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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 out of an inner pocket he drew a little box, drew out a circlet
of gold in which a solitaire glistened, and slipped the ring over
the finger set apart for the purpose of wearing such pledges.
"And how soon, Laura---sweetheart?" he demanded eagerly.
"Now, as to that, you must act like a creature of reason," Laura
laughingly insisted. "You are not yet in the Army. At first,
after you do receive your commission, you must be saving and careful.
It needs furniture and all those things, you see, Dick, dearest,
to form the background of a home. We must wait a little while---but
what sweet waiting it will be!"
"Won't it, though!" demanded Dick with fervor. "Laura, it seems
to me that I must be dreaming. I can scarcely realize my great
good fortune."
"Nor can I," replied Laura softly. "You have always been my boy
knight, Dick."
As they stepped inside and approached their nearest friends, Belle
murmured in Greg's ear:
"Look at the electric glow that comes from the third finger of
Laura's left hand. Now, do you comprehend, booby, what a fatal
mistake you would have made, had I allowed you to tag them around
to the cliff?"
"Well, I'm jiggered!" gasped Cadet Holmes. "Which means that
I'm petrified with delight."
"Get practical, then," chided Belle. "Take me forward to them,
and we'll have the happiness of being the first to congratulate
the newest arrivals in paradise!"
Two minutes later, the leader of the orchestra swung his baton.


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