Dick Prescotts Third Year at West Point | Page 5

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 reception room, Susie Sharp called them in quietly. They found her there alone.
"Oh, Mr. Prescott! Mr. Holmes! Have I made any mistake, I thought it would be a pleasant surprise to you both if I had Mr. Dodge here to meet you, as you all three were classmates at West Point. But I should have remembered that in the old High School days you two and Mr. Dodge were not the best of friends."
There was an agitated catch in Susie's voice. Their young hostess was worried by the thought that she had invited jarring elements to meet.
"Why, to be candid, I don't believe Dodge ever admired either Greg or myself very much, replied Cadet Prescott evenly.
"But did I make a fearful mistake?" pleaded Susie.
"One cannot make a mistake who aims at the pleasure of others," Dick answered smilingly.
Somewhat reassured, Susie asked her cadet guests to return with her to the drawing rooms. There they joined a little group, and were chatting when a girl's voice reached them from a few feet away. The girl who was speaking did not realize that her tones carried as far as the ears of Dick and Greg as she explained to two other young women:
"Mr. Dodge said he resigned from the Military Academy because he could not stand the crowd there."
"I guess that's true," muttered Dick inwardly. "The crowd couldn't stand Dodge, either."
But Sam Foss made the conversation general by calling:
"How about that, Dick! I always thought West Point was a very select place. Bessie Frost says Dodge left West Point because he thought the fellows there rather below his grade socially."
"Perhaps they are," nodded Dick gravely, but in even tones. "I have heard it stated that about sixty per cent. of the cadets are the sons of wage-earners. Indeed, one of the cadets whom I most respect has not attempted to conceal the fact that, until he graduates and begins to draw officer's pay, his mother will have to continue to support herself at the washtub. That young man is now in the first class, and I can tell you that we are all mighty anxious to see that man graduate and find himself where he can look after a noble mother who has the misfortune to be unusually poor in