“Pierson, you know, when a fellow is cut by the corps, his roommate is not required to avoid conversation with the unlucky one.”

“I know that,” replied Pierson coldly.  “But I’ve had all I want of you and from you.  Except when it is absolutely necessary I shall not answer or address you hereafter.”

“How long am I to stay in Coventry?”

Pierson acted as though he did not bear.

“Has formal action been taken, or is this just a flash of prejudice, Pierson?”

No answer.

“Humph!”

The call to form and march on to the parade ground was sounding.  Snatching up his rifle, Haynes stepped out and joined the others.

Haynes did not receive even as much as a cold glance.

“I’m less than a bit of mud to them!” thought the turnback bitterly.  “These fellows would step around a patch of mud, just to avoid dirtying their shoes.”

It was a relief to hear the command to fall in.  Haynes felt still better when the battalion stepped away at its rhythmic step.  He did not have to look at any of his contemptuous comrades now, nor did he need a word from them.

Somehow, though in a daze, the turnback got through dress parade without reproof from any of the watchful cadet officers.  Then, almost immediately after dress parade, came the hardest ordeal of all.

Once more, this time in fatigue uniform, the turnback had to fall in at supper formation.  With the rest he marched away to cadet mess ball, found his place at table and occupied it.

During the meal merry conversation ran riot around the tables.  Haynes was the only man among the gray-clad cadets who was left absolutely alone.

After supper, while Pierson lounged outside, Haynes went back to his room.

Pacing the floor in his deep misery and agitation, he took this vow to himself: 

“I won’t let myself be driven from the Military Academy!  No matter what these idiots try to do to me—–­no matter what indignities they may heap upon me, I’ll keep silent and fight my way through the Military Academy!  I will receive my commission, and go into the Army.  But that fellow Prescott shall never become an officer in the Army, no matter what I have to risk to stop him!”

CHAPTER XXIV

CONCLUSION

For most of the young men at West Point the academic year now came swiftly and joyously to an end.

True, some score and a half of plebes were found deficient, and sent back to their homes.

The same thing happened to a few of the third classmen.

All of the members of the first class succeeded in passing and in graduating into the Army.

The poor plebes who had failed had been mournfully departing, one at a time.

These unhappy, doleful young men felt strangely uncouth in the citizens’ clothes that they had regained from the cadet stores.