Mother and son were clasped in each other’s arms for a moment.  What they said matters little.  Then Cadet Richard Prescott returned to his bleak room in barracks.

CHAPTER XVI

A VERDICT AND A HOP

Then followed days full of suspense for many besides the accused cadet.

Prescott went mechanically at his studies, with a dogged determination to get high markings in everything.

Yet over mathematics more than anything, he pored.  He fought out his problems in the section room grimly, bent on showing that he could win high marks without the aid of “cribs.”

He was still in arrest, and must remain so until the finding of the court-martial—–­whatever it was—–­had been duly considered at Washington and returned with the President’s indorsement.  All this time Dick’s mother and three faithful Gridley friends remained at the West Point Hotel.  Dick could not go to them; they could not come to him, but notes might pass.  Prescott received these epistles daily, and briefly but appreciatively answered them.

Then he went back furiously to his studies.

Grit could do him little good, except in his studies, if he were fated to remain at West Point.  Grit could not help him in the settling of his fate.  Either the court-martial had found him guilty, or had found him innocent, and all the courage in the world would not alter the verdict.

In the section room in mathematics, Captain Abbott did not show this cadet any disfavor or the opposite.  The instructor’s manner and tone with Prescott were the same as with all the other cadets.

When going to formations some of the cadets rather openly avoided Prescott.  This cut like a knife.  But evidently they believed him probably guilty, and they were entitled to their opinions.  He must possess himself with patience for a few days; there was nothing else to do.

So the week rolled around again to Saturday.  Now here were two afternoons when the young cadet might have gone to his mother and friends at the hotel, had he not been in arrest.  There was to be a hop that night, but he could not “drag” the girl who had been so staunch and sweet.

On this Saturday, when he need not study much, Dick found himself in a dull rage with his helplessness.  The day was bright, clear, cold and sunny, but the young cadet’s soul was dark and moody.  Would this suspense never end?

Dinner was to him merely another phase of duty.  He had no real appetite; he would have preferred to sit brooding at his study table.

The meal over, the battalion marched back, halting, still in formation, at the north side of barracks near the sally-port.

The cadet captain in command of the battalion read some unimportant notices.  Dick did not even hear them.  He knew his fate was not to come to him through this channel.