"Thank you, old man," replied the Virginian gratefully.
The time had worn along into October. During the first month of academic work, neither Dick nor Greg had stood as high in their class as they had wished. This is often the case with new second classmen, who have just returned from all the allurements and excitements of their furloughs.
"Are you studying very hard, Anstey?" asked Greg, turning around, as the Virginian entered the door.
"Not very," drawled the Virginian. "I never did like haste and rush. I'm satisfied if I get through. I did hope to stand high enough to get into the cavalry, but now I think I'm going to be pleased if I get the doughboy's white trousers stripe."
The "doughboy" is an infantryman.
"I think I'm going to find it all easy enough, now, after I once get my gait. Thank goodness, we're past the daily math. grind."
"We'll all find plenty of math. in its application to other studies," sighed Prescott. "But what gets me is for an Army officer to have to be roundly coached in philosophy, as regards sound and light."
"And chemistry," groaned Greg, "with heat, mineralogy, geology and electricity. And how the instructors can draw out on the points that a fellow hasn't been able to get through his head!"
"Don't!" begged the Virginian. "It makes my temples throb. I've written mother, asking her to send me some headache powders. Unless our third-year science instructors let up on us, I see myself eating headache powders like candy."
As Anstey turned the knob, and started to go out, another cadet, about to enter, pushed door open and stepped inside.