A great deal to be accomplished in a few minutes by the average American boy!  Yet let one of these cadets be late at dinner formation, without an unquestionably good excuse, and he must pay the penalty in demerits.  These demerits, according to their number, bring loss of prized privileges.

Cadet Jordan, having done little, was among the first to be clean and presentable.  Immaculate, trim and trig he looked as he stepped from his tent, but on his face lay a scowl that boded ill for his appetite at the coming dinner.

Dick was a master of swift toilets.  He was on the company street almost immediately after Jordan had stepped out under the shadow of a tree.

“Prescott,” began Jordan stiffly, “I want a word or two with you.”

“Yes?” asked Dick, looking keenly at his classmate.  “Very good.”

“Why did you report me this morning?”

“Because you performed the work in an indolent, laggard manner, even after I had cautioned you.”

“Do you consider yourself called upon to be a judge of your classmates?”

“When I am detailed in command over them in any duty—–­yes.”

“Shall I tell you what I think of you for reporting me?”

“It would be in bad taste, at least,” Dick answered.  “It is against the regulations for a cadet to call another to account for reporting him officially.”

“Oh, bother the regulations!”

“If that is actually your view,” replied Dick, with a smile, “then I will leave you to the enjoyment of your discovery concerning the regulations.”

“Prescott, you are a prig!” snapped Mr. Jordan.

“If it were necessary to determine that, as a matter of fact,” answered Dick coolly, though he flushed somewhat, “I would rather leave it to a decision of the class.”

“Oh, I know you have plenty of bootlicks,” sneered Jordan.  “I also know that you are class president.  But that is no reason why you should act as though you thought yourself a bigger man than the President of the United States.”

“Jordan, has the sun been affecting your head this forenoon?” demanded Dick, with another keen look at his classmate.

“Well, you do act as though you thought yourself bigger than the President,” insisted Jordan sneeringly.

“I am a cadet, not yet capable of being a second lieutenant, in the Army,” Dick replied, regaining his coolness.  “The President is commander-in-chief of the combined Army and Navy.”

“You are utterly puffed up with your own importance,” cried Jordan
hotly, though in a discreetly low voice.   “Prescott, you are-----”

Something in Jordan’s eyes warned Dick that a vile insult was coming in an instant.

“Stop!” commanded Prescott, shooting a look full of warning at his classmate.  “Jordan, don’t say anything that will compel me to knock you down in plain sight of the camp.  It’s years since such a thing as that has happened at West Point!”