"I don't want to mind other people's business, Dodge," continued Furlong coolly, "but you're going a bit too far, it seems to me, in what you say about Prescott. Why should you seek to blacken the character of one of our best fellows, and the president of our class?"
"Because he tried to blacken mine," retorted Dodge boldly.
"He didn't. All he did, at the court-martial, was to explain the adventures of his handkerchief just before that piece of paper fell to the floor of the section room."
"Wasn't that an insinuation against me?" demanded Cadet Dodge.
"Not unless your character here is on such a very poor foundation that it can't stand any suspicions," replied Furlong coldly. "Now, see here, Dodge, the general review is on, and Prescott can't spare any time on private rows. After the general review is over, if I hear any more about your roasting Prescott, I'm going to call on you to go with me to Prescott's presence, and repeat your statements to his face. I don't want to stir up any needless personal trouble, Dodge, but I declare myself now as one of old ramrod's friends. Any slander against him must be backed up. I trust you will pardon my having been so explicit."
Furlong turned on his heel, striding away. The cadets to whom Dodge had been talking bitterly looked at Bert curiously. A good many men in the corps would have promptly resented such remarks as Furlong's, and to the limit, by calling him out.
"Queer how many friends, of some kinds, a fellow like Prescott can have," laughed Dodge sneeringly.
"Not at all," spoke up one of Dodge's listeners. "Everyone always knows where Prescott stands, and he'll back up anything he says. Furlong is another man of the same stamp."
With that the last speaker turned on his heel and walked away.
For some days after that, Bert Dodge was more careful of his utterances.