Dick Prescott's First Year at West Point, or Two Chums in the Cadet Gray Paperback - 2003

From the publisher

Excerpt: ...you?" "No, sir; only anxious to atone for my b.j.-ety," replied Cadet Prescott, with a little flash of his eyes. Anstey had gone below with Devine, to render any help that could be given. "This is rather unusual, mister," suggested Mr. Edwards, glancing at his watch. "However, if you really feel fit, and if it suits Mr. Kramer-" "Oh, anything will suit me," returned the yearling. Truth to tell, Kramer wasn't by any means sure that he could whip this crafty plebe. But the issue had been thrown fairly in his teeth. Moreover, the honor of the yearling class was now at stake, and Kramer wasn't the man to go back on his class. "Listen, gentlemen," broke in Mr. Edwards. "This affair started a little ahead of the time set. It is now nine-fifteen. In ten minutes or less, we can have Mr. Spurlock on his way to cadet hospital. Then, if you two mix it up spicily, we can have the affair over by nine-forty. In any case I shall have to call the fight by that time, and decide it a draw, if necessary. What say you?" "Quite satisfactory, sir," nodded Kramer. "Satisfactory, sir," added Prescott, waiting, as a plebe should, until the yearling had spoken. Devine was back almost at once. The seconds carried the still unconscious Mr. Spurlock below to the waiting stretcher. Immediately after Kramer dropped in on a classmate, who gladly came upstairs to aid Mr. Devine in seconding Mr. Kramer. Not an unnecessary moment did Mr. Kramer lose with his stripping. He was ready in almost record time, presenting, bared, a man of about Mr. Spurlock's proportions, weight and general muscular fitness. Mr. Edwards quickly recited the conditions, then called for the start of the affair. Figuring that Prescott must now be a good deal sore and at least a bit winded, Mr. Kramer started in at a lively gait, trying to bear the plebe down with swift, overpowering rushes and showers of blows. Some of these landed on the plebe's sturdy body, the whacks resounding. But the blows merely stirred...