and he wants to see the plebe have as much of the beginner's chance
as can be given."

As Dick pushed aside the flap and entered his tent, he beheld
his chum and roommate, Greg Holmes, now a cadet lieutenant, carefully
transferring himself to his spoony dress uniform.

"Going to the hop to-night, old ramrod?" asked Greg carelessly, though
affectionately.

"Not in my line of hike," yawned Prescott. "You know I'm no hopoid."

"Oh, loyal swain!" laughed Greg in mock admiration. "You hop
but little oftener than once a year, when Laura comes on from
the home town! You throw away nearly all of the pleasures of
the waxed floor."

"Even though but once a year, I go as often as I want," Dick answered,
with a pleasant smile.

"But see here, ramrod, an officer is expected to be a gentleman, and
a fellow can't be an all-around gentleman unless he is at ease with
the ladies. What sort of practice do you give yourself?"

"You're dragging a femme to the hop tonight?" queried Dick.

"Yes, sir," admitted Greg promptly.

"Then you're---pardon me---you're engaged to the young lady, of
course?"