"I thought you meant I should be sure to graduate," said Renwick, disappointed.
"There's but one thing sure." And rising to his feet, Cadet Kindred chanted out a scrap of an old hymn.
"Looking off unto Jesus,
I go not astray:
My eyes are on him
And he shows me the way.
The path may seem dark
As he leads me along;
But following Jesus,
I cannot go wrong."
"Does it ever seem dark to you, sir?" Renwick said wistfully.
"Lots of times."
"It is so hateful here," the boy burst forth; "the place, and the drills, and the cadets, and everything!"
"Yes, isn't it!" said Magnus heartily. "I have felt just so. Why, there are days when I should like to shoot the cadets, burn down the barracks, pitch all those old study books into the blaze, and tie the Tacs within roasting distance."
The two looked at each other, and then both broke into a laugh.
"Splendid old place, isn't it?" said Mr. Kindred. "And the drills are as good as the rack for stretching a man. And the cadets aren't much worse than the rest of the world. You and I are two of them. Come on! Let's go take a look at the flag. That always puts me to rights when I turn sour. 'Hail, Columbia, happy land!' and West Point is part of it."
"The sweet red, white, and blue,
The brave red, white and blue,
Has done so much for me,
And done so much for you."