Dick Prescott's Third Year at West Point Part 16

"Are you studying very hard, Anstey?" asked Greg, turning around, as the Virginian entered the door.

"Not very," drawled the Virginian. "I never did like haste and rush. I'm satisfied if I get through. I did hope to stand high enough to get into the cavalry, but now I think I'm going to be pleased if I get the doughboy's white trousers stripe."

The "doughboy" is an infantryman.

"I think I'm going to find it all easy enough, now, after I once get my gait. Thank goodness, we're past the daily math. grind."

"We'll all find plenty of math. in its application to other studies,"

sighed Prescott. "But what gets me is for an Army officer to have to be roundly coached in philosophy, as regards sound and light."

"And chemistry," groaned Greg, "with heat, mineralogy, geology and electricity. And how the instructors can draw out on the points that a fellow hasn't been able to get through his head!"

"Don't!" begged the Virginian. "It makes my temples throb. I've written mother, asking her to send me some headache powders.

Unless our third-year science instructors let up on us, I see myself eating headache powders like candy."

As Anstey turned the k.n.o.b, and started to go out, another cadet, about to enter, pushed door open and stepped inside.

"Howdy fellows," was the greeting of the newcomer.

"How do you do, Haynes?" asked d.i.c.k, though not over impressed by the newcomer.

Haynes was a former second cla.s.sman, who, on account of illness in the latter half of his third year, had been allowed to "turn back" and join the new second cla.s.s.

It often happens that a "turnback" is not extremely popular with the new cla.s.s that he joins. Not less often does it happen that the turnback wonders at the comparative lack of esteem shown him.

The reason, however, is very likely to be found in the fact that the turnback considers himself a mile or so above the new cla.s.s members with whom circ.u.mstances have compelled him to cast his lot.

It was so in this instance. Haynes felt that he was, properly, a first cla.s.sman. True, the members of the first cla.s.s, which he had fallen behind, did not take that view of the case.

"You fellows busy?" asked Haynes, as he took a seat across the foot of Prescott's cot bed.

"Oh, no more busy than cadets usually are," smiled d.i.c.k pleasantly.

"We are finding the new grind a hard one---that's all."

"Now, there's nothing very hard about the first half of the year in this cla.s.s," replied Haynes knowingly. "I've been through it you know."

"You're lucky," rejoined Greg. "We haven't been through it---yet."

Hayes, however, chose to regard what was meant as a slight hint.

"Don't bone too hard at this first-term stuff, fellows," he went on. "Save your energies for the second half of the academic year."

"I wonder whether we shall have any energies left by that time,"

replied Greg, opening one of his text-books in philosophy with a force that made the cover bang against the desk.

"Oh, go ahead and bone 'sound,' then, if you want," permitted Mr. Haynes. "I'll talk to Prescott. Old ramrod, I haven't seen you at any of the hops this year."

"Haven't had a femme to drag," replied d.i.c.k, as he picked up a sheet of notes and began to scan it.

"Why don't you turn pirate, then, as I do," yawned Haynes, "and get the fellows to write you down on the cards they're making up for their femmes?"

"I hadn't thought of that," replied d.i.c.k. "I don't believe, when I have no femme to drag to the hops, that it would make me any more popular with the fellows, either. A fellow who pirates at all should drag a spoony femme pretty often himself."

"Why," asked Hayes, opening his eyes rather wide, "are you boning bootlick with any but officers?"

"Boning bootlick" means to curry favor. Occasionally a cadet who wants cadet honors resorts to "boning bootlick" with the tactical officers stationed at the academy.

"I'm not boning bootlick with cadets or with officers either,"

retorted d.i.c.k rather crisply.

"I've never had the delight of wearing chevrons, you know."

Haynes flushed a trifle. The year before he had worn a sergeant's chevrons. This year, for some reason, he did not have the chevrons.

"Wearing chevrons isn't the only sign of bootlick," replied Haynes.

"Is it one of them?" smiled Prescott good-humoredly.

Again Haynes flushed. He had meant to take down this new member of the second cla.s.s, but found Prescott's tongue too ready.

"I don't know," replied Haynes shortly. "I've never been one of the authorities on bootlick."

"Nor I, either," laughed Prescott quietly. "So we won't be able to come to the point of any information on the subject, I'm afraid."

Greg, with his back turned to the visitor as he bent over the study desk, had been frowning for some time. Holmes wanted to study; he knew how badly he needed the time. But Haynes showed no sign of leaving the room.

Suddenly, Holmes closed his book, perhaps with a trifle more noise than was necessary.

"What you going to do, Greg?" inquired his chum, as Cadet Holmes rose stiffly, holding himself very erect in his natty gray uniform.

"I believe I'll get out for a while," replied Greg. "I---I really want to think a little while."

"Oh, I'll go, if you say so," volunteered Cadet Haynes, though without offering to rise.

"Not necessary," replied Greg briefly, and stepped over to the door, which he next closed---from the outside.

"Your roommate c.o.c.ky?" asked Haynes, with a short laugh.

"Holmes!" inquired d.i.c.k. "One of the best fellows in the world."

"Guess he didn't want visitors, then," grinned: Haynes. "He's a chump to bone hard all the time. Really, Prescott, you don't get any further with an excess of boning."

"I always try to get as high in my cla.s.s as I can," sighed d.i.c.k.

"True, that has never been extremely high yet. But a fellow wants to be well up, so he can spare a few numbers, in case anything happens, you know."

"I'd just as soon be anywhere above the three fellows at the bottom of the Gla.s.s," replied Haynes, stifling another yawn.

"Well, I hope you at least attain to your ambitions in the matter,"

replied d.i.c.k, regretfully eyeing two of his text-books that he wanted to dig into in turn. There was not a heap of study time left now, before the call came for supper formation.