Dick's heart gave a wild throb, as he was called, and, stripping off his sweater, he bounded in from the side line. He was given the ball for a play around the left end, and, getting clear of the opposing players started down the field on a run. But, alas for his hopes of making a touchdown! The referee's whistle blew when he was on the thirty-five yard line, ending the game, in favor of Kentfield. There was rejoicing among the cadets, for Mooretown was an ancient rival, and they played three games with the students of that non-military academy every year, for the local championship. "You didn't get much of a show, Hamilton," said Coach Hale, as the team was in the dressing room. "But you started off well. I guess you'll get into a game yet." Dick was grateful for this praise. He knew he could do good work if he had half a chance. "This is Saturday," observed Paul Drew, as he crawled out of bed the next morning. "Not so many lessons to-day, and lots of fun for you, I suppose on the horses. It's rough-riding to-day." "So it is," agreed Dick. "I like that best of all, except, maybe, hiking on a practice march, and firing from the trenches. I hope I get the horse I had last time." "To-day's the last of the tests," went on Paul, as he slipped into his uniform. "How do you mean?" "I mean the officers are going to choose from those who ride to-day, the cadets who can take part in the tests for joining the prize troop." "Right you are. Say, I'm going to make that troop or bust a leg." "Well, I hope you don't break any bones. But I guess there's no danger. You seem right at home on a horse." "I ought to. I've been riding ever since I was a kid. I'm going to do my best to-day." As Paul had said, this was the final weeding out of candidates among the cadets, who had no chance in the tests that would be held later, to determine who should be members of the prize troop. This troop consisted of the best riders at the academy, and took part in several state evolutions and parades, having won a number of trophies. Scores of cadets, in their service uniforms, reported on the cavalry plain for practice. They were required to vault into the saddle while their horse was standing still, and at varying speeds, up to a smart gallop. Many failed in this, but Dick did not. Then came mounting and dismounting at hurdles, which was more difficult, and weeded out a number, and then, the last of the semifinals, was the feat of standing astride on two horses, driving a steed on either side, and, while doing this, to take a difficult hurdle. More than a score did not succeed at this, and Dick was not a little nervous when it came his turn, as, though he was an expert, he had not practiced this evolution much. On his steeds thundered over the ground, one being a skittish horse, and hard to manage. "If they don't jump together," thought Dick, "I'm done for. If one of them knocks down the hurdle bar it's all up with my chances."