"Looks as if there's goin' to be high jinks roun' hyar," observed Texas. "It's a shame Mark ain't hyar to see it."
Dewey assented to that emphatically, and Texas after a few moments of moody thoughtfulness, continued:
"Hang them ole cadets!" he growled. "It makes me want to git up and slash round some whenever I think of half o' that whole battalion pitchin' in to punch a feller, because not one of 'em was man enough to lick him in a square, stand-up fight. Tell you, it makes my blood boil! An' they broke his shoulder, an' sent him to hospital, an' he too much of a man to tell on 'em at that! The cowards!"
"That's what I say, too, b'gee!" chimed in Dewey. "Mark's the spunkiest man that ever they laid eyes on."
"That's what he is," growled Texas. "Jes' think o' whar we'd be ef twan't for him. We'd be lettin' them cadets haze us, that's what we would."
"Never mind," said Dewey, prophetically. "Just wait till he's well again, b'gee! And we'll stick by him meanwhile."
"Will we?" echoed Texas. "I couldn't tell in a thousands years what that aire feller's done fo' me. An' I know one other besides us that'll stand by him, too."
"Grace Fuller, you mean?"
"That's what I do! Ever since Mark swam out and near killed himself savin' her from drownin' that girl's been the best friend ever he had. You jes' ought to go over to the hospital an' see how she sends him flowers an' fruit an' things. They let her in to sit with him an' talk to him where they won't let us plebes near him."
"B'gee, I don't blame 'em!" laughed Dewey. "They're afraid of you over there, since they had to nurse you after you rode out and 'held up' the artillery squadron at drill. But I tell you, Mark's in luck to have Grace spooney over him. She's the most beautiful girl I ever saw, and she's the belle of this place. I declare I can hardly believe it, that she's joined with us plebes to fool the yearlings."