Dick Prescott's Third Year at West Point - LightNovelsOnl.com
You're reading novel online at LightNovelsOnl.com. Please use the follow button to get notifications about your favorite novels and its latest chapters so you can come back anytime and won't miss anything.
"Prescott has very little chance of remaining in the corps, I suppose?"
"The surgeons don't quite say that," rejoined Greg.
"Oh, the rainmakers (doctors) are always cagey about giving real information until a man's dead," declared the turnback sagely.
"They seem to believe that Prescott has an excellent chance,"
insisted Greg.
"No bones broken?"
"Not a one."
"What is the trouble, then?"
"The rainmakers can't say exactly. They're waiting and watching."
"Humph! That sounds pretty bad for their patient."
"They say that if Prescott is able to walk soon, then his return to duty ought to be rather speedy."
"I'd like to believe the rainmakers," grunted Haynes.
"Would you?" inquired Greg very coolly.
"Of course."
"What is your particular interest in my roommate?" demanded Cadet Holmes.
He looked straight into the other's eyes. "Why, Prescott is one of the best and most popular fellows in the cla.s.s. I've always liked him immensely, and-----"
"Humph!" broke in Cadet Holmes, using the turnback's own favorite word.
To just what this scene might have led it is impossible to say, but just at that instant Anstey and two other second cla.s.smen came into the room, and the turnback seized the opportunity to get away.
Though Cadet Prescott was so cheerful over his injury he was in a good deal of pain as the evening wore on.
Every hour or so Goodwin or the other surgeon came in to see him.
Though Prescott could hardly be expected to understand it, the surgeons were pleased, on the whole, with the pain. Had there been numbness, instead, the surgeons would have looked for paralysis.
Later in the night d.i.c.k asked Captain Goodwin if he could not administer some light opiate.
"You are willing to be a soldier, I know, Mr. Prescott," replied the surgeon.
"Be sure of that, sir," replied the young man, Wincing.
"Then try to bear the pain. It is the best indication with which we have to deal. It is one of the most hopeful symptoms for which we could look. Besides, your descriptions of the pain, and of its locality, if you are accurate, will give us our best indication of what to do for you."
"Then I don't want any opiate, sir," replied d.i.c.k bluntly. "I don't care whether I'm kept here a day or a year, or what I have to suffer, only as long as I don't have to lose an active career in the service!"
"Good for you, my young soldier," beamed the surgeon, patting the cadet's hand. "The superintendent telephoned over, a little while ago, to ask how you were. I told him that your grit was the best we had seen here in a long time."
"Thank you, sir."
"And the superintendent replied, dryly enough, that he expected that from your general record. The superintendent sent you his personal regards."
"Thank you, sir, and the superintendent, too."
"Oh, and a lot of others have been inquiring about you, too---the K.C. and all of the professors and most of the instructors. And at least a small regiment of cadets have tramped down as far as the office door also. I've been saving the names of inquirers, and will tell you the names in the morning. All except the names of the cadets, that is. There was too big a mob of cadets for us to attempt to keep the names."
It was a painful, restless, feverish night for Prescott. He slept a part of the time, though when he did his sleep was filled with nightmares.
The surgeons won his grat.i.tude by their devotion to his interests.
The first half of the night Captain Goodwin was in at least every hour. The latter half of the night it was Lieutenant Sadtler who made the round.
By permission Cadet Holmes came to the hospital office just after breakfast.
It was a gloomy face that poor Greg wore back to barracks with him.
The surgeons had spoken hopefully, but---
"Brains always work better than brute force," Haynes told himself, struggling hard to preserve his self-esteem.
CHAPTER XXI
THE MAN MOVING IN A DARK ROOM
May came, and, with the gorgeous blossoms of that month, d.i.c.k Prescott left the hospital.
He was able to walk fairly well, and was returned to study and recitations, though excused from all drills or any form of military duty.
Not quite all the old erectness of carriage was there, though d.i.c.k hoped and prayed daily that it would return.
He had been cautioned to take the best of care of himself. He had been warned that he was still on probation, so far as his physical condition was concerned.
"A sudden bad wrench, and you might undo all that has been done for you so far," was the surgeons' hint.
So Prescott, though permitted to march with his sections to recitations, and to fall in at the meal formations, was far from feeling rea.s.sured as to his ability to remain in the service.
He was to have a physical examination after the academic year was finished, and other examinations, if needed, during the summer encampment.
And well enough the young man knew this meant that, if he was found to be permanently disqualified in body, he would be dropped from the cadet corps as soon as the decision was reached.
"Do you know," muttered Greg vengefully, "Haynes had the cheek to come here and ask after you?"