“Oh, well, he’d never be happy in the Army, anyway,” replied Spurlock.  “Out in the Army the other officers can take care of a dishonorable comrade even more effectively than we do.”

“What made Haynes fess out, I wonder?” pondered Brayton aloud.

“Being sent to Coventry got on his nerves so that he couldn’t pull up enough at review and the writs,” replied Pierson.  “He wasn’t one of the bright men, anyway, in the section rooms.”

“By Jove, suh!  There’s the fellow now!” muttered Anstey.

The others turned slightly to see Haynes, out of the gray uniform that he had disgraced, wearing old cit. clothes and carrying a suit case, step out and cross the quadrangle to the office of the K.C.

A few minutes later, Haynes came out of the cadet guard house.  Knowing that he would never have the ordeal to face again, Haynes summoned all his “brass” to the surface and stepped down the length of the quadrangle.  He passed many groups of curious cadets, none of whom, however, sent a look or a word to him.

Then on out through the east sally-port strode Haynes.  On the sidewalk beyond, he passed Captain Albutt.  Haynes did not salute the officer; he didn’t have to.  Even had Haynes saluted, Captain Albutt could not have returned this military courtesy, for Haynes was no longer a member of the American Military establishment.

* * * * * * *

On the afternoon of the day following the graduating exercises came to a brilliant finish at Cullum Hall.  Brayton, Spurlock and their classmates were honorably through with West Point, their new careers about to open before them.

Cadet Dick Prescott came forth from the exercises, a look of radiant happiness on his face.

He had been ordered before a board of surgeons that morning.  Just as a formality he was to go before a medical board again in August.

“But that’s only a piece of red tape,” Captain Goodwin had explained to him.  “By wonderful good luck, or rather, no doubt, thanks to Captain Albutt’s gallantry, your spine is now as sound as ever.  Come before us in August, but I can tell you now that the August verdict will be O.K.”

“My, but you look like the favorite uncle of the candy kid!” muttered Greg, as the two chums in gray strode along together.

“Why shouldn’t I?” retorted Dick.  “My spine is all right, and I’m to stay in the service.  Then besides, Greg, old fellow, think what we are now.”

“Well, what are we?” asked Greg.

“First classmen!  Only a year more, Greg, to the glorious old Army!  Think of it, boy!  In blue, in a year, and wearing shoulder-straps!”

“I wish we had just graduated, like Brayton, Spurlock and the rest,” muttered Greg.

“You want to rush things, don’t you, lad?”

“But Dick, you see,” murmured Holmes, “a cadet can’t marry.”

“Oh, still harping on Miss Number Three?” laughed his chum.