in the academic work to bother
you," promised Anstey. "You'll have lots of chance to pull through
in the general review."

"It's only the physical side of the case that gives me any uneasiness,"
replied Dick. "And I'm not worrying about that, either."

"I should say not, suh!" replied the Virginian with emphasis.
"I had a chance to talk with Captain Goodwin, one day, without
being too fresh, and he told me, old ramrod, that your work in
athletics did a lot to save your back from faring worse. He said
you were built with unusual strength in the back, and that many
a hard tug in the football scrimmages had made you strong where
you most need to be strong now."

"Now let's get back to work with our old ramrod, Anstey," cautioned
Greg.

"Surely, suh, with all my heart," nodded Anstey. "But by day
after to-morrow he'll have caught up with us, and be coaching
us along for the general review."

The hard work that Dick had done through March and in early April
now stood him in excellent stead. He had, really, only to make
sure of the work that he had missed while at hospital. As to
reviewing the earlier work of the second term, there was not the
slightest need.

By the time that the general review was half through it was plain
enough that Dick Prescott's class standing was going to be better
than it had ever been before. In fact, he was slated to make
the middle of this class.

"I'll be above the middle of the class next year, if the fates
allow me to remain on with the corps," Dick promised himself and
his friends.

"Oh, you'll be in the Army, suh, until you're retired for age,
suh," predicted Anstey with great gravity.

The latter part of May passed swiftly for the busy cadets. The
first class men were dreaming of their commissions in the more
real Army beyond West Point; the present third classmen were looking
forward with intense longing to the furlough that would begin
as soon as they had stepped over the line into the second class.
The new plebes were looking forward to summer encampment with
a mixture of longing and dread---the latter emotion on account of
the hazing that might come to them in the life under the khaki-colored
canvas.

As the days slipped by, Prescott began to have more and more of
his old, firm step. He began to feel sure, too, that the surgeons
would have no more fault to find with his condition.

"Why, I could ride a horse in fine shape to-day," declared Prescott,
on one of t