Haynes was a former second classman, who, on account of illness in the latter half of his third year, had been allowed to “turn back” and join the new second class.

It often happens that a “turnback” is not extremely popular with the new class that he joins.  Not less often does it happen that the turnback wonders at the comparative lack of esteem shown him.  The reason, however, is very likely to be found in the fact that the turnback considers himself a mile or so above the new class members with whom circumstances have compelled him to cast his lot.

It was so in this instance.  Haynes felt that he was, properly, a first classman.  True, the members of the first class, which he had fallen behind, did not take that view of the case.

“You fellows busy?” asked Haynes, as he took a seat across the foot of Prescott’s cot bed.

“Oh, no more busy than cadets usually are,” smiled Dick pleasantly.  “We are finding the new grind a hard one—–­that’s all.”

“Now, there’s nothing very hard about the first half of the year in this class,” replied Haynes knowingly.  “I’ve been through it you know.”

“You’re lucky,” rejoined Greg.  “We haven’t been through it—–­yet.”

Hayes, however, chose to regard what was meant as a slight hint.

“Don’t bone too hard at this first-term stuff, fellows,” he went on.  “Save your energies for the second half of the academic year.”

“I wonder whether we shall have any energies left by that time,” replied Greg, opening one of his text-books in philosophy with a force that made the cover bang against the desk.

“Oh, go ahead and bone ‘sound,’ then, if you want,” permitted Mr. Haynes.  “I’ll talk to Prescott.  Old ramrod, I haven’t seen you at any of the hops this year.”

“Haven’t had a femme to drag,” replied Dick, as he picked up a sheet of notes and began to scan it.

“Why don’t you turn pirate, then, as I do,” yawned Haynes, “and get the fellows to write you down on the cards they’re making up for their femmes?”

“I hadn’t thought of that,” replied Dick.  “I don’t believe, when I have no femme to drag to the hops, that it would make me any more popular with the fellows, either.  A fellow who pirates at all should drag a spoony femme pretty often himself.”

“Why,” asked Hayes, opening his eyes rather wide, “are you boning bootlick with any but officers?”

“Boning bootlick” means to curry favor.  Occasionally a cadet who wants cadet honors resorts to “boning bootlick” with the tactical officers stationed at the academy.

“I’m not boning bootlick with cadets or with officers either,” retorted Dick rather crisply.

“I’ve never had the delight of wearing chevrons, you know.”

Haynes flushed a trifle.  The year before he had worn a sergeant’s chevrons.  This year, for some reason, he did not have the chevrons.

“Wearing chevrons isn’t the only sign of bootlick,” replied Haynes.