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Now, sit up, won't you, and get your thinking cap on?" "Have you talked with any of the other men?" "Yes; and they all agree that a soiree must be given to Mr. Ellis, and that you should be present." "What is the call for me, Milesy? "You are the class president." "But this is no affair that involves the honor of the class. Therefore, as president, I cannot see that there is any call for me."
"You mustn't be permitted to get chilled. Exercise is what you need." Dick paused. "Poor, young Mr. Briggs stood mute, blinking back. "Milesy, may Mr. Briggs have the use of your piece for a few minutes?" "Why, surely," declared Cadet Furlong in a tone of great cordiality. "Mr. Briggs, take Mr. Furlong's piece, and go through the silent manual of arms," ordered the president of the yearling class.
Furlong demanded. "Milesy," laughed Dick, "you should never go out on a kidding expedition until you're sure you're josh-proof yourself. Do you think anything less than the coaches and the team captain could stop me from pitching? But I sorry for Ken, if I'm to supplant him." "You needn't be. Kennedy is glad.
"Not never!" retorted Greg with ungrammatical emphasis. "It won't be just the thing for old ramrod and myself to have it, either. Milesy, you and Dunstan take it along with you. Now, old ramrod, just what had we better do?"
"I think you've proved your right, on this and other occasions," laughed Dick quietly. "Go ahead, please, Milesy." "This is not place for a fight," continued Furlong, "and this crowd had better break up, or we shall be seen and there'll be an inquiry from the tactical department. As Prescott's friend, I will say that he is prepared to give full satisfaction to both men.
"Very good, Milesy," replied Dick quietly. "You may inform all anxious inquirers that I'll be on hand. Where and at what hour?" "Eight o'clock, in Dunstan's tent." "Very good." Furlong arose with a satisfied look on his face. He had, in fact, been deputed by others to make sure that Prescott would be on hand. There is always a good deal of risk attendant on hazing.
"Perhaps it can't be done," suggested Dick. "It must be done!" uttered Furlong savagely. "Well, I can't think of any yearling better suited to the task that you are, Milesy!" "One man? or one tentful, isn't equal to any such gigantic piece of work!" retorted Furlong. "Ramrod, you've got to appoint a class committee to take these two baboons in hand. It ought to be done this very night, too.
"My appetite doesn't resemble sick report," laughed Dick. "But, while you don't really look ill, Milesy, it's very plain that you have something serious on your mind. Out with it! "I guess that will make me feel better," assented Furlong, with a sigh. "It's all that little plebe beast, Mr. Briggs." "Surely he hasn't been hazing you?" inquired Prescott, opening his eyes very wide.
"Of course, Mr. Dodge, you know what we found there. Brayton, you don't so you will interested in seeing the things. Milesy, be good enough to spread the collection on that table. Here, you see, first of all, is the cuff of yesterday. Even the writing, in India ink, remains on it. And here are reddish stains, made by the impact of that cuff with the tan-bark of the riding hall.
"What is it?" called Dick. "Sorry if I've roused you, old ramrod," murmured the caller. "That's all right, Milesy. Come in and rest yourself. You won't mind if I keep flat, will you? "Not in training for sick report?" asked Furlong, glancing down solicitously. But he saw the glow of robust health glowing through the deep coat of tan on Prescott's face.
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