Prescott had not had time to bend close enough to see which.
Yet no sooner had Dick vaulted back into saddle again than the remembrance of that cuff flashed upon him.
"Dodge has been excelling in daily recitations, yet can't do as well at general review!" flashed hotly through Prescott's mind.
"And Dodge, the high-souled one who loathes cribs! If that writing on his cuff isn't a crib of today's math., then I'm a plebe!" The thought would not down, even for a moment.
Dick became wilder in his thoughts the more he thought about it.
"The cribber! And he sought to blast me here on a false charge of cribbing.

For now I know in my soul that he put that paper crib in my handkerchief that Friday morning months ago!" Dick's indignation, as he rode, was more than personal.

True, he longed to show up the sneak who had nearly wound up another and honest cadet's career here at West Point.

But there was an even higher purpose in Prescott's mind at the same time.

The corps of cadets loathes a cribber as it does any other kind of cheat or liar.