pounding us every now and then. Mr. Pollock, believe me, cadet
is mighty lucky whose home paper doesn't say anything about him."

"What is the matter?" asked the editor gravely. "Are the other
cadets jealous?"

"No; it isn't that," Prescott answered. "That sort of thing is
done, at West Point, to keep from getting the 'big head.' Probably
your memory goes back easily to the Spanish War days. You will
remember that Mr. Hobson, of the Navy, sank the Merrimac in the
harbor at Santiago, so that the Spanish ships, when they got out,
had to come out in single file. Mr. Hobson has a younger brother
then at the Military Academy. Well, the story still runs at West
Point that Military Cadet Hobson was forced to read aloud all
the best things about his brother in the Navy that the other cadets
could find in the newspapers. Besides that, Cadet Hobson, so
we are told today, had to 'sail' chips on a tub of water, at the
same time bombarding the chips with pebbles and cheering for his
brother. At West Point it doesn't pay a cadet to be famous, even
in the light of reflected glory. Now, that is why I beg you, not
to give Greg and myself the write-up that you propose."

"All right, then," sighed the editor.

"On the other hand, Mr. Pollock, I'll tell you all manner of lively
and printable facts about West Point, if you won't mention Greg
or myself or even mention the fact that Gridley has any cadets at
the Military Academy."

"That will have to answer," nodded Mr. Pollock. "But we wanted to