ster.

"He's quite agreeable," replied Adele Griffin. "Very soldierly, if
I am any judge. I wonder how he will look in a second lieutenant's
uniform?"

As our three bunkies prepared for bed that night Prescott remarked:

"Tomorrow, Greg, we'll see the folks from home! I hope you'll
do nothing, though, to make Dave Darrin dislike you."

"I won't," promised Greg solemnly. Then: "Oh, great---Jove!
I've-----"

"Well?" demanded Dick. "What have you done?

"I've asked another femme to accept my drag to-morrow night!

"Miss Griffin?"

"Yes!"

"Anstey," continued Dick, turning quickly to hide a frown, "I shall
have to draft you!"

"I was bo'n and reared a gentleman, suh!" replied the Virginian,
with cordial gravity.

CHAPTER VII

THE FOLKS FROM HOME

Two tall, superbly erect young men, showing the soldier in every
line of bearing, stepped jauntily along the road leading to the
hotel just before five o'clock.

Each wore the fatigue cap of the cadet, the trim gray, black-trimmed
blouse of the cadet uniform. Their white duck trousers were the
spooniest as to spotlessness and crease.

Dick and Greg went straight to the hotel office.

"The register, please," asked Prescott, for the clerk's back was
turned over some work that he was doing.

This was not a request for the hotel register but for the cadet
register. Understanding, the clerk turned and passed a small
book known as the cadet register. He opened it to the page for
the day, while Prescott was reaching for a pen.

In this register both young men inscribed their names. Each had
secured permission from the O.C. to visit the hotel. At the close
of every day, a transcript of the day's signatures by cadets is
taken, and this transcript goes to the O.C. The clerk will send no
cards for cadets who have not first registered. The transcript of
registry, which goes to the O.C., enables the latter to make sure
that no cadets have visited the hotel without permission.

Prescott laid down his visiting card. Holmes laid another beside it.

"Are Mrs. Bentley, Miss Bentley and Miss Meade here?" queried Dick.

After consulting the hotel register the clerk nodded.

"Our cards to Mrs. Bentley, please."

"Front! Fifty-seven!" called the clerk to a bellboy.

"Thank you," acknowledged Prescott.

"Wheeling, the young men turned from the office, striding down
the hotel veranda side by side. They turned in at the ladies'
entrance, then, caps in