"Candidates turn out promptly!"

"There's our slave-driver once more," frowned Candidate Holmes.

Dick, as he raced down the stairs, remembered to button his coat
down its entire length. Greg forgot. As he darted through the
doorway to the porch overlooking the area he found Corporal
Brayton's gaze fastened upon him in severe displeasure.

"Mr. Holmes, button your coat, sir!"

Reddening and frowning, too, it must be admitted, Greg obeyed.

"All candidates will pass quickly through the north sally port and
make formation," continued the cadet corporal.

Here the entire uniformed cadet corps was forming, facing the
plain. At the extreme left of the line a cadet lieutenant, two
sergeants and four cadet corporals busied themselves with forming
the candidates and alternates in line. When the word was given the
cadet corps wheeled to the right and marched off in column of
fours, quite a splendid model of military precision.

Somehow the un-uniformed greenhorns managed to turn into
column of fours, though some of the bewildered boys forgot to
which four they belonged and there was some confusion.

Behind the superb cadet corps, toiled along these all but hopeless
candidates and alternates, scores and scores of them--every fellow
of them feeling more awkward than his nearest neighbors in the