At the command Dick gave his own company order: "Fours right! Forward---march!" Away went A company, at the head of the corps, the whole long line giving forth the rhythmic sound of marching feet.
No outsider could have guessed that the young senior cadet captain was utterly discredited by the majority of his class, and that he was about to drop hopelessly out of this stirring life.
On the return from dinner Dick went at once to his room.
"What are you going to do ?" demanded Greg impatiently, as Prescott seated himself at the study table.
"I am going to address an envelope to hold the sheet of paper of which you so much disapprove." Greg knew it was useless to expostulate.

Instead, he hurried out, found Anstey, and called the Virginian so that both could stand in the place where they would be sure to see Prescott if he attempted to come out.
Feverishly, in undertones, Greg confided the news to Anstey.
"I don't just see what we can do, suh," answered the southerner with a puzzled look.
"Prescott is doing, suh, just what I reckon I'd do myself, suh, if I were in his place." "But we can't lose him," urged Greg.
"I know we'll hate like thunder to, suh.

But what can we do?
Can we beg Prescott to stay, and face the cold shoulder, suh, all the time he is here, and in the Army afterwards ?" "I'm not getting much comfort out of you, Anstey," muttered Greg grimly.
"And that, suh, is because I don't see where the comfort comes in.

Holmesy, don't think I'm not suffering, suh.

It'll break my heart to see old ramrod drop out of the corps." "Then you don't think we can stop Prescott ?" "I reckon I don't Holmesy.