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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"


Nor did he utter a word. The class president stood there, like
a statue, looking straight past Prescott, as though he did not
know that such a being existed anywhere in the world.
Now, with despair tugging at his heart, Prescott released his hold.
Cadet Douglass moved forward again. Dick stood watching his brother
cadet with a feeling of despair until he saw that Douglass was
moving softly. Dick saw him go quietly around the corner of the
building. Now, Dick was at his heels, stealthy as any Indian
could have been, until he looked around the corner and saw that
Cadet Douglass had slipped into the same shadow that Dick himself
had occupied until a moment before.
"Now, if that pair yonder will only go on talking about me for
sixty seconds!" thought Dick in a frenzy.
Again he flew toward the front of the building. There was just
one other cadet outside---Durville, the man whom he had been obliged
to report for a tremendously grave breach of discipline.
But Dick Prescott's courage was up now. He raced forward, fairly
gripping Durville and holding him tight.
"Durville, listen to me for just a moment," begged Dick. "I know
you don't like me, but you're a man of honor. Jordan is on the
east side of this building, and I believe he is confessing a plot
that he put into successful operation against me. Douglass is
already there listening.


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