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Dick Prescott's Third Year at West Point, a novel by H. Irving Hancock |
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Chapter 17. Mr. Cadet Slowpoke |
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_ CHAPTER XVII. MR. CADET SLOWPOKE Despite the fact that he had been through the first half of the year before, Haynes actually did go somewhat stale in some of the studies. Some of the cadets who lived near enough were permitted to go home at the Christmas holidays, and the turnback was among this number. Yet Haynes came back. In the January examinations he stood badly, getting place rather near the foot of the second class. Yet he pulled through and retained his place in the corps. Dick and Greg, who did not go home over the holidays, both did fairly well in January. Each secured a number not far above the bottom of the second third of the class. On Washington's Birthday, the cadets had a holiday after dinner. The day, however, was ten-fold joyous for Dick, because Mrs. Bentley, Laura and Belle Meade were expected on the afternoon of that day, the girls to attend the cadet hop at Cullum Hall in the evening. Dick and Greg, in their spooniest uniforms, were at the railway station to meet the visitors. "Quick!" cried Mrs. Bentley, after the greetings were over. "There's the stage, and its about to start. We'll all get seats in it." "If that is the programme, Mrs. Bentley," laughed Dick, "Greg and I will have to overtake you, later on, on foot. Cadets are not allowed to ride in the stage. "Can't you telephone for a carriage, then?" inquired Mrs. Bentley. "Certainly, and with pleasure, but cadets may not ride in a carriage, either." "Oh, you poor cadets!" cried Mrs. Bentley. "To think of your having to climb that steep road ahead. And its ever so long, too!" "You get in the stage, mother, and Belle and I will walk up the road with Dick and Greg," proposed Laura Bentley. So the two cadets busied themselves with assisting Mrs. Bentley into the stage, after which they returned to their fair friends. "Now, I have trouble in store for you two young men," declared Belle Meade, frowning. "Why did you young men conspire to beat the Navy at football?" "For the honor and glory of the Army," replied Dick, smiling. "To put humiliation over your old chums, Dave and Dan," flashed Belle. "Laura and I were down at Annapolis, at a hop last month, as you may have heard. Poor Dave hasn't yet recovered from the blow of seeing the Navy lose that game to the Army!" "But I'll wager he didn't blame us," retorted Prescott, his eyes twinkling. "He said that, if it hadn't been for you and Greg, the Navy would have won the game," retorted Belle. "I hope that's true," declared Dick boldly. "Oh, you do, Mister Prescott? And why?" asked Belle. "Because I belong to the Army, and I want always to see the Army win." "If West Point defeats Annapolis next Thanksgiving, and if its because of you and Greg, then I'll never speak to either of you again," asserted Belle. "Come along, Dick," laughed Laura. "Belle's positively dangerous when she talks about the Navy!" "The Navy is the only real branch of the service," declared Belle, with a toss of her head. "Everybody says so. The Army is merely nothing---positive zero!" "Laughing good-humoredly, Greg piloted Belle up the long, winding walk that leads to the West Point plain. Dick and Laura soon fell in behind, at some distance, walking very slowly. "Did you have a tiresome trip here?" inquired Dick. "No; a very pleasant one," Laura replied. "I should think a long journey would be tedious to women traveling without male escort," Dick went on. "We had escort as far as New York," Laura replied promptly. "Oh, you did?" inquired Prescott, feeling a swift sinking at heart. "Yes; Mr. Cameron had to make a flying trip to New York. He had to come at about this time, so he put it off for three or four days in order to travel through with us. Wasn't that nice of him?" "Extremely nice of him," admitted the cadet rather huskily. "I---I suppose he will return with you from New York." "We expect him to," Laura admitted. "But what a great game that must have been, Dick! How I wish Belle and I had gone over to Philadelphia to see it." "It was an exciting game, and a hard-fought one." Laura chatted on gayly, and at the same time displayed much enthusiasm over the life at West Point. Yet Dick, though he strove to conceal the fact, was low spirited over the attentions of Mr. Cameron. The two cadets had permission to visit at the hotel, so went into the parlor until the girls joined them there. Later, as there was no snow on the ground, a stroll about the post was proposed and enjoyed. Dick made out Laura's card for the dance that night, while Greg attended to Belle's. Many were the cadets who glared at Dick and Greg for not having inscribed their names on the dance cards of these two very "spoony femmes." (pretty girls.) After one of her dances with Dick, Belle asked him to lead her out into the corridor, where the air was cooler. "Shall I go after your wrap?" asked Dick solicitously. "Goodness, no," replied Belle. "I'm not as sensitive as that." Then, abruptly changing the subject, Miss Meade asked: "What do you think of Mr. Cameron?" "I saw very little of him," Dick replied. "But what do you think of him?" Belle insisted. "I think that, if he is Laura's friend, he must be a fine fellow," Dick replied with enthusiasm. A slight shudder of disappointment passed over Belle. "Are you beginning to feel chilly, Belle?" asked Dick anxiously. "If I am, its nervously, not because I am really cold," replied Miss Meade dryly. "Why did you ask me what I think of Mr. Cameron?" "Because I am interested in knowing," Belle answered. "Mr. Cameron is with Laura a great deal these times." "Is he?" asked Dick, with another sinking at the heart. "Oh, yes," Belle replied. "Some folks in Gridley are nodding their heads wisely, and pretending they can guess what is going to happen before long. But I'm very certain that there is nothing quite definite as yet. Indeed, I'm not quite sure that Laura really knows her own mind as yet." Soon after that, Miss Meade requested to be conducted back into the ballroom, to find Greg, who was to be her next partner. "Now, good gracious, I hope I've really given Cadet Slowpoke a broad enough hint," thought Belle. "If he doesn't go ahead and speak to Laura now, it'll be because he doesn't care. And Leonard Cameron isn't a bad fellow, even if he does prefer the yardstick to a sword!" As for Dick, his evening was spoiled. His sense of honor prevented his "speaking" to Laura until he felt that his future in the Army was assured. Yet spoiled as his evening was, Prescott did his best to make it a bright occasion for Laura Bentley. The next morning, while the members of the cadet corps were grinding at recitations, or boning over study desks in barracks, Mrs. Bentley and the girls rode down the slope in the stage and boarded a train for New York. Dick had not "spoken." _ |
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