Only two of the new plebes had been dropped, they having been found wholly and absolutely unfit to keep the brain-fagging pace of academic work at West Point.
"I never minded study back home," muttered Greg, as he and Dick toiled setting their few belongings to rights under canvas.

"But, the way the study-gait is kept up here at West Point, I certainly say 'hurrah' with all my heart at the thought that books are closed for all summer." "We'll be back at the grind in September again," laughed Dick.
"And I'm assured that we haven't struck the real study-gait yet; that these new three months from March on are only to break us in a bit, so that we won't mind the real thing so much when we meet it in September." "Then you give me cause for gloomy thought," shuddered Greg.
"Make way for a future general," grinned Anstey, as, with both arms full of belongings he forced his way into the tent.

The cadets were housed three to a tent, and Anstey, to the great delight of Dick and Greg, had been assigned to bunk with them.

Anstey, too, was delighted, for the young Virginian was a gentleman of the actual type, who had been growing steadily more weary of the sham "gentleman" that Bert Dodge had so far illustrated.
"I'm tent orderly this week," announced Dick, with a grin.

"I received that very important news five minutes ago.