"At West Point or Annapolis we have to grind in a way that is never required of mere college men.

We ought to be miles ahead of any fellow who has just finished at High School and then has put in four years only at college." Thus the happy young egotists always talked, nowadays.

To them there was really little in life that did not come through the government military academies.
Phin Drayne, lounging about purposely, with the shambling gait, often saw these happy chums, and scowled after them.
"Everything seems to come to them!" growled Phin.

"What rot it is to say that this is a square world, and that everyone has the same chance! Why doesn't something good come my way ?" The oftener Phin looked in the direction of the chums, and more particularly of Dick, the blacker did Drayne's thoughts become.
"Prescott has had everything come his way ever since he entered High School," growled Phin.

"And now the mucker is going off to West Point, and the government is going to stamp him 'gentleman.' A gentleman?
Pooh! I'd like to show him up, as a bumptious upstart.
Phin scowled fiercely for a moment, before he added: "And, by glory, I will do something to him! I'll take the conceit out of Dick Prescott!" At first it was only the purpose that formed in Drayne's dark mind.