Now brace up, Greg.
Remember what a small fraction of nothing you are, and be
thankful for the severe handling by Brayton, which may eventually
transform us into at least pretty fair imitations of soldiers."
Outside a drum was sounding. It was mess call, but neither
candidate knew it. Almost immediately, however, Brayton's
rousing voice rang up through the subdivision:
"Candidates turn out promptly!"
"There's our slave-driver once more," frowned Candidate Holmes.
Dick, as he raced down the stairs, remembered to button his coat
down its entire length. Greg forgot. As he darted through the
doorway to the porch overlooking the area he found Corporal
Brayton's gaze fastened upon him in severe displeasure.
"Mr. Holmes, button your coat, sir!"
Reddening and frowning, too, it must be admitted, Greg obeyed.
"All candidates will pass quickly through the north sally port and
make formation," continued the cadet corporal.
Here the entire uniformed cadet corps was forming, facing the
plain. At the extreme left of the line a cadet lieutenant, two
sergeants and four cadet corporals busied themselves with forming
the candidates and alternates in line.
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