"Please don't say that," said Sam. "They've always done it, haven't they?"
"I suppose so."
"Then it must be right. Do you think General Meriden would have done it if it had been wrong? We must learn obedience, mustn't we? That's a soldier's first duty. We must obey, and how could we learn to obey better than by being regular servants?"
"And how about obeying the rules of the post that forbid the whole business, hazing and all?" asked Cleary.
Sam was nonplussed for a moment.
"I'm not a good hand at logic," he said. "Perhaps you can argue me down, but I feel that it's all right. I wouldn't miss this special duty business for anything. It will make me a better soldier and officer."
"Sam," said Cleary, who had now got intimate enough with him to use his Christian name,—"Sam, you were just built for this place, but I'll be hanged if I was."
The summer hastened on to its close, and the first-and third-class men had a continual round of social joys. The hotel on the post was full of pretty girls who doted on uniforms, and there were hops, and balls, and flirtations galore. The "beasts" of the fourth class were shut out from this paradise, but they could not help seeing it, and Sam used his eyes with the rest of them. He had never before seen even at a distance such elegance and luxury. The young women especially, in their gay summer gowns, drew his attention away sometimes even from military affairs. There was a weak spot in his make-up of which he had never before been aware. There was one young woman in particular who caught his eye, a vision of dark hair and black eyes which lived on in his imagination when it had vanished from his external sight. Sam actually fancied that the young woman looked at him with approving eyes, and he was emboldened to look back. It was impossible for social intercourse between a young lady in society and a fourth-class "beast" to go further than this, and at this point their relations stood, but Sam was sure that the maiden liked his looks. It so happened that her most devoted admirer was none other than Cadet Saunders, who was continually hovering about her. Sam was devoured with jealousy. In his low estate he was even unable to find out her name for a long time. He could not speak to upper-class men, and his classmates knew nothing of the gay world above them. However, he discovered at last that she was a Miss Hunter from the West. His informant was a waiter at the hotel whom he waylaid on his way out one night, for cadets were forbidden to enter the hotel.
"I suppose she has her father and mother with her?" Sam suggested.
"Oh, no, sir. She's all alone. She's been here all alone every summer this six years."