“He refused to explain to our class committee how he happened to be on band at just the time to catch Jordan,” shouted Durville.

“Then be assured he had a good military, a good soldierly, a good manly reason for his silence,” clamored Anstey.

The meeting was an excited one from all points of view.  In the end the best that the staunch friends of Dick could secure was that action on the resignation of the class presidency be deferred until a cooler hour, but that the silence be continued for the present.

And so the meeting broke up.  Jordan had been dismayed, fearing that Anstey’s impassioned speech might result in putting his enemy back into greater popularity than ever.

But now Jordan was reassured.  He was satisfied that things were still moving in his direction, and that Prescott’s proud spirit would soon lead him into some action that must make the breach with the class wider than ever.

At noon the next day Prescott returned from the second drill of the forenoon.  In his absence a mail orderly had been around.  An envelope lay on the table addressed to Dick.

“From Laura,” he exclaimed in delight.

“That’ll cheer you some,” smiled Greg.

“Why it’s postmarked from New York,” continued Dick swiftly.  “Whew!  She must be headed this way!”

Hurriedly Prescott tore the envelope open.

“It couldn’t have happened at a worse time,” he muttered, turning white.

“What?”

“Laura, Mrs. Bentley and Belle Meade are in New York, and will reach here this afternoon.  Laura says they have learned that there is a hop on to-night, and they are bringing their prettiest frocks.”

“Whew!  That is a facer!” breathed Greg in perplexity.

“Of course I can’t take Laura to the hop.”

“You can, if you have the nerve,” insisted Greg.

“And I have the nerve!” retorted Dick defiantly.  “But how about Laura?  She would discover, within a few minutes, that I am on strained terms with the other fellows.  That would do worse than spoil her evening.”

“Well,” demanded Greg thoughtfully, “why do you need to take her to the hop?”

“Because she says that’s what the girls have come for.”

“Bother!  Do you suppose it’s you, or the hop, that Laura comes for?”

But Dick, instead of being cheered by this view, turned very white.

“I’ve got to tell her,” he muttered hoarsely, “that I’m in eclipse.  That the fellows have voted that I am not a fit associate for gentlemen.”

“And I’ll tell her a heap more,” retorted Cadet Holmes.  “Dick, do you think either of the girls would go back on you, just because a lot of raw, half-baked cadets have got you sized up wrong?  Is that all the faith you have in your friends?  And, especially, such a friend as Laura Bentley?  Was that the way she acted when you were under charges of cribbing?  You were in disgrace, then, weren’t you?  Did Laura look at you with anything but sympathy in her eyes?”