chairs and two desks that looked as though they had served the
needs of generations of cadets. There was a window that looked
out on the quadrangular area of barracks.

"Well, we're actually here, anyway," breathed Dick, his eyes
sparkling. "We're living in cadet barracks, and we're halfway
through the ordeal of becoming new cadets at the wonderful old
United States Military Academy!"




CHAPTER II

THE TYRANNY OF THE CADET CORPORAL


Dick hung up his coat and hat, and Greg did the same, for the
heat was turned on and the room wholly comfortable as to
temperature.

"I've heard," murmured Greg, "that fellows usually get most
woefully homesick at West Point."

"Then they've no business to come here," retorted Prescott, with
spirit. "Such tender ones won't make soldiers anyway."

"I suppose we shall be awfully looked down on at first," mused
Greg aloud.