"It's a shame!" cried the other. "And you have worked for your appointment, too."
"I have worked," exclaimed Mark, something choking his voice that sounded suspiciously near a sob, "worked for it as I have never worked for anything in my life. It has been the darling ambition of my heart to come here. And I came—and now—and now——"
He stopped, for he could think of no more to say. Williams stood and regarded him in silence for some moments, and then he took him by the hand again.
"Mr. Mallory," said he, "just as sure as I'm alive this thing shall stop! Keep up heart now, and we'll make a fight for it! While there's life there's hope, they say—and, by Heaven, you shan't be expelled!"
The following evening, when the reports were read, Mark's list of demerits had reached a total of ninety-five.
The excitement among plebes and cadets alike was intense, and it was known far and wide that Mark Mallory, the "B. J." plebe, stood at last "in the shadow of dismissal."
CHAPTER XXIV.
A LETTER.
"My Dear Fischer: I promised to drop you a line just to let you know how I'm getting along, though it does take a tremendous pile of energy to write a letter on a hot afternoon like this. I'm sure I shall go to sleep in the middle of it, and naturally, too, for even writing to you is enough to bore anybody. I can almost imagine you leaning over to whack at me in return for that compliment.
"Well, I am home on furlough; and I don't know whether I wish I were back or not, for I fear that you will have cut me out on all the girls, especially since you are a high and mighty first captain this year. Speaking of girls, you just ought to be here. The girls at West Point are blasé on cadets, for they see so many; but here a West Point officer is cock of the walk, and I have to fight a jealous rival once a week."