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And at once every cadet settled down and started in an orderly fashion to finish his morning toilet. "What was the noise in here?" demanded Josiah Crabtree, as he threw open the door and strode into the dormitory. He glared around savagely, but nobody answered him. "I demand to know what was going on here!" he continued. "Mr. Crabtree, did you speak to me?" asked Pepper, meekly.
So strong was his will that Prescott was actually almost light-hearted when it came around time to eat his evening meal of "thin slops." Over in cadet barracks interest ran at full height. Greg had to receive scores of cadets who dropped in to inquire for the best word. One of the last of these to come was Cadet Haynes. Greg received him rather frigidly, though with no open breach of courtesy.
"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.
Mayhew, forgot to say “sir” when speaking to Hastings. Sam Truax edged up behind the big cadet whose eyes he had seen flash a few moments before. “Go after Benson, good and hard,” whispered Truax. The cadet looked keenly at Truax. “You can have a lot of fun with Benson,” whispered Truax, “if you fire a lot of questions at him, hard and fast.
For a second Connel stood frozen in horror, staring at the overturned truck and the tangle of twisted metal that was the jet car. Then he lunged forward with a frantic cry. "Corbett! Corbett!" "Tom! Tom!" Connel knelt beside the limp form of the Space Cadet, calling frantically, praying that the boy would be miraculously unhurt, yet fearing the worst.
"Stand easy, Manning," replied Strong. "Do you recognize this room?" "Yes, sir. It's a mock-up of a radar bridge." "A workable mock-up, cadet!" Strong was vaguely irritated by Roger's nonchalance in accepting a situation that Tom had marveled at. "You will take your manuals here!" "Yes, sir."
"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.
Roger cast a quick appraising glance over the shabbily dressed man and walked to the table. Unless someone knew Roger personally, it would have been hard to recognize him. No longer wearing the vivid blue of the senior Space Cadet, he was now dressed in black trousers fitting snugly around the legs, a midnight blue pull-over jersey, and the black-billed hat of the merchant spaceman.
In the countryside they were called M. le Marquis and M. le Cadet, the nobles then not being at all like the chance nobility of our time, which wishes to establish an hereditary hierarchy in titles; for the son of a marquis is no more a count, nor the son of a viscount a baron, than a son of a general is a colonel by birth. But the contemptible vanity of today finds profit in that arrangement.
There was the flash and report of muskets from the house, and Coulon dropped in the snow, severely wounded. The young cadet, Lusignan, was hit in the shoulder; but he still pushed on, when a second shot shattered his thigh. "Friends," cried the gallant youth, as he fell by the side of his commander, "don't let two dead men discourage you."
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