"They're all fellows that I hazed when they were plebes, and they haven't forgiven me.

I see clearly enough that, if I am to have an explanation, or get a chance to make one, I must do it through the members of my old class." Some distance down the quadrangle stood Brayton and Spurlock, first classmen and captains in the cadet battalion.
"They're high-minded, decent fellows," said Haynes to himself.
"I will go to them and get this nasty business set straight." Past several groups of cadets stalked Haynes, affecting not to see any of the fellows.

But these cadets appeared equally indifferent to being recognized.
Brayton and Spurlock were talking in low tones when the turnback approached them.
"Brayton," began Haynes, "I want to ask you to do me a bit of a favor." Brayton did not stop his conversation with Spurlock, nor did he show any other sign of having heard the turnback.
"Brayton! I beg your pardon!" But the first classman did not turn.
"Spurlock," asked Haynes, in a thick voice, "are you in this tommy-rot business, too ?" Spurlock, however, seemed equally deaf.
"Then see here, both of you-----" insisted Haynes, choking with anger.
The two first classmen turned their backs, walking slowly off.
There was no chance to doubt the fate that had overtaken him.
Haynes had been "sent to Coventry." Henceforth, as long as he remained in the corps of cadets, he was to be "cut." No other cadet could or would speak to him, under the same penalty of also being sent to Coventry.
Henceforth the only speech that any cadet would have with him would be a necessary communication on official business.

Socially there was no longer any Cadet Haynes at West Point.
Once, two years before, Haynes had helped to put this punishment on a plebe, who had soon after quitted the Academy.
Then Haynes had thought that sending another to Coventry was, under some circumstances, a fine proceeding.

But now the like fate had befallen him! "The fellows don't really mean it.