e heat as
he stepped just outside the ballroom.

Furlong came after him, looking at him quizzically.

"We staggers have a hard time of it, eh, Dodge?" grinned Mr. Furlong.

"Are you referring to the two femmes I was just billing?" shot
out Dodge impetuously. "Oh, they're very inconsequential girls!"

Mr. Furlong drew himself up very straight, his eyes flashing fire.

"You dog!" he exclaimed, in utter disgust.

Yearling Dodge turned ghastly white.

"You---you didn't understand me. Let me explain," he urged.

"You can't explain a remark like yours," muttered Mr. Furlong
over his shoulder, as he turned his back on Bert.

To be called a "dog" has but one sequence in cadet world. Bert
Dodge had to send his seconds to Mr. Furlong before taps. Though
they must have loathed their task, had they known the whole story,
the seconds made arrangements with Mr. Furlong's representatives.

Before reveille the next morning Bert Dodge stood up for nearly
two rounds before the sledgehammer fists of Mr. Furlong.

When it was over, Dodge sought cadet hospital, remaining there
until Monday morning, and returning to camp looking somewhat the
worse for wear.

Along with truth, honor and courtesy, tenderest chivalry toward
woman is one of the fairest flowers of the West Point teaching.

Fellows like yearling Dodge cannot be taught. They can only
be insulted to the fighting point, and then pummelled. Cadet
Furlong went to considerable inconvenience, though uncomplainingly,
for two young women whom he had not the pleasure of knowing.

CHAPTER IX

SPOONY FEMME---FLIRTATION WALK

"So this is Flirtation Walk?" asked Belle Meade.

The four young people---Anstey was one of them---had just turned
into the famous path, which begins not far to the eastward of
the hotel. It was between one and two o'clock on Sunday afternoon.

"This is Flirtation Walk," replied Mr. Anstey.

"But is one compelled to flirt, on this stroll?" asked Belle, with a
comical pout.

"By no means," Anstey hastened to assure her. "Yet the surroundings
often bring out all there may be of slumbering inclination to
flirt."

"Where did the walk ever get such a name?" pursued Belle.

"Really, you have to see the first half of it before you can quite
comprehend," the Virginian told her.

"I suppose you have been over this way times innumerable?" teased
Miss Meade.

"Hardly," replied Anstey seriously. "I have been a yearling only
a few days.