CONCLUSION
For most of the young men at West Point the academic year now
came swiftly and joyously to an end.
True, some score and a half of plebes were found deficient, and
sent back to their homes.
The same thing happened to a few of the third classmen.
All of the members of the first class succeeded in passing and
in graduating into the Army.
The poor plebes who had failed had been mournfully departing, one
at a time.
These unhappy, doleful young men felt strangely uncouth in the
citizens' clothes that they had regained from the cadet stores.
Yet everyone of these plebes received many a handshake from the
upper classmen and a hearty good wish for success in life.
More doleful still felt the dropped third classmen, who had been
at the Military Academy for two years, and who had thoroughly
expected to "get through" into the Army somehow.
It was now a little before the time when cadets must hasten to
quarters to attire themselves for dress parade.
Several score of cadets still lingered in the quadrangle when
Greg Holmes and Pierson suddenly appeared, heading straight for
one of the largest groups, in which Dick Prescott stood.
"Heard any news lately?" asked Greg, a pleased twinkle in his eyes.
"Nothing startling. We've been supplying new, dry handkerchiefs
to the poor, late plebes," answered Brayton.
"Haven't heard about that fellow Haynes?" asked Greg.
"Nothing," admitted Brayton.
"Well, you see," exclaimed Pierson, "Haynes made up his mind to
disregard the grand cut. He determined to stick it out, anyway,
even for a whole year."
"He'll have a sweet time of it, then," put in Spurlock dryly.
"I never heard of a fellow who got the general cut lasting a whole
year here before."
"That was Haynes's decision, anyway," went on Pierson. "This
is no guess work. The fellow told me so himself."
"I reckon, suh, maybe we'll be able to change his mind," drawled
Anstey.
"No you won't," broke in Greg decisively. "Haynes got in bad
on the last two days of general review. Chemistry and Spanish
verbs threw him. So he was ordered up for a writ (written
examination) in both subjects. He fessed frozen on both of them.
He applied for a new examination in a fortnight, but the fact
that Haynes was already a turnback went against him."
"He's `found,' eh?" questioned Brayton, smiling gleefully.
"Dropped," nodded Pierson.
"Fired!" added Greg, with a look of satisfaction. "There's no
getting around the truth of the old superstition, fellows!"
The "old superstition" to which Holmes referred is one intensely
believed in the cadet corps. While there is nothing whatever to
prevent a sneak from being admitted to the United States Military
Academy, the cadets believe firmly that a dishonorable fellow is
bound to be caught, before he graduates, and that he will be
kicked promptly out of the service by one means or another.
"Has the fellow gone yet?" inquired Spurlock.
"He'll slip away while the rest of us are away at dress parade,
I guess," responded Pierson. "Haynes is in cit. clothes already,
and is just fussing around a bit."
"He must feel fine!" muttered Brayton musingly. "I could almost
say `poor fellow.'"
"So could I," agreed Prescott, with a good deal of feeling. "It
would break my heart to be compelled to leave the corps, except
at graduation, so I can imagine how any other fellow must feel."
"Oh, well, he'd never be happy in the Army, anyway," replied Spurlock.
"Out in the Army the other officers can take care of a dishonorable
comrade even more effectively than we do."
"What made Haynes fess out, I wonder?" pondered Brayton aloud.
"Being sent to Coventry got on his nerves so that he couldn't pull
up enough at review and the writs," replied Pierson. "He wasn't
one of the bright men, anyway, in the section rooms."
"By Jove, suh! There's the fellow now!" muttered Anstey.
The others turned slightly to see Haynes, out of the gray uniform
that he had disgraced, wearing old cit. clothes and carrying a suit
case, step out and cross the quadrangle to the office of the K.C.
A few minutes later, Haynes came out of the cadet guard house.
Knowing that he would never have the ordeal to face again, Haynes
summoned all his "brass" to the surface and stepped down the length
of the quadrangle. He passed many groups of curious cadets, none
of whom, however, sent a look or a word to him.
Then on out through the east sally-port strode Haynes. On the
sidewalk beyond, he passed Captain Albutt. Haynes did not salute
the officer; he didn't have to. Even had Haynes saluted, Captain
Albutt could not have returned this military courtesy, for Haynes
was no longer a member of the American Military establishment.
* * * * * * *
On the afternoon of the day following the graduating exercises
came to a brilliant finish at Cullum Hall. Brayton, Spurlock
and their classmates were honorably through with West Point, their
new careers about to open before them.
Cadet Dick Prescott came forth from the exercises, a look of radiant
happiness on his face.
He had been ordered before a board of surgeons that morning. Just
as a formality he was to go before a medical board again in August.
"But that's only a piece of red tape," Captain Goodwin had explained
to him. "By wonderful good luck, or rather, no doubt, thanks to
Captain Albutt's gallantry, your spine is now as sound as ever.
Come before us in August, but I can tell you now that the August
verdict will be O.K."
"My, but you look like the favorite uncle of the candy kid!" muttered
Greg, as the two chums in gray strode along together.
"Why shouldn't I?" retorted Dick. "My spine is all right, and
I'm to stay in the service. Then besides, Greg, old fellow, think
what we are now."
"Well, what are we?" asked Greg.
"First classmen! Only a year more, Greg, to the glorious old Army!
Think of it, boy! In blue, in a year, and wearing shoulder-straps!"
"I wish we had just graduated, like Brayton, Spurlock and the rest,"
muttered Greg.
"You want to rush things, don't you, lad?"
"But Dick, you see," murmured Holmes, "a cadet can't marry."
"Oh, still harping on Miss Number Three?" laughed his chum.
"Number---thr-----" stammered Greg.
"You don't mean to say that it is all off with Miss Number Three?"
"Oh, yes; months ago."
"She broke the engagement?"
"Yes," admitted Holmes. "But I don't care."
"What's the present girl's number?" teased Dick.
"Five," confessed Greg with desperate candor. "But this girl,
Dick, is worth all the others. And she'll stick. After all, it's
only a year, now, that she'll have to wait."
At this point, however, we find Dick and Greg to be first classmen.
So their further adventures are necessarily reserved for the
next and concluding volume in this series, which will be published
under the title, "_Dick Prescott's Fourth Year At West Point;
Or, Ready to Drop the Gray for Shoulder Straps_." All we need
to tell the reader is that this coming volume will contain the
most rousing story of all in the _West Point Series_.
THE END