ted to report at the office of the commandant
of cadets."

This order was borne by a soldier orderly immediately after breakfast
on the day before graduation.

"Mr. Prescott," said the commandant, when the tall, soldierly looking
cadet knocked, entered and saluted, "you will take command at the
cavalry squadron drill, which takes place at three this afternoon."

Dick's heart bounded with pleasure. It was an honor that could
come to but one man in the first class, and he was greatly delighted
that it should have fallen to him.

"Mr. Holmes will command the first troop, and Mr. Anstey the second,"
continued the commandant of cadets, who then rattled off the names
of the cadets who would act as subalterns in the squadron.

It was a splendid detail, that of commanding the squadron in the
cavalry drill---splendid because it is one of the most picturesque
events of the week, and also because it calls for judgment and high
ability to command.

"I must be sure to get word to mother; she mustn't miss a sight
that will delight her so greatly," murmured Dick, as he hastened
away to notify Greg and Anstey.

This done, he hastened off to other duties, though not without
yielding much thought to the belief that Laura Bentley would be
here this afternoon, since she was pledged to go with him to the
graduation ball in the evening.

"Mother can be sure to see Laura, and they can see the squadron
drill together," ran through Prescott's mind.

A splendid, swift bit of pontoon bridge building had been shown
the visitors on the day before; one battalion had given a lively
glimpse of tent pitching in perfect alignment as to company streets,
and in record time.

In the forenoon, there was to be a lively battery drill, to be
followed by a dizzying demonstration of the speed at which machine
guns may be moved, placed in position and fired so fast that there
is a hail of projectiles.

For this afternoon, the cavalry drill in squadron, and after that,
infantry drill that would include a picture of infantry on the
firing line. After that, the last dress parade in which the present
first classmen would ever take part as cadets.

Oh, it was a stirring picture, full of all the dash, the precision
and glamour of the soldier's life! The pity of it all was that
every red-blooded American boy could not be there to see it all.

Just before three o'clock every man of the first class turned out
through the north sallyport in the full eq