Dick Prescott's Third Year at West Point Part 31

"Haynes," he went on, "it may seem odd of me to ask a favor from you."

"Very odd, indeed!" sneered the turnback.

"It is a very slight favor," continued Prescott, "and it is this: Don't at any time venture to address me, except upon official business."

With that Prescott stepped resolutely around the cadet in his path, and went forward at a stiff stride.

Haynes remained for some moments where he was, gazing after d.i.c.k with a curious, leering look.

"Prescott is a coward---that's what he is!" muttered the turnback.

"If he weren't, I said enough to him just now to cause him to leap at my throat. Humph! Anyone can beat a coward, and without credit. Prescott, your days at the Military Academy are numbered!

You, an Army officer? Humph!"

Though it would be hard to understand why, Haynes felt much better after that brief interview. Perhaps it was because, all along, he had feared Cadet Prescott. Now the turnback no longer feared his enemy in the corps.

How would the feud end? How could it end?

CHAPTER XIX

THE TRAITOR OF THE RIDING HALL

If d.i.c.k gave no further outward attention to Haynes, he was nevertheless bothered about the fellow.

"Haynes isn't fit to go through and become an officer; to be set up over other men," Prescott told himself often.

This slighting opinion was not on account of the personal dislike that Prescott felt for the turnback. There were other cadets at West Point whom d.i.c.k did not exactly like, yet he respected the others, for they themselves respected the traditions of honor and justice that are a part of West Point.

With Haynes the trouble was that he was certain, sooner or later, to prove a discredit to the best traditions of the Army. Such a fellow was likely to prove a bully over enlisted men. Now, the enlisted men of the Regular Army do not resent having a strict officer set above them, but the officer must be a man whom they can respect. Such an officer, who commands the respect and admiration of the enlisted men under him, can lead them into the most dangerous places. They will follow as a matter of course; but an unworthy officer, one whom the enlisted men know to be unfit to command them, will demoralize a company, a troop, a battery or a regiment if he be given power enough.

Every cadet and every officer of the Army is concerned with the honor of that Army. If he knows that an unworthy man is obtaining command, it worries the cadet or officer of honor.

Had he been able to offer legal, convincing proof of Haynes's dastardly conduct in pushing him off the train on the return from the Army-Navy game, Prescott would have submitted that proof to the authorities, or else to the members of the second cla.s.s in cla.s.s meeting.

"But Haynes would only lie out of it, of course," d.i.c.k concluded.

"As a cadet, his word would have to be accepted as being as good as mine. So nothing would come of the charges."

A cla.s.s meeting, unlike a court-martial, might not stand out for legal evidence, if the moral presumption of guilt were strong enough; but Cadet Prescott would not dream of invoking cla.s.s action unless he had the most convincing proof to offer.

Cla.s.s action, when it is invoked at West Point, is often more effective than even the work of a court-martial. If the cla.s.s calls upon a member to resign and return to civil life, he might as well do so without delay. If he does not, he will be "sent to Coventry" by every other cadet in the corps. If he has the nerve to disregard this and graduate, he will go forth into the Army only to meet a like fate at the hands of every officer in the service. He will always be "cut" as long as he attempts to wear the uniform.

"Its a shame to let this fellow Haynes stay in the service," d.i.c.k muttered. "And yet my hands are tied. With my lack of evidence I can't drag him before either a legal or an informal court.

The only thing I can do is to let matters go on, trusting to the fact that, sooner or later, Haynes will overstep the bounds less cautiously, and that he'll find himself driven out of the uniform."

On going to his quarters for a study period one afternoon further along in April, Haynes found himself unable to concentrate his mind on the lesson before him. He was alone, his roommate being absent with a section at recitation.

As he sat thus idle at the study table, Haynes toyed with a little black pin. How the pin had come into his possession he did not even recall. It was a pin of ordinary size, one of the kind much used by milliners.

Having nothing else to do, Haynes idly thrust the head of the pin repeatedly in under the sole at the toe of his right boot.

Somewhat to his surprise the head went well in, then stopped at last, fitting snugly and stiffly in place.

"If I had a fellow sitting in front of me, what a startling jab I could give him with the toe of my boot," grinned the turnback.

Then, suddenly, there came a very queer look into his face.

"Why, I reckon I could jab something else with a pin, beside the flesh of another cadet," he muttered.

Then, trembling slightly, the turnback bent down and carefully extracted the pin. His next act was to fasten it very securely on the inside of the front of his fatigue blouse, where the black uniform braid prevented its being seen.

Of late the second cla.s.s cavalry drills had been in the open.

That day, however, it was raining heavily, and the order had been pa.s.sed for the squads to report at the riding hall.

Soon after Haynes's roommate had returned from recitation the signal sounded for the squad that was to report at the riding hall.

Haynes rose, drawing on his uniform raincoat.

"What's the matter with you, Haynesy?" inquired his roommate.

"Why do you ask, Pierson?"

"There was a very queer look on your face," replied Cadet Pierson.

I couldn't tell whether it were a diabolical look or merely a sardonic grin."

"I was just thinking of a story I heard told years ago," lied Haynes glibly.

"I don't believe I'd care to hear that story, then," returned Pierson dryly.

"I'm not going to tell it to you. 'Bye, old man. I'm off for riding drill."

d.i.c.k and Greg were in the same squad. Those who were going for drill at this hour fell in at the command, of their squad marcher, and strode away to the riding hall.

Once inside, the cadets disposed of their uniform raincoats. The squad marcher reported to Captain Alb.u.t.t, who was their instructor for the afternoon.

"To horse!" came the crisp order.

Each cadet stepped to his mount, untying the animal and standing by.

Haynes's heart gave a quick jump when he saw that to d.i.c.k's lot had fallen Satan, a fiery black, the worst tempered and most treacherous horse in the lot.

"My chance is coming sooner than I had thought for", quivered the turnback.

Dropping his handkerchief, Haynes bent over and quickly slipped the black pin in at the toe of his right boot.

"When we get into column of fours I have Prescott on my right, muttered the turnback. He had straightened up again, in almost no time, tucking the handkerchief again inside his blouse. His act had attracted no attention.

"Prepare to mount!" rang Captain Alb.u.t.t's voice.