Dick's tent being at the head of the street, he was quite near
enough to the music. But he was not long in noting that both
cadet escorts and cadets without young ladies took pains not to
approach too close to where he sat. It was enough to fill him
with savage bitterness, though he still strove to be just to his
classmates who had been blinded by Cadet Jordan's villainous scheme.
Of a sudden the band struck up its lively opening march. Just
at that moment Prescott became aware of the fact that Greg Holmes
was lifting out a campstool and was placing it beside him.
"Well," announced Greg, "I've found out all there is behind the
silence."
"I took it for granted that was your purpose," Dick responded.
"Aren't you anxious to hear the news, old ramrod?"
"Yes; very."
"I'm hanged if you look anxious!" muttered Greg, studying his
chum's face keenly.
"I fancy I've got to display a good deal of skill in masking my
feelings," smiled Dick wearily.
"Oh, I don't know," returned Cadet Holmes hopefully. "It may not
turn out to be so bad."
"Then a permanent silence hasn't been imposed?"
"Not yet," replied Greg.
"By which, I suppose, you mean that the length of the silence has
not yet been decided upon."
"It hasn't," Greg declared. "It was only after the biggest, swiftest
and hardest kind of campaign, in fact, that the class was swung
around to the silence.
Pages:
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60