Wholly unashamed, he passed his arms around his mother, gave her a big hug, several kisses, and then, hat in hand, turned to stroll with her under the trees.

“Dad couldn’t come, I’m afraid?” Dick asked in disappointment.

“He had to stay and look after the store, you know, Dick, my boy.  But the store will be closed two days this week, for your father is coming on here to see you graduate.  Nothing could keep him away from that.”

“And how is everyone at home?  How is Laura?” Dick asked eagerly.

“She will be here in time for the graduation hop,” replied Mrs. Prescott.  “She told me she had seen you so far through your West Point life, that she would feel uneasy over not being here to see the last move of all.  Dick, do you mind your mother asking you a question?  You used to care especially for Laura Bentley, did you not?”

“Why, mother?” asked Prescott with a sudden sinking at heart.

Lounging against the other side of a tree that Prescott and his mother were passing, the disguised Jordan was close enough to hear.

What he heard seemed to deepen the scowl of hatred on his face; but mother and son were soon out of ear shot, and the miserable Jordan slunk away.

CHAPTER XXII

CADET PRESCOTT COMMANDS AT SQUADRON DRILL

The Military Academy found itself in a whirling round of recitations and drills, arranged for the delight of the Board of Visitors.

There were other hundreds of spectators at first, and thousands later, to see all that was going on, for there are hosts of citizens who know what inspiring sights are to be found at West Point in Graduation Week.

“Mr. Prescott is directed to report at the office of the commandant of cadets.”

This order was borne by a soldier orderly immediately after breakfast on the day before graduation.

“Mr. Prescott,” said the commandant, when the tall, soldierly looking cadet knocked, entered and saluted, “you will take command at the cavalry squadron drill, which takes place at three this afternoon.”

Dick’s heart bounded with pleasure.  It was an honor that could come to but one man in the first class, and he was greatly delighted that it should have fallen to him.

“Mr. Holmes will command the first troop, and Mr. Anstey the second,” continued the commandant of cadets, who then rattled off the names of the cadets who would act as subalterns in the squadron.

It was a splendid detail, that of commanding the squadron in the cavalry drill—–­splendid because it is one of the most picturesque events of the week, and also because it calls for judgment and high ability to command.

“I must be sure to get word to mother; she mustn’t miss a sight that will delight her so greatly,” murmured Dick, as he hastened away to notify Greg and Anstey.

This done, he hastened off to other duties, though not without yielding much thought to the belief that Laura Bentley would be here this afternoon, since she was pledged to go with him to the graduation ball in the evening.