Dick Prescott's Second Year at West Point, H. Irving Hancock [nice books to read .txt] 📗

for shopping trip in New York. Don't know where to reach them."

It was signed by Dr. Bentley. The yellow paper fluttered from Prescott's hands to the floor. Mechanically he picked it up and carried it to his study table.

"I can't stop them," he muttered dismally. "Nor shall I be out of close arrest by that time, either. There's nothing I can do. I can't even see them—-and I've been looking forward to this for months!"

Again Dick Prescott buried his head in his arms at the study table. To have Laura come here at the time when he was in the deepest disgrace that a cadet may face!

Greg came back to find his chum pacing the floor in misery.

"Well, it can't be helped," muttered Holmes philosophically.

"Of course you and Anstey can drag the girls to Cullum."

"Surely," muttered Holmes listlessly, "if the girls would go at all under such circumstances."

"I've made their trip a mockery and a bitter disappointment," groaned Dick.

"No, you haven't ramrod," retorted Greg. "Fate may be to blame, but you can't be held accountable for what you didn't do. Have no fear. I'll see to the ladies tomorrow afternoon. But I'm a pile more interested in knowing what is to be done in your case. The superintendent and the K.C. may see the absurdity of this whole thing against you, and order your arrest ended."

"But that won't clear me, Greg, and you know it. There would still be the suspicion in the corps, and—-O Greg!—-I can't endure that suspicion."

"Pshaw, old ramrod, you won't have to, very long. We'll bust this whole suspicion higher than any kite ever flew. See here, Dodge is responsible for your humiliation, and we'll drag it all out of him, if we have to tie him up by the thumbs!"

A knock at the door, and Anstey entered.

"I really couldn't get here before, old ramrod. But I'd cut you in a minute if I thought it really necessary to come here and tell you that I don't believe any charge of dishonor against you, Prescott, could possibly be true."

"It's mighty pleasant to have every fellow who feels that way come and say so," muttered Dick gratefully, as he thrust out his hand.

Another knock at the door. Cadet Prescott must report at once at the office of the K.C.

Down the stairs trudged Dick, across the area, and into the office of the commandant of cadets.

"I want to know, Mr. Prescott," declared that officer, "whether you can throw any added light in regard to the occurrence in Captain Abbott's section room this morning."

Dick had to deliberate, swiftly, as to whether he should say anything about having loaned Mr. Dodge his handkerchief briefly.

"I reckon I must speak of it," decided the unhappy cadet. "I mean to have Dodge summoned, if I'm tried, so I may as well speak of it now."

That, and other things, Dick stated. The K.C. listened gravely. It was plain from the officer's manner that he believed Prescott was going to have difficulty in establishing his innocence.

"That is all, Mr. Prescott," said the K.C. finally. Dick saluted and returned to his room.

In the few minutes that had elapsed, Anstey had done much. In the room were a dozen yearlings who were known to be among Dick's best friends. All shock his hand, assuring him that nothing could shake their faith in him. It was comforting, but that was all.

"You see, old ramrod," muttered Greg, when the callers had left, "there are enough who believe in you. Now, you've got to justify that faith by hammering this charge into nothingness. Someone has committed a crime—-a moral crime anyway. In my own mind Dodge is the criminal but I'm not yet prepared to prove it."

In the meantime Cadet Albert Dodge was over in the K.C.'s office, undergoing a rigid questioning. Dodge freely admitted the episode of handkerchief borrowing but denied any further knowledge.

When Bert returned to barracks he was most bitter against Dick. To all who would listen to him Dodge freely stated his opinion of a man who would seek to shield his own wrong-doing by throwing suspicion on another.

"There were plenty who saw me borrow the handkerchief," contended
Dodge stormily. "Whoever saw me take it also saw me return it.
I'll defy any man to state, under oath, that I returned more
than the handkerchief."

"How did the smear happen to be on your hand?" asked Dunstan, who, besides belonging to the same mathematics section with Prescott was also a warm personal friend.

Bert hesitated, looked uneasy, then replied:

"How about the smear? Why—-I don't know It may have come from a match."

"Yes, what about that smear? How did it come there?" cried Greg, when Dunstan repeated Dodge's words.

Through Greg's mind, for hours after that, the question insistently intruded itself:

"How about that smear?"

Yet the question seemed to lead to nothing.

The next morning, Saturday, it was known, throughout cadet barracks, that a general court-martial order for Prescott would be published that afternoon.

On the one o'clock train from New York came Mrs. Bentley, Laura and Belle. They entered the bus at the station, and were driven up, across the plain, to the hotel.

After dinner, the girls waited in pleasant expectancy for Dick and Greg to send up their cards.

Greg's card came up, alone.

Anstey was back in quarters with Dick.

CHAPTER XIV FRIENDS WHO STAND BY

"Well?" cried Dick, darting up, his eyes shining wildly when Greg finally threw open the door.

"Oh, bosh!" cried Greg jubilantly. "Do you think those girls are going to believe anything against you?"

"What did they say?" demanded Dick eagerly.

"Well, of course they were dazed," continued Greg. "In fact,
Mrs. Bentley was the first to speak. What she said was one word,
'Preposterous!'"

"There's a woman aftah my own heart, suh," murmured Anstey.

"Belle got her voice next," continued Greg. "What she said was:
"'You're wrong, Mrs. Bentley. It isn't even preposterous.'"

"Miss Meade surely delighted me, the first time I ever saw her," murmured Anstey.

"Laura looked down to hide a few tears," continued Greg. "But she brushed them away and looked up smiling. 'I'm sorry, sorry, sorry for Dick's temporary annoyance,' was what Laura said. 'But of course I know such deceit would be impossible in him, so I shall stay here until I know that the Military Academy authorities and the whole world realize how absurd such a suspicion must be.'"

"She's going to remain here?" faltered Dick.

"All three of 'em are. They couldn't be driven off the reservation by a file of infantry, just now. But both of the girls insisted on sending you a note. Which will you have first?"

"Don't trifle with me, Greg," begged Prescott.

Anstey rose to go.

"Don't take yourself off, Anstey old fellow. Just pardon me while
I read my notes."

Dick read Laura's note through, thrilling with the absolute faith that it breathed:

"Dear Dick: Don't be uneasy about us, and don't worry about yourself, either. I couldn't express what I think about the charges, without having a man's license of speech! But you know all that I would write you. Just keep up the good old Gridley grit and smile for a few days. We are going to be here to attend that court-martial, and to give you courage from the gallery—-but I don't believe you need a bit. Faithfully, Laura."

Belle's note was much shorter. It ran:

"Dear Dick: What stupid ideas they have of comedy here at West
Point!"

And, as Belle knew that she wasn't and couldn't be Dick's sweetheart, she had not hesitated to sign herself, "Lovingly, Belle."

Dick passed each note in turn to Anstey.

"Your town suhtinly raises real girls!" was the southerner's quiet comment.

Dick felt like a new being. He was pacing the floor now, but in no unpleasant agitation.

"Did you impress the girls with the knowledge that I begged them to go to the hop tonight?" asked Prescott, stopping short and eyeing Greg.

"Did you think I'd forget half of my errand, old ramrod?" demanded Holmes indignantly "I delivered your full request, backed by all that I could add. At first Mrs. Bentley and Laura were shocked at the very idea. But Belle broke in with: 'If we didn't go, it would look as if we were in mourning for some one. We're not. We're just simply sorry that a poor idea of a farce keeps dear old Dick from being with us tonight. If we don't go, Dick Prescott will be more unhappy about it than anyone else in the wide world.'"

"Miss Meade suhtinly doesn't need spectacles," murmured Anstey.
"She can see straight!"

"So," continued Greg, "I'm going to drag Laura tonight, and Anstey is going to do the same for Belle."

"And we'll suhtinly see to it that they have, outside of ourselves, of course, the handsomest men in the corps to dance with!" exclaimed Anstey. "If any fine and handsome fellow even tries to get out of it, I'll call him out and fight him stiff, suh!"

"I'm glad you have persuaded the girls to go," nodded Dick cheerily. "That will give me a happier evening than anything else could do just now."

"What will you do this evening, Dick?" asked Greg.

"I? Oh, I'll be busy—-and contented at the same time. Tell that to Laura and Belle, please."

Yet it was with a sense of weariness that Dick turned out for supper formation. There were more pleasant greetings as he moved to his place in ranks, and that made him feel better for the moment. At his table at cadet mess he was amiably and cheerily included in all the merry conversation that flew around.

Then back to quarters Dick went, and soon saw Greg and Anstey, looking their spooniest in their full-dress uniforms, depart on the mission of dragging.

Prescott hardly sighed as he moved over to the study table. He read over a score of times the notes the girls had sent him.

Then came an orderly, who handed in a telegram. Dick opened this with nervous fingers. His eyes lit up when he found that it came from Annapolis. The message read:

"Dear old Dick! You're the straightest fellow on earth! We know. Don't let anybody get your goat!"

"Darrin And Dalzell, Third Class, U.S. Naval Academy."

"Dear old Gridley chums!" murmured the cadet, the moisture coming to his eyes. "Yes, they should know me, if anyone does. Those who know me best are all flocking to offer comfort. Then—-hang it!—-I don't need any. When a fellow's friends all believe in him, what more is there to ask? But I wonder how the news reached Annapolis? I know—-Belle has telegraphed Dave. She knew he'd stand by me."

It was a very cheery Prescott to whom Anstey and Holmes returned. Anstey could remain but an instant, but that instant was enough to cheer the Virginian, the change in Prescott was so great.

In the few moments left before taps sounded, Greg told his chum all he could of the hop, and of the resolute conduct of Laura and Belle in refusing absolutely to be downcast.

"Have you sent any word home?" asked Greg.

"To my father and mother? Not a word! Nor shall I, until this nightmare is all over," breathed Dick fervently.

"Laura wanted to know," Holmes explained. "Of course Mrs. Bentley had to send some word to her husband, to account for their longer absence, but she cautioned Dr. Bentley not to let a word escape."

To himself, as he reached up to extinguish the light, Greg muttered:

"I believe that unhanged scoundrel, Dodge, will see to it that word reaches Gridley!"

In this conjecture Holmes must have been correct, for, the next forenoon, there came a telegram, full of agony, from Prescott's mother, imploring further particulars at once. Mrs. Prescott's dispatch mentioned a "rumor."

"That's Dodge's dirty work," growled Holmes. "So that fastens the guilt of this whole thing upon him—-the dirty dog!"

Yet how to fasten any guilt upon Dodge? Or how force from him any admission that would aid to free Cadet Prescott from the awful charge