“Happy in the—–­nothing!” exploded Greg.  “I told you, weeks ago, that if you quit the service, I would do the same thing.”

“But you won’t,” urged Dick.  “In these weeks you have had time to reflect and turn sensible.”

“Do you suppose I care to go on, old chum, if you don’t?”

“Yes,” answered Dick quietly.  “And if the case were reversed, and you were resigning, I should go on just the same and stick in the service.  Why, Greg, if we both went on into the Army, and under the happiest conditions, we wouldn’t be together, anyway.  You might be in one regiment, down in Florida, and I in another out in the Philippines.  When I was serving in Cuba, you’d be in Alaska.  Don’t be foolish, Greg.  I’ve got to leave, but there’s no earthly reason why you should.  Your resigning would be mistaken loyalty to me, and would cast no rebuke or regret over the cadet corps or the Army.  The fellows who are going to stick would simply feel that one weak-kneed chap had dropped by the wayside.  They’d merely march on and forget you.”

“There goes the first call for dinner formation,” cried Holmes, wheeling and beginning his hasty preparations.

“That’s better,” laughed Dick, as he shoved his resignation into the drawer of the table.

Then Dick, too, made his hurried preparations.  Second call found them ready to watch the forming of A company.  At the command Dick gave his own company order: 

“Fours right!  Forward—–­march!”

Away went A company, at the head of the corps, the whole long line giving forth the rhythmic sound of marching feet.

No outsider could have guessed that the young senior cadet captain was utterly discredited by the majority of his class, and that he was about to drop hopelessly out of this stirring life.

On the return from dinner Dick went at once to his room.

“What are you going to do?” demanded Greg impatiently, as Prescott seated himself at the study table.

“I am going to address an envelope to hold the sheet of paper of which you so much disapprove.”

Greg knew it was useless to expostulate.  Instead, he hurried out, found Anstey, and called the Virginian so that both could stand in the place where they would be sure to see Prescott if he attempted to come out.

Feverishly, in undertones, Greg confided the news to Anstey.

“I don’t just see what we can do, suh,” answered the southerner with a puzzled look.

“Prescott is doing, suh, just what I reckon I’d do myself, suh, if I were in his place.”

“But we can’t lose him,” urged Greg.

“I know we’ll hate like thunder to, suh.  But what can we do?  Can we beg Prescott to stay, and face the cold shoulder, suh, all the time he is here, and in the Army afterwards?”

“I’m not getting much comfort out of you, Anstey,” muttered Greg grimly.

“And that, suh, is because I don’t see where the comfort comes in.  Holmesy, don’t think I’m not suffering, suh.  It’ll break my heart to see old ramrod drop out of the corps.”