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."
"It is the feeling with all the members of the yearling class that
you should be present."
Prescott looked at his visitor intently for a moment.
Dick understood, now. He had taken "too little" interest in the
hazing of b.j. plebes, and the class did not want to see its president
shirk any duties that might be considered his, either as yearling
or as class president.
"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.
It may lead to discovery---and dismissal.
"I wonder if some of the fellows think I keep away from hazing
simply because I'm afraid of risking my neck?" yawned Dick. "They
practically insist on my sitting in to-night, do they? Oh, well!"
The hop took more men away from camp than usual that night. Other
cadets met friends from the hotel or officers' quarters at post
number one.
But over in Dunstan's tent a considerable group of yearlings gathered.
A few, in fact, were obliged to stand outside. This they did
in such a way as not to attract the attention of the O.C. or any
chance tac.
Dick was there, and with him were Holmes and Anstey, to both of
whom had been conveyed a hint as strong as that which had reached
the class president. Furlong, Griffin and Dobbs were in the tent.
Jessup and Aldrich were there as a matter of fact.
On the still night air came the clanging of eight on the big clock
down in the group of barracks and Academic Building. Just as
the strokes were pealing forth Plebes Briggs and Ellis came up
the street and stood at the front pole of Dunstan's tent.
"Come in, beasties," summoned Furlong. "We are awaiting you."
Neither plebe looked over joyous as the pair entered.
"Stand there, misters," ordered Dick, pointing to the space that
had been reserved for the victims of the affair. "Now, misters,
there is some complaint that you have mistaken West Point for a
theatrical training school. The susp
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