Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: May 18, 2025
"Say, wouldn't it be mighty nice if only we could get some home letters here?" asked Hazelton, as the three left the cart at the curb and turned to enter the post-office. "We can look for home letters on our next trip here," Dick suggested. "On Tom's, Greg's and Dan's letters I'm going to add a note on the outside of the envelope to the effect that letters may be sent to this office for us.
"There are some marching down with us who won't be marching with us to the next place, I am afraid," whispered Holmes. "I imagine so," whispered Dick, with a nod. "Say," murmured Greg, his cheek suddenly blanching, "just how much chest expansion do the surgeons demand in the case of a fellow standing five-seven in his stocking feet?" There was a note almost of panic in Greg's voice.
They entered the bus at the station, and were driven up, across the plain, to the hotel. After dinner, the girls waited in pleasant expectancy for Dick and Greg to send up their cards. Greg's card came up, alone. Anstey was back in quarters with Dick. "Well?" cried Dick, darting up, his eyes shining wildly when Greg finally threw open the door. "Oh, bosh!" cried Greg jubilantly.
Then he let go, on the last swing, landing on his feet well behind the bushes. Dave came next, Tom following. Now the three Indians hurried on again, Big Injun Dick in the lead as before. "If we do throw them off, Greg's fighting men will have a hard job hitting the trail again," chuckled Tom. "If they don't find our trail, Dick, where are you headed for?" whispered Dave.
In the closing period of the next forenoon Dick's section did not recite. Greg's did. So Prescott was left alone in the room with his books. Despite himself, Greg was so worried, during that recitation, that he "fessed cold" -that is, he secured a mark but a very little above zero. As soon as the returning section was dismissed Cadet Holmes, his heart beating fast, hurried to his room.
An hour later, however, Greg's fevered imaginings were cut short by word that was brought over to him from the cadet guard house. Prescott had reported by wire. He had fallen from the rear car of the train into a river. The telegram merely stated that he had made his way to the nearest village, where a clergyman had provided him with the funds needed for his return to West Point.
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.
Holmes," observed Cadet Corporal Brayton dryly, "clenched fists do not go with the position of the soldier. Let your hands fall naturally at your sides, each little finger resting against the seam of the trousers, or where you judge the seam to be." Again the blood shot up to the roots of Greg's hair, suffusing his face. But Mr.
"Greg's house ought to be the best place to keep the push cart over night," Dick continued. "I'll have the cart there at four this afternoon. Suppose you fellows meet us there, with your bedding and clothing for the trip?" This also was agreed upon. While the boys stood there chatting not one of them suspected how eagerly they were being watched by two pairs of eyes.
It was on, with a rush, and a cheer, led by some eight measures of music from the Military Academy Band, which had been quiet for a few minutes. Then the cheer settled down, for Prescott found himself facing Dan Dalzell at the bat, with Darrin on deck. "Wipe 'em!" signaled Greg's antics.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking