The daily marks were not posted until the end of the academic week, but Prescott knew, when Monday's recitation in mathematics was over, that he had found new favor in the eyes of Captain Abbott, the instructor. On Tuesday again he was sure that he had landed another high mark.
Greg caught some of the fire of his chum's example, and he, too, began to bone so furiously that he decided to drop the hops for the time.
Wednesday again Dick marched back in mathematics section with a consciousness that he had not fumbled once in explaining the problem that he had been ordered to set forth the blackboard.
"I hear that you're going to graduate ahead of time, and be appointed professor in math.," grinned Greg.
"Well, I'm at least beginning to find out that some things are better than hops," laughed Dick happily. "Greg, if I can kill math. to my satisfaction this year, I shan't have another doubt about being able to get through and graduate here!"
It was the end of November by this time, and Dick, on Thursday of this successful week, received a letter to the effect that Laura and Belle would arrive at West Point on Saturday afternoon at one o'clock.
The news nearly broke up Prescott's three hours of study that Thursday evening. However, he fought off the feeling of excitement and hampering delight.
When Dick marched with his section into mathematics Friday morning he felt a calm confidence that he would keep up the average of his fine performance for the week.
"Mr. Furlong, Mr. Dunstan, Mr. Prescott and Mr. Gray, go to the blackboards," ordered Captain Abbott. "The other gentlemen will recite from their seats."
Stepping nimbly over to the blackboard, in one corner of which his name had been written, Dick picked up the chalk, setting down the preliminaries of the problem assigned to him. Then his chalk ran nimbly along over the first lines of his demonstration.