a fellow as Prescott
realize that he simply can't go on with us? That we won't have him
with us?"

"Oh, I think there's a way," smiled the other cadet.

"Then I wonder why some one doesn't find it?" demanded Jordan
wrathfully.

"We shall, I think."

Greg scented new mischief in the air, yet he was hardly the one to
do the scouting.

Anstey, however, could look about for the news, and he could properly
discuss it with Cadet Holmes.

With the beginning of the last half of the year the members of the
first class found themselves sufficiently busy with their studies.
Dick's affair was allowed to slumber for a few days.

Even Cadet Jordan, whose sole purpose now in life was to "work"
Prescott out of the corps, was clever enough to assent to letting
the matter rest for a few days.

After another fortnight, however, the first class, in its moments
of leisure, especially in the brief rests right after meals, again
began to throb over what was considered the brazen and open defiance
of Dick Prescott in persisting in remaining a cadet at the Military
Academy.

So many members of the class, however, insisted on going slowly
and with great deliberation that the Jordan faction did not make
the mistake of rushing matters. At any rate, Prescott was in
Coventry, and there he would stay.

Thus February came on and passed slowly. To all outward appearances
Prescott was as selfpossessed and contented as ever he had been
while at the Military Academy.

Now, Army baseball was the topic. The nine and other members
of the baseball squad were practising in earnest. Durville had
been chosen to captain the nine.

Though there was some mighty good material in the nine, neither the
coaches nor Durville were wholly satisfied.

"Holmesy," broached Durville plaintively one day, "you play a
grand game of football."

"Thank you," replied Greg, with a pretense of mock modesty; "I
know it."

"And you must play a great game of ball, too."

"I did once---pardon these blushes. Dick Prescott was my old trainer
in baseball."

"Oh, bother Prescott! We can't have him."

"I don't play well without him," remarked Greg blandly.

"Come over to practice this afternoon, won't you?"

"Yes; but I don't believe I'll try for the nine."

"Come over and let us see your style, any way."

Greg turned up late that afternoon for practice. What he showed
the captain and coaches had them fairly "rattled" with desire to
slip Greg into the