"This delay and killing suspense before we get before the doctors. I'll bet my fever has gone up above one hundred and three degrees!"
"Form in line, and each one of you turn in all his money," directed the treasurer crisply.
Each candidate was required to deposit with the treasurer the sum of one hundred dollars. In the event that the candidate "passed" successfully to enrollment in the cadet corps, then this money was to be applied to the purchase of things necessary for the new cadet to have. In case the candidate did not pass he would receive his hundred dollars back again—enough, in almost any case, to take the young man safely back to his home.
The first three men to step before the treasurer each turned in a few dollars in excess of the hundred.
Each was handed the treasurer's receipt for the exact amount that he deposited.
Then came a rather dazzlingly attired young man of at least twenty-one. He had watched the others and now, with an air of some importance, drew out a roll of considerable size. He detached two fifty-dollar bills and handed them to the treasurer, with the query:
"A century covers the deposit, doesn't it?"
Though the treasurer frowned slightly at the slang use of "century," he replied briskly:
"You must deposit all the money you have, Mr. Geroldstone."
"But that doesn't seem like a square deal," protested young Geroldstone. "I'll need some money for personal expenses, some for little dinners, something to spend on the young [Transcriber's note: word missing]"