“Why, you haven’t seen Dave since you youngsters all left home, have you, Dick?” asked Mr. Darrin.

“No, sir.  Greg and I hoped to, this last summer, when the Army baseball nine went down to Annapolis and defeated the Navy nine,” Dick replied.  “But both Greg and I found ourselves so hard pressed in our academic work that we didn’t dare go, but remained behind and boned hard at our studies.”

“You don’t forget the fact that the Army nine did defeat the Navy nine, do you?” laughed Dan’s father.

“No, sir; of course not,” smiled Dick.  “The Army and Navy teams exist mainly for the purpose of beating each other.  I am glad to say that the Army manages to win more than its share of games.”

“That’s because the West Point boys average a little older than the Annapolis boys,” broke in Mrs. Dalzell pleasantly, though warmly.  Even she, as the mother of a midshipman, felt her share in the rivalry between the nation’s two great service schools.

“You will bring Laura and Belle up to some of the hops this winter, I hope, Mrs. Bentley,” Dick begged.

“Oh, she’s pledged to take us to West Point, and to Annapolis,” broke in Belle Meade, smiling.  “You don’t think we are going to lose the hops at either Academy while we have friends there, do you?”

“I should hope not,” Dick replied earnestly.  Five minutes before train time Leonard Cameron appeared.  He greeted the two cadets with great cordiality.

“I couldn’t help coming to see you off, Prescott,” Cameron found chance to say in an undertone.  “Laura is so deeply interested in your success that I, too, am longing to hear every possible good word as to your future career.  Laura couldn’t be more interested in you if she were truly your sister.”

That was the sting that made Dick’s going away bitter.  Cameron’s manner was so easy and assured that Dick saw the crumbling of one of his more than half built castles in Spain.

The train carried the two cadets away.  The parents of both young men had seen to it that the cadets went away in a parlor car.  Dick and Greg, after leaving Gridley behind, swung their chairs around so that, while they looked out of the window, their heads were close together.

“Cameron had a nerve to show up, didn’t hey” demanded Greg indignantly.

“I don’t know,” Dick replied very quietly.  “He tried to be very kind and cordial.”

“Shucks!” uttered Greg, disgustedly.  “Doesn’t he know that Laura Bentley is your girl, and that he’s only a b.j. hanger-on there?”

“I’m afraid Laura herself doesn’t know that she’s my girl,” sighed Dick.

Cadet Holmes swung about so that he could gaze straight into his comrade’s face.

“Dick, didn’t you tell her?” demanded Greg aghast.

“You have to do something more than tell a girl,” smiled Prescott patiently, though wearily.  “You have to ask her.”