"I doubt it," replied the major, shaking his head. "I tried all the sources of information I knew, and it was useless. Still you may have better luck." The medal was sent off, but, fearing nothing would come of it, Dick did not say anything to Captain Handlee about it, though he wrote to the veteran in answer to a letter the old soldier sent him. The holiday vacation came to a close, and, one morning Dick awoke to a realization that, on that day, the cadets would come pouring back. It was nearly noon when the first of them arrived. Among them was Paul Drew. "Well, how are you, old chap?" he cried, rushing into Dick's room. "Pretty good. How about you?" "Oh, I had a dandy time, home. I almost hated to come back, but I wanted to see you, and then I know we'll have some sport this winter. Say, there are a lot of new fellows. We're not so fresh as we were. There are others. There's going to be hazing to-night, I understand. Thank fortune they won't bother me. I don't fancy cold water down my back on a winter night." "Hazing, eh?" remarked Dick. And he wondered if his turn would come. CHAPTER XX DICK DOESN'T TELL All the rest of that day cadets continued to arrive at Kentfield Academy, and there were lively scenes on the snow-covered campus, in the assembly auditoriums, students' rooms, and in the mess hall. Several new cadets stood about, looking rather miserable, Dick thought, and he spoke to some of them, telling them where to report, and what to do, for he appreciated what it meant to be a stranger among a lot of lads who ignored new-comers, not because they were heartless so much as that they were thoughtless. Dick rather hoped Dutton would not return, but that cadet was among the first he encountered as he strolled over the white campus. Dutton nodded coolly, and Dick as coolly acknowledged the bow. Then Dutton saw a freshman standing near the saluting cannon. It was one of the unwritten rules of the school that none below the grade of sophomores might stand near the cannon. "Here, fresh!" cried Dutton roughly, "stand away from that gun!" The lad, a small chap, did not seem to comprehend. Dick put in a word. "You can't stand near there until you're a second year," he told the lad. "It's a school rule, that's all." "I say, Hamilton, I guess I can manage my own affairs," said Dutton, angrily. "You mind your own business; will you?" "I guess I've got as much right to speak as you have," said Dick hotly. "I was only telling him what to do." The freshman looked from one to the other. Quite a group had gathered by this time, attracted by Dutton's loud voice. The new lad moved a short distance away from the gun.