id="id00083">"That's a whole platoon of reasons boiled down into one file-closer," grinned Greg. "Yes; I am going to visit Miss Sharp this afternoon."

"Have you heard that Bert Dodge is in town at present?"

"No!" muttered Greg. Then added tersely: "The b.j.(fresh) rascal! I wonder what folks here think of a sneak who was forced to resign by a cadet committee on honor?"

"Folks here don't know that Dodge was forced out of the Academy."

"Thank you for telling me," nodded Greg. "Then I shall know how to keep my mouth shut. Laura will be a Miss Sharp's this afternoon, of course?"

"Naturally. And Belle Meade, also."

"Then," proposed Greg, "suppose we 'phone the girls and ask if we may call this afternoon and escort them to Miss Sharp's. We must do something to show that we appreciate their loyalty in remaining at West Point last winter until your name was cleared of disgrace."

"Yes; we'll 'phone them," nodded Dick.

On both days, so far, that he had been home, Dick had called at Dr. Bentley's to see Laura. In fact, that was the only calling he had done, though he had met scores of friends on the street.

Both young ladies were pleased to accept the proffered escort.

"By the way," proposed Greg, "what are you going to do this morning?"

"Going out for a walk, for one thing," replied Dick. "I've talked to mother until she must have ear-ache on both sides, and feel tired of having me home."

"What do you saw if we trot around and extract handshakes from some of the follows we used to pack schoolbooks with?" hinted Holmes. "For instance, Ennerton is down at the bank, in a new job. Foss is advertising manager in Curlham & Peck's department store. I know he'll be glad to see us if we don't take up too much of his employer's time. Then Ted Sanders——-"

And so Greg continued to enumerate a lot of the old Gridley High School boys of whose present doings he had gotten track. Dick and Greg left the bookstore and started on the rounds to hunt up the best remembered of their old schoolmates.

And a pleasant morning they had of it. Thought the sun poured down its heat over the little city, these two cadets, who had drilled for two summers on the blistering plain and the dusty roads at West Point, did not notice the warmth of the day.

In the afternoon, in good season, Dick called for Laura, waiting there until Belle Meade arrived under the escort of Greg.

"These West Pointers make the most correct and attentive escorts imaginable," laughed Belle. "But there's just one disadvantage connected with them."

"I hadn't noticed it," smiled Laura.

"Why, when Greg walks beside me, and holds my parasol, I feel as though I were in the street with my parasol tied to the Methodist steeple. Where's your rice powder, Laura? I'm sure the sun has made a sight of my nose and neck."

Laughing merrily, the young people set off for Miss Sharp's. The home was a comfortable one, with attractive grounds, for the elder Sharp was a well-to-do merchant. Some three score of young people were present, and of these nearly two thirds had belonged to the High School student body in the old High School days of Dick and Greg. Naturally, the young ladies outnumbered the young men by more than four to one.

"Oh, I am delighted that you two have come," cried Susie, moving forward to greet her cadet visitors. This was wholly true, for Miss Sharp had planned the affair solely in order to have the distinction of entertaining the young West Pointers. Had Dick and Greg remained away, Susie, without doubt, would have been both disappointed and humiliated.

Through the connecting drawing rooms Dick and Greg moved with a grace and lack of consciousness greatly in contrast with their semi-awkwardness in their earlier High School days. Many pleasant acquaintances were renewed here.

Suddenly, Susie, catching a glimpse of the front walk, hastened out into the hallway. Then she came in, smiling eagerly, a well-dressed, pompous-looking young man at her side.

"Mr. Prescott! Mr. Holmes!" called Susie. "Here is an old comrade whom you both may be surprised to meet!"

Dick and Greg turned, and indeed, they were astonished. For the latest arrival was Bert Dodge!

"Howdy, fellows!" called Dodge carelessly, though inwardly he was quaking with alarm. How would these two decent cadets treat the fellow who had been kicked out of West Point for dishonorable acts?

Prescott bowed, but did not speak. Greg's line of conduct was identical with his chum's.

Bert turned white, at first, with mortification. Then a red flush set in at his neck, extending to his face and temples. But Dodge possessed "brass," if not honor, so he decided to face it out.

Turning to a young woman standing nearby, Bert spoke to her, and they laughed and chatted. From her, Bert passed through the room nodding here, chatting there.

Dick and Greg, after the first look of amazement, followed by their cold bows, had turned to the old friends with whom they had been chatting.

In the course of a few minutes Bert Dodge had got along close to the two cadets.

"How are you, Prescott?" called Bert. "How is good old West Point?
And you, Holmes—-how are you?"

Dodge held out his hand with all the effrontery of which he was capable.

Turning, Dick gave the sneak only a cold, steady look.

CHAPTER II

BRASS MEETS GOLD

Neither Dick nor Greg took the trouble to answer the greeting.
Dodge's outstretched hand both cadets affected not to see.

As it happened, few of the others present noted this brief little scene.

A natural break in the crowd left Dick alone for the moment, with Holmes standing not far away and looking coldly in the direction of the ex-cadet, yet not appearing to see him at all.

"Well, what's the matter?" hissed Dodge in an undertone that the other guests did not hear. "Are you going to make a fool of yourself, Prescott?"

"You'd better execute a right-about face and make double-time away from here," replied Dick in a freezing undertone. "Otherwise I don't believe the guests will fail to observe how West Pointers regard a convicted sneak."

"Are you going to open your mouth and do a lot of talking?" whispered Dodge menacingly. "Or are you going to keep your tongue behind your teeth?"

"I can't undertake to lower myself by making any promises to a sneak," retorted Dick, still in an undertone. "But I warn you that any further conversation I have with you will be carried on in ordinary conversational tones. And if you undertake to remain, we shall be obliged to inform our hostess that we regret our inability to stay any longer."

Conscious that others were probably looking their way, Bert Dodge tried to make his face as expressionless as possible.

"See here, Prescott——-" the fellow began coaxingly.

But Dick turned and walked away. Greg, very stiff and straight, moved at his friend's side.

Afraid of what others might notice, Dodge passed on. He presently reached a door leading into the hallway. Here he remained briefly. Then, when he believed himself to be unobserved, he slipped out, took his hat and got away.

A few minutes later, as Dick and Greg passed the door of a little