ou will form your detachment and march back to
camp."

"Very good, sir."

Always that same salute with which a man in the Army receives
an order.

Some thirty seconds later, the detachment was formed and Dick
was marching it back up the inclined road on the way to the summer
encampment. By that time, a sergeant and a squad of Engineer
privates---soldiers of the Regular Army---were busy taking care
of the pontoon boats and other bridge material.

Marching his men inside the encampment, Dick halted them.

"Detachment dismissed!" he called out.

There was a quick break for first and third class tents. These
young men were in field uniforms---sombreros, gray flannel shirts,
flannel trousers and leggings. Most of them were dripping with
perspiration under the hot August sun.

They were all hot and dusty, and their hands stained with tar.
Within a very few minutes every man in the detachment must be
washed irreproachably clean, without sign of perspiration. They
must be in uniforms of immaculate white duck trousers and gray
fatigue blouses, wearing cleanly polished shoes, and ready to
march to dinner.

A great deal to be accomplished in a few minutes by the average
American boy! Yet let one of these cadets be late at dinner formation,
without an unquestionably good excuse, and he must pay the penalty
in demerits. These demerits, according to their number, bring
loss of prized privileges.

Cadet Jordan, having done little, was among the first to be clean
and presentable. Immaculate, trim and trig he looked as he stepped
from his tent, but on his face lay a scowl that boded ill for his
appetite at the coming dinner.

Dick was a master of swift toilets. He was on the company street
almost immediately after Jordan had stepped out under the shadow
of a tree.

"Prescott," began Jordan stiffly, "I want a word or two with you."

"Yes?" asked Dick, looking keenly at his classmate. "Very good."

"Why did you report me this morning?"

"Because you performed the work in an indolent, laggard manner,
even after I had cautioned you."

"Do you consider yourself called upon to be a judge of your
classmates?"

"When I am detailed in command over them in any duty---yes."

"Shall I tell you what I think of you for reporting me?"

"It would be in bad taste, at least," Dick answered. "It is against
the regulations for a cadet to call another to account for reporting
him officially."

"Oh, bother the regulation