"Genius knows no precedent, they say. Farewell.
"Your friend,
"Wicks Merritt.
"P. S.—They tell me you've saved the life of Judge Fuller's daughter. Just take a word of advice—make the most of your opportunity! She's the prettiest girl around the place, and the nicest, too, and she has half the corps wild over her. If you can make friends with her, I think the yearlings would stop hazing you at her command."
Mark finished the reading of the letter and gazed at his comrades, smiling.
"You see," he said, "our fame has spread even to Annapolis. Gentlemen, I propose three cheers for our crowd!"
"An' three fo' Clif Faraday!" cried Texas.
"Only don't give any of them," added Mark, "for somebody might hear us."
There was a moment's pause after that, broken by a protest from one of the Seven, Joseph Smith, of Indianapolis, popularly known as "Indian," a fat, gullible youth, who was the laughingstock of the post.
"I tell you," said he, his round eyes swelling with indignation, "I don't think what Clif Faraday did was a bit more B. J. than some of our tricks!" (B. J. is West Point dialect for "fresh.")