visit."

"You see," almost apologized Anstey, "I want to see Prescott and
Holmes particularly because I've been talking over football with
them, and they've been telling me a lot about their high school
eleven that was right smart and interesting."

Bert said no more. If his ancient foes were going to tell Anstey
about the old football days back in Gridley, then Bert feared they
might be tempted to tell a lot that would bring up his unpopular
share in those spirited old days.

"But Prescott and his shadow won't dare to say anything against me
if I'm sitting right there in the room," muttered Bert to himself.

So he and Anstey presented themselves at Dick and Greg's door.
Bert was almost amazed to find himself pleasantly greeted, but
Dick and Greg were true to their decision to bury the hatchet of the
past if possible.

It was nearly time to light the gas. In the fading light Anstey
walked over to a window, watching the snow swirl down into the
area outside. At West Point the snowstorms are famous for their
severity.

"Hang it!" growled Anstey. "I don't suppose you can ever make a
Virginian like myself grow to like this beastly winter weather. And
I miss the drills and dress parade. Don't you?"

"Yes," nodded Dick. "I miss everything of an outdoor nature, when
it is withheld from me."

"Oh, if you're missing outdoors just now, you might go out and
keep on, within cadet limits, until you've tramped five miles,"
grinned the cadet from Virginia.

"If some of the upper class men found that we liked to be out in a
snowstorm, I'm afraid they'd make us stand on our heads in a
drift," laughed Cadet Holmes.

"Speaking of that," continued Anstey, wheeling about, "have any
of you fellows run into real hazing as yet?"

"Not I," replied Prescott, with a shake of his head.

"Nor I," added Greg.

"It's a shame that we should be expected to put up with any such
nonsense," growled Cadet Dodge belligerently. "Who are the
yearlings that they should feel at liberty to rub our noses in the
mud! We plebes ought to combine to put a stop to this outrage.
Now, I'd like to see any smart year--"

"Eh!" called a voice, cheerily, as the door was thrust open.
Yearling cadets Pratt and Judson stepped into the room.

Instantly three of the plebes present rose and stood at attention.
Bert Dodge didn't.

"What has got into your sense of military manners, mister!"
demanded Cadet Pratt, transfixing Bert with a haughty stare.

"Wha