hand, stood waiting in the corridor.
It is a rule that a cadet must enter no part of the hotel
except the parlor. He must see his friends either there, or on
the veranda. There is a story told that a general officer's wife
visited West Point, for the first time, to see her son, a new
cadet at West Point. The plebe son called---with permission---sent
up his card, and was summoned to his mother's room. He went.
A few minutes later there was a knock at the door. The clerk
stood there, apologetic but firm.

"I am very sorry, madam, but the regulations provide that your
son can visit you only in the parlor."

"But I am the wife of Major General Blank!" exclaimed the surprised
lady.

"But, Mrs. Blank, your son is a cadet, and subject to the regulations
on the subject. He must either go to the parlor at once, or leave
the hotel instantly. If he refuses to do either I am forced to
telephone to the tactical officer in charge."

The general's wife was therefore obliged to descend to the parlor
with her plebe son.

No other room but the parlor! This prohibition extends even to
the dining room. The cadet may not, under any circumstances,
accept an invitation from a friend or relative to take a sociable
meal with either.

"Tyrannous" and "needlessly oppressive," are terms frequently
applied by outsiders to the rules that hedge in cadets, but there
is a good reason behind every regulation.

Two or three minutes later a middle-aged woman came slowly down
the staircase, gazing about her. At last her glance settled,
with some bewilderment on Dick and Greg, who were the only two
cadets in the corridor.

"Why, I believe you must be Mr. Prescott and Mr. Holmes!" exclaimed
Mrs. Bentley, moving forward and holding out both hands. "Yes;
I am certain of it," she added, as Dick and Greg, bowing gracefully
from the waistline, smiled goodhumoredly. "Mercy! But how you
boys have grown! I am not sure that it is even proper to call you
boys any longer."

"If we were boys any longer, Mrs. Bentley, I am sure you would
be in doubt," laughed Dick easily. "Yes; you see, cadets, under
their training here, usually do shoot up in the air. We have
some short, runty cadets, however."

Just then there was a flutter and a swish on the stairs. Laura
Bentley and Belle Meade came gliding forward, their eyes shining.

"Yes; I know you both and could tell you apart," cried Laura,
laughing, as she held out her hand. "But what a tre