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The silence by this time had ceased to be literal, except so far as it applied to Dick. Other cadets at his table talked among themselves, though never to Prescott. Greg, being Dick's roommate, was the sole cadet exempted from this rule. But the men at Prescott's table restrained their curiosity until the two battalions had marched back to barracks and had been dismissed.
In engineering and law, the studies of this term which called for the most exacting thought, Prescott showed unusual signs of "maxing," or getting among the highest marks. Yet, after all this was done, so much leisure did the lonely Dick have that he found time to coach Greg and pull him along over the hard parts. "Look at that fellow recite!
"Oh, Alice, Alice!" he protested, really distressed, "don't ever let anyone hear you say that! Why, that only shows that you don't know what Greg is. Lord, the man seems to have an absolute instinct for bones; he'll take a chance when not one of the rest will!
"I have the papers right here, drawn up for your signatures, but I'm afraid we can't hold the offer open." "I don't know, we might want to do some mining ourselves," Greg said. "For all we know, Dad might have struck some rich ore on one of those claims." Tawney laughed. "I hardly think so. Those claims were all Jupiter Equilateral rejects.
Greg said that they were fairy wash-basins. He also found a drowned field-mouse and a sparrow. He was frightfully sorry about it, and carried them around wrapped up in a warm flannel till Mother begged him to give them a military funeral. Jerry soaked all the labels off a cigar-box, and then burned a most beautiful inscription on the lid with his pyrography outfit.
"In the next place, then," Dick replied, "we shall devote a good deal of our time, while away, to the pleasurable excitement of fishing." "Perhaps you won't be able to get away," Greg retorted, "if you go on stringing us in that fashion. I warn you that we're becoming impatient." "That's right," nodded Dave Darrin. "Get down to actual particulars, Dick."
It must be something both sudden and important to make Greg change his mind so swiftly. For Cadet Holmes, who, in his home town, had not been exactly noted for gallantries to the other sex, had, in the yearling class, acquired the reputation of being a good deal of a "spoonoid." This is the term applied to a cadet who displays a decided liking for feminine company.
"Can't help what?" demanded Dick thunder-struck. "I can't help what I've gone and done. I had to do it!" cried Greg, with sudden fierceness in his tone. "What you've done?" echoed Dick. "Well, what have you gone and done, anyway, old fellow? Does it stop anywhere short of murder or lying?" For in the West Point code of honor lying ranks very nearly as bad as murder.
If your father is unrelenting, it can make but little difference to us. Even though we may not agree about socialism, I'll let you have your way. Everything has come out right at last, Greg. Isn't it splendid!" Before he realized her intention, one of her arms slipped round his neck. At that moment Juanita Garcia passed the entrance to that little nook and saw them.
Advancing, placing his lips against one of Greg's ears, Prescott whispered the name: "Haynes! But you mustn't breathe this to a living soul! Remember, I wouldn't dare swear to the truth of what I've hinted to you." Greg Holmes, wholly and utterly loyal to the cadet corps of which he was himself an honored member, went even paler. He leaned back against the wall, clenching his fists tightly.
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