seemed to sting him. Then, as suddenly, he went white, clammy
perspiration beading his forehead and temples.

This was the verdict of the class---of the corps? He had offended
the strict traditions and inner regulations of the cadet corps, and
was pronounced unfit for association!

That explained the constrained atmosphere at this one table, the
one spot in all the big room where silence replaced the merry
chatter of mealtime.

"The fellows are mighty unjust!" thought Dick bitterly, as he
went on eating mechanically. He no longer knew, really, whether
he were eating meat, bread or potato.

That was the first thought of Prescott. But swiftly his view
changed. He realized about him, were hundreds of the flower of
the young manhood of the United States. These young men were
being trained in the ways of justice and honor, and were trying
to live up to their ideals.

If such an exceptional, picked body of young men had condemned
him---had sentenced him to bitter retribution---was it not wholly
likely that there was much justice on their side?

"The verdict of so many good and true men must contain much justice,"
Prescott thought, as he munched mechanically, trying proudly to
bide his dismay from watchful eyes. "Then I have offended against
manhood, in some way. Yet how? I have obeyed orders and have
performed my duties like a soldier. How, then, have I done wrong?"