Dick Prescotts First Year at West Point | Page 3

young man wore his cadet fatigue cap at an exact
angle. The long, caped gray overcoats looked as though they had been
melted to the forms of their wearers.
No wonder Greg Holmes gave that involuntary gasp. He was having his
first view of a small squad of real cadets.
Some of the candidates on the other sidewalk so far forgot themselves
as to halt and all but stare at the natty young marching men opposite.
Then, all in an instant, the section marcher and his section had gone by.
"Don't anyone halt, please," cautioned the soldier orderly. "Keep your
places in the line, young gentlemen, and keep moving right along."
So they reached the cadet hospital. The orderly marched them into a
spacious, almost bare room on the ground floor and announced:
"I will report to the surge on. Young gentlemen, wait until you are
called."
"I wish I could carry myself and step the way that fellow does,"
whispered Dick, his admiring gaze following the retreating orderly.
"Well, that's what we've come here to learn," replied Greg. "That is, if
we get by the doctors-and then the beastly academic grind."
Now, to keep his mind occupied, Dick Prescott fell to observing,
covertly, the other candidates.

These were of all sorts and sizes. They represented all parts of the
United States and every walk in social life. Out of the group were two
or three who, judging by their clothing, might have been sons of
washerwomen. There were other youngsters whose general appearance
and bearing seemed to proclaim that they came from homes of wealth.
But the majority of the young men appeared to have come from the
same walk in life as did Dick and Greg.
Our two young friends were by no means the most smartly nor the most
correctly attired young men there. On their way to New York Prescott
and Holmes had discovered, by taking mental notes of the other male
passengers on the train, that these two Gridley boys had missed
something from the most correct styles then prevailing in the larger
cities.
Dick and Greg were both solidly and substantially attired, yet there was
an indefinable something about them which proclaimed them to be
young men from one of the smaller cities of the United States.
"I can see those medical big-wigs pawing me over now," shivered Greg.
"I suppose, at a place as wonderful and as learned as West Point, the
doctors are all fussy old men, with their gold-rimmed spectacles and
shiny frock coats."
"Wait and see," advised Dick, trying to get a grip on himself to control
his nervousness.
Another door opened, to admit a dandified and very smart-looking
young officer, apparently about twenty-five years of age.
'You're all ready, young gentlemen?" he asked smilingly.
"We're waiting for the doctor," replied Greg, who was close to the door
by which the officer had entered.
"I am one of the surgeons," replied the young officer pleasantly.
"Gee whiz!" remarked one raw-boned youth, in what was meant to be a

confidential whisper, but which rose to a pitch that carried it around the
room. "Say, he doesn't look much like our old saw-bones doe down
home way!"
The surgeon was followed by a smart-looking soldier of the hospital
corps, who started to close the shades of the room.
"You have all been to the treasurer's office and deposited your funds?"
asked the young surgeon, turning again. This time his question
appeared to be addressed to Dick more particularly than to anyone else.
"Why, no, sir," Prescott replied. "I have all my money in my pocket
yet."
"Orderly!" spoke the surgeon to his own man of the hospital corps, who
wheeled, brought his heels together and stood at attention. "Bring in
that orderly who conducted the young gentle-men here."
"Yes, sir," replied the hospital orderly, wheeling about and vanishing
from the room. He was back again in a moment with the soldier who
had brought in this batch of candidates without interviewing the
treasurer.
"Orderly," spoke the surgeon, "you have overlooked one part of your
instructions. You did not take these candidates to the treasurer 'a
office."
"No, sir."
"Do so now. Then conduct the candidates back here."
"Very good, sir."
Signing to the candidates to rise and follow him outside, the orderly
himself led the way.
"Say, that was neatly done. No calling the man down; no bluster,"
whispered Greg as the candidates again walked along the sidewalk.

"It's the Army way, I take it," murmured Dick.
This time the orderly marched his awkward squad straight to the cadet
store and into the treasurer's office.
"O-o-o-h !" groaned Greg in an undertone.
"What's the matter?" demanded Dick in a cautious whisper.
"This delay and killing suspense before we get before the doctors. I'll
bet my