"Don't you know enough to mind when you're spoken to?" demanded Dutton, advancing toward him. "I'll teach you manners, you young cub! Why don't you salute when an officer speaks to you? Now get back," and, with that he gave the lad such a shove that he went over backward into a snow bank, made by shoveling the white crystals away from the gun. "That's not right, Dutton!" exclaimed Dick. "You mind your own affairs, or I'll do the same to you, Hamilton," retorted the bully. "You'd better try it," said Dick quietly. "If you want to fight with me, you know what to do. Just lay a finger on me." He took a step toward his enemy, and stood waiting for him. But Dutton knew better than to attack Dick. He had felt the weight of his fists once, and he knew he had no chance in a fair fight. So he strode away, muttering to the lad whom he had knocked down: "You keep away from this gun, after this, fresh." Dick did not think it wise to say anything further on the side of the mistreated one. Already he saw some unpleasant looks directed toward him by Dutton's friends, and he realized that by interfering in what was considered one of the rights of upper classmen, to assume a bullying attitude toward those in the lower grades, he was not adding to his popularity. I am glad to say that such characters as Dutton were in the small majority at Kentfield, and that though some of his cronies applauded his action in knocking the newcomer down, most of the lads were not in sympathy with the bully. But there were so many things occurring, so many cadets arriving, some of whom wanted to change their apartments, to get new roommates, or be quartered in other sections of the barracks, that all was in seeming confusion. Colonel Masterly and his aides, however, had matters well in hand, and by night, when the cadets lined up for the march to mess, affairs were in some sort of order. "Do you want to make a shift, Paul?" asked Dick, as they went to their room early that evening. "A shift? What do you mean?" "Why some of your friends have changed over to the east barrack, I hear. I thought maybe you'd want to go too?" "Do you want me to go?" "Indeed I don't!" and Dick spoke very earnestly. "All right. When I want to leave you I'll let you know," and Paul slapped Dick on the back in a fashion that told what his feelings were in the matter. A little later mysterious steps in the corridor, and subdued knockings on nearby doors told Paul and Dick that something unusual was going on. "Hazing," said Paul. "We're immune. Let's take it in." "I don't like to haze fellows," said Dick. "It's all right when they're your size, but all the chaps who came in lately are smaller than I am." "That won't make any difference to Dutton and his crowd. They'll haze 'em anyhow, and we might as well see the fun. A fellow who can't stand a little hazing is no good."