CHAPTER XXIV.
CONCLUSION For most of the young men at West Point the academic year now came swiftly and joyously to an end.
True, some score and a half of plebes were found deficient, and sent back to their homes.
The same thing happened to a few of the third classmen.
All of the members of the first class succeeded in passing and in graduating into the Army.
The poor plebes who had failed had been mournfully departing, one at a time.
These unhappy, doleful young men felt strangely uncouth in the citizens' clothes that they had regained from the cadet stores.
Yet everyone of these plebes received many a handshake from the upper classmen and a hearty good wish for success in life.
More doleful still felt the dropped third classmen, who had been at the Military Academy for two years, and who had thoroughly expected to "get through" into the Army somehow.
It was now a little before the time when cadets must hasten to quarters to attire themselves for dress parade.
Several score of cadets still lingered in the quadrangle when Greg Holmes and Pierson suddenly appeared, heading straight for one of the largest groups, in which Dick Prescott stood.
"Heard any news lately ?" asked Greg, a pleased twinkle in his eyes.
"Nothing startling.

We've been supplying new, dry handkerchiefs to the poor, late plebes," answered Brayton.
"Haven't heard about that fellow Haynes ?" asked Greg.
"Nothing," admitted Brayton.
"Well, you see," exclaimed Pierson, "Haynes made up his mind to disregard the grand cut.

He determined to stick it out, anyway, even for a whole year." "He'll have a sweet time of it, then," put in Spurlock dryly.
"I never heard of a fellow who got the general cut lasting a whole year here before." "That was Haynes's decision, anyway," went on Pierson.

"This is no guess work.

The fellow told me so himself." "I reckon, suh, maybe we'll be able to change his mind," drawled Anstey.
"No you won't," broke in Greg decisively.