Dick Prescotts First Year at West Point | Page 5

the other room. With him was an older medical officer, Captain Goodwin.
"Drop your blanket on that chair," nodded Lieutenant Herman. "Now, step over to the scales."
Dick's weight, stripped, was taken, as well as his height. These points Lieutenant Herman jotted down as Captain Goodwin called them off.
"Now, let me listen to your heart," directed the senior medical officer, picking up a stethoscope from his desk. The heart beat and sounds were examined from several points.
"Come here, Mr. Prescott," directed Captain Goodwin, opening another door and revealing a flight of stairs. "Run up these stairs and back, as fast as you can."
As Dick halted, after that feat, his heart action was again examined, this time by both surgeons. After that his lungs were examined. Then he was directed to lie on a table, while the areas over his other organs were thumped and listened to. Then the candidate was examined for deformities. He was ordered to march around the room, to run, to jump over a low stool, and perform other antics.
Then the two surgeons conferred briefly at the desk.
"You'll do, Mr. Prescott," announced Captain Goodwin.
"Thank you, sir, stammered Dick, the flush of happiness coming to his cheeks.
"You've taken part in school athletics, haven't you?" asked Lieutenant Herman.
"Yes, sir; captain of our football team last fall."
"You look it," nodded Lieutenant Herman pleasantly. "Take your blanket, Mr. Prescott. Orderly, call the next man."
As Dick strode back where he had left the others he heard the orderly call:
"Mr. Holmes."
"Go to it, old man. There's nothing to be afraid of," whispered Dick Prescott.
"They got through with you in mighty quick time," smiled one of the other candidates.
"Did they?" laughed Prescott. "It seemed to me as though the surgeons started yesterday and finished to-morrow."
Mr. Geroldstone had finished dressing and sat by, a sulky look on his face. He wanted to go back to cadet store, get his money and leave West Point instantly. But the orderly had told him he would have to. wait until a report had been made out to the adjutant.
To Dick the minutes dragged until Greg Holmes appeared again. Truth to tell, Greg was much afraid that he had a slight trouble with his heart, and that this difficulty would hinder his passing. Dick, who was aware of his chum's dread, was anxious for Holmes. As soon as he had finished dressing he found himself pacing the floor.
It was quite a while ere Greg came out, but his quiet, happy smile told the story.
"Did they ask you questions about your heart?" asked Prescott in an undertone.
"Yes," admitted Greg, while he dropped his blanket and began hastily pulling on his clothes.
"You told the truth, didn't you ?"
"Of course, I did," flushed Greg. "If I hadn't told the truth I wouldn't be fit to be an Army officer. But Captain Goodwin laughed at me."
"Then he didn't find anything much wrong with your heart!"
"He said he guessed I had had some discomfort at times, but that, if I would eat more slowly, and chew my food better, my stomach would get a rest and stop shoving my heart."
"Oh! Is that all that has been ailing you?" smiled Dick.
"According to Captain Goodwin it's enough. He says my trouble started only recently, and that I can be over the last sign of it in three days if I'll take up with decent eating habits. But he has known boys he has had to reject because they had been at bad eating tricks for a longer time. You can bet I'm going to follow the surgeon's advice after this."
Four out of this squad of candidates were rejected by the examining surgeons. Geroldstone remained sulky, with an air of bravado; the other three young men were so downcast that all their companions were heartily sorry for them. The hospital orderly marched back to the adjutant's office those who had been rejected, while another orderly appeared and led those who had passed the surgeons to the cadet barracks.
"This begins to look like the real thing," murmured Dick as they neared the barracks.
Now this group were taken to the room of the cadet officer of the day, Lieutenant Edwards. Beside the cadet lieutenant's desk stood Cadet Corporal Brayton.
To the cadet officer of the day each of the candidates gave his name and home address, which were entered in a book.
"Brayton, take Prescott and Holmes to room number -, will you?" asked Mr. Edwards with-out looking up.
Dick and Greg followed their conductor out-side and into another subdivision of barracks. Mr. Brayton kept on until he had reached the top flight, where he threw open a door.
"Step in here, Mr. Prescott and Mr. Holmes," ordered the cadet corporal stiffly. To the two new arrivals the corporal spoke as though he had conceived an intense dislike for these two boys. Later, Dick and