Had Dick been really guilty he would have been the meanest thing in cadet barracks.
At a little before nine o'clock Lieutenant Topham called. To Cadet Prescott it seemed grimly absurd that he must now go forth in holiday attire of cadet full-dress uniform, white lisle gloves and all—-to stand before the court of officers who were to decide whether he was morally fit to remain and associate with the other cadets. But it was the regulation that a cadet must go to court, whether as witness or accused, in full-dress uniform.
"I'm going to do my best for you today, Mr. Prescott," declared
Lieutenant Topham, as they walked through the area together.
Into the Academic Building counsel and accused stepped, and on to the great trial room in which so many cadets had met their gloomy fates.
At the long table sat, in full-dress uniform, and with their swords on, the thirteen Army officers of varying ranks who composed the court.
At one side of the room sat the cadet witnesses. These were three in number. Mr. Dunstan and Mr. Gray were there as the two men who had occupied blackboards on either side of Prescott the Friday forenoon before. Cadet Dodge was there to give testimony concerning the handkerchief episode in the area of barracks before the sections had marched off to math.
Captain Abbott, of course, was there, to testify to facts of his knowledge. Never had there been a more reluctant witness than that same Captain Abbott, but he had his plain duty to do as an Army officer detailed at the United States Military Academy.
Lieutenant Topham and Dick, on entering, had turned toward the table reserved for counsel.
For a moment, Dick Prescott had raised his face to the gallery. There he beheld Mrs. Bentley, Laura and Belle, all gazing down at him with smiling, friendly faces.
Dick could not send them a formal greeting. But he looked straight into the eyes of each in turn. His smile was steady, clear and full of courage. His look carried in it his appreciation of their loyal friendship.