not have to look for the signature; he knew the penmanship.
"My Dear Mr. Prescott," began the letter. ("Hm!" muttered the reader. "It used to be 'Dick'")
"Your note came as a delightfully pleasant surprise," Dick read on ("Now, I wonder why it should have been a surprise? Great Scott! Now, I come to think of it, I hadn't written her before since last February!")
"Of course we are going to drop all other plans for a flying visit to West Point," the letter ran on. "Belle is simply delighted with the idea. She has heard from Mr. Darrin, but he suggests September as the best time for us to visit Annapolis. So mother will bring Belle and myself to West Point. We can spend two or three days there. We shall arrive late on the afternoon on——-"
As Dick read the date, he gave a start.
"Why, they'll be here tomorrow afternoon," throbbed Prescott.
Then and there Prescott stood up in the low-ceilinged tent and tossed his campaign hat up to the ridgepole. That piece of headgear didn't have far to travel, but Dick accompanied it with an "hurrah!" uttered almost under his breath.
"Won't Greg be the tickled boy!" murmured Prescott; joyously."Some one from home—-and folks that we both like!"
Presently some of the drill squads returned to camp. Greg andAnstey came in, warm and curious.
"Did you get into any trouble with the O.C., old ramrod?" questionedAnstey in his soft voice.
"I don't believe I did," Dick answered.
Anstey nodded his congratulations.
"Greg, old fellow, guess what's going to happen soon?" demandedPrescott.
"I'd rather you'd tell me."
"Folks from home! Mrs. Bentley, Laura and Belle Meade will be here late tomorrow afternoon!
"Great!" admitted Cadet Holmes, but to Dick's ear his chum's enthusiasm seemed perfunctory.
"We'll drag femmes to the hop tomorrow night, eh, Greg?"
"Anything on earth that you say, old ramrod," agreed Holmes placidly, then stepped out of his tent to visit across the way.
"Spoony femmes?" inquired Anstey.
"Spooniest ever!" Dick declared.
"Not on your coming shoulder-straps!" retorted Prescott, an eager look in his eyes. "And say, Anstey, you're going to the hop tomorrow night, aren't you?
"Hadn't thought so," replied the other quietly.
"Anything else on?"
"Nothing particular."
"Then be at the hop, Anstey, old bunkie—do! I want you to meet both the young ladies, and dance at least a couple of numbers with each."
"I reckon I'd go through fire or water for you, or Holmesy," murmured the Virginian quietly.
"Oh, it isn't going to be anything like such an ordeal as that," laughed Dick happily. "Just wait until you've seen the young ladies. That's all!"
"As they——-" Anstey paused. Then he went on, after considering: "As they come from home, old ramrod, I should think you and Holmesy would want them all to yourselves."
"But don't you understand, you uncivilized being," demanded Dick, chuckling, "that we can't dance all the numbers with the girls? It would be a slight on the girls if only two men wanted to dance with them. Besides, we want to show them all that's best about West Point. We want them to meet as many as possible the very best fellows that are here."
"My deepest thanks, suh, for the compliment," replied Anstey, with a deep bow.
"Well, that describes you, doesn't it?" demanded Dick. "We want these girls to carry away with them the finest impression possible of good old West Point!"
When evening came, and Prescott and Holmes strolled through camp, listening to the band concert, Dick wanted to talk all the time about the coming visit of the girls. Greg answered, though it struck his chum that Holmes was merely politely enthusiastic.
"Say, Dick," whispered Greg presently, with far greater enthusiasm than he had been displaying, "look at that black-eyed, perfectly tinted little doll that is walking with Griffin!
"Stroll around and meet them face to face presently, then," grinnedDick. "Griff won't mind."
"The deuce he won't" growled Greg. "I'd have a scrap on my hands, besides being voted a butter-in."
"Try it," advised Prescott, giving his chum a little shove. "I tell you, Griff won't mind. Her name is Griffin, too. She's his sister."
A moment later Prescott turned and tried to gulp down a great chuckle. For Greg, without another word, had left him, and now was strolling along with an air of slight absorption, yet his course was so managed as to bring Mr. Holmes face to face with Griffin. At least a dozen other gray and white-clad young men were also to be observed manoeuvring so as to meet Griffin casually. Thus it happened that Greg was but one of a group. Observing this, Holmes increased his stride.
"Hullo, Holmesy!" cried Griffin, with great cordiality. "Glad to encounter you. I've just been telling my sister about some of the best fellows. Della, I present Mr. Holmes. Mr. Holmes, my sister!"
Greg lifted his cap in the most polished manner that he had been able to acquire at West Point, while a dozen other men scowled at Griffin, who appeared not to see them.
Miss Adele Griffin was presently chatting most animatedly about her new impressions of West Point and the United States Military Academy.
"Holmesy, you know so much more about things than I do," pleadedGriffin sweetly, "just be good to Dell for an hour, won't you?You're one of the best-informed men here. Now, mind you, Dell!No fun at Mr. Holmes's expense. Look out for her, Holmesy!"
With that Griffin "slid away" as gracefully and neatly as though he hadn't been planning to do it all along.
"Your brother has always been mighty pleasant to me, but he never was as downright good before," murmured Greg, looking down into the big black eyes that glanced laughingly up into is face.
"Oh, if you are ordinarily observant," laughed Miss Griffin, "just keep your eyes on a level, and you'll be able, in five minutes, to understand why he is so good to you in the present instance."
Nevertheless, it was fully ten minutes before they met Griff again. That young man was talking, with all animation, to a tall, rather stately blonde young lady.
"My brother," remarked Miss Griffin, "is good boy, but he is calculating, even in his goodness.
"I don't like to hear a word said against Griff," protested Greg, "for I feel that I'm under the greatest obligation of my life to him."
Miss Griffin laughed easily, but she glanced up challengingly into the eyes of her tall escort. Miss Griffin had heard of the gallantries of West Point's men, and didn't propose to be caught.
"You must find the cadets a good deal below your expectations?" remarked Mr. Holmes inquiringly.
"No; they're a wholly charming lot," replied the girl. "Oh, that word 'lot' simply escaped me. Yet it does seem rather apt. Don't you think, Mr. Holmes, that the wearing of identical uniforms gives the young men rather the look of a 'lot'?"
Greg felt just a bit crestfallen, but he wasn't going to show it.
"Why, I don't know," he replied slowly. "Some of the young ladies who come here seem able to distinguish units in the lot."
"Differences in height, and variations in the color of hair and eyes? Is that it?" asked Miss Griffin, with an air of mild curiosity.
"Why, perhaps we're like Chinamen?" laughed Greg good-naturedly. "Pig-tailed and blue-bloused Chinese all look alike at first glance. Gradually, however, one is able to note individual peculiarities of appearance."
"Yes, I guess that's it, Mr. Holmes," replied the girl musingly.
"Now, I won't ask you to tax yourself unpleasantly in distinguishing one cadet from another," Greg went on bravely. "But I am hoping, with all my heart, that you'll know me the next time you meet me."
"I can tell you how to make certain," responded Miss Griffin demurely.
"Then I shall be your debtor for life!"
"Wear a red carnation in your blouse, and carry a white handkerchief in your left hand."
"You're cruel," sighed Greg.
"Why?" demanded Miss Griffin.
"Both tests that you suggest are against cadet regulations. Let me suggest a better test?"
"If you can?" challenged Miss Griffin.
The band, at this moment, was playing a Strauss waltz. The young people had strolled just a bit beyond the encampment, and now Greg compelled a halt under the added shadow of a big tree.
"The test I long to suggest," replied Greg, "is so exacting thatI hesitate to ask it."
"My curiosity is aroused," complained Miss Griffin.
"I had it in mind to ask you to look up into my face until you are certain that you will recognize it again."
"Mercy!" gasped the black-eyed beauty.
"I knew I was presumptuous and inconsiderate," admitted Greg meekly.
None the less, Miss Griffin laughed and stood looking coyly up into Mr. Holmes's face. But at last, feeling absurd, Miss Griffin shifted her glance.
"I knew I was asking too much," remarked Greg in a tone of resignation."You couldn't stand it, could you?"
Laughing merrily, Miss Griffin turned her look upward again, meetingGreg Holmes's gray eyes.
Then, after a few moments, she remarked thoughtfully:
"My brother was over-solicitous in fearing that I would embarrass you in the least."
"Are you going to be at the hop tomorrow night?" Greg asked.
"I—-would like to."
"Can it be possible," queried Mr. Holmes, "that I am so fortunate as to be discreet in asking whether I may escort you there?"
"If you care to be so charitable, Mr. Holmes."
Greg had a moment's uneasy impulse to seize her hand by way of answer. Fortunately, he restrained himself.
"If I call for you at the hotel tomorrow evening, Miss Griffin, may I hope that you will recognize me?" he challenged.
"I will take another look and make sure," she laughed softly, glancing up archly into Greg's face.
As the concert drew to a close Greg had to make a decent show of trying to find Griffin, and he succeeded. Griffin was still with the tall blonde. Griffin had permission to go to the hotel, and Greg didn't. So Greg strolled with Miss Griffin until near the hotel grounds. Then he bade her a cordial good night, and Griff escorted both "femmes" to the hotel.
"What do you think of Holmesy?" asked Griffin of his sister.
"He's quite agreeable," replied Adele Griffin. "Very soldierly, if I am any judge. I wonder how he will look in a second lieutenant's uniform?"
As our three bunkies prepared for bed that night Prescott remarked:
"Tomorrow, Greg, we'll see the folks from home! I hope you'll do nothing, though, to make Dave Darrin dislike you."
"I won't," promised Greg solemnly. Then: "Oh, great—-Jove!I've——-"
"Well?" demanded Dick. "What have you done?
"I've asked another femme to accept my drag to-morrow night!
"Miss Griffin?"
"Yes!"
"Anstey," continued Dick, turning quickly to hide a frown, "I shall have to draft you!"
"I was bo'n and reared a gentleman, suh!" replied the Virginian, with cordial gravity.
Two tall, superbly erect young men, showing the soldier in every line of bearing, stepped jauntily along the road leading to the hotel just before five o'clock.
Each wore the fatigue cap of the cadet, the trim gray, black-trimmed blouse of the cadet uniform. Their white duck trousers were the spooniest as to spotlessness and crease.
Dick and Greg went straight to the hotel office.
"The register, please," asked Prescott, for the clerk's back was turned over some work that he was doing.
This was not a request for the hotel register but for the cadet register. Understanding, the clerk turned and passed a small book known as the cadet register. He opened it to the page for the day, while Prescott was reaching for a pen.
In this register both young men inscribed their names. Each had secured permission from the O.C. to visit the hotel. At the close of every day, a transcript of the day's signatures by cadets is taken, and this transcript goes to the O.C. The clerk will send no cards for cadets who have not first registered. The transcript of registry, which goes to the O.C., enables the latter to make sure that no cadets have visited the hotel without permission.
Prescott laid down his visiting card. Holmes laid another beside it.
"Are Mrs. Bentley, Miss Bentley and Miss Meade here?" queried Dick.
After consulting the hotel register the clerk nodded.
"Our cards to Mrs. Bentley, please."
"Front! Fifty-seven!" called the clerk to a bellboy.
"Thank you," acknowledged Prescott.
"Wheeling, the young men turned from the office, striding down the hotel veranda side by side. They turned in at the ladies' entrance, then, caps in hand, stood waiting in the corridor. It is a rule that a cadet must enter no part of the hotel except the parlor. He must see his friends either there, or on the veranda. There is a story told that a general officer's wife visited West Point, for the first time, to see her son, a new cadet at West Point. The plebe son called—-with permission—-sent up his card, and was summoned to his mother's room. He went. A few minutes later there was a knock at the door. The clerk stood there, apologetic but firm.
"I am very sorry, madam, but the regulations provide that your son can visit you only in the parlor."
"But I am the wife of Major General Blank!" exclaimed the surprised lady.
"But, Mrs. Blank, your son is a cadet, and subject to the regulations on the subject. He must either go to the parlor at once, or leave the hotel instantly. If he refuses to do either I am forced to telephone to the tactical officer in charge."
The general's wife was therefore obliged to descend to the parlor with her plebe son.
No other room but the parlor! This prohibition extends even to the dining room. The cadet may not, under any circumstances, accept an invitation from a friend or relative to take a sociable meal with either.
"Tyrannous" and "needlessly oppressive," are terms frequently applied by outsiders to the rules that hedge in cadets, but there is a good reason behind every regulation.
Two or three minutes later a middle-aged woman came slowly down the staircase, gazing about her. At last her glance settled, with some bewilderment on Dick and Greg, who were the only two cadets in the corridor.
"Why, I believe you must be Mr. Prescott and Mr. Holmes!" exclaimed Mrs. Bentley, moving forward and holding out both hands. "Yes; I am certain of it," she added, as Dick and Greg, bowing gracefully from the waistline, smiled goodhumoredly. "Mercy! But how you boys have grown! I am not sure that it is even proper to call you boys any longer."
"If we were boys any longer, Mrs. Bentley, I am sure you would be in doubt," laughed Dick easily. "Yes; you see, cadets, under their training here, usually do shoot up in the air. We have some short, runty cadets, however."
Just then there was a flutter and a swish on the stairs. LauraBentley and Belle Meade came gliding forward, their eyes shining.
"Yes; I know you both and could tell you apart," cried Laura, laughing, as she held out her hand. "But what a tremendous change!"
"Do you think it is a change for the better?" asked Dick, smiling.
"Oh, I am sure that it is. Isn't it, Belle? A how wonderfully glad I am to see you both again."
Dick gazed at Laura with pride. He had no right to feel proud, except that she was from Gridley, and that she had come all the way to West Point to see him in his new life.
Laura Bentley, too, had changed somewhat, though not so much as had her cadet friends. She was but a shade taller, somewhat rounder, and much more womanly in an undefinable way. She was sweeter looking in all ways—-Dick recognized that much at a glance. Her eyes rested upon him, and then more briefly upon Greg, in utter friendliness free from coquetry.
"Can't you get excused and take us over to dress parade?" askedBelle.
Dick turned to look more closely at Miss Meade. Yes; she, too, was changed, and wholly for the better as far as charm of appearance and manner went. Both girls had lost the schoolgirl look. They were, indeed, women, even if very young ones.
"We can hardly get excused from any duty," Dick smiled. "But to-day—-a most unusual thing—-there is no dress parade."
"No parade?" exclaimed Mrs. Bentley in a tone of disappointment.
"No; the officers are entertaining some distinguished outside visitors at Cullum Hall this afternoon, and the band is over at Cullum," Greg explained.
"I am so sorry," murmured Mrs. Bentley.
"But you will be here until the close of tomorrow afternoon?" asked Dick eagerly.
"We had planned to go away about eleven in the forenoon," repliedMrs. Bentley.
"Then you girls would miss a stroll along Flirtation Walk," suggested Cadet Prescott. "It is a very strange thing for a young lady to go away from West Point and confess that she has not had cadet escort along Flirtation Walk."
"Then we must stay until to-morrow afternoon; may we not, mother?" pleaded Laura.
"Yes; for I wish you to see the most of West Point and its famous spots."
"Then to-morrow afternoon you will be able, also, to see dress parade," Dick suggested.
"Do you forget that tomorrow is Sunday? asked Mrs. Bentley.
"No; we have dress parade on Sunday."
Mrs. Bentley looked puzzled. To her it seemed almost sacrilegious to parade on Sunday!
"Wait until you have seen our dress parade," Greg begged. "Then you will understand. It is really as impressive as a religious ceremony; it is the last honors of each day to our country's flag."
"Oh," murmured Mrs. Bentley, looking relieved.
By this time the little party had moved out on to the veranda.
"As there is no dress parade this afternoon," urged Dick, "may we not take you over, and let you see our camp from the outside. Then, after supper, we may, if you wish, take you to the camp for a look before going to the hop."
"As to supper," went on Mrs. Bentley, "you two young gentlemen must come to the hotel a take the meal with us. Wait; I will send word to the office that we shall have guests."
"If you do, you will give the clerk cause for a jolly smile," explained Prescott, smiling. "No cadet can possibly eat at the hotel. There are many regulations that will surprise you, Mrs. Bentley. I will explain as many as occur to me."
Prescott walked between Mrs. Bentley and Laura, while Greg came along with Belle just behind them.
"Are you taking me to the hop tonight, Mr. Holmes?" asked Belle with her usual directness.
Poor Greg, seasoned cadet though he was, flushed uncomfortably.
"I should be," stammered Greg, "but it happens that I am already engaged to drag—-to escort a young lady to tonight's hop."
"I like that word 'drag' better than 'escort'," laughed Belle.
"But Mr. Anstey, our tentmate, is to escort you tonight," Greg made haste to explain.
"That is the first I have heard of it," replied Belle, with an odd smile. "Does Mr. Anstey know about it, either?"
"Don't make fun of me," begged Holmes quickly. "Miss Meade, there are many customs here that are strange to outsiders. But they are very old customs."
"Some of them, I suppose," laughed Belle, "so old that they should be forgotten."
"All cadets are regarded as gentlemen," hurried on Greg. "Therefore, any cadet may be a suitable escort for a young woman. If one cadet has two young lady friends coming to the hop, for instance, he asks one of his comrades to escort one of his friends. Why, a cadet who, for any reason, finds himself unable to attend a hop, after he has invited a young lady, may arrange with anyone of his comrades to call for the young lady in his place."
"What if she should decline the unknown substitute who reported to fill the task?" teased Belle.
"It would betray her unfamiliarity with West Point," replied Greg, with more spirit than Belle had expected from this once very quiet young man. "Miss Meade, we look upon a our comrades here as gentlemen. We regard the man whom we may send in our place as being more worthy than ourselves. Isn't it natural, therefore, that we should expect the young lady to feel honored by the substitution in the way of escort?
"Wholly so," Belle admitted. "If I have said anything that sounded inconsiderate, or too light, you will forgive me, won't you, Mr. Holmes?"
"You haven't offended, and you couldn't," Greg replied courteously; "for I never take offence where none is meant, and you would be incapable of intending any."
The young people ahead were talking very quietly. Laura, indeed, did not wish to talk much. She was taken up with her study of the changed—-and improved—-Dick Prescott.
"Do you know, Dick," she asked finally, "I am more pleased over your coming to West Point than over anything else that could have happened to you."
"Why?" Dick asked.
"Because the life here has made such a rapid and fine change in you."
"You are sure it has made such a change?" Dick inquired.
"Yes; you were a manly boy in Gridley, but you are an actual man, now, and I am certain that the change has been made more quickly here than would have happened in any other life."
"One thing I can understand," pursued Laura. "The life here is one that is full of purpose. It must be. It takes purpose and downright hard work to change two young men as you and Greg have been changed."
By this time the little party was close to the west, or road side of the encampment.
"Isn't that Bert Dodge over there?" asked Laura, after gazing rather intently at a somewhat distant cadet.
"That is Mr. Dodge, Laura."
"Do you care to call him over to speak with us?" asked Mrs. Bentley.
"If you wish it," Dick responded evenly.
Laura looked at him quickly.
"Are you and Mr. Dodge no better friends here than at Gridley?" she asked in a low tone.
"Mr. Dodge and I are classmates, but we are thrown together very little," Dick replied quietly.
"I do not think we care about speaking with Mr. Dodge, do we, mother?" inquired Laura.
"There is no need to," replied Mrs. Bentley.
At that moment Bert Dodge espied the little party. After a short, but curious stare, Bert turned and came toward them.
It was an embarrassing position. So, at least, thought LauraBentley.
"Let us walk on," she suggested, turning as though she had not seen Dodge.
"Humph!" muttered Dodge, turning his own course. "The girls are showing their backs to me. Humph! Not that I care about them particularly, but folks back in Gridley will be asking them if they saw me, and they'll answer that they didn't speak with me. There's no use in running into a snub, out here in the open. But it's easy! I'll stag it at the hop tonight, and I can get within range before they can signal me to keep away."
Smiling grimly, Dodge went to his tent.
After a while it was necessary for Dick and Greg to take their friends back to the hotel, for the cadets must be on hand punctually for supper formation.
"Mr. Anstey and I will call for you at 7:30, if we may," saidDick.
"We shall be ready," Laura promised. "And that we may not keep you waiting, we'll be down on the veranda."
And waiting they were. Dick and Anstey found Mrs. Bentley and the girls seated near the ladies' entrance.
Anstey, the personification of southern grace and courtesy, made his most impressive greetings to the ladies. His languid eyes took in Laura Bentley at a glance, almost, and he found her to be all that Prescott had described. Belle Meade won Anstey's quick approval, though nothing in his face betrayed the fact.
At first glance, it appeared that both girls were very simply attired in white, but they had spent days in planning the effects of their gowning. Everything about their gowning was most perfectly attuned. Above all, they looked what they were—-two sweet, wholesome, unaffected young women.
"We have time now for a short stroll to camp," proposed Prescott. "If you would like it, you can see how we live in summer. The camp is lighted, now."
So they strolled past the heads of the streets of the camp. At the guard tent, Dick and Anstey explained the routine of guard duty, in as far as it would be interesting to women. They touched, lightly, upon some of the pranks that are played against the cadet sentries.
Wherever Mrs. Bentley and the girls passed, cadet friends lifted their caps to the ladies with Prescott and Anstey, the salutes being punctiliously returned.
Bert Dodge was in a rage. He could not get so much as the courtesy of a bow from these girls whom he had known for years. He was being cut dead and he knew it, and the humiliation of the thing was more than he could well bear. A half hour later, he saw the party coming, and discreetly took himself out of sight.
"I can play my cards at the hop," he muttered.
The over to Cullum Hall, through the dark night, the little party strolled, one of many similar parties.
Once inside Cullum Hall, Prescott and Anstey, looking mightily like young copies of Mars in their splendid dress uniforms, conducted the ladies to seats at the side of the ballroom. Dick and Anstey next took the ladies' light wraps and went with them to the cloak room, after which they passed on to the coat room and checked their own caps.
Laura and Belle gazed about them with well-bred curiosity—-Mrs. Bentley, too—-at the other guests of the evening, who were arriving rapidly. The scene was one of animated life. It would have been hard to say whether the handsome gowns of the young ladies, or the cadet dress uniforms, gave more life and spirit to the scene.
As Prescott and Anstey returned across the ballroom floor the orchestra started a preliminary march. Both young cadets fell unconsciously in step close to the door, and came marching, side by side, soldierly—-perfect!
"What splendid, manly young fellows!" breathed Laura admiringly to Belle. Her mother, too, heard.
"Be careful, Laura," advised her mother, smilingly. "Don't lose your heart to a scrap of gray cloth and a brass button."
"Don't fear," smiled Miss Bentley happily. "When I lose my heart it shall be to a man! And how many of them we see here tonight mother!"
Nearly with the precision of a marching platoon the two young men halted before the ladies. Yet there was nothing of stiff formality about either Prescott or Anstey. They stood before their friends, chatting lightly.
"Tell us about some of the other hops that you have attended before," begged Belle Meade.
"But we haven't attended any," Dick replied. "Do you recall my promise in Gridley, Miss Bentley—-that I would invite you to my first hop as soon as I was eligible to attend one?"
"Yes," nodded Laura smilingly.
"This is my first hop," Dick said, smilingly.
"Mine, too," affirmed Anstey.
"Gracious!" laughed Belle merrily. "I hope you both know how to dance."
"We put in weary lessons as plebes, under the dancing master," laughed Dick.
"But you danced well in Gridley," protested Laura.
"Thank you. But the style is a bit different at West Point."
"You make me uneasy," pouted Belle.
"Then that uneasiness will vanish by the time you are half through with the first number."
"There comes Mr. Holmes," discovered Laura. "What a remarkably pretty girl with him."
"Mr. Griffin's sister," said Dick.
"Isn't that Mr. Dodge?" murmured Laura.
Dick only half turned, but his sidelong glance covered the doorway.
"Yes; he appears to be stagging it."
Bert presently disappeared. As a cadet always claims the first number or two with the young lady whom he has "dragged" hither, "staggers" have to wait until later in the programme.
Then, presently the music for the opening dance struck up. Dick had already presented Furlong, a "stagger," to Mrs. Bentley, so that she was not left alone. Furlong had asked the pleasure of a dance with Laura's mother, but Mrs. Bentley, with instinctive tact, realized that the older women did not often dance at cadet hops. So she begged Mr. Furlong to remain with her and tell her about the cadet hops.
As the music struck up, and Dick bent before her, he thrilled with the grace and unaffected friendliness with which Laura rose and rested one hand on his shoulder. She was a woman, and a magnificent one! Away they whirled, Anstey and Belle following.
"I greatly enjoyed the High School hops of former days," sighedLaura, "but this is finer."
"Same escort," murmured Dick.
"Same name, but in many ways much changed," laughed Miss Bentley."Dick, I am so glad you came to West Point."
"So am I," he answered simply.
The first two numbers they danced together, then changed partners for the third dance. Between times, Greg had appeared with Miss Griffin and introductions had followed. Dick's fourth number was danced with Miss Griffin, while Anstey led her out for the fifth.
For that fifth dance Dick introduced one of his classmates toLaura, and, during that dance, Prescott stood and chatted withMrs. Bentley. He saw to it that Laura's mother was very seldomwithout company through the evening.
The sixth dance Dick enjoyed with Laura.
"I had a reason for waiting and asking for this dance," he murmured in her ear.
"Yes?" challenged Laura.
"I discovered that it is the longest number on the programme. I would dearly love the next number, also, but I must not make the evening too dull and prosy for you. Will you trust me to select your partner for the next dance?"
"I am wholly in your hands," smiled Miss Bentley.
After Dick had conducted Laura to a seat beside her mother he stepped away to find Sennett, of the yearling class.
"Sennett," murmured Dick banteringly, "I have seen you casting eyes at Miss Bentley."
"I fear I must plead my guilt, old ramrod. Are you going to present me?"
"For the next dance. I think, if you are very much on your guard,Sennett, you will pass for enough of a gentleman for a few minutes."
"I'll call you out for that on Monday," retorted the other yearling, in mock wrath. "But, for the present, lead me over that I may prostrate myself at the feet of the femme."
So Dick stood beside Mrs. Bentley and watched Laura dance with one of the most popular fellows of the class. As Sennett and Laura returned to Mrs. Bentley, Cadet Dodge suddenly slipped up as though from nowhere.
"Miss Bentley," he murmured, bowing before Laura, after having greeted her mother, "I am presumptuous enough to trust that you remember me."
"Perfectly, Mr. Dodge," replied Laura in her even tones. "How do you do?"
She did not offer her hand; within the limits of perfectly good breeding it was her privilege to withhold it without slight or offence.
"How have you been since the old High School days?"
"Perfectly well, thank you."
"And you, Mrs. Bentley?" asked Dodge, again bowing before her mother.
"Very well, thank you, Mr. Dodge," replied Mrs. Bentley, who subtly took her cue from her daughter.
"Now, Miss Bentley, you are not going to leave a broken heart behind you at West Point?" urged Bert softly. "You are going to let me write my name on your dance card—-even if only once."
"You should have spoken earlier, Mr. Dodge," laughed Laura. "Every dance, if not already taken, is good as promised."
Yearling Dodge could not conceal his chagrin. At that momentBelle Meade returned with one of the tallest cadets on the floor.
Bert greeted her effusively. Belle returned the greeting as evenly and as perfectly as Laura had done—-but nothing more.
"Miss Meade, you are going to be tenderhearted enough to flatter me with one dance?" begged Dodge.
"Oh, I am so sorry!" replied Belle, in a tone of well-bred regret that carried with it nothing more than courtesy, "but I'm promised for every dance."
Cadets Prescott and Sennett had turned slightly aside. So had Belle's late partner. Dodge knew that they were laughing inwardly at his Waterloo. And Anstey and Greg, who stood by at this moment, appeared to be wearing inscrutable grins. Dodge made his adieus hurriedly, walking up the ballroom just ahead of Furlong, who also had observed. Bert felt sure so many of his comrades had seen and enjoyed his plight that his fury was at white heat as he stepped just outside the ballroom.
Furlong came after him, looking at him quizzically.
"We staggers have a hard time of it, eh, Dodge?" grinned Mr. Furlong.
"Are you referring to the two femmes I was just billing?" shot out Dodge impetuously. "Oh, they're very inconsequential girls!"
Mr. Furlong drew himself up very straight, his eyes flashing fire.
"You dog!" he exclaimed, in utter disgust.
Yearling Dodge turned ghastly white.
"You—-you didn't understand me. Let me explain," he urged.
"You can't explain a remark like yours," muttered Mr. Furlong over his shoulder, as he turned his back on Bert.
To be called a "dog" has but one sequence in cadet world. Bert Dodge had to send his seconds to Mr. Furlong before taps. Though they must have loathed their task, had they known the whole story, the seconds made arrangements with Mr. Furlong's representatives.
Before reveille the next morning Bert Dodge stood up for nearly two rounds before the sledgehammer fists of Mr. Furlong.
When it was over, Dodge sought cadet hospital, remaining there until Monday morning, and returning to camp looking somewhat the worse for wear.
Along with truth, honor and courtesy, tenderest chivalry toward woman is one of the fairest flowers of the West Point teaching.
Fellows like yearling Dodge cannot be taught. They can only be insulted to the fighting point, and then pummelled. Cadet Furlong went to considerable inconvenience, though uncomplainingly, for two young women whom he had not the pleasure of knowing.