y hope to abolish hazing utterly at West Point?

CHAPTER VIII

DICK BONES TROUBLE

As May drew on towards June there was, among the yearlings, a
noticeable falling off of interest in hazing. Every second-year man
in the corps found himself much more interested in his standing in
his studies than formerly.

Several of the yearlings had reason to feel acutely concerned over
their standing in academic work. That some of them would be "found"
and dropped from the corps on account of their deficiencies was almost
a foregone conclusion.

So the warm nights of May found anxious young men in all the
classes boning up to within a few minutes of the sound of taps.

Least anxious of all the cadets were the scores of new plebes. They
had been required to report in March mainly that they might
acquire the proper West Point habits of study and recitation before
going into the summer encampment. Hence these new plebes were
not to be treated very searchingly in the academic work.

One afternoon Greg, who had felt half ailing for twenty-four hours,
went on sick report and walked to the hospital to consult the
medical officer in charge.

Captain Goodwin looked Greg over and ordered him to remain at
hospital that night for observation and treatment, declaring that the
young plebe would doubtless be all right by morning.

Cadet Prescott was alone in their room, boning hard, at about nine
that evening, when a member of the cadet guard informed him that
he was wanted by the O.C. It was only to make an explanation of
something trivial that had occurred that afternoon.

As Dick rose, placing his desk in order, he decided to turn off the
gas during his absence. This he did, then left the room.

Crossing the area he climbed the stairs to the office of the O.C.
Pausing at the threshold, he saluted, then was bidden to enter.

Dick's report was quickly made. He was then permitted to return to
quarters.

As Cadet Prescott threw open his door the room was in darkness,
hardly any light entering from the hallway.

As Dick stepped into the room he was startled to see a dimly
defined figure bending over his cot.

In the poor light it seemed to Prescott that the intruder wore the
attire of a "cit."

Now, no civilian had any right in the room, nor in cadet barracks,
for that matter. Prescott's first swift conclusion was that some
scoundrel was there for wholly improper purposes.

"You rascal, I've got you!" exclaimed the pleb