"May I speak, sir?" asked Greg when the cadet lieutenant ceased talking, but remained looking fixedly at the new plebe.
"Proceed," replied Mr. Edwards.
"May I have that letter, sir?"
The cadet lieutenant handed it back without a word.
"May I—may I—"
"Out with it, Mr. Holmes."
"May I handle this letter at once in the way that I now wish, sir?"
"You may."
Greg, his face again flushing painfully, tore the sheet into small bits, turning and tossing them into his waste basket. Then he again wheeled, standing at attention.
"Stand at ease, mister," ordered Mr. Edwards, dropping out of his official tone and manner. "Now, mister, will it do you any good if I explain a few little things about life here at West Point?"