"
"Does Prescott play to-day?" Dave asked eagerly.
The West Pointer's brow clouded.
"No," he replied. "Mr. Prescott isn't a subject for conversation
at the Military Academy. Mr. Prescott is in Coventry."
"Sad mistake," muttered Darrin.
"Eh?"
"A sad mistake. You men have made a bad bungle; I know it."
"It is a matter of internal discipline in the corps," replied
the West Point cadet, speaking much more coldly.
"Yes, I know it," Dave replied quickly, "and I beg your pardon
for having seemed to criticise the action of the Corps of Cadets.
However, anything that unpleasantly affects Dick Prescott is
a sore subject with me. Prescott is one of the best friends I
have in the world."
"Why, I've heard something about that," replied Fields in a less
constrained tone. "You and Mr. Prescott are old school cronies."
"Of the closest kind," Dave nodded. "That's why I feel certain
that Dick Prescott never did, and never could do, anything dishonorable.
You'll surely find it out before long, and then the Corps will make
full amends."
"I fear not," replied Cadet Fields. "Mr. Prescott had every
opportunity given him to clear himself, and failed to do so to
the satisfaction of the Corps. Therefore he'll never graduate
from the Military Academy. It wouldn't do him any good to try.
He'd only be ostracized in the Army if he had the cheek to stay
in the Corps."
"Let's not talk about that part of it any more," begged Dave.
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