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Hancock, H. Irving (Harrie Irving), 1868-1922

"Dick Prescotts's Fourth Year at West Point Ready to Drop the Gray for Shoulder Straps"

Then it was
quiet again, and his ears seemed preternaturally keen.
So sharp was his hearing, in fact, that he heard a sound that
did not reach the ears of the other cadet or the latter's companion.
It was someone else coming. With all the stealth in the world
Dick now managed to slip around the end of the building and toward
the front.
A cadet had stepped out as though seeking a breath of cool air
between dances. Dick darted forward on tiptoe until he recognized
the oncoming one. It was Douglass, president of the first class.
"Mr. Douglass!" whispered Dick, stopping squarely before his successor
in class honors.
Douglass, without looking at his appealing fellow classman, or opening
his lips to answer, stepped around Prescott.
But Dick caught his unwilling comrade firmly by the arm.
"Douglass," he whispered, "in the name of justice, listen to me
just an instant---a swift instant, too! I think the chance has
come to clear me of the load of dislike and contempt with which
I am regarded here. This appeal is between man and man! Jordan
is around the corner, telling a stranger how he trapped me and
got me into disgrace with the class. As a matter of cadet justice
and honor, I beg you to go softly to the corner and hear what
is being said. Do not let Jordan suspect that you are near.
What he is saying will clear me. Go, and go softly, I beg you,
as a matter of justice from one man to another!"
All the time that Dick had held his arm Douglass had stood there,
not seeking to snatch himself free.


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