More cadets came piling in, laughing and shouting, until the room was filled.
"Sit down, fellows," invited Dick, and when they were in their chairs he gave orders to the caterer's men to serve the spread. From then on there was heard the clatter of knives, forks and spoons, the rattle of dishes mingling with the talk and laughter of the guests.
"Dick, you've got to make a speech!" shouted Perkins. "Tell us how we won the medal."
"No speeches," mumbled Dick, his mouth half full of roast chicken.
"Speech! Speech! Speech! Speech!" yelled a score of voices. They were not to be denied, and Dick, blushing in spite of his effort to remain cool, stood up.
"All I've got to say is that it was you fellows who won the prize—not me," he said. "I'm proud of you, proud of—er—and proud of—er—that is—Oh, hang it all! Go on eating. There's lots more when this is gone!" and Dick sat down, amid laughter and applause.
The banquet proceeded amid much merriment. There were songs and college yells, and the musicians hired by Dick added to the din.
"What are you going to do this summer?" asked Paul Drew, who, as first lieutenant, sat at the young captain's right hand.
"Don't know. Haven't exactly made up my mind yet. I want to travel, but I fancy dad has some plans for me. By Jove! that reminds me. I got a letter from him this morning, but I haven't had a chance to read it through and get the hang of it yet, though I've tried half a dozen times. It's something important, but I don't know just what it is."
"Go ahead and read it now," advised Paul. "The bunch is singing the 'Cannon Song' and they won't notice."