Dick Prescottss Fourth Year at West Point | Page 5

the corps for me to
arbitrate, by a fight, the question of whether I did right to report you."
"You refuse a fight," warned Jordan, with a malicious grin, "and I'll
denounce you all through the class!"
"Denounce me, then, if you wish," retorted Dick in cool contempt, "and
you'll bring trouble down on your own head instead. No class requires,
or permits, a member to fight in defence of his official conduct."
"Prescott is turning coward, then, is he?"

"You or any other man who presumes to say it knows well enough that
he is thereby lying," came quickly from between Prescott's teeth.
"Why, hang you, you-----"
"You'd better hush for a moment," warned Prescott. "Here comes the
corps adjutant, and I think he is looking for you."
"Yes! With a message of discipline from the O.C. just because I was
reported by a toy martinet like you!" retorted Cadet Jordan.
Cadet Filson, corps adjutant, wearing his white gloves, red sash and
sword, came up with brisk military stride. He halted before Jordan,
while Prescott moved away.
"Mr. Jordan, by order of the commandant of cadets, you will confine
yourself to the company street, leaving it only under proper orders.
This, for being reported this morning during the tour of engineer
instruction. Any further punishment that is to be meted out to you will
be published in orders at dress parade this afternoon.
"Very good, sir," replied Cadet Jordan, choking with rage.
Wheeling about, Adjutant Filson strode away again.
The moment he was gone, Jordan, his brow black with fury, stepped
over to Prescott.
"So!" he hissed. "The thunderbolt of punishment has fallen, Mr.
Prescott. As for you-----"
"Mr. Jordan," broke in Dick coolly, "you are ordered to confine
yourself to the company street. At this moment you are outside that
limit. You will return immediately to the company street!"
Jordan glared, but he had discretion enough left to obey, for Prescott
was speaking now as cadet commander of A company, to which
company Mr. Jordan belonged.

"Oh, I'll pay you back for this!" raged the disciplined cadet, trembling
as he stepped forward.
By this time, many other cadets were out in the company street. Soon
after the loud, snappy tones of the bugle summoned the two battalions
to dinner formation.
A little while before Cadet Adjutant Filson had approached Jordan, the
commandant of cadets, sitting in his tent over by post number one, had
sent for the Engineer instructor of the forenoon.
"Mr. Armstrong," asked the commandant, "how much is there in this
report against Mr. Jordan this morning? Does Mr. Jordan deserve
severe discipline?"
"In my opinion he does, sir," replied Lieutenant Armstrong. "I had the
whole happening under observation, though I pretended not to see it."
"Why did you make such pretence, Mr. Armstrong?"
"Because I was watching to see how a man like Mr. Prescott would
conduct himself when in command."
Lieutenant Armstrong then related all of the particulars that he had seen
of Jordan's conduct.
"Then I am very glad that Mr. Prescott reported Mr. Jordan," replied
the commandant of cadets. "Mr. Jordan is a first classman and should
be above any such conduct. We will confine Mr. Jordan to his company
street for one week; and on Wednesday and Saturday afternoons during
the continuance of the encampment, he shall walk punishment tours."
Then the commandant of cadets had passed the word for Cadet
Adjutant Filson, to whom he had entrusted the order that the reader has
already seen delivered.
But Jordan, unable to realize that he had proved himself unfit as a
soldier found his hatred of Dick Prescott growing with every step of the

march that carried the cadet corps to dinner at the cadet mess hall.
"Prescott may feel mighty big and proud now!" growled the disgruntled
one. "But will he---when I get through with him?"

CHAPTER II
JORDAN REACHES OUT FOR REVENGE
"Hello, there, Stubbs!" called Jordan from the doorway of his tent.
"Oh, that you, Jordan?" called Stubbs.
"Yes; come in, won't you?"
Cadet Stubbs, of the first class, looked slightly surprised, for he had
never been an intimate of this particular cadet.
"What's the matter?" asked Stubbs, pushing aside the tent flap and
stepping into the tent.
Then, remembering something he had heard, Stubbs continued quickly:
"You're in a little trouble of some kind, aren't you, old man?"
"Oh, I'm in con." growled Mr. Jordan.
"Con." is the brief designation for "confinement."
"Some report this morning, eh?"
"Yes; that dog Prescott sprung a roorback on me. Sit down, won't you?"
"No, thank you," replied Cadet Stubbs more coolly. "Jordan, `dog' is a
pretty extreme word to apply to a brother cadet."
"Oh, are you one of that fellow's admirers?" demanded the man in con.

"I've always been an admirer of manliness,"