He was even envied, in disregard of the sad event that had given him his leave.
"You fellows make me tired," grumbled Greg.

"My trip has convinced me that I'd sooner tote the water bucket at West Point than own a steam yacht and an automobile anywhere else." Greg's fellow plebes gave a yell of approval, and even some of the upper class men nodded approvingly, if somewhat haughtily.
Hard work went on; for these were anxious days for the plebes.
Would some of them be dropped at the end of this first year?
No one felt certain of his merits, and all worked and studied to the exclusion of most other thoughts.

But at last came the general review, then the information for which all waited was posted.
"I'm satisfied," sighed Dick, after reading the lists.
Greg's work, too, had been satisfactory, as had that of Anstey.

Bert Dodge, also, had got creditably past the examiners.

But eighteen of the plebes were dropped.
All the first-class men passed.