“I move in no social circle, sir, so had no one to tell it to.”
The commandant turned his head away to hide a satisfied smile, while Scott Clemmons felt that he had made a sad mistake in his slur at Mark for being only a fisher lad.
CHAPTER XIX.
A THREAT.
Scott Clemmons was a remarkably politic young man for one of his years.
He had seen the gathering of the cadets, and recognized Mark Merrill in their midst, and it had made him envious and hateful.
One whom he hated was coming under flying colors, it seemed.
Wondering how Mark had gotten his appointment, and angry because he had done so, he saw that he was made a hero of from the start, or else why this popular demonstration in his favor.
“Of course he will never pass the examinations, for he is too ignorant for that,” he said to himself.
Then had the commandant re-entered with Mark Merrill, and the vain youth had sneered at the sailor-boy appearance of the lad, and thought what a far greater impression he would make in his fine clothes and polished manner.