The reader may be sure that Dave Darrin and Dan Dalzell, at Annapolis, knew the state of affairs with their old-time friend and leader.  Greg had sent word of what was happening with Dick.

“Buck up—–­that’s all, old chap,” Dave wrote from the Naval Academy.  “You never did a mean thing, and you never will.  Even your class will learn that before very long.  So buck up!  Hit the center of the line and charge through!  Don’t think Dan and I are not sorry for you, but we’re even more interested in seeing you charge right through all disaster in a way that fits the pride, courage and honor that we know you to possess.  I asked Dan if he had any message to send you.  Old Dan’s reply was:  ’Dick doesn’t need any message.  If there’s any fellow on earth who can jump in and scalp Fate, it’s our old Dick.’  There you are, Army chum!  We’re merely waiting for word that you’ve won out, for you’re bound to.”

January came, and with it the semi-annual examinations.  So high was Dick’s class standing that he had to go up for but one “writ.”  That was Spanish.

“I reckon Spanish is where he falls,” chuckled Durville, when Jordan spoke to him about it.  “It’s easy to make mistakes enough on Spanish verbs and declensions to throw a fellow down and out.  That’ll be Prescott’s line.”

“Of course,” nodded Jordan.  Yet Dick’s enemy was very far from feeling hopeful that such would be the case.

“I never imagined the fellow could stick as long as he has,” Jordan told himself disconsolately.

One night Anstey, just before the semi-ans., took a chance.  Usually the Virginian was careful in matters of discipline.  But now he invited a dozen members of his class to his room to discuss an “important matter.”

“Going?” asked Durville of Jordan.

“I’m not invited, Durry,” replied the other.

“I am, and I’m going.”

“But you don’t know the subject of the meeting?”

“No; that’s what puzzles me,” admitted Durville.  “I’m wondering if it has anything to do with choosing the class ring, or selecting our uniforms for after graduation.”

“You simpleton!” cried Jordan in disgust.  “You don’t see far, do you?  Can’t you guess what the meeting is to discuss?”

“I’m blessed if I can.”

“Anstey, outside of Holmes, has been the most constant friend of Prescott.  Now, Prescott has his chance of passing, if the class ‘silence’ on him can be lifted.  Anstey is going to sound class opinion.  If the ‘silence’ can’t be lifted, then Prescott is going to ‘fess’ down and out, and we shall see the last of him.”

“Poor old fellow!” muttered Durville.  “Say, do you know, I’m growing almost sorry for the poor beggar and his long, bitter dose.”

“After what he did to you?” demanded Jordan with instant scorn.  “Durville, I thought you a man of spirit.”

“May a man of spirit forgive his enemy, especially when he sometimes doubts whether the other fellow really is an enemy?” demanded Durville.