Dick Prescott's Third Year at West Point Part 17

"My ambitions run along different lines," announced Haynes.

"Along different lines than cla.s.s standing?" inquired d.i.c.k.

"Yes; if you mean the kind of cla.s.s standing that comes from the academic board," went on Haynes.

"Why, I didn't know there was any other kind, except standing in drill, and believe nearly all of the men here stand well in drill."

"Oh, there are some other kinds," pursued Haynes. "Personal standing, for instance?"

"Thank heaven personal standing is rather easily reached here,"

replied d.i.c.k. "All a fellow has to do is to be courteous and honorable and his personal standing just about takes care of itself."

"Oh, there are some other little matters in personal standing.

Take the cla.s.s presidency, Prescott, for instance."

"Yes?" queried d.i.c.k. "What about it?"

"Well, you've been president of your cla.s.s for two years."

"Yes; thanks to the other fellows of the cla.s.s."

"Now, Prescott, do you intend to go right along keeping the presidency of the cla.s.s?"

"Why, yes; if the fellows don't show me that they want a change."

"Maybe they do," murmured Haynes.

d.i.c.k wheeled and regarded the turnback rather sharply.

"You must mean something by that, Haynes. What do you mean?"

"Are you willing to resign, if the cla.s.s wants someone else?"

"Of course," replied Prescott, with a snap.

"I'm glad to hear you say that," murmured Haynes.

"See here, Haynes, have you been sent here by any faction in the second cla.s.s?"

"No," admitted the turnback promptly.

"Have you heard any considerable expression of opinion on the subject of a new cla.s.s president being desired."

"No," admitted Haynes, coloring somewhat under the close scrutiny of his comrade in the cla.s.s and the corps.

"You're speaking for yourself only?"

"That's it," a.s.sented the turnback.

"Why don't you want me for cla.s.s president?"

Cadet Haynes looked a trifle disconcerted, but it was always d.i.c.k's way to go openly and directly to the point in any matter.

"Why, perhaps I don't know just how to put it," replied Haynes.

"But see here, Prescott, wouldn't it be better for any cla.s.s---say the second cla.s.s, for instance---to have a man as president who has been longer at the Military Academy than the other members of the cla.s.s?"

"Do you mean," pursued d.i.c.k relentlessly, "that you want to be elected president of the present second cla.s.s, Haynes?"

"Why, I think it would be a nice little courtesy from the cla.s.s,"

admitted the turnback. "You see, Prescott, you've held the honor now for two years."

d.i.c.k smiled, looking straight into the eyes of his visitor, but he made no other answer.

"Now, what do you think about it, Prescott?" insisted the turnback.

"I don't like to tell you, Haynes."

"But I wish you would."

"You'd be offended."

"No; I would---See here not trying to be offensive with me, are you?"

"Certainly not."

"Oh, that's all right then. Go ahead and tell me what you think."

"I was a good deal astonished," went on Prescott, "when back in plebe days, the other fellows chose me for their president. I wasn't expecting it, and I didn't know what to make of it. But the fellows of the cla.s.s gave me that great honor. I stand ready to step down from the honor at any time when the cla.s.s feels that it would like another president."

"I'd like the honor, Prescott. But, of course, I didn't know that you held to it so earnestly. If you don't want to give it up, of course I'll go slow in asking you to do so. But I thought that both you and the cla.s.s would appreciate having as president a man who has been longer at the Military Academy than any of the others."

"If I were to resign the presidency," replied Prescott bluntly, "I don't believe you'd stand a ghost of a show of getting it."

Cadet Haynes sprang to his feet, cheeks crimson, his eyes flas.h.i.+ng.

"Why not?" he insisted.

"Steady, now," urged d.i.c.k. "Don't take offence where none is meant, Haynes. The cla.s.s would want its president to be one who has been with the cla.s.s all along, and who knows all its traditions.

Now, in experience, you're a first cla.s.sman, and you've all the First-cla.s.s traditions. Now, if the cla.s.s were dissatisfied with me, and wanted a new president, I'm pretty certain the fellows would choose someone who had been in our cla.s.s from the start.

Now with you a turnback-----"

Haynes's flush deepened, and he took a step forward, his fists clenching.

"Prescott, do you use that word offensively?"

"No," replied d.i.c.k quietly. "Do you intend your question or manner to be offensive?"

"Not unless you're trying to start it," sniffed the other cadet.