Down at the railway station the Gridley crowd and the Gridley Band awaited the coming of the team. The fine sight made by the gray military escort brought a hurricane of cheers from the Gridleyites.

Just at the nick of time the leader of the band bethought himself, and signaled his musicians. As the stages drew up the band played, and the Fordham Military Institute's battalion moved into line of battalion front.

Dick feelingly thanked young Major Ransom.

"Oh, that's all right, Prescott," laughed young Ransom. "If we hadn't shown up at all you fellows would have given a good account of yourselves. But we had to do it. Fordham is our headquarters, too, and the honor of the town, while we live and study here, means something to all of us. Don't gauge even the Fordham High School by what happened to-day—-or came near happening. There are some mighty fine fellows and a lot of noble girls who attend Fordham High School. But Barnes—-he's the curse of the school population of the town."

Three or four days later Dick asked Darrin:

"Did you hear the outcome of the Fordham affair?"

"No," Dave admitted.

"I just heard it all up at 'The Blade' office. The fact that the Military School cadets escorted us in such formal manner to the railway station attracted a lot of attention in Fordham. The principal of the High School there started a quiet investigation of his own. Barnes and two other fellows on the Fordham eleven have been suspended from school until the School Board can take up their cases and decide whether they ought to be expelled. The Fordham principal has also made it plain that next year's team will have to be scanned by him, and that he'll keep out of the eleven any fellows who don't come up to the tests. There's a jolly big row on in Fordham, and Barnes isn't having any sympathy wasted on him you can just bet."

"It serves him and that whole football crew just right," blazed Darrin.

Hazelton's injury kept him out of school only a fortnight. The supposed break in his leg turned out to be only a sprain.

While school teams like that commanded by Barnes are rare, they are found, now and then. Yet the fate of rowdy athletes in the school world is usually swift and satisfying. Other schools refuse to compete with schools that are known to put out "rough-house men."

Dick & Co. had laid by their togs. They had said farewell to school athletics.

In the winter's basket ball they did not intend to take part. For the baseball nine, that would begin practice soon after the new year, there was plenty of fine material in the lower classes.

"I feel almost as if I had been to a funeral," snorted Darrin, when he came away from the gym. after having turned in all his togs and paraphernalia.

"It's time to give the younger fellows a show," sighed Dick.

"You talk as though we were old men," gibed Dave.

"In the High School we are," laughed Dick. "We're seniors. In a few short months more we shall be graduates, unless——-"

There he stopped, but Darrin didn't need to look at his chum. Both knew what that pause meant.



CHAPTER XVIII

The Would-Be Candidates

The big stir came earlier than it had been expected.

Every boy who has followed such matters in his own interest will appreciate what the "big stir" means.

Congressman Spokes, representing the district in which Gridley lay, had a vacant cadetship at West Point within his gift, and also a cadetship at Annapolis.

"On December 17, at nine A.M., at the town hall in Wilburville, I will meet all young men who believe themselves to possess the other proper qualifications for a cadetship at either West Point or Annapolis."

So ran the Congressman's announcement in the daily press of the district.

Every young man had to be of proper age, height, weight and general good bodily condition. He must, of course, be a citizen of the United States.

Every young man was advised to save himself some possible trouble and disappointment by going, first of all, to his family physician for a thorough examination. If serious bodily defects were found, that would save the young man from the trouble of going further in the matter.

But at the Wilburville town hall there was to be another physical examination, which every young man must pass before he would be admitted to the mental examinations, which were to last into the evening.

Dick Prescott read this announcement and thrilled over it.

For two years or more he had been awaiting this very opportunity.

Every Congressman once in four years has one of these cadetships to give to some young man.

Sometimes the Congressman would give the chance to a boy of high social connections, or else to the son of an influential politician. A cadetship was a prize with which the Congress man too often paid his debts.

Good old General Daniel E. Sickles was the first Congressman to formulate the plan of giving the cadetship to the brightest boy in district, the young man proving his fitness by defeating all other aspirants in a competitive examination.

Since that time the custom had grown up of doing this regularly. It is true, at any rate of most of the states of the Union. In some western and some southern states the cadetship is still given as a matter of favor.

The young man who receives the appointment goes to the United States Military Academy at West Point. He is now a "candidate" only. At West Point he is subjected to another searching series of physical and mental examinations. If he comes out of them successfully he is admitted to the cadet corps, and becomes a full-fledged cadet.

The candidate must report at West Point on the first of March. If he succeeds in entering the corps, and keeps in it, four years and three months later the young man is graduated from the Military Academy. The President now commissions him as a second lieutenant in the Regular Army. Thus started on his career, the young man may, in later days, become a general.

While the cadet is at West Point he is paid a salary that is just about sufficient for his needs and leaves enough over to enable him to buy his first set of uniforms and other equipment as an army officer.

West Point is no place for idlers, nor for boys who dislike discipline. It is a severe training that the cadet receives, and the education furnished him by the United States is a magnificent and costly one. It costs Uncle Sam more than twenty thousand dollars for each cadet he educates and graduates from the United States Military Academy.

The same general statement is true regarding the United States Naval Academy at Annapolis, Maryland. In the latter institution, however, the cadet learns how to become an officer in the United States Navy.

Now, here were both grand opportunities, offered together.

While Dick Prescott had been waiting, hoping and praying for the cadetship at West Point; Dave Darrin had been equally wistful for the chance to go to Annapolis.

"Our chances have come, old chum!" cried Dick, looking into the glowing face of Darrin.

"Yes; and of course an Army or Navy officer should be a brave man. But now the chance has come, I find myself an utter coward," confessed Dave.

"How so?"

"I'm in a blue funk for fear some other fellow will get it away from me," confessed Darrin honestly. "And if I fail in this great ambition of my life, I'm wondering if I'll have the nerve to go on living afterwards."

"Brace up!" laughed Dick protestingly.

"Now, honestly, old fellow, aren't you just badly scared!" Dave demanded.

"Whisper, Dave! I am," Dick admitted.

"Well, there is nothing like having some one that you can confess everything to, is there?" muttered Darrin.

"I guess it has done us both good to own up," laughed Dick. "But see here!"

"Well?"

"I simply won't allow myself to be scared."

"Then you're as keen for West Point as I am for Annapolis," retorted Darrin suspiciously.

"Dave, old fellow, you know what the Gridley spirit demands? You know how we and the rest of the fellows managed to win eternally in athletics? Just because we made up our minds that defeat was impossible."

"That's fine," laughed Dave. "But we'll probably have to buck up against more fellows than we do on an athletic field. And probably dozens of them go in with the same determination."

"I don't care," declared Prescott. "I want that West Point cadetship. I've wanted it for years, and now the chance has come. I'm going to have it!"

Dave Darrin gradually succeeded in working himself into the same frame of mind. Yet there were many moments when he was tortured by doubts as to whether the "Gridley spirit" would serve in bucking a long line of young fellows all equally anxious to get to Annapolis.

The first step taken by Dick and Dave was to get excused from the High School for the time.

Both boys had lists of the studies and standards required for entrance to the Military Academy or the Naval Academy. Dick and Dave, each in his own room at home, spent the next few days in "boning" as neither had ever "boned" before.

"But we must get three hours in the open air each day, Dave," Dick insisted. "We mustn't go up for the trial with our nerves shattered by moping all the time indoors."

Only Dick & Co., and a very few friends, knew what Dick and Dave were planning. It was kept a secret.

The date of the High School senior ball was set for December 17.

"Can you be back in time to go to the ball?" Laura Bentley asked Prescott.

"I'm afraid not, Laura. Besides, when I get back from Wilburville, I'm afraid I'll feel pretty well tired out."

"You're not afraid of failing?" asked Laura anxiously.

"I'm not going to allow myself to fail. Yet, even if I win, I shall be tired out after the ordeal. Wish the ball could come a couple of days alter the ordeal. I wanted to go to it and to dance with you, Laura."

"I'm sorry you can't go," sighed the girl.

Darrin, too, had given up all thoughts of attending the senior ball, and this was the first time that either lad had "skipped" the class ball.

"It seems too bad to be away," grumbled Dave. "But I know how I'll feel on that night. If I carry off the honors for Annapolis, no mere ball could hold me! I'll need air and space. I'll be lucky if I don't get arrested on that night for building bonfires in the streets."

Dave next sighed dismally and continued:

"If I don't carry off the Annapolis prize, I'll feel so disappointed that I won't look anybody in the face! Dick, Dick! It's fearful, this waiting—-and wanting!"

"It won't seem like the class ball a bit without you two boys," declared Belle Meade, pouting, the next afternoon.

"But if we get through," muttered Dave, "think of the gay, splendid times to which we can invite you at Annapolis and West Point."

"Indianapolis and Blue Point are far away," murmured Belle, purposely misnaming both famous places.

"Ann-apolis!" flared Dave

"West Point!" protested Dick hotly.

"Don't mind Belle," begged Laura quietly. "She's the worst tease I know."

"If I get the appointment to Annapolis," continued Darrin, "you'll be asking me, next, if I expect to be promoted, after a while, to he helmsman, or fireman, on some cruiser."

"Well, would you expect to be!" asked Belle, with an appearance of great innocence.

"Don't, Belle," pleaded Laura. "The boy are too much in earnest. It isn't fair to tease them, now. Wait until they've been at West Point and Annapolis a couple of years. Then ask them."

"What would be the use then?" asked Belle dryly. "By that time our young cadets will have met so many girls that they would have to think back quite a while before they could remember our names."

Laura's pretty color lessened for an instant.

"Don't you believe it," broke in Dick promptly. "Just as soon as I have a right ask for cards for a West Point hop I'm going to ask for cards for Miss Bentley and Miss Deane, and their chaperon."

"The same here, for Annapolis," promised Dave solemnly. "So you see, girls, you'll have to be prepared to do some traveling in the near future.

"But you won't get to Annapolis, anyway, until June," replied Belle, a bit more gently. "So you won't have any Annapolis hops until next fall, will you?"

"Probably not," Dave admitted.

"But you won't go to Annapolis, anyway," suggested Laura, turning to Prescott. "There may be some West Point hops between then and June."

"I feel pretty sure there will be," nodded Dick cheerily. "And you girls may be sure of my keeping my promise."

"And I'll keep mine for the very first hop that comes off at Annapolis after I get there," Darrin assured them.

The laugh was on both young men, though neither they nor their fair young companions knew it.

The poor "plebe," as the first year's man at either West Point or Annapolis is known, would be in for a terrible experience at the hands of his comrades if, during his "plebe" year, he had the "cheek" to seek to attend a cadet hop. He must wait until he has entered his second year before he has that privilege.

This is a wise regulation. In his first year the poor "plebe" has so bewilderingly much to learn that he simply couldn't spare any time for the cultivation of the graces of the ballroom. In his first year, he has dancing lessons, but that is all that comes his way.

Greg Holmes came to Prescott with a wistful, rather sad face.

"How are you coming on, Dick?" Greg asked.

"Meaning what?"

"Are you going to be well prepared for the examinations?"

"As far as being able to pass with a decent percentage," Dick answered, "I am not all uneasy. All that worries me is the fear that some other fellow may have a slightly better percentage. That would ditch me, you know."

"Oh, you'll win out," predicted Greg loyally. "And I just wish I had a chance like yours!"

"Why don't you go in and try for it, then?" urged Dick generously.

"No use," uttered Greg, shaking his head. "You can beat me on the scholastic examination, and I know it, Dick. The best I could hope for would be an appointment as your alternate. And your alternate to West Point isn't going to stand any show for a cadetship, Dick Prescott!"

Besides the candidate each Congressman may appoint one or more "alternates." These alternates also report at West Point. If the "principal" fails there, the alternate is given a chance to make good for the cadetship.

But Greg Holmes, though he was wildly anxious to go to West Point, felt certain that it would be useless to go there as Dick Prescott's alternate.

"I hate to see you not try at all, Greg," declared Dick. "Why don't you try? If you beat me out there won't be any hard feelings."

"I couldn't beat you out, and I don't want to, either," responded Greg. "But wait! I may have something to tell you later on."

Dan Dalzell had much the same kind of a talk with Dave Darrin. Dan felt the call to the sailor's life, but hadn't any notion that he could slip in ahead of Darrin.

"Even if I could, Dave, I wouldn't try it," declared Dan earnestly. "I want badly enough to go to Annapolis, and I admit it. But I believe you're just about crazy to get there."

"I am," Dave admitted honestly. "But the prize goes to the best fellow, Dan. Jump in, old fellow, and have your try at it."

Dalzell, however, shook his head and remained silent on the subject after that.

To both Dick and Dave it seemed as though the next few days simply refused to budge along on the calendar. Certainly neither of them had ever known time to pass so slowly before.

"I hope I'll be able to keep my nerve up until the seventeenth," groaned Darrin.

"Surely, you will," grinned Dick. "You've got to!"

"I've been studying until all the words on a page seem to run together, and I don't know one word from another," complained Dave.

"Then drop study—-if you dare to!"

"I'm thinking of it," proposed Darrin seriously. "Actually, I've been boning so that the whole thing gets on my nerves, and stays there like a cargo of lead."

"Let's pledge ourselves, then, not to study on the fifteenth or the sixteenth," urged Dick.

"I'll go you, right off, on that," cried Darrin eagerly.

"And we'll spend those two days in the open air, roaming around, and trying to enjoy ourselves," added Prescott.

"Enjoy ourselves—-with all the load of suspense hanging over our heads?" gasped Darrin.

"Well, we'll try it anyway."

To most people in and around Gridley the world, in these few days, seemed to bob along very much as usual. Dick and Dave, however, knew better.

At last came the evening of the sixteenth! Both anxious boys turned in early, though neither expected to sleep much. Both, however, were soon in the land of Nod.

But Dick awoke at half-past four on the morning of the fateful seventeenth. By five o'clock he knew that he wasn't going to sleep any more. So he got up and dressed.

Dave Darrin was in his bath, that same morning, before four o'clock. Then he, too, dressed, and wondered whether every other fellow who was going into the contest to-day felt as restless.

The mothers of both boys were astir almost as early. Mothers can't take these examinations, but mothers know what a son's suspense means.

Dick and Dave met at the station a full twenty minutes before train time.



CHAPTER XIX

Tom Reade Bosses the Job

"Ugh!" shivered Dave, as the chums met on the platform. "It's cold out here!"

"Come inside, then, and get warm. But you're a great athlete, to mind an ordinary December morning," laughed Dick Prescott.

Together they stepped into the waiting room.

"What time does our train go?" asked Dave, though he had known the time of this train for the last week.

"Seven-forty," replied Dick.

"And it's seven-twenty, now. Whew, what a await!"

"I could have stayed home a little longer," nodded Dick. "Only I told father and mother that I'd feel more like being started if I got down here this far on the way."

"Sure thing," nodded Dave sympathetically. "My Dad had to hold on to me to stop my leaving the house an hour earlier than I did."

Both boys laughed, though not very heartily. Each was under a terrific strain—-just from wondering!

"If I get through, and win out to-day," muttered Dick, "I know I shan't feel half as anxious when it comes time to take the graduating exams."

"No," agreed Dave. "Then you'll know you have a chance; but to-day you can't be sure of that much."

Five minutes before train time the chums were astonished at seeing another of the chums walk into the station. It was Tom Reade, looking as jovial and contented as a youngster could possibly look.

"Hullo, Tom!" came from Dick.

"Howdy, Tom, old man!" was Dave's greeting.

"Hullo, fellows!" from Reade.

"Where are you bound?" inquired Dick.

"Wilburville?"

"What?"

"Fact!" Reade assured them.

"Going to the exams.?" Dave demanded quickly.

"Yep."

"Why, you never said a word about thinking of West Point," exploded Prescott.

"You were making fun of Annapolis only the other day!" asserted Dave, just as though making fun of Annapolis were one of the capital crimes.

"Hang West Point!" exploded Tom Reade.

"Oh! Then it's Annapolis you're after," grunted Darrin.

"Sink Annapolis!" exclaimed Reade.

"Then what on earth are you after?" demanded Dick.

"Have you any fool idea in your head, Tom, that you can take an exam and stand a chance of getting Congressman Spokes's job away from him?" Dave asked.

Tom threw himself into one of the seats, crossed his feet, thrust his hands down in his ulster pockets, and surveyed the pair before he answered:

"I'll tell you what ails you two. You have a notion that the sun rises at West Point and sets at Annapolis. Now, I know a heap better, and I haven't an eye on either place. Can you fellows guess why I've taken the day off from school and why I'm going to Wilburville?"

"We surely can't," declared Dave.

"Well, then, I'll tell you," promised Tom amiably. "I knew you two good old chaps would be going to pieces with blue funk to-day. I knew you'd be chattering inside, and turning all sorts of colors outside. You'd try to cheer each other, but each of you is too badly scared to be of any use to the other. So I've come along to take up your minds, jolly you and stiffen your backbones alternately. That's my whole job for to-day."

Looking in some amazement at Reade, the other two chums realized that good old Tom was telling the truth.

"Of course, I'll admit," continued Reade, "that, if I were going on the grill to-day, I'd be worse than either of you. But I'm not. I wouldn't live in West Point, and I wouldn't be caught dead at Annapolis, so I shan't have any scares or any nervous streak to-day. I'll look after you both, the best I can, and do what little lies in my power to keep your minds off your troubles."

"Well, who'd ever have thought of a thing like that but Tom Reade?" gasped Dick gratefully.

"It's mighty good of you, old chum," declared Darrin fervently.

"Now, then,"'resumed Reade, uncrossing his legs, "as I'm on the job to look after you, allow me to remind you that that is your train whistling at this moment."

Three very jolly boys, therefore, piled out of the station building and boarded the train.

Tom spoke to the conductor a moment before following the others to seats.

"You see," spoke Reade, "I'm even going to the trouble to make sure that this is the right train, and not a belated express."

"I never though of that," muttered Darrin, turning a bit pale.

"Great Scott!" gasped Dick. "I can feel the cold sweat oozing out at the bare thought. Suppose we had been harebrained enough to get on the wrong train, and be carried so far past that we couldn't get back to Wilburville by nine o'clock!"

"Drop all worry. Don't think of anything alarming, or even disconcerting," chuckled Tom. "I've taken charge of the whole job, and I guarantee everything. One of the little things I guarantee is that you'll both win out to-day."

"In algebra," muttered Darrin, "I hope they won't go too deeply into quadratic equations——-"

"Cut it!" ordered Reade severely. "Likewise forget it! Say, I heard a rattling good story last night. It carries a Dutchman, a poodle, a dude and an old maid. Let me see if I can remember just how it runs."

With that Reade got started. He soon had his two friends started as well. They laughed until the brakeman at last thrust his head in and called:

"Next station, Wilburville!"

"Stop and get out, young man!" called Tom. "Do you think we don't know our way?"

Then into another story plunged Tom Reade. He spun it out, purposely, until the train slowed up at Wilburville.

"'Bus right up to the town hall!" cried a driver, sizing the trio up shrewdly.

"Thank you; that's our auto over there," nodded Tom, pointing to a lunch wagon. Reade started the chums at a brisk walk. Of the first native they met they inquired the way.

Tom was still talking at forty horse-power when they came to the town hall.

"That building holds our fate!" muttered Dave, as they drew near.

"Stop that!" ordered Tom. "Anyone would think that Annapolis was all the candy in the land. What are you worrying about, anyway? Haven't I taken all the responsibility for this thing upon myself? Haven't I promised you both that you shall find your little toy appointments in your Christmas stockings? Do you think I'm lying?"

"But the exams!" groaned Dave.

"Well, they're competitive," quoted Tom cheerily.

"That's just what ails 'em!" argued Dave.

"You make me think of my cousin, Jack Reade, of the militia," taunted Tom. "He's a captain. Now, Jack wanted to be appointed assistant inspector general of rifle practice. He was ordered up for his exam. Poor fellow spent three weeks, days and nights, boning for that exam. The family had the doctor in twice, for they were afraid Jack was studying himself crazy. Then the day came for the exam. Jack went into the ordeal shivering. The examiner asked Jack to write down his full name, the date of his birth, and the date of his entry into the militia. Jack answered all three questions straight, and got a hundred per cent. for his marking. Yet you fellows talk about exams as though they were really hard!"

Still laughing the three passed inside.

Dick Prescott had firmly resolved to do no more talking about the ordeal. But Darrin hadn't. So, after the boys had entered the building, and had climbed to the next floor, where the hall was, and had taken a look inside, Dave drew back into the corridor.

"Great guns, did you look inside?" he demanded. "There are a million boys in there already."

"Cheer up," soothed Tom. "Most of 'em want to go to West Point."

Tom fairly forced his chums inside. The boys already there, some three-score, at least, turned to regard the newcomers curiously.

"The rest of you may as well go home," announced Tom laughingly. "My friends have a first mortgage on the jobs you're after."

Presently, more fellows came in. Then some more, and still more.

"Let's go down and stand by the door, where we can get more air," urged Darrin.

"Yes," agreed Tom. "And we'll throw out any of the rest that may have a nerve to try to step in here."

Hardly had they taken their stand by the door when the three chums received a shock.

For the next arrivals were Phin Drayne, and his father, Heathcote Drayne.

Phin was now in attendance at the Wilburville Academy, and his father had come down, the evening before, to urge his son to try for West Point.

Tom looked the newcomer over with especial disfavor. Young Drayne, like many another "peculiar" fellow, was an unusually good student. At any time Drayne would have a very good chance of coming out even with, or just ahead of, either Dick or Dave.

The Draynes did not favor our three chums with any greeting, but walked on down into the hall.

"Excuse me a minute," murmured Tom. "I want to find out how the land lies."

Tom thereupon walked boldly over to the Draynes.

"May I speak with you just a moment, Mr. Drayne?" asked Tom.

"Go ahead," replied Mr. Heathcote Drayne, not over-graciously.

"It is important, sir, that I speak with you aside," Tom went on.

Heathcote Drayne scowled, then stepped to one side, turning and glancing down at Reade.

"Well, young man, what is it?"

"I thought it barely possible," continued Tom coolly, "that I might be able to offer you a hint or two worth while."

"Worth whose while?" demanded Heathcote Drayne, suspiciously.

"Yours. Has your son come here to compete for either the West Point or Annapolis cadetship?"

"What if he has?"

"Then has Phin his certificates of good character with him?" demanded Tom, his blue eyes steely and cold as he looked straight and significantly at the elder Drayne.

"Confound your impudence, Reade! What do you mean?"

"Just this," continued Tom readily. "Only boys of good character are eligible for West Point or Annapolis. Now, the fact is, your son was expelled from Gridley High School for a dishonorable action. Are you content to have your son try for a cadetship, with that record hanging over his head and enveloping his chances?"

"Who'll know anything about that record if you don't blab?" demanded Mr. Drayne.

"Why, your son would have to state where he had attended school, and furnish certificates of good character from his teachers," ran on Reade. "Now, honestly, do you think that Dr. Thornton, of Gridley High School, would furnish a certificate on which Congressman Spokes could appoint your boy to West Point or Annapolis? Because, if you think so," wound up Reade, "go ahead and put Phin in the running, to be sure."

With that Tom marched off back to his chums.

"What have you been up to?" asked Dick curiously.

"I'm manager for you two half-witted fellows, ain't I?" queried Reade.

"What have you been saying to Mr. Drayne?" asked Dave.

"Just watch father and son, and see how they seem to be enjoying their talk," chuckled Tom. "There, what do you see now? I thought it would end like that."

This was the first time it had occurred to the elder Drayne that his son's character would be inquired into. In fact, Mr. Drayne had had half an idea that the United States Military Academy was a place that made a specialty of reforming wild boys and making useful citizens of them.



CHAPTER XX

When the Great News Was Given Out

At just nine o'clock Congressman Spokes came on to the platform followed by two other men.

One of these latter was a town official, who, in a very few words, introduced the Member of Congress.

Congressman Spokes now addressed the young men upon the vocations they were seeking to enter. He explained that neither the Military nor the Naval Academy offered an inducement to boys fond only of their ease and good times.

"At either school," warned the Congressman "you will find ahead of you years of the hardest work and the strictest discipline. No boy whose character is not good can hope to enter these schools of the nation. It is not worth any boy's while to enter unless he stands ready to sacrifice everything, his own ideas and prejudices included, to the service of his country and his flag."

Congressman Spokes continued in this line for some time. Then he called for the boys who wished to try for West Point to gather at the right side of the hall; those for Annapolis at the left side.

"This is the first time you and I haven't been on the same side in everything, old fellow," Dick whispered smilingly, as he and Dave Darrin parted.

What a hurried count the interested youngsters made! But Tom Reade, who didn't belong to either crowd, probably made the most accurate count. He discovered that sixty-two of the boys had voted for West Point. Forty-one favored Annapolis. A few young men present, like Tom, didn't care to go to either government school.

"When I am ready to give the word," continued Congressman Spokes, "the young men who want to go to West Point will file out of the door at this end of the hall. In the rooms across the corridor they will find the physicians who are making the physical examinations for West Point.

"The Annapolis aspirants will file downstairs and enter through the first door at the left, where other physicians will make the physical examinations for Annapolis.

"The examinations by the physicians here will not be conclusive for the successful candidates. The final physical examinations, like the final scholastic examinations, will be made at West Point and Annapolis.

"Now, each young gentleman who passes the physical examination will receive a signed card with his name on it. Such successful young men are then excused until one o'clock. At one o'clock sharp the young men who have certificates from the medical examiners may report for their scholastic examinations. Do not come here, however, for the scholastic examinations. West Point aspirants will report at the High School, and those for Annapolis at the Central Grammar School.

"Now, at eight o'clock this evening you return here. At that hour, or as soon there after as possible, announcement will be made, from this platform, of the names of the successful young men and their alternates. Now the young men for West Point forward, the Annapolis hopefuls downstairs!"

Inside of two minutes the town hall was bare, save for the presence of Tom Reade, who, with his hands in his pockets, walked about, whistling.

In forty-five minutes Dick, flushed an breathless, broke in upon Tom, as the latter sat waiting patiently for his friends.

"I've passed the doctors all right," announced Dick, producing his card.

"That's all right, then," nodded Tom. "And the rest will be easier."

Twenty minutes later Dave Darrin join them.

"I've passed—-that part of the trial," he proclaimed.

"Then, until twelve o'clock, there's nothing to do but go out and kill time," declared Reade.

"Twelve o'clock" repeated Dick. "You mean one o'clock."

"I mean twelve," retorted Tom, with emphasis. "At twelve you eat; you don't gorge, but you chew and swallow something nourishing. Then you'll be in fit shape for the little game of the afternoon."

Both of the chums had reason to realize the weight of their debt to jovial, helpful Reade; who was banishing care and keeping their minds off their suspense. In fact time passed quickly until it was time for Dick and Dave once more to part, to seek their separate examinations.

Just forty of the boys who wanted to go to West Point had passed the doctors as being presumably fit in body and general health. Twenty-seven of the Annapolis aspirants had passed the doctors. Already three dozen disappointed young Americans were on their way home, their dream over.

Tom Reade chose to walk over to the local High School with Dick. Dave found his way alone to his place of examination.

Dick Prescott and the thirty-nine other aspirants were assembled in one of the class rooms at the High School. On each desk was a supply of stationery. After the young men had been seated the examination papers in English were passed around. This examination Dick thought absurdly easy. He finished his paper early, and read it through three times while waiting for the papers to be collected.

History was a bit harder, but Dick was not especially disturbed by it. Not quite so with geography. Dick had had no instruction in this branch since his grammar school days, and, though he had brushed up much of late on this subject, he found himself compelled to go slowly and thoughtfully. Arithmetic was not so hard; algebra a bit more puzzling.

It was after six o'clock when the examinations were finished, and all papers in. As fast as each examination was finished, however, the papers had been hurried off to the examiners and marked.

Faithful Tom was waiting as Dick came out in the throng.

"Congratulations, old fellow!" cried Reade, holding out his hand.

"You've passed," announced Tom gravely.

"Why, the examiners haven't fin——-"

"They don't have to," snorted Tom. "I don't have to wait for the opinions of mere examiners. You've passed, and won out, I tell you. Now let's go look for Dave."

It had been agreed that the three should meet, for supper, at the same restaurant where they had lunched. Darrin was not there yet. It was nearly seven o'clock when Dave came in, looking fagged and worried.

But Tom was up on his feet in an instant, darting toward Darrin.

"Didn't I tell you, old fellow?" demanded. Reade. "And my congratulations!"

"If you hadn't been such a good fellow all day I might be cross," sighed Dave. "Whee! But those examiners certainly did turn my head inside out. Don't you see a few corners of the brain still sloping over outside?"

"Cheer up," quoth Tom grimly. "Nothing doing. You haven't brains enough to overflow. In fact, you've so few brains that I'm going to do the ordering for your supper."

"Everything I can do, now, is over with, anyway," muttered Prescott. "So I'm going to forget my troubles and enjoy this meal."

Dave tried to, also, but he was more worried, and could not wholly banish his gloom.

Tom succeeded in making the meal drag along until about ten minutes of eight. Then he led his friends from the restaurant and down the street to the town hall.

Here, though most of the young men were already on hand, there was nothing of boisterousness. Some were quiet; others were glum. All showed how much the result of the examinations meant to them.

But the time dragged fearfully. It was twenty minutes of nine when Congressman Spokes appeared on the platform and rapped for order. He did not have to rap twice. In the stillness that followed the Congressman's voice sounded thunderous.

"Young gentlemen, I now have the results from all the examiners, and the averages have been made up. I am now able to announce my appointments to West Point and Annapolis."

Mr. Spokes paused an instant.

"For West Point," he announced, "My candidate will be——-Richard Prescott, of Gridley. The alternate will be——-"

But Dick Prescott didn't catch a syllable of the alternate's name, for his ears were buzzing. But now, for the first time, Tom Reade was most unsympathetically silent.

"For Annapolis, my candidate will be——-David Darrin, of Gridley. The alternate——-"

Neither did Darrin hear the name of his alternate. Dave's head was reeling. He was sure it was a dream.

"Pinch me, Tom," he begged, in a hoarse whisper, and Reade complied—-heartily.

"The young men who have won the appointments as candidates and alternates will please come to see me at once, in the anteroom," continued Congressman Spokes, who, however, lingered to address a few words of tactful sympathy to the eager young Americans who had tried and lost.

"Come along, now, and let's get this over with as quickly as possible," grumbled Torn Reade. "This Congressman bores me."

"Bores you?" repeated Prescott, in a shocked voice. "What on earth do you mean?"

"I don't like his nerve," asserted Reade. "Here he is, giving out as if it were fresh, news that I announced two hours ago."

Congressman Spokes was waiting in the anteroom to shake hands with the winners. He congratulated the candidates most heartily, and cautioned the alternates that they also must be alert, as one or both of them might yet have a chance to pass on over the heads of the principal candidates.

Mr. Spokes then asked from each of the young men the name of his school principal, the address of his clergyman and of one business man. These were references to whom Mr. Spokes would write at once in order to inform himself that the lucky ones were young men of excellent character.

Then the Congressman wished the young men all the luck in the world, and bade them good evening, after informing them that they would hear, presently, from the Secretary of War with full instructions for West Point, and from the Secretary of the Navy for Annapolis.

"Fancy Phin Drayne passing in his references for the character ordeal!" chuckled Tom Reade, as the three chums walked down the street.

"What time does the next train leave for Gridley?" suddenly demanded Dave.

"In twelve minutes," answered Tom, after looking at his watch.

"Let's run, then!" proposed Dave.

"We can mope, and have five minutes to spare," objected Reade.

"Let's run, just the same!" urged Dick Prescott.

The three chums broke into a run that brought them swiftly to the station, red faced, laughing and happy.

"Oh, what a difference since the morning!" sang Dick blithely. "Say, just think! West Point really for mine!"

"Bosh!" grunted Darrin happily. "I'm going to Annapolis!"

Then, as by a common impulse Dick and Dave seized Tom Reade by either hand.

"Tom," uttered Dick huskily, "we owe you for a lot of the nerve and confidence that carried us through to-day!"

"Tom Reade," declared Darrin. tremulously, "you're the best and most dependable fellow on earth!"

"Shut up, both of you," growled Reade, in a tone of disgust. "You're getting as prosy as that Congressman—-and that's the most insulting thing I can think of to say to either of you."

The train seemed fairly to fly home. It was keeping pace with the happy spirits of the young men, who, at last, came to realize that the great good news was actually true.

Neither Dick nor Dave could think of walking home from the station. They broke into a run. By and by they discovered that Tom Reade was, no longer with them.

"Now isn't that just like old Tom?" laughed Darrin, when he discovered that their friend was missing. "Well, anyway, I can't wait. Here's where our roads branch, Dick, old fellow. And say! Aren't we the lucky simpletons? Good night, old chum!"

Dick fairly raced into the bookstore conducted by his parents. He almost upset a customer who was leaving with a package under his arm.

"Dad!" whispered Dick, leaning briefly over the counter and laying a hand on Mr. Prescott's shoulder. "I passed and won! I'm going to West Point!"

A look of intense happiness wreathed his father's face and tears glistened in his eyes. But Dick raced on into the back room, where he found his mother.

"All the luck in the land is mine, mother!" he whispered, bending over and kissing her. "I won out! I go to West Point when the month of March comes!"

Mrs. Prescott was upon her feet, her arms around her boy. She didn't say much, but she didn't need to. After a moment Dick disengaged himself.

"Mother, Laura Bentley will be glad to know this news. She's at the ball of the senior class to-night, but I'll see if I can get her father on the 'phone, and tell him the news for her."

But presently it was Laura's own sweet voice that answered over the wire.

"You?" demanded Dick. "Why, I thought you'd be at the ball!"

"Did you think I could be happy all the evening, wondering how you were coming on with your great wish?" asked Laura quietly. "Say, oh, Dick! How did you come out?"



CHAPTER XXI

Gridley Seniors Whoop It Up

"Oh, so many, so many congratulations, Dick!" came the response to Prescott's eagerly imparted information.

"And so you missed the dance just because you could sympathize with some one else's worry?" demanded Dick. "But say! The evening is still young, as dances go. Couldn't you get dressed in a little while? Then we could both go and celebrate my good luck."

"I'm dressed," came the demure answer.

"What? Oh—-well, now, that's nice of you——-"

"I have been expecting this good news," laughed Laura. "And so I've been dressed all evening, on the chance."

"And you'll go to the class ball if I come around quickly?"

"It would be mean of you not to come and take me, Dick!"

"I'll have to change," declared Dick. "But that never takes a boy long. Won't I be around to your house in short order, though!"

Dick rang off and started to bound upstairs, but a new ting-ling sounded on the 'phone bell.

"Here's another party been trying to get you," announced central. "Go ahead."

"Hullo, Dick," sounded a low, pleased voice. "I hope you've called up Laura."

"Just rang off, Dave."

"Then you know that the girls didn't go to the class ball to-night, but just dressed and waited on the chance of hearing from us. I'm on the jump to dress, but I'll meet you there, Dick."

Dick took only time to explain the change in his night's plans to his parents. Then he bounded off upstairs, but soon came down again, looking a bit dandyish in his best, and very happy into the bargain.

When Dick arrived at Dr. Bentley's home an automobile stood in front of the house. Dick recognized it, however, as the doctor's machine with the doctor's man at the lever.

The instant that Prescott put his finger on the bell button Laura herself opened the door. She was radiant of face and exquisite in ball costume as she threw open the door and stood framed there, the light behind her.

"Oh, I'm so glad, Dick, so glad!" came her ready greeting. "Come in. I'm all ready but the wrap, but father and mother wish to be among the first to congratulate you."

In the doctor's office stood Dr. and Mrs. Bentley. They greeted Dick cordially and expressed delight over his success.

"But this is only the first ditch taken, you know," spoke Prescott soberly, though in military phrase. "I have my chance now; that is all. I have more than four years of hard fight facing me before I am sure that the Army can be my career."

"You'll make it, Prescott, just as you've made everything you've gone after at High School," replied Dr. Bentley heartily. "But, now that we've congratulated you, we mustn't keep you an instant longer from your classmates. I had just come in with my car, and Laura told me, so I directed my man to wait. He'll take you both along the road in short order. Good night, my boy!"

Laura brought her wrap, holding it out to Dick.

"If you're to be a gallant Army officer," she teased, "you must learn to do this sort of thing gracefully."

Blushing, Dick did his best. Then the young people went out. Dick helped his companion into the car, then seated himself beside her.

"We're going to pick up Dave and Belle," Laura explained, as the car moved swiftly away. "Then we'll all go in together."

One fellow had beaten them to the class ball, and that fellow was Tom Reade. How he ever did it no one will be able to guess, but Tom flew home, got into his best, and had reached the ball before these young people appeared on the scene.

The happy young candidates-elect went with their companions to the cloak room. Then, Laura on Dick's arm, and Belle clinging to Dave, the two couples entered the ballroom. The strains of a waltz were floating out. Abruptly the music ceased in the middle of the air, for Reade, standing beside the director, had motioned him to cease playing.

"Classmates and friends!" bellowed Reade, "it is my proud opportunity to-night to be able to be the first to announce to you some wonderful good news. To-day Dick Prescott, of ours, defeated all other competitors, and has secured the appointment from this district to the United States Military Academy!"

"Wow! Whoop!" That announcement had them all going. There was one tremendous, increasing din of noise. But Tom, jumping up and down, waving both arms and scowling fiercely, finally secured silence.

"Who's doing this announcing?" he demanded. "Who's master of ceremonies, if I am not. You just wait—-all of you! I'll give you the cue when to turn the noise-works loose. As I just stated, it's Dick for West Point, but or, and—-it's Dave Darrin for Annapolis at the same time. Yes, Dave is going to represent this district at Annapolis!"

The musicians were on their feet by this time. All with a rush the sweet, proud strains rang out:

"My country, 'tis of thee, Sweet land of liberty, Of thee I sing!"

Instantly all stood at attention, the young men all over the hail holding themselves with especial erectness. Not a voice was heard until the good old refrain was through. To the two happy chums "America" had a newer, stronger meaning. The spirited air came to them with a new meaning that had never been plain before.

Dick felt the tears in his eyes. Foolish, o course, but he couldn't help it! And choky Dave furtively wished that he dared reach for his handkerchief with all those hundreds of eyes turned on him.

As the music came to an end the High School boys filled their lungs for a mighty cheer. Quick as a flash, however, the leader of the orchestra tapped his baton, then swung it once more, and the instruments leaped on into:

"Columbia, the gem of the ocean!"

That was for the Navy, of course, and one didn't have to keep quiet, either. Words of the song, and cheers, mingled with the musicians' strains.

And then it wound up in a cheer and a mad rush of yelling that must have been heard for a mile.

An impromptu reception and hand shaking followed, but to Dick and Dave, and their partners, it had more the look of a mob.

It was a joyous and big-hearted mob, though, and in time it quieted down. After a very long interruption the dancing started again, and Dick and Dave were able to whirl away with their partners.

As the next dance after that, started there was a sudden halt by many of the couples, and soon a roar of laughter ascended. For the orchestra had chosen, as the air, "The Girl I Left Behind Me."

This air will always be associated with the United Service—-the Army and Navy. It is a rollicking, jolly, spirited old tune, as it needs must be for "The Girl I Left Behind Me" is the tune that is played when the country's defenders, in war time, are marching away for the front, after just having said the last goodbye to mother, sister and sweetheart.

Just now, however, the old air had none of the tragic connected with it. It was all in the spirit of fun. Laura, blushing furiously, and Belle striving to appear wholly unconscious, but striving too hard, lent all the more merriment to the moment.

"It's that confounded old idiot, Tom Reade," muttered Dave to his partner. "I wonder how many more such tricks he knows!"

Presently came "The Army Lancers," and that brought out a right royal good cheer. Two numbers after that, came "A Life on the Ocean Wave," and more cheers.

It was after three in the morning when the gay affair broke up. But who cared for that? Class balls come but once a year.

Right after "Home, Sweet Home," which wound up the ball, the orchestra added a number, "The Star Spangled Banner."

Both Dick and Dave reached home pretty thoroughly tired out, after having seen their girl friends home. Neither boy rose much before noon the day following.

Dick and Dave remained enrolled at High School until the Christmas Holidays, then dropped out, having ended the term.

Each boy had other studies with which he wished to busy himself—-studies that would have a direct bearing on the stiff entrance examinations at West Point and Annapolis. The rest of their time, until they reported at their respective National Academies, they intended to devote to these other studies to make doubly sure of their success.

Dick's notification from the Secretary of War arrived on Christmas morning.

"The grandest Christmas present. I ever had!" muttered Dick, gazing at the single sheet, the words on which were couched in stiff official language.

Dave Darrin fumed a good deal, for it was nearly a month later before he received his notification from the Secretary of the Navy. It came at last, however, and Darrin knew what postponed happiness means.



CHAPTER XXII

The Message from the Unknown

With the Christmas holidays Phin Drayne came home, to stay so far as school was concerned.

After his unhappy experience at the Fordham Military Institute, Phin had found things almost as unpleasant at Wilburville Academy.

For some reason the boys at Wilburville hadn't taken to him. Phin had come to the conclusion that he wasn't appreciated anywhere save at home, so back he came, disgusted with the idea of carrying his education any further.

As a natural sequence, Drayne took to lounging about the streets. High School boys and girls no longer paid any heed to him, so he did not fear slight or insult.

Two nights in every week Dick and Dave went faithfully to the High School gym. to help Mr. Morton with the new evening classes in training.

One afternoon Prescott and Darrin encountered good old Dr. Thornton, the principal, who asked them how they were coming along.

"We're pretty busy," Dick admitted. "Still, it does seem rather hard to us not to be connected with the High School any more."

"Why, you are with us yet, and of us!" cried the principal. "I carry your names on the rolls, with 'excused' written against your names. If you don't believe that you're still of my High School boys, then drop in any day and take your places, for an hour, or as long as you please, at your old desks. You will find them still reserved for you."

"Now, isn't that mighty decent of old Prin.!" demanded Dave, after the two chums had thanked Dr. Thornton, and had gone on their way. "So we still belong to old Gridley High School?"

"We always shall, I reckon," declared Dick. "Gridley High School has done everything for us, and has given us our start and most of our pleasures in life."

"I'm going to drop in, one of these January days," murmured Dave.

"And so am I. But," added Dick, with a smile, "don't let us be indiscreet and be roped into going into a recitation. We'll find the class has been moving ahead while we've been boning over West Point and Annapolis requirements."

"At all events, none of them ought to be ahead of us when we've gone four years further," contended Dave. "At West Point or Annapolis we have to grind in a way that is never required of mere college men. We ought to be miles ahead of any fellow who has just finished at High School and then has put in four years only at college."

Thus the happy young egotists always talked, nowadays. To them there was really little in life that did not come through the government military academies.

Phin Drayne, lounging about purposely, with the shambling gait, often saw these happy chums, and scowled after them.

"Everything seems to come to them!" growled Phin. "What rot it is to say that this is a square world, and that everyone has the same chance! Why doesn't something good come my way?"

The oftener Phin looked in the direction of the chums, and more particularly of Dick, the blacker did Drayne's thoughts become.

"Prescott has had everything come his way ever since he entered High School," growled Phin. "And now the mucker is going off to West Point, and the government is going to stamp him 'gentleman.' A gentleman? Pooh! I'd like to show him up, as a bumptious upstart. Phin scowled fiercely for a moment, before he added:

"And, by glory, I will do something to him! I'll take the conceit out of Dick Prescott!"

At first it was only the purpose that formed in Drayne's dark mind. But, by dint of much thinking, he began to feel that he saw the way of working to Prescott's complete disgrace.

Dick, in the meantime, was still writing occasionally for "The Blade."

"I'm afraid you've slipped away from us, Dick," declared Mr. Pollock, with a wry smile. "If you go to West Point and pass the exams. there, then newspaper work is going to lose one of its bright, promising young men."

"But I always told you that my plans would undoubtedly take me away from 'The Blade' when my High School life was done with," Prescott answered.

"Yes; but why do you want the life of the uniform? That's what I fail to understand? Why don't you go into something connected with the pulsing everyday life of the country? Here you are, going away to bury yourself in a uniform. You'll work, of course; the Army is no place for loafers. But after all, you're only preparing for war, and you may be an old, white-haired officer before we have another war."

"If that war does come in your life time," returned Dick, "you'll know what we of the uniforms have been working for all along. You'll realize, then, that an Army's biggest work isn't fighting, in time of war, but preparing in time of peace. And you'll thank every one of us when the time comes."

"Oh, yes, I suppose so," smiled the editor. "But it all seems so far away. Now, here is something much more practical right at hand. Take these burglaries that have been annoying the small merchants lately. The police don't seem to be able to catch the fellow. For the last three days I've taken Len Spencer off of all other work and set him to trying to run down the burglar. Now, Len isn't afraid of much, and he's one of the brightest young reporters going. Yet Len admits he's stumped. All the while the merchants are fearing that the burglar will bring about bigger losses. Dick Prescott, if you could catch that burglar, and see him sent off where he belongs, you'd be doing a vastly greater service to the community than you possibly could by helping the country prepare for a war that is thirty or forty years away."

"I wouldn't mind having a crack at the burglar scare, either," laughed Dick. "But the question is, how am I going to go about it to catch the fellow? He has baffled all the police, and even Len Spencer. What show have I for finding the rascal?"

"Just the same, Dick, I believe you would catch him, if you'd set your mind and your energies to it. Will you do it? Will you put in a week trying to run down this burglar and give 'The Blade' the first chance at the story? I'll agree, in advance, to pay you for whatever time you'll put in on it for a week, if even you are not successful in running him down."

"I'll think it over," Dick replied, with a quiet smile. "I'll talk it over with Dave."

"There's another mighty bright young fellow!" cried the editor. "Now, why can't you get Darrin to go into it with you? I'll pay Darrin for his time, too."

Dave, when the project was sprung on him, gave his hearty assent.

"It won't do any harm to have a try at it, anyway, Dick," urged Darrin. "It'll wake us up a bit, too. Not that I've any real and abiding idea that we're going to catch Mr. Burglar."

"If we're in earnest we're going to catch him," declared Prescott. "That's the old Gridley High School way, you know. What well start on we've got to put through."

Night after night, in that cold January week, Dick and Dave slipped out late at night, and prowled about through the business district of Gridley. Very often the chums ran across the police, but both were known well to the police, and were not challenged. Indeed, the police soon learned that Dick and Dave were employed by "The Blade" for the purpose of assisting in the efforts to capture the mysterious burglar or burglars.

In that week two more "breaks" happened, and each time the thief or thieves got away with valuable booty.

"You youngsters don't seem to be having any luck," remarked Editor Pollock. "But keep on the case a little longer. I know you'll land something sooner or later. Keep ahead, just as if you had to score a touchdown before the half was over."

So for two nights Dick and Dave kept out, with equally bad luck.

One night at eleven o'clock Dick answered the home telephone. He listened in amazement, then tried to find out who his informant was, but the latter rang off promptly.

"I believe that is straight," muttered Dick. "At all events, I'll look into this game for all it's worth. What if we are about to catch the thief red-handed?"

Snatching up a heavy walking stick, Dick Prescott hurriedly quitted the house.



CHAPTER XXIII

The Plight of the Innocent

If the information that had come over the wire from an unknown was correct there was not a moment to be lost in telephoning.

It was a masculine voice that had sounded in the 'phone and the message was to the effect that the sender of the message had just observed two men forcing the rear entrance of Kahn's drygoods store.

"And hearing that 'The Blade' is trying to catch the burglars I thought I'd just let you know," the voice had continued. "But I guess you'll have to be quick if you want a sight of the burglars. They'll probably get away in quick order."

Then had come the ring-off, just as Dick had tried to get the name of his informant.

Now Dick was sprinting toward the scene by the shortest route that he could think of.

Kahn's store was on Main Street, but the rear entrance, used for the receipt of goods opened in off an alleyway that ran parallel with Main Street.

"There can't be much time to spare," muttered Dick, looking hard for a policeman.

At this late hour of the night the streets that Dick traveled in his haste were bare of pedestrians.

"I wish I had had time to get Dave," though Prescott. "But that would have lost at least five minutes more. And Dave wasn't going to be ready to go out until he came around for me nearer midnight."

Dick was at the head of the alley, now, an moving cautiously, eyes wide open and ears on the alert.

How dark it was down in here! Dick wondered, a moment, at the keenness of vision that had enabled some neighbor to see what was going on over in this dark place.

In his pocket, at the time of receiving the message, Prescott had placed a pocket electric "search-light."

This he thought of, now, but he did not deem it wise to go flashing the light about unless he had to.

"The first point in my information is right, anyway," muttered Dick. "The rear door of Kahn's is open."

Moving in the shadow of the building, he had paused not far away from the door in question.

"There were two of the fellows, the message said," muttered Dick. "In that case, I should think one would have been left outside as a lookout. However, the lookout may be just a little way inside of the door. It won't do to use my light now. I'll see if I can slip in and get close to the lookout before the thieves know there's anyone around."

A step at a time Prescott softly reached the open door. He paused, listening intently.

"I don't hear a sound in there. I guess I'd better take a few very soft steps inside, and see if I can discover where the rogues are. That is, unless they have already bagged their booty, and have gotten away again."

Just inside of the open door, Dick halted again. He listened, but there was no sound.

"These scoundrels are surely the original mice for soft moving," muttered the boy grimly. "What part of the establishment can they be in? Hadn't I better slip out and get the police? I can't learn anything in here unless I use my light."

Yet Prescott didn't want to turn on that flare. The light was much more likely to show him up to the burglars than to enable him to find men who were not making a sound.

So Dick penetrated a little further, and a little further, listening. As he moved he was obliged to grope his way.

At last, however, he found himself confused as to the points of the compass. In this darkness, he was not even sure which was the way out.

"I'll have to use the flash now," concluded Dick.

Taking the long tube from one of his pockets, he pressed the button briefly, giving a flash that lasted barely a second.

"What was that?" muttered the boy, with a start, as the light went out.

Clearly enough, now, he heard stealthy steps. He was almost certain, too, that he distinguished the sound of low whispers.

"That flash has scared the rascals," throbbed Dick Prescott. "Now, if I can only locate 'em, and get out first! I may succeed in getting the police to the scene before both get away. One of 'em, anyway, I ought to be able to floor with this heavy cane!"

Transferring the light to his left hand, Dick took a strong grip of the cane. It did not eyed occur to him to be afraid in here. He was trying to trap the burglars as a piece of enterprise for "The Blade," and that was all he thought about.

Suddenly there was a more decided step in the darkness. It sounded, too, right in advance of the boy who stood there guessing in the dark.

"Halt, where you are!" shouted Dick. "And throw up your hands as high as you can, if you don't want to get drilled! Don't try to use your weapons, for I have the drop!"

It was sheer bluff, for the only thing with which Prescott could claim the drop was his cane.

Yet, in such circumstances, a bold front is half the battle.

Prescott bounded forward, boldly, at the same moment turning on his light.

The next moment, though he held the light, the cane dropped from his nerveless fingers.

"We've got you, Prescott!" roared a voice. "And you? Of all the thundering big surprises. But we've got you! Stop all nonsense and get in line to come along with us."

It was the chief of police, backed by three of his men, whom Dick now faced. They had thrown their lights on, too, so that there was now plenty of illumination.

Nor was this Chief Coy, one of Dick's old time friends, but Chief Simmons, a new man appointed only a few months before.

Chief Simmons was almost frantically anxious to catch the burglar or burglars, for their continued operations reflected upon his abilities as the new police chief.

All in a flash young Prescott took in the horrifying idea that Chief Simmons believed him to be the real burglar.

"But I——-" began Dick chokingly.

"Yes, you will!" retorted Chief Simmons. "You can't put up any fight, and you can't make any denial."

"I——-"

"Take him, you men, and handcuff him." roared the chief. "Then we'll go through the rest of the store, and see what we can learn."

Dick drew back, with a shudder, as two of the officers came toward him, intent on carrying out their chief's order.

"You'd better submit, Prescott," warned the chief sternly. "We're not in a mood to stand any fooling."

"But won't you listen——-" began Dick, gasping.

"I'm not the trial judge," jeered Simmons. "Still, I'll listen to you all you want, later in the night. Now, stand forward!"

Dick realized the folly and the uselessness of defying the police. He moved nearer to the chief, as ordered. And Prescott began to understand how black the whole affair looked for him.

But how had it happened?

He would have given worlds to know.

"Hold your hands forward, and together," commanded Chief Simmons.

Quivering, flushing with the shame of the thing, young Prescott obeyed. The officer who fitted the handcuffs to the boy's wrists felt ashamed of his work, for he had always been one of Dick's friends.

The click of the steel ratchets brought Prescott back to a realization of things.

"I'm not much of a catch, chief," muttered the boy. "You'd better not be content with me alone. Leave me under watch and then the rest of you had better spread through this place. I think there are others here—-the men you seek."

"You've confederates here, have you?" demanded Simmons, fixing his suspicious gaze on the boy. "Judkins, you watch Prescott—-and mind you don't let him give you the slip. The rest of us will keep on going through this store. You say you think there are others here, Prescott?"

"I think so," replied the boy.

Chief Simmons raised his voice.

"If there's anyone here——-" he called.

"There is!" came back in a tone that made Dick Prescott start and throb with alarm.

"Who—-where—-" asked Chief Simmons, excitedly.

"Right here!" came the voice. "Hold your lights on me!"

Two flash-lights at once centered their rays on the speaker, and Dave Darrin bounded forward into the light.

"So you two have been working this thing as side partners, have you?" asked Chief Simmons harshly. "Great Scott, how you've fooled us, then! Like everyone else, we believed you two boys to be straight. Tell me," commanded Simmons dryly, "is Editor Pollock in this store-robbing gang, too?"

"Ask Mr. Pollock yourself," Dave flung back.

"I will, when I get time," retorted Simmons. "Grab Darrin and put the irons on his wrists, too!"



CHAPTER XXIV

Dave Gives Points to the Chief of Police

"You clumsy bungler!" spoke Dave Darrin hotly. "Chief, I demand the right to speak to you for a moment."

"After you're ironed and taken to the station house," snapped Mr. Simmons.

"Chief, you're not afraid to step aside with me and listen to about ten words?" demanded Darrin scornfully. "And if you don't—-if you go on in your bull-headed way—-you'll be the scorn of the town by morning. Why don't you hear what I've got to say, instead of letting precious seconds slip by. Come! Over this way!"

There was something so commanding in Darrin's voice and manner that Simmons concluded to listen for a moment.

Keeping his flash-light turned on Darrin, the chief of police followed Dave. Darrin whispered something in the big man's ear. In another moment the two were whispering together animatedly.

"Why didn't you come to the point before, Darrin?" demanded the chief gruffly.

"Great Scott, didn't I, as soon as I could postpone your mania for having me loaded down with police chains?"

"Yet how do I know you're telling me anything like the truth?"

"If I'm lying, you can find it out very quickly, can't you?" demanded Darrin. "But come along, or you'll be too late. Oh, why do all the biggest slow pokes in creation get appointed to the police force?"

"Come along with me, Delmar," ordered Chief Simmons, turning to one of his policemen. "The rest of you stay here—-though you can pass on into the open air. Then wait there for us."

"Don't you waste any time on worry, Dick," Dave called back.

Prescott laughed easily. Whatever Dave had discovered, or thought he had, Darrin's chum was quite content now to await the result of all that enthusiasm.

"We must not make much noise," cautioned Darrin, as he led the way swiftly, though on tiptoe. "We don't want to scare the other people cold until we have them cooped so that they can't get away. But you'd better be ready, in case they're desperate enough to try shooting!"

Up the street, to the head of another alley way, Darrin led the swift chase.

"Now, softer than ever," he whispered, over his shoulder, without halting.

A moment later Dave halted before two stone steps that led down to a basement junk shop.

Just as he did so a low voice inside could be heard, saying in barely audible tones:

"I'm so anxious to know whether Prescott fell into the trap that I can hardly wait another minute."

"You'd better wait until morning, or you'll tumble into something with your eyes shut, and that will mean both of us nabbed," growled another voice.

"Do you think they found Prescott—-that they believed in the appearances against him?"

"I can't say," came the other low voice. "And I can wait. I'm not crazy on the subject, as you seem to be."

"Explain this all over again, to us, won't you?" shouted the chief, pushing open the door of the junk shop and striding in, backed by the light and the revolver of Officer Delmar.

"What?" screamed Phin Drayne, then sank to his knees in the extremity of his terror.

"Don't either of you try to put up any fight," warned the chief. "Delmar, here are my handcuffs to put with your own. Hand me your light, and then iron both of these fellows securely."

The owner of the junk shop, a man under thirty, dirty and low browed, stood cowering back against a bench. The fellow looked as though he would have fought had there been any chance to draw a weapon. But he was gazing straight into the muzzle of the police chief's weapon.

An instant later both prisoners had been handcuffed, and a pistol had been taken from the clothing of each. From the junkman, too, had been taken a ring of keys.

"One of these fit your door?" demanded Simmons.

"Yes," growled the scowling one. "The long key."

"Bring the prisoners along, Delmar," ordered the chief. "I'll lock up here. We'll come back later for a search."

Out on the sidewalk Phin Drayne plucked up courage enough to find his voice.

"For goodness' sake, let me go, Chief," he begged, falteringly. "I haven't done anything, although things look against me."

"I guess we'll be able to put things enough against you," retorted the police official mockingly.

"Think of my mother!" pleaded the wild boy. "Think of our family—-one of the most respectable in town. Think of——-"

"Oh, you're enough to make one tired," broke in Dave Darrin, in deep disgust. "You thought of Dick Prescott when you put up the job to have him arrested as a burglar, didn't you?"

"Why, what do you mean? I didn't do anything to Dick Prescott," shouted Drayne angrily, or affecting to be angry.

"Tell that to the marines," quoth Darrin contemptuously. "It was through following on your trail, Drayne, that I discovered the whole trick, and also knew just where to take the police to find you."

An hour later Chief Simmons was well satisfied that he had laid the burglar scare in Gridley.

Not that the new chief had had so very much to do with the result, either.

The first move had been to get back to the Kahn store, where Dick Prescott was promptly freed, with the chief's hearty apologies.

Over at the police station, by separating Drayne from his accomplice, Bill Stevens, the junkman, and questioning each separately, the whole story had come out, chiefly through frenzied confessions.

Phin Drayne, loafing about town, and with his pocket money nearly cut off by his father, had formed the acquaintance of Stevens, who, besides being a junkman, was a very fair locksmith, though about the latter trade he had never bragged publicly.

Drayne had been ripe for any move that would place him in more funds. So, first of all, he and Stevens had entered the commercial establishment of Drayne, senior. There, thanks to Phin's knowledge of the premises, they had made a very good-sized "haul."

After that the pair had operated together frequently. Stevens' junk shop had offered a handy pace in which to hide the plunder.

Then, as time went on, and Phin heard, by chance, that Dick and Dave were trying to catch the burglars in behalf of "The Blade,", a plan had occurred to Phin by which he might ruin Dick utterly in the eyes of the community.

The whole plan had been carefully laid by Stevens and young Drayne.

On this night, just after Conklin's drug store had been closed for the night, Stevens had slipped in a key that had opened a side door for him. Then the door was left closed but unlocked. At that hour of the night no one was likely to notice anyone who went in or out at the side door. And Conklin's was equipped with a public telephone.

Then down to the alleyway had stolen the evil pair. Kahn's rear door had been opened with false keys and left ajar. Then Phin Drayne stole back to the junk shop, while Stevens, whose voice could not be recognized over the wire by Dick, sent the message.

Next, back to where he could watch the alleyway, hurried Stevens, and hid. Stevens saw Dick Prescott slip into the alleyway, then go inside the store. That was enough for Stevens, who had slipped back and into the drug store once more, getting the police station on the wire and 'phoning to the chief that Gridley's burglars had just entered Kahn's through the rear door.

Only a block and a half from Kahn's was the police station. Almost immediately the officers were on the spot, stalking—-Dick Prescott.

But, at the time when Dick left his own home and went down the street so hurriedly Dave Darrin had been sauntering along, to call his chum out on their nightly quest for "The Blade." Seeing Dick move so swiftly, Darrin concluded that something most unusual was about to happen. So Dave trailed swiftly in the rear.

Thus it was that Darrin drew back just in time to see Bill Stevens slipping away from a hiding place at the head of that alleyway.

"That does for Prescott," chuckled Stevens, half aloud.

"Oh, it does, does it?" silently murmured alert Dave, and now he intently followed Stevens to the drug store, and thence back to the junk shop. Dave's next swift move was to rush back to Kahn's with the result already known.

"Well, did you think the folks of Gridley would continue to believe such a charge against young Prescott?" demanded Chief Simmons of the sneak.

"I knew some wouldn't, but I thought the whole affair would make such a row that Prescott would never be quite able to hold up his head in Gridley again," declared Drayne huskily. "But I thought that it would stop his thinking of going to West Point, anyway."

"Instead of which," muttered Simmons dryly, "you'll get four years—-or more, Drayne at some place that won't be West Point."

"Oh, my father won't quite stand for that," returned Phin, a bit more loftily. "He has money and some family pride."

"Money doesn't help much for confessed burglars," rejoined Chief Simmons.

At that moment Heathcote Drayne, who had been roused out of bed by a policeman, came in, so white faced that Dick and Dave felt sorry indeed for the unhappy parent.

But Dick didn't remain to see the meeting between father and son. Prescott and his chum hastened around to "The Blade" office. Gladly enough would both boys have kept Phin's disgrace from going before the public, but it was too big a story, locally, and was bound to come out. So Dick wrote a straight account, after which he and Dave hurried home to get the fag end of a night's rest.

Gridley merchants lost but little, in the end, through the series of burglaries. Most of the plunder was recovered at the junk shop.

Bill Stevens was sent to prison for a term of eight years. Phin, being only seventeen, was allowed to plead his youth. In his case justice was satisfied with his commitment to a reform school until he should be twenty-one years of age.

And so ended the story of the mysterious burglaries.



CHAPTER XXV

Conclusion

One evening about a week after these events Dick and Dave were sitting in the former's room chatting, when Greg Holmes and Dan Dalzell, apparently in great good humor, broke in upon them.

"When do you go to West Point, Dick?" queried Greg.

"I'm ordered to report to the adjutant there on the first of March," Prescott replied.

"Mind my running up there with you?" demanded Greg.

"Why, I'd be tickled to pieces, if you can afford the trip, Greg."

"Oh, I guess I can," laughed the other boy. "Dad is going to pay my freight bill."

"See here, you fellows, you can't have been reading the newspapers much, since you two were appointed," broke in Dan Dalzell.

"What have we missed?" challenged Dave.

"Why, didn't you know a thing about Senator Frayne and his appointments?" went on Dan Dalzell. "The Senator doesn't appoint from a single district. He appoints at large from the whole state. Senator Frayne announced, a while ago, two appointments-at-large, one for West Point, the other for Annapolis."

"And we went up to the state capital yesterday," rattled on Greg. "We went through the examinations. The winners weren't named until this morning. You'll find it in the evening papers, later to-day. I go to West Point, and Dan goes to Annapolis."

"What?" yelled Dick, leaping as high as he could jump.

"Tell it to us again!" begged Darrin huskily.

"Oh, it's all a fact, straight and right enough," Greg assured them happily.

Then and there the four chums executed a war dance. It seemed too wonderful to believe.

"But isn't Gridley the whole show?" demanded Dave presently. "Four cadetships in the same year to one little city!"

"Well, we had to win 'em from other comers," retorted Greg. "And none of us are out of the woods yet. We've got to pass at West Point and at Annapolis.

"This is great!" quivered young Prescott. "But wouldn't it be grand if only Tom Reade and Harry Hazelton had gotten in line, too, and gone along into the service with us? Then all of the old Dick & Co. would have been enrolled under the battle flag."

"But you know what Tom told us," put in Darrin. "He said he wouldn't live at West Point, and he wouldn't be caught dead at Annapolis. Tom is all for becoming a great civil engineer—-a builder of railroads and all that sort of thing."

"Well, Harry Hazelton is just as bad," said Greg. "He's all for doing engineer stunts in the wilderness, too."

"Here they come now," announced Dan Dalzell.

Tom and Harry were heartily glad, of course, to hear of the luck that had befallen Greg and Dan.

"We were just wishing that you two had fallen into the same kind of luck, and that you were going into uniform with us," declared Dick.

Reade glared at Prescott.

"Humph!" muttered Tom. "I thought you were a friend of mine!"

"I judge it's a mighty good thing we don't all hunger for the same careers," laughed Harry. "For instance, all young fellows can't go into the United Service. There aren't jobs enough to go around. The United States Army is just about big enough to find with a good magnifying glass. As for the Navy——-"

"Be careful," warned Darrin touchily.

"As for the Navy," continued Hazelton, "Congress has a lot of officers trained and then seems to think that one new battleship every other year or so ought to keep the country patient."

"You fellows are going to be downright happy, I know," resumed Tom. "But so are Harry and I. We finish out our High School work, and then our chance is ahead of us."

"To find?" queried Dave.

"No, sir! We've got it," retorted Tom. "It came to us only recently, and Harry and I have been keeping a bit quiet, but now it is time to tell the news—-just in the circle of Dick & Co."

By dint of great hustling, and backed by recommendations from the local civil engineer, Reade and Hazelton had secured a chance, beginning in the coming July, to join as rodmen the engineering party that was laying a new railroad over the Rockies, in Colorado.

Just before the first of March, Dick Prescott and Greg Holmes slipped quietly away, and reported at West Point.

But what further happened to Dick and Greg—-and there was a lot of it—-must be reserved for the volumes of the new West Point series.

The first volume will appear under the title, "Dick Prescott's First Year at West Point; Or, Two Chums in the Cadet Gray."

Later on Dave Darrin and Dan Dalzell left Gridley and home for Annapolis. Their adventures will be followed up in the new Annapolis series.

The first volume in this series will be entitled: "Dave Darrin's First Year at Annapolis; Or, Two Plebes at the Naval Academy."

Nor did Tom Reade and Harry Hazelton fail of some very extraordinary adventures in their chosen career of engineering. Their career led them into some of the wild spots of the earth. It will all be told in the Young Engineer series.

The first volume in this series will appear shortly under the caption: "The Young Engineers in Colorado; Or, at Railroad Building in Earnest."

How about the other Gridley folks whose acquaintance has been so enjoyable? Fred Ripley? Well, as to Fred—-when we first made his acquaintance, he was anything but an agreeable fellow, but he learned his lesson in time, and, under the wholesome influence of Dick & Co., but especially of Dick Prescott himself, Fred had become a different boy. Such is the effect of good example.

As to the rest, many of them are bound to appear again, as we follow the fortunes of our Gridley boys through the tales of West Point, the annals of Annapolis and the doings of the Young Engineer Boys.

So here we will leave them all for the moment, soon to renew the acquaintance of all who had any future share in the lives or thoughts of the six splendid young Americans who were once known to their classmates as Dick & Co.

THE END