“So say we all of us!” cried Andy, and then the crowd broke into prolonged cheering for Colonel Colby and for everybody else connected with the institution. There followed a number of speeches and then a number of songs, and the dinner did not break up until nearly midnight.
“I’ll tell you what, boys, that was a grand wind-up, and no mistake,” declared Fred, when they were going upstairs to their rooms. “Colonel Colby certainly deserves a medal for the way he’s treated us.”
“It actually makes me sad to think I’m not coming back here next fall,” remarked Jack. “And I won’t be a major any more, either.”
“And I won’t be a captain.”
“Well, it’s one satisfaction,” said Andy, with a grin. “You two highbrows have got to come down to the level of us poor nobodies. Isn’t that so, Randy?”
“That’s right. No more Major This or Captain That.”
“Oh, I won’t mind that,” answered Jack. “Sometimes I think being major of the battalion kept me out of some fun. A fellow holding such an important office can’t do lots of things that an ordinary cadet can.”
“Well, I’m tired,” yawned Andy. “I’ll be glad after all this hubbub to hit the hay and get a sound sleep.”
“That’s the talk!” said Fred, as he threw open one of the doors leading to the connecting rooms which the cousins occupied.