square envelope, without crest or monogram, but the paper and
cut were scrupulously good and fine. It was the kind of stationery
that would be used by girl brought up in a home of refined
surroundings.

Dick broke the seal with a consciousness of a little thrill that
he had not felt in opening his mother's letter. Dick did not
have to look for the signature; he knew the penmanship.

"My Dear Mr. Prescott," began the letter. ("Hm!" muttered the
reader. "It used to be 'Dick'")

"Your note came as a delightfully pleasant surprise," Dick read
on ("Now, I wonder why it should have been a surprise? Great
Scott! Now, I come to think of it, I hadn't written her before
since last February!")

"Of course we are going to drop all other plans for a flying visit
to West Point," the letter ran on. "Belle is simply delighted
with the idea. She has heard from Mr. Darrin, but he suggests
September as the best time for us to visit Annapolis. So mother
will bring Belle and myself to West Point. We can spend two or
three days there. We shall arrive late on the afternoon on-----"

As Dick read the date, he gave a start.

"Why, they'll be here tomorrow afternoon," throbbed Prescott.

Then and there Prescott stood up in the low-ceilinged tent and
tossed his campaign hat up to the ridgepole. That piece of headgear