Again Brown glanced up at his questioner, but that was all.
"How's the cold lamb, Durville?" questioned Dick.
Durville passed the meat without speaking, nor did he look directly at Prescott.
Dick and Greg exchanged swift glances. They understood. The blow had fallen.
The Silence had been given!
Dick felt a hot flush mounting to his temples. The blood there seemed to sting him. Then, as suddenly, he went white, clammy perspiration beading his forehead and temples.
This was the verdict of the class—-of the corps? He had offended the strict traditions and inner regulations of the cadet corps, and was pronounced unfit for association!
That explained the constrained atmosphere at this one table, the one spot in all the big room where silence replaced the merry chatter of mealtime.
"The fellows are mighty unjust!" thought Dick bitterly, as he went on eating mechanically. He no longer knew, really, whether he were eating meat, bread or potato.
That was the first thought of Prescott. But swiftly his view changed. He realized about him, were hundreds of the flower of the young manhood of the United States. These young men were being trained in the ways of justice and honor, and were trying to live up to their ideals.