. To be more exact, the young
men had been digging military trenches---yes---digging them, for
at West Point hard labor is not beneath the cadet's dignity.

Just as they swung off the road past the officers' quarters the
young men, marching in route step, fell quickly into step at the
command of the cadet officer at the head of the line.

Now they marched along at no greater speed, but with better swing
and rhythm. They were, in fact, perfect soldiers---the best to
be found on earth.

Past the hotel they moved, and out along the road that leads by
the summer encampment. The brisk command of "halt" rang out.
Immediately afterwards the command was dismissed. Carrying their
rifles at ease, the young men stepped briskly through different
company streets to their tents.

Three of these brought up together at one of the tents.

"Home, Sweet Home," hummed Greg Holmes, as he stepped into his
tent.

"Thank goodness for the luxury of a little rest," muttered Dick
Prescott.

"Rest?" repeated Tom Anstey, with a look of amazement. "What
time have you, now, for a rest?"

"I can spare the time to stretch and yawn," laughed Dick. "If
I am capable of swift work, after that, I may indulge in two yawns."

"Look out, or you'll get skinned for being late at dinner formation,"
warned Greg.

There was, in truth, no time for fooling. These cadets, and their
comrades, had reached camp just on the dot of time. But now they
had precious few minutes in which to cleanse themselves, brush
their hair and get into white duck trousers and gray fatigue blouses.
The call for dinner formation would sound at the appointed instant
and they must be ready.

Sound it did, in short time, but it caught no one napping.

Nearly everyone of the young men in camp had just returned from
a forenoon's work, and hot and dusty at that.

But now, as the call sounded, every member of three classes stepped
from his tent looking as though he had just stepped from an hour
spent in the hands of a valet.

Not one showed the least flaw in personal neatness. Moreover,
the tents which these cadets had just quitted were in absolute
order and wholly clean. At West Point no excuse whatever is accepted
for untidiness of person or quarters.

With military snap and briskness the battalion was formed. Then
at brisk command, the battalion turned to the left in column of
fours, marching down the hot, sun-blazed road to cadet mess.

Despite the heat and the