Description

A West Point Treasure Or Mark Mallorys Strange Find

142 pages  

“Hey, there, you fellows, I’ve got a letter to read to you.”
He was a tall, handsome lad, with a frank, pleasant face, and a wealth of curly brown hair.
He wore a close-fitting gray jacket and trousers. The uniform of a West Point “plebe,” as the
new cadet is termed. He was standing in front of one of the tents in the summer camp of the
corps, and speaking to half a dozen of his classmates.
The six looked up with interest when they heard what he said.
“Come in, Mark,” called one of them. “Come in here and read it.”
“This is addressed to me,” began Mark Mallory, obeying the request and sitting down. “But
it’s really meant for the whole seven of us. And it’s interesting, as showing what the old
cadets think of the tricks we bold plebes have been playing on them.”
“Who’s it from?”
“It’s from Wicks Merritt, the second classman I met here last year. He’s home on furlough
for the summer, but some of the other cadets have written and told him about us, and what
we’ve been doing. And this is what he says about it. Listen.