of his selected
mount.

"Prepare to mount!"

Each cadet seized mane and bridle, also thrusting his left foot
into stirrup box.

"Mount!"

Like so many figures operated by machinery, the first classmen rose,
throwing right legs over saddles, then settling down in the seat.
Then, all in a twinkling, the ranks reformed.

"Mr. Prescott, take command of the squadron, sir!" rang the
instructor's voice.

Dick thrilled with pleasure as he received the command with a salute.
He had not looked, but he knew that those dearest to him were in
the crowd beyond, looking on.

"Draw sabre!" sounded Dick's not loud but clean-cut order.

Greg and Anstey repeated the order in turn. Instantly all down
the strong line naked steel leaped forth. The sabres sprang to
the "carry," and the superb picture breathed of military might.

Cadet Captain Dick Prescott, well in advance, sat facing his squadron;
he throbbed with a soldier's ardor at the beauty of the scene.

"Fours right!" he shouted.

"Fours right! Fours right!" sounded in the differing tones of
Greg and Anstey.

"March!"

"March! March!"

Into a long column of fours, to the tune of jingling accoutrements,
the squadron swung. Prescott wheeled about and rode forward at a
walk. In the same instant, the bugler, a musician belonging to the
Regular Army, trotted forward, then slowed down to a walk close to
the young squadron commander. From that time on, all the commands
were to be given by the bugle.

"Trot! March!" traveled on clear, musical notes, and the long
line of young horsemen moved forward at a faster gait. There
was none of the bumping up and down in saddle that disfigures
the riding taught in most riding schools. These gray-clad young
centaurs rode as though parts of their animals.

Straight past the canvas shelter that had been erected for the
superintendent, the Board of Visitors and their ladies, swung
the four platoons in magnificent order and rhythm.

Then, on the return, the young cavalrymen swept, at a gallop,
by platoons, in echelon and by column of squads. This done, the
cadets rode forward, baiting in line before the reviewers. Here
the senior cavalry instructor rode in front and gave the command:

"Present---sabres!"

The salute to the superintendent and his guests was given with
magnificent precision.

"Continue the drill, Mr. Prescott!" rang the senior instructor's
voice.

Once more the line of gray and steel swept over the