“Nothing particular.”
“Then be at the hop, Anstey, old bunkie—do! I want you to meet both the young ladies, and dance at least a couple of numbers with each.”
“I reckon I’d go through fire or water for you, or Holmesy,” murmured the Virginian quietly.
“Oh, it isn’t going to be anything like such an ordeal as that,” laughed Dick happily. “Just wait until you’ve seen the young ladies. That’s all!”
“As they-----” Anstey paused. Then he went on, after considering: “As they come from home, old ramrod, I should think you and Holmesy would want them all to yourselves.”
“But don’t you understand, you uncivilized being,” demanded Dick, chuckling, “that we can’t dance all the numbers with the girls? It would be a slight on the girls if only two men wanted to dance with them. Besides, we want to show them all that’s best about West Point. We want them to meet as many as possible the very best fellows that are here.”
“My deepest thanks, suh, for the compliment,” replied Anstey, with a deep bow.
“Well, that describes you, doesn’t it?” demanded Dick. “We want these girls to carry away with them the finest impression possible of good old West Point!”
When evening came, and Prescott and Holmes strolled through camp, listening to the band concert, Dick wanted to talk all the time about the coming visit of the girls. Greg answered, though it struck his chum that Holmes was merely politely enthusiastic.
“Say, Dick,” whispered Greg presently, with far greater enthusiasm than he had been displaying, “look at that black-eyed, perfectly tinted little doll that is walking with Griffin!
“Stroll around and meet them face to face presently, then,” grinned Dick. “Griff won’t mind.”
“The deuce he won’t” growled Greg. “I’d have a scrap on my hands, besides being voted a butter-in.”
“Try it,” advised Prescott, giving his chum a little shove. “I tell you, Griff won’t mind. Her name is Griffin, too. She’s his sister.”
A moment later Prescott turned and tried to gulp down a great chuckle. For Greg, without another word, had left him, and now was strolling along with an air of slight absorption, yet his course was so managed as to bring Mr. Holmes face to face with Griffin. At least a dozen other gray and white-clad young men were also to be observed manoeuvring so as to meet Griffin casually. Thus it happened that Greg was but one of a group. Observing this, Holmes increased his stride.
“Hullo, Holmesy!” cried Griffin, with great cordiality. “Glad to encounter you. I’ve just been telling my sister about some of the best fellows. Della, I present Mr. Holmes. Mr. Holmes, my sister!”
Greg lifted his cap in the most polished manner that he had been able to acquire at West Point, while a dozen other men scowled at Griffin, who appeared not to see them.
Miss Adele Griffin was presently chatting most animatedly about her new impressions of West Point and the United States Military Academy.