He knew it was, but he wanted to say something.

"Yes. I'm from Kentucky."

"I'm a York Stater. Come on and I'll show you where we bunk."

The two made their way through crowds of new boys and were soon in their apartment.

It was like all the others provided for the use of the students. It contained two small iron beds, and was simply furnished.

"Here's where we'll be at home," observed d.i.c.k. "Have you any choice as to a bed?"

"No, either one will suit me."

"All right, we'll toss up for it. Heads is the one nearest the window.

You call."

d.i.c.k spun a coin in the air.

"Tails!" cried young Drew.

"Tails it is," announced d.i.c.k.

"Then I'll take the bed away from the window. It's likely to be cold in the winter."

"I don't mind. I like a cool breeze now and then. But stow away your things and come on down. There's lots to see. I hope we get into our uniforms soon. You've got yours, haven't you?"

"Yes," replied d.i.c.k's roommate. d.i.c.k had been provided with the necessary dress uniform before leaving home, and he was anxious to don it. The other uniforms were to be obtained at the academy.

The two boys, after hastily putting away their things, went down on the campus, which was fairly swarming with old and new students. More boys were arriving with every stage, and the shouts and cries, as former acquaintances greeted one another, made the green sound like an athletic ground with a championship match in progress.

As d.i.c.k and Paul stood looking about them, the young millionaire felt some one touch him on the arm. He turned and saw William Schoop. Will nodded his head to indicate that he wanted d.i.c.k to step aside for a moment. Excusing himself from his roommate d.i.c.k walked a little distance, following William the Silent.

"Don't mind Dutton," said William.

"Who's Dutton?" inquired d.i.c.k.

"Fellow that rigged you. He's an uppish chap, but he's a leader with the upper cla.s.smen. Don't let him worry you."

This was a longer speech than Will usually made.

"But why should he be down on me because I've got money?" asked d.i.c.k.

"It isn't my fault."

"Very exclusive school, this," explained Will. "Patronized by old, blue-blooded families, who pretend to have a horror of the newly-rich."

"But my father has been wealthy many years."

Will shrugged his shoulders.

"They seem to have a prejudice against you," he went on. "Don't mind.

It'll wear off. Dutton--Ray Dutton's put 'em up to it. He's a cad. Don't mind him," and with that Will turned and walked away.

"Well, I guess I can get along without Dutton and his crowd," thought d.i.c.k. "Queer, I never supposed money would make this sort of a difference. It didn't at home. Well, I'll try to get along, but it's evidently going to be up-hill work. Still, I'll do it, and, if money stands in the way--well----"

d.i.c.k shrugged his shoulders in a sort of helpless fashion, and rejoined Paul. The two strolled about, noting the scenes taking place on every hand. They saw many cadets, obviously freshmen, and some of the latter introduced themselves to d.i.c.k and his companion. They were Franklin Boardman, Stanley Booker, Lyndon Butler and Eugene Graham.

"Let's stick together for a while," proposed 'Gene, as the boys called him. "It'll soon be grub time, I understand, and we'll sit near each other."

This suited the others, and, when the gong rang, summoning them to the mess hall, the six lads went in a body, finding seats in a row on one side of the long tables, which were served by colored waiters.

Discipline had not yet been put into force, and no one was in uniform.

The mess hall was a lively place, for the older cadets were continually calling jokes back and forth to their chums, or jollying the waiters whom they knew of old.

d.i.c.k and his new acquaintances conversed together, and, in spite of their rather awkward feelings, managed to partake of a good meal, for Kentfield Academy was noted for the excellence of its cuisine.

When the meal was nearly over Toots appeared in the hall, with a hammer, and a piece of paper. He tacked a notice up on the bulletin board.

"Hey, Toots; what's that?" called Ray Dutton.

"Notice about appearing in uniform, Mr. Dutton," replied the odd soldier.

"When's it to be?"

"To-morrow morning."

"Aw, tear that down, Toots, you imitation brigadier general you!" called another youth.

"Sure. We don't want to tog up until the first of the week," added another. "Swallow that, Toots, and tell the commandant you lost it."

"Orders is orders," said Toots firmly, hammering in the last tack, and leaving the hall.

The afternoon was spent in a.s.signing the new cadets to their cla.s.ses, and arranging for the courses of study. They were told that formal drills would not begin until Monday, this being Thursday, nor would any recitations be heard until then.

After supper, or dinner as it was called at the academy, the new boys strolled about in little groups, d.i.c.k and his five friends keeping together.

"I wonder where all the older cadets are?" said d.i.c.k, as he looked about, and noticed that none was in sight.

"That's so, they have disappeared," added Lyndon Butler. "I wonder what that means?"

They did not have long to wait for an answer. A figure slid up to d.i.c.k, and, almost without turning he knew it to be Will. The silent youth spoke but one word:

"Hazing!"

Then he walked away as silently as he had approached, and d.i.c.k turned to his companions.

"I guess they're getting ready to haze us freshmen," he remarked.

"I thought they didn't haze here," said 'Gene Graham quickly. He was rather a small chap, and seemed very nervous.