"There isn't much to choose between you," admitted coach. "I wish
we could always look for such men on our Army teams."
"You can one of these days, sir."
"When will that day come?"
"It will come, sir, when public-spirited citizens everywhere go in
strongly for athletics in the High Schools, as they did in the town
where Holmes and I received our earlier training."
The letter from Cadet Prescott's mother came almost by return
mail. She had never for a moment lost faith, she wrote, that
all would come out right with her boy, and she was heartily glad
that her faith had been justified. She was sorry, indeed, for
that unfortunate other cadet whose enmity for Dick had been his
own undoing in the long run.
It was some days later when Laura's letter reached the now eager
pitcher of the Army nine.
Now that letter was cordial enough in every way, and Laura made
no secret of her delight and of her pride in her friend.
"Yet there's something lacking here," murmured Prescott uneasily,
as he read the letter through once more. "What is it? Laura
writes as if she were trying to show more reserve with me than
she did once. What is the matter? Has she cooled toward me at
just the time when I shall soon be able to offer her my name and
my future?"
The thought was torment. Nor, of course, did Dick fail to remember
all about that prosperous and agreeable Gridley merchant, Leonard
Cameron, who, for upwards of two years, had been one of Miss Bentley's
most devoted admirers.
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