m off.
"Now, let me listen to your heart," directed the senior medical
officer, picking up a stethoscope from his desk. The heart beat and
sounds were examined from several points.
"Come here, Mr. Prescott," directed Captain Goodwin, opening
another door and revealing a flight of stairs. "Run up these stairs
and back, as fast as you can."
As Dick halted, after that feat, his heart action was again
examined, this time by both surgeons. After that his lungs were
examined. Then he was directed to lie on a table, while the areas
over his other organs were thumped and listened to. Then the
candidate was examined for deformities. He was ordered to march
around the room, to run, to jump over a low stool, and perform
other antics.
Then the two surgeons conferred briefly at the desk.
"You'll do, Mr. Prescott," announced Captain Goodwin.
"Thank you, sir," stammered Dick, the flush of happiness coming to
his cheeks.
"You've taken part in school athletics, haven't you?" asked
Lieutenant Herman.
"Yes, sir; captain of our football team last fall."
"You look it," nodded Lieutenant Herman pleasantly. "Take your
blanket, Mr. Prescott. Orderly, call the next man."
As Dick strode back where he had left the others he heard the
orderly call:
"Mr. Holmes."
"Go to it, old man. There's nothing to be afraid of," whispered
Dick Prescott.
"They got through with you in mighty quick time," smiled one of
the other candidates.
"Did they?" laughed Prescott. "It seemed to me as though the
surgeons started yesterday and finished to-morrow."
Mr. Geroldstone had finished dressing and sat by, a sulky look on
his face. He wanted to go back to cadet store, get his money and
leave West Point instantly. But the orderly had told him he would
have to wait until a report had been made out to the adjutant.
To Dick the minutes dragged until Greg Holmes appeared again.
Truth to tell, Greg was much afraid that he had a slight trouble
with his heart, and that this difficulty would hinder his passing.
Dick, who was aware of his chum's dread, was anxious for
Holmes. As soon as he had finished dressing he found himself
pacing the floor.
It was quite a while ere Greg came out, but his quiet, happy smile
told the story.
"Did they ask you questions about your heart?" asked Prescott in
an undertone.
"Yes," admitted Greg, while he dropped his blanket and began
hastily pulling on his clothes.
"You told the truth, didn't you?"
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