But Cadet Prescott was made of broader, n.o.bler stuff. He realized that, without exception, the manly fellows in his cla.s.s were heartily glad to do him justice, now that they knew how blameless he had been. d.i.c.k was as anxious to meet his cla.s.s as they were to reinstate him.

So he hurried along between the jubilant Holmes and Anstey.

The meeting had just quieted down again by the time that the three cadets entered the room.

But in an instant Halsey was on his feet, regardless of rules of parliamentary procedure.

"Give old ramrod the long corps yell!" he shouted.

With hardly the pause of a second it came, and never had it sounded sweeter, truer, grander than when some hundred powerful young throats sent forth the refrain:

_"Rah, rah, ray! Rah, rah, ray! West Point, West Point, Armee Ray, ray, ray! U.S.M.A.!_"

_"Prescott!"_

d.i.c.k Prescott's chest began to heave, though he strove to conceal all emotion. It was sweet, indeed, to have all this enthusiasm over him, after he had so long been the innocent outcast of the cla.s.s.

Tears shone in either eye. Ashamed to raise a hand to brush the moisture away, d.i.c.k tried to wink them out of sight.

But Dougla.s.s, Durville and the others gave him no time to think.

They came crowding about him faster than they could reach him, each with outstretched hand.

Little was said. Soldiers are proverbially silent, preferring deeds to words. So, for nearly ten minutes, the handshaking proceeded.

At last Dougla.s.s, with a warning nod and several gestures, brought the temporary chairman to his senses.

Rap! rap! rap! rang the gavel on the desk.

"The cla.s.s will please come to order," called Chairman Fullerton.

"Now, gentlemen, is there any further business to come before the cla.s.s?"

"Mr. Chairman," called Dougla.s.s, "I move that we proceed to the election of a cla.s.s president."

"Second the motion," cried Durville.

The motion was carried with a rush.

"Mr. Chairman!" called the tireless ex-cla.s.s president.

"Mr. Dougla.s.s."

"Mr. Chairman and gentlemen, I am going to make a mistake that has become time honored among public speakers, that of telling you what you already know as well as I do. This is that Mr. Prescott ought never to have been deposed from the cla.s.s presidency. I move, therefore, sir, that we rectify our stupidity and blindness by making Mr. Prescott once more our president. I beg, sir, to place in nomination for the cla.s.s presidency the name of Richard Prescott, first cla.s.s, U.S.M.A."

"I second the nomination, suh!" boomed out the voice of Anstey.

"Other nominations for the cla.s.s presidency are in order," announced Chairman Fullerton.

Again silence fell.

"Mr. Chairman!"

"Mr. Dougla.s.s."

"Since there are no more nominations, I move you, sir, that Mr.

Prescott be elected president of this cla.s.s by acclamation."

"Sir, I second the motion," came from Durville's throat.

There was wild glee as a volley of "ayes" was fired.

"Those of a contrary mind will say 'no,'" requested the chair.

Not a "no" could be heard.

"The chair will now withdraw, after appointing Mr. Dougla.s.s, Mr.

Durville, Mr. Holmes and Mr. Anstey a committee of honor to escort the new-old cla.s.s president to the chair."

While the little procession was in motion the windowpanes rattled more than ever, with the long corps yell for Prescott.

The instant his hand touched the gavel, d.i.c.k rapped for order.

"Gentlemen of the first cla.s.s," he said quietly, "I thank you all. Little more need be said. I am sure that mere words cannot express my great happiness at being here. I will not deny that I have felt the injustice of the cloud that has hung over me for the last few months. Anyone of you would have felt it under the same circ.u.mstances. But it is past---forgotten, and I know how happy you all are that the truth has been discovered."

There was a moment's silence. Then d.i.c.k asked, as he had so often done before:

"Is there any further business to come before the cla.s.s meeting?"

Silence.

"A motion to adjourn is in order."

The motion was put, offered and carried. d.i.c.k Prescott stepped down from the platform, a man restored to his birthright of esteem from his comrades.

CHAPTER XVI

FINDING THE BASEBALL GAIT

"Morning, old ramrod!"

Never had greeting a sweeter sound than when d.i.c.k strolled about in the quadrangle after breakfast the next morning.

Scores who, for months, had looked straight past Prescott when meeting him, now stopped to speak, or else nodded in a friendly manner.

Twenty minutes later, the sections were marching off into the academic building, in the never-ceasing grind of recitations.

"Prescott," declared Durville, during the after-dinner recreation period, "we want you to come around to show what you can do at baseball. We've some good, armor-proof material for the squad, but we need a lot more. And we want Holmesy, too. Bring him around with you, won't you?"