that to occupy me this summer. I hope you have luck."
"Thanks. I haven't the least idea where I'm to go, or how. But dad will explain when I get home."
"Come on, now, everybody! We're going to sing 'Farewell to Old Kentfield'!" cried Ed Watson. "Everybody!"
The cadets leaped to their feet, and soon the strains of the grand old song welled out of the banquet hall. Grit, the bulldog was hoisted to a place of honor on two chairs, beside Dick, and he looked on as if he understood it all.
The banquet was nearing an end, and at last, with a clasping of hands around the tables, and a rendering of another verse of the song, while cheers for Dick were mingled with the strains, the affair came to a close.
"What's your hurry?" asked Paul, as Dick walked toward his room in the barrack building.
"I'm going to pack up to-night, and take the first train for home in the morning. I'm anxious to find out what dad wants of me."
"That's so; you're going off to trail a fortysecond grand-aunt, or something like that. Well, I may see you this summer," and the two friends shook hands.
The next morning, after a prolonged series of farewells, Dick and his bulldog took a train for Hamilton Corners, a fair-sized town in one of our middle western states.
