And so Greg continued to enumerate a lot of the old Gridley High School boys of whose present doings he had gotten track.  Dick and Greg left the bookstore and started on the rounds to hunt up the best remembered of their old schoolmates.

And a pleasant morning they had of it.  Thought the sun poured down its heat over the little city, these two cadets, who had drilled for two summers on the blistering plain and the dusty roads at West Point, did not notice the warmth of the day.

In the afternoon, in good season, Dick called for Laura, waiting there until Belle Meade arrived under the escort of Greg.

“These West Pointers make the most correct and attentive escorts imaginable,” laughed Belle.  “But there’s just one disadvantage connected with them.”

“I hadn’t noticed it,” smiled Laura.

“Why, when Greg walks beside me, and holds my parasol, I feel as though I were in the street with my parasol tied to the Methodist steeple.  Where’s your rice powder, Laura?  I’m sure the sun has made a sight of my nose and neck.”

Laughing merrily, the young people set off for Miss Sharp’s.  The home was a comfortable one, with attractive grounds, for the elder Sharp was a well-to-do merchant.  Some three score of young people were present, and of these nearly two thirds had belonged to the High School student body in the old High School days of Dick and Greg.  Naturally, the young ladies outnumbered the young men by more than four to one.

“Oh, I am delighted that you two have come,” cried Susie, moving forward to greet her cadet visitors.  This was wholly true, for Miss Sharp had planned the affair solely in order to have the distinction of entertaining the young West Pointers.  Had Dick and Greg remained away, Susie, without doubt, would have been both disappointed and humiliated.

Through the connecting drawing rooms Dick and Greg moved with a grace and lack of consciousness greatly in contrast with their semi-awkwardness in their earlier High School days.  Many pleasant acquaintances were renewed here.

Suddenly, Susie, catching a glimpse of the front walk, hastened out into the hallway.  Then she came in, smiling eagerly, a well-dressed, pompous-looking young man at her side.

“Mr. Prescott!  Mr. Holmes!” called Susie.  “Here is an old comrade whom you both may be surprised to meet!”

Dick and Greg turned, and indeed, they were astonished.  For the latest arrival was Bert Dodge!

“Howdy, fellows!” called Dodge carelessly, though inwardly he was quaking with alarm.  How would these two decent cadets treat the fellow who had been kicked out of West Point for dishonorable acts?

Prescott bowed, but did not speak.  Greg’s line of conduct was identical with his chum’s.

Bert turned white, at first, with mortification.  Then a red flush set in at his neck, extending to his face and temples.  But Dodge possessed “brass,” if not honor, so he decided to face it out.