The Project Gutenberg EBook of Dick Prescott's Third Year at West Point by H. Irving Hancock

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Title: Dick Prescott's Third Year at West Point Standing Firm for Flag and Honor

Author: H. Irving Hancock

Release Date: July 3, 2004 [EBook #12806]

Language: English

*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THIRD YEAR AT WEST POINT ***

Produced by Jim Ludwig

DICK PRESCOTT'S THIRD YEAR AT WEST POINT
or
Standing Firm for Flag and Honor

By H. Irving Hancock

CONTENTS

CHAPTERS
    I. On Furlough in the Old Home Town
   II. Brass Meets Gold
  III. Dick & Co. Again
   IV. What About Mr. Cameron?
    V. Along a "Dangerous" Road
   VI. The Surprise the Lawyer Had in Store
  VII. Prescott Lays a Powder Trail
 VIII. A Father's Just Wrath Strikes
   IX. Back to the Good, Gray Life
    X. The Scheme of the Turnback
   XI. Brayton Makes a Big Appeal
  XII. In the Battle Against Lehigh
 XIII. When the Cheers Broke Loose
  XIV. For Auld Lang Syne
   XV. Heroes and a Sneak
  XVI. Roll-Call Gives the Alarm
 XVII. Mr. Cadet Slowpoke
XVIII. The Enemies Have an Understanding
  XIX. The Traitor of the Riding Hall
   XX. In Cadet Hospital
  XXI. The Man Moving in a Dark Room
 XXII. The Row in the Riding Detachment
XXIII. The Degree of "Coventry"
 XXIV. Conclusion

CHAPTER I

ON FURLOUGH IN THE OLD HOME TOWN

"My son, Richard. He is home on his furlough from the Military
Academy at West Point."

Words would fail in describing motherly pride with which Mrs. Prescott introduced her son to Mrs. Davidson, wife of the new pastor.

"I am very glad to meet you, Mr. Prescott," said Mrs. Davidson, looking up, for up she had to glance in order to see the face of this tall, distinguished-looking cadet.

Dick Prescott's return bow was made with the utmost grace, yet without affectation. His natty straw hat he held in his right hand, close to his breast.

Mrs. Davidson was a sensible and motherly woman, who wished to give this young man the pleasantest greeting, but she was plainly at a loss to know what to say. Like many excellent and ordinarily well-informed American people, she had not the haziest notions of West Point.

"You are learning to be a soldier, of course?" she asked.

"Yes, Mrs. Davidson," replied Dick gravely. Neither in his face nor in his tone was there any hint of the weariness with which he had so often, of late, heard this aimless question repeated.

"And when you are through with your course there," pursued Mrs. Davidson, "do you enlist in the Army? Or may you, if you prefer, become a sailor in our—er—Navy?"

"Oh, I fear, Mrs. Davidson, that you don't understand," smiled Mrs. Prescott proudly. My son is now going through a very rigorous four years' course at the Military Academy. It is a course that is superior, in most respects to a college training, but that it is devoted to turning out commissioned officers for the Army. When Richard graduates, in two years more, he will be commissioned by the President as a second lieutenant in the Army."

"Oh, I understood you to say that you were training to become a soldier, Mr. Prescott," cried Mrs. Davidson in some confusion. "I did not understand that you would become an officer."

"An officer who is not also a good soldier is a most unfortunate and useless fellow under the colors," laughed Dick lightly.

"But it is so much more honorable to be an officer than to be a mere soldier!" cried the pastor's wife.

"We do not think so in the army, Mrs. Davidson," Dick answered more responsibility, to be sure, but we feel that the honor falls alike on men of all grades of position who are privileged to wear their country's uniform."

"But don't the officers look down on the common soldiers?" asked
Mrs. Davidson curiously.

"If an officer does, then surely he has chosen the wrong career in life, madam," the cadet replied seriously. "We are not taught at West Point that an officer should 'look down' upon an enlisted man. There is a gulf of discipline, but none of manhood, between the enlisted man and his officer. And it frequently happens that the officer who is a graduate from West Point is called upon to welcome, as a brother officer, a man who has just been promoted from the ranks."

Mrs. Davidson looked puzzled, as, indeed, she was. But she suddenly remembered something that made her feel more at ease.

"Why, I saw an officer and some soldiers on a train, the other day," she cried. "The officer had at least eight or ten soldiers with him, under his command. I remember what a fine-looking young man he was. He had what looked like two V's on his sleeve, and I remember that they were yellow. What kind of an officer is the man who wears the two yellow V's?"

"A non-commissioned officer, Mrs. Davidson; a corporal of cavalry."

"Was he higher that you'll be when you graduate from West Point?"

"No; a corporal is an enlisted man, a step above the private soldier.
The sergeant is also an enlisted man, and above the corporal.
Above the sergeant comes the second lieutenant, who is the lowest-ranking
commissioned officer."

"Oh, I am sure I never could understand it all," sighed Mrs. Davidson. "Why don't they have just plain soldiers and captains, and put the captains in a different color of uniform? Then ordinary people could comprehend something about the Army. But in describing that young soldier's uniform, I forgot something, Mr. Prescott. That young soldier, or officer, or whatever he was, beside the two yellow V's, had a white stripe near the hem of his cuff."

"Just one white stripe?" queried Dick.

"Just one, I am sure."

"Then that one white stripe would show that the corporal, before entering the cavalry, had served one complete enlistment in the infantry."

"Oh, this is simply incomprehensible!" cried the new pastor's wife in comical dismay. "I am certain that I could never learn to know all these things."

"It is a little confusing at first," smiled Dick's mother with another show of pride. "But I think I am beginning to understand quite a lot of it."

Mrs. Davidson went out of the bookstore conducted by Dick's parents in the little city of Gridley. Dick sighed a bit wearily.

"Why don't Americans take a little more pains to understand things American?" he asked his mother, with a comical smile. "People who would be ashamed not to know something about St. Peter's, at Rome, or the London Tower, are not quite sure what the purpose of the United States Military Academy is."

Yet, though some people annoyed him with their foolish questions, he was heartily glad to be back, for the summer, in the dear old home town. So was his