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Hancock, H. Irving (Harrie Irving), 1868-1922

"Dick Prescott's Third Year at West Point Standing Firm for Flag and Honor"


Here each detachment dismounted, surrendered its horses to a waiting
detail of enlisted cavalrymen, and then marched in to barracks.
As soon as the young men had removed their riding leggings, and the
dust from their uniforms, most of them descended into the quadrangle.
Haynes reached his room just an instant behind Pierson.
"See here, Pierson, you cad, what did you-----"
"Oh, shut up!" replied Pierson, with a weary sigh.
"Don't you speak to me like that, sir!" cried Haynes warningly,
as he stepped over to where his roommate was busy with a clothes
brush.
"I don't want to talk with you at all," retorted Pierson.
"You'll talk to me a lot, or you'll answer with your fists!"
"Fight with you? Bah!" growled the other man in disgust.
"You cad, you deliberately li-----"
But Pierson, having put his brush away, turned on his heel and
left the room.
Haynes paused for an instant, his face white with a new dread.
A cadet stands low, indeed, when another cadet will not resent
being called a liar by him.
"This has kicked up an awful row against me, I guess," muttered
the turnback, as he hastily cleaned himself. "I must get down
into the quadrangle, mix with the fellows and set myself straight.


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