Several days after this, and at night, during my
absence--I was, if I remember aright, at Fort Clinton
making a series of observations with a zenith telescope
in the observatory there--he came to the rear of my
tent, raised the wall near one corner, and placed the
ink on the floor, just inside the wall, which he left
down as he found it.
I found the ink there when I returned. I was utterly
disgusted with the man. The low, unmanly way in which
he acted was wholly without my approval. If he was
disposed to be friendly, why be cowardly about it? If
he must recognize me secretly, why, I would rather
not have such recognition. Acting a lie to his fellow-
cadets by appearing to be inimical to me and my
interests, while he pretended the reverse to me,
proved him to have a baseness of character with which
I didn't care to identify myself.
September came at last, and my algebra was returned.
The book was the one I had used my first year at the
Academy. I had preserved it, as I have all of my
books, for future use and as a sort of souvenir of
my cadet life. It was for that sole reason of great
value to me. I enjoined upon him to take care of the
book, and in nowise to injure it. My name was on the
back, on the cover, and my initial, "F," in two other
places on the cover. When the book was returned he
had cut the calfskin from the cover, so as to remove
my name.
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