The general reviews were drawing toward their close.  In two studies Haynes was making a poor showing, though he believed that he would pass.

Riding drills were being held daily now.  Preparations were being made for the stirring exhibition of cavalry work that was to be shown before the Board of Visitors.

On the afternoon of the day before the visitors were due, Greg started up at the call for cavalry drill.

So did Dick.

“Where are you going?” challenged Cadet Holmes.

“To cavalry drill,” responded Cadet Prescott.

“Who said you could?”

“The K.C. for one; Captain Albutt for another.”

Greg looked, as he felt, aghast at the idea, but he managed to blurt out: 

“What about the rainmakers?”

“Captain Goodwin has examined me again.”

“Surely, he doesn’t approve of your riding yet, Dick?”

“He didn’t say whether he did or not.”

“Then-----”

“But he certified that I was fit to ride.”

“Dick, you didn’t have to do this-----”

“No; but I want to be restored to full duty.  Captain Albutt has informed me that the horse assigned to me will be a dependable, tractable animal, and I shall be on my guard and use my head.”

“I don’t like this,” muttered Greg, as he fastened on his leggings.

“I didn’t suppose you would, so I didn’t tell you anything about it.”

By the time that the second call sounded both young men were prepared, and joined the stream of cadets pouring out of barracks.

Other cadets than Greg expressed their astonishment when they saw Prescott in the detachment.

“Is this wise, old ramrod?” asked Anstey anxiously.

“A soldier shouldn’t play baby forever,” returned Dick.  “And I have permission, or I wouldn’t be here.”

“I don’t like it,” muttered Anstey.

Furlong, Griffin and Dobbs all had something to say.

Haynes didn’t let a word escape him, but his eyes lighted with evil joy.

“Now, I can finish the job, I guess,” throbbed the evil one.

The detachment to which Prescott and some of his friends belonged was formed and marched through one of the sally-ports.  Just beyond, a corporal and a squad of men from the Regular Army cavalry sat in saddle.  Each enlisted man held the bridle of another horse than the one he rode.  As the corporal dismounted his men, the cadets, at the word from their marcher, moved forward and took their mounts.  At the command, the detachment rode forward, by twos, at a walk, down the road that led to the cavalry drill ground below the old South Gate.

It was Greg who rode beside his chum.  In the drill, later, when in platoon front or column of fours, it would be Haynes who would ride on Dick’s left.

The turnback had already made sure that his useful black pin was securely fastened inside his fatigue blouse.