From time to time Dick saw a first classman enter or leave the tent
of Cadet Jordan.

"He seems unusually popular to-night," thought Prescott, with
a smile. "Well, better late than never. Poor Jordan has never
been much of a favorite before. I wonder if my reporting him
to-day has made the fellows take more notice of him? It is a
rare thing, these days, for a first classman to be confined to
his company street."

For Prescott the evening became, in fact, so lonely that presently
he rose, left the encampment and strolled along the road leading
to the West Point Hotel. On other than hop nights, this road
was likely to be crowded with couples. That night, however, nearly
all of the young ladies at West Point had been favored with invitations
to Cullum Hall.

Tattoo was sounding just as Prescott crossed the line at post
number one on reentering camp. In half an hour more, it would
be taps. At taps, all lights in tents were expected to be out,
and the cadets, save those actually on duty, to be in their beds.
An exception was made in favor of cadets who had received permission
to escort young ladies to the hop. Each cadet who had to return
to the hotel, or to officers' quarters with a young lady had received
the needed permission, and the time it would take him to go to
the young lady's destination and return to camp was listed at
the guard tent. Any cadet who took more than the permitted time
to escort his partner of the hop to her abiding place would be
subject for report.