now in his waste basket. "Who knows but that, in this new
atmosphere, Bert Dodge may turn out to be a man? West Point will
do that very thing for him, if any new surroundings can."

As the battalion marched to supper that night Bert Dodge felt in
his heart that hazing must already have started for him; for, being
the only candidate left at West Point, and having no uniform as
yet, Dodge was compelled to march, in his rather gay "cit." attire,
at the extreme end of the battalion line.

Bert did not march quite alone, however.

Just behind him, majestic, unbending, lynx-eyed and exacting,
marched Cadet Corporal Spurlock, who was known as the "worst"
(strictest) of the Yearling cadet officers.

"Chest out, Mr. Dodge! Don't wobble so at the knees, sir! Can't
you carry yourself straight? Take your chin away from your
chest, Mr. Dodge. Try to keep step, sir. Follow my count--hep! hep!
hep! hep! Mr. Dodge, you're out of step! When I call 'hep' put your
left foot down, sir! But don't keep it down, sir!" added the
exasperated cadet corporal in a furious undertone, as Bert came to
a dead halt. "Mr. Dodge, try to exhibit something close to
intelligence. Now, again, sir! Hep! hep! hep! hep!"

An Army officer stationed at the post drove by on a springboard.
Three young women were with him. They saw and partly understood. The
peal of laughter that floated back from them brought a flush to the
face of the green, pestered candidate.