Jordan
was a regrettable but military necessity."
"Is that all we wish to ask, gentlemen?" inquired Durville, turning
to his six companions.
"It ought to be," retorted Brown dryly.
The seven nodded very coldly. Durville turned on his heel, leading
the others away.
"Unless I'm a poor kitchen judge, old ramrod, your goose is cooked,"
muttered Greg Holmes mournfully.
"Then it will have to be," spoke Dick resolutely.
"But you haven't told even me how you came to be, last night, just
where you could fall afoul of Jordan so nicely."
"Old chum," cried Dick, turning and resting a hand on Greg's right
arm, "I can discuss that matter no further with you than I did with
the class committee."
"You're a queer old extremist, anyway, with all your notions of
duty and other bugaboos. This affair has given me the shivers."
"Then cheer up, Holmesy!" laughed Cadet Captain Prescott.
"Oh, it's you I'm shivering for," muttered Greg.
CHAPTER V
THE CADET "SILENCE" FALLS
Six companies of sun-browned, muscular young men marched away to
cadet mess hall that evening.
If any of these cadets were more than properly fatigued, none
of them betrayed the fact. Their carriage was erect, their step
springy and martial. In ranks their faces were impassive, but
when they filed into the mess hall, seated themselves at table
and glanced about, an orderly Babel broke loose.
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