Dick Prescotts Third Year at West Point | Page 3

and I haven't thought to ask."
"Bert Dodge is here in Gridley at present. The Dodge family are
occupying their old home here for a part of the summer."
"Do people here understand that Dodge had to resign from West Point
in order to escape a court-martial that would have bounced him out of
the Military Academy?" Dick inquired.
"No; very few know it. I have mentioned Dodge's disgrace to only one
person beside your father."
"You told Laura Bentley?"
"Yes, Dick. She had a right to know. Laura has always been your loyal
friend. When she reached West Point, last winter, expecting to go to a
cadet hop with you, she remained at West Point until you had been

tried by court-martial and acquitted on that unjust charge. Laura had a
right to know the whole story."
"She surely had," nodded Dick.
"As to Gridley people in general," went on Mrs. Prescott, "I have not
felt it necessary to say anything, and folks generally believe that Bert
Dodge resigned from the corps of cadets simply because he did not find
Army life to his liking."
"He wouldn't have found it to his liking had he chosen not to resign,"
smiled Prescott darkly.
"Are you going to say anything about Dodge while you are home?"
inquired his mother, glancing up quickly.
"Not a word, if I can avoid it," replied Dick. "I hate tale-bearers."
At this moment the postman came in, blowing his whistle and rapidly
sorting out a pile of letters, which he dropped on the counter.
"There are probably a lot here for me, mother," smiled Dick. "Shall I
separate then from the business mail?"
"If you will, my boy."
Some dozen of the envelopes proved to be addressed to young Prescott.
Of these two were letters frown West Point classmates. Three were
from old friends in Gridley, sending him congratulations and
expressing the hope of meeting him during his furlough. The remainder
of the letters were mainly invitations of a social nature.
"Odd!" grinned the young soldier. When I was merely a High School
boy I could go a whole month without receiving anything resembling a
social invitation. Now I am receiving them at the rate of a score a day."
"Well, a West Point cadet is some one socially, is he not?" smiled Mrs.
Prescott.

"I suppose so," nodded Dick. "The truth is, a cadet has so much social
attention paid to him that it is a wonder more of the fellows are not
spoiled."
"Are you going to accept any social invitations while you are home?"
asked his mother.
"That depends," Dick answered. "If invitations come from people who
were glad to see me when I was a High School boy here, then I shall try
to accept. But I don't care much about meeting who didn't care about
meeting me two years ago. Here is a note from Miss Clara Deane,
mother. She trusts that Greg and I can make it convenient to call at her
home next Saturday afternoon, and meet some of her friends. When I
attended Gridley Miss Deane used to look down on me because I was a
poor man's son. I believe her set referred to me as a 'mucker.' At least,
the fellows of her set did. So I shall send Miss Deane a brief note of
regret."
Dick continued to examine his mail while carrying on a running fire of
talk with his proud and happy mother.
"Oh, here is a very nice note from Susie Sharp," he murmured, opening
another epistle. "She is having quite a few friends at the house this
afternoon, and she begs that Greg and I will be present. Miss Sharp was
a very nice girl in the old days, although she and I never happened to be
very particular friends. Now, I want to have all the time I can for my
real friends of the old days."
"Miss Sharp would be very proud to entertain two men from West
Point," suggested his mother.
"That's just the reason," Dick answered. "Miss Sharp invites us not
because she was ever much a friend of ours, but simply because she is
anxious to entertain two cadets. She probably reasons that it may give
distinction to her afternoon tea, or whatever the affair is."
"Then you are not going?" asked Mrs. Prescott.

"I hardly think so. Not unless Greg wishes it."
The next envelope that Dick picked up was addressed in Laura
Bentley's handwriting. Dick read for a moment, then announced:
"I have changed my mind. I shall go to call on Miss Sharp. Laura urges
me to, saying that Miss Sharp has been very kind to her in the last year.
If Laura wishes it, I'll go to call on any one."
At this moment Greg