Leaving the road that wound by the officers' quarters at the north end, turning on to the road that passed the hotel, a hot, somewhat tired and rather dusty column of cadets swung along towards their tents in the distance. The column was under arms, as though the cadets had been engaged in target practice or out on a reconnaissance.

His jaw set firmly, his keen, fiery eyes roving over the group before him, the gray-haired colonel of infantry closed his remarks with these words: "Gentlemen, the task set for the officers of the United States Army is to produce, with the least possible delay, the finest fighting army in the world. Our own personal task is to make this, the Ninety-ninth, the finest regiment of infantry in that army.

Clang "Attention, please." The barely audible droning of study ceased promptly in the big assembly room of the Gridley High School. The new principal, who had just stepped into the room, and who now stood waiting behind his flat-top desk on the platform, was a tall, thin, severe-looking man of thirty-two or three. For this year Dr. Carl Thornton, beloved principal for a half-score of years, was not in command at the school. Ill health had forced the good old doctor to take at least a year's rest, and this stranger now sat in the Thornton chair.

"Football is all at sixes and sevens, this year," muttered Dave Darrin disconsolately. "I can tell you something more than that," added Tom Reade mysteriously. "What?" asked Dick Prescott, looking at Reade with interest, for it was unusual for Reade to employ that tone or air. "Two members of the Athletics Committee have intimated to Coach Morton that they'd rather see football passed by this year." "What?" gasped Dick. He was staring hard now. "Fact," nodded Tom. "At least, I believe it to be a fact."

"Detachment halt " commanded the engineer officer in charge. Out on the North Dock at West Point the column of cadets had marched, and now, at the word, came to an abrupt stop. This detachment, made up of members of the first and third classes in the United States Military Academy, was out on this August forenoon for instruction in actual military engineering.

"There's just one thing that I keep thinking about on a day like this," Dave Darrin sighed contentedly. "What's that?" Tom Reade wanted to know. "Supper?" Darrin turned, favoring Reade with a flash of disgust from his large, dark eyes. "I'm still waiting for the information," insisted Tom after a short pause. "You may as well wait," retorted Dave. "You wouldn't understand what I feel, anyway. Any fellow who can keep his mind on supper, on a grand June day like this---" "I imagine that you'll keep your mind on the meal when you reach the table," predicted Tom, grinning.

"You'll find your man in the lobby of the Eagle Hotel or in the neighborhood of the hotel on Main Street," said Dick Prescott. "You can hardly miss him." "But how will I know Mr. Hibbert, when I see him?" pursued the stranger. "I don't know that his name is Hibbert," Dick answered. "However, he is the only young man who has just reached town fresh from Europe. His trunks are pasted all over with labels."

"It's the wreck of one of the grandest enterprises ever conceived by the human mind " complained Colonel W.P. Grundy, in a voice broken with emotion. A group of small boys grinned, though they offered no audible comment. "Such defeats often--usually, in fact--come to those who try to educate the masses and bring popular intelligence to a higher level," was the colonel's declaration, as he wiped away a real or imaginary tear.

"AW, what's the difference between a soldier and a loafer?" demanded "Bunny" Hepburn. "A soldier ain't a loafer, and it takes nerve to be a soldier. It's a job for the bravest kind of a man," retorted Jud Jeffers indignantly. "Answer my c'nundrum," insisted Bunny.

"Is the 'Meteor' a fast boat?" "Very fast, indeed." "But can she beat anything along this coast? That's what I want to know." "Judge for yourself. On her trial trip she made within a small fraction of twenty-eight miles an hour." "Whew That's tremendous speed, even for a fast and costly boat such as the rich build to-day. But how long has she been in the water?" "Since last March."