To Prescott there was one big comfort about being back in the
old, gray cadet barracks.
The silence put upon Dick was not now quite as much in evidence.
With long study hours, Prescott had not so much need to meet his
classmates.
In the section rooms nothing in the deportment of the other cadets
could emphasize the silence.
It was only in the authorized visiting hours that Prescott noted
the change keenly.
Of course, according to the traditions of the Military Academy,
Anstey and all the other loyal friends who ached to call were
barred from so doing.
While taps sounds at ten o'clock, and members of the three lower
classes must be in bed, with lights out, at the first sound of
taps, first classmen are privileged, whenever they wish, to run
a light until eleven at night, provided the extra time be spent
in study.
One evening in early September, Dick and Greg were both busy at
study table, when Dick chanced to look over some papers connected
with his studies. As he did so, he drew out an officially backed
sheet, and started.
"Jupiter!" he muttered. "I should have turned this in before
supper formation."
"Who gets the report?" asked Greg, looking up.
"It goes to the officer in charge," Dick answered.
"Oh, well, he's up yet. You can slip over to his office with
it," replied Greg easily.
"And I'll do it at once. It may mean a demerit or two, for lack
of punctuality, but I'm glad it's no worse.
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