At first it was pleasant enough, moving along over the snow, but, as it grew colder, it was not quite so much fun. Still the lads did not complain, as they knew the training was good for them. When they had gone about five miles some flakes of snow sifted lazily down from the gray, leaden clouds overhead. "I guess we're going to be in for it before we get back," observed Captain Rutledge. "Close up the ranks, behind there. Don't straggle." They kept to their route, were checked at the proper point by an officer, and then started for the turning station. This was a hotel in a small town ten miles from the academy, and glad enough the cadets were to reach it, and find a hot dinner waiting for them. An hour was allowed for luncheon, and the feeding of the horses, and then the start back was made. This was the most difficult part of the march, as the way led through an uninhabited part of the country, at the edge of the mountain range, and the roads were seldom traveled, and not of the best. About three miles from where they had dinner was another checking station. Dick's squad reached this in the midst of quite a snowstorm. "I guess it will only be a squall," observed Rutledge, as he went in the house, where the checking officer was stationed, to report. "A squall?" observed Dick. "If this doesn't keep up until we get back, and for some time after, I'm a Dutchman." Rutledge came out of the house, followed by the checking officer, Captain Nelton. Both looked worried. "We'll keep watch for them," said Rutledge as he prepared to vault into the saddle. "Yes, I wish you would," said Captain Nelton. "They may have straggled behind, and lost the road. Have them join your squad if you see them." "What's up?" asked Dick, for an air of familiar fellowship was permitted on the practice marches. "Dutton and Stiver didn't report in with their squad, which is just ahead of ours," replied Rutledge. "We're to look out for them." "Most likely they sneaked off to have a good time somewhere," said Dick in a low voice to Paul. The pace was slower now, for the snow was deeper, and the horses were beginning to feel the strain of the long march. The flakes were falling thicker and faster, and from the rear the leader of the squad could not be seen. "Come, boys, close ranks!" called Rutledge several times. "If you stray off now you'll be in danger. Keep together." They tried to, but some horses went better than others, and it was impossible for the stragglers to keep up with the leaders at all times. Rutledge saw this and called to Dick: "Here, Hamilton, you and Drew are good riders. You take the rear, and keep it as close to me as you can. This storm is getting fierce." It was almost a blizzard now, with the wind sobbing and moaning in the trees, and the white flakes cutting into one's face with stinging force. "Take the next turn to the right," called Rutledge to Dick and Paul, as they wheeled their horses and started for the rear.