"It's the right sort of stuff. I had it smuggled in from town. And these are prime cigars. I snibbled some from dad's stock before I came away."

"No, thank you," replied Dick. "I don't care for any."

"What, don't you drink?"

"No."

"Aw, you don't know what life is. Have a cigar then."

"No, I don't smoke, either."

"Humph! You're a regular molly-coddle, you are," said Glen, with a brutal laugh.

Dick flushed.

"Maybe," he admitted, as pleasantly as he could, "but I have an idea I shouldn't drink or smoke while in training, if for no other reason."

"Your training doesn't seem to be doing you much good," said another cadet. "You haven't had a show in any of the games yet. Better quit training and have some beer."