"A total of fifty-five trophies," put in Douglas. "There are quite a number of shields with descriptive plates and small silver cups on them, the prizes of debating teams."
"Are they all in good order?" asked the colonel.
"Most of them are," replied Hudson. "Suppose we take a look at them soon and you may see for yourself. One or two of the cups have been bent and the banners are somewhat dirty and in some cases decidedly moth-eaten. But the lettering is all intact, even on the 1887 banner, and I'm sure we can exhibit them without fear of their falling apart."
"Then you have made a success of the job," began the colonel, but Hudson stopped him.
"I'm afraid we haven't quite done that, sir," he said. "We cannot find the silver cup donated to the class of 1933 anywhere."
The colonel looked puzzled. "I don't remember that cup. What are the details?"
"According to the issue of the _Bombardment_ of that time the cup was awarded by Melvin Gates to the school with the highest rate of individual scholarship, and Woodcrest won it, in fact, the son of the donor won the cup. Well, we cannot find that particular cup anywhere in the school." He paused as a look of recognition came over the colonel's face. "Do you remember it, sir?"
The colonel spoke slowly. "Yes, boys, from the details you have given, I do remember that cup. There is a story connected with it, a story that is by no means pleasant. I do not know where the cup is, but I'll tell you the story of its strange disappearance."
The cadets looked astonished and interested and waited in respectful silence as the headmaster thought for a moment to refresh his memory. Then, with the facts in his mind, he related the story.
"In 1933 there was some talk in the local newspapers about high scholarship among the preparatory and military schools and the idea was expressed that military schools gave so much thought and time to drill and military duties that it was impossible for them to produce a high rate of scholarship," the colonel began. "In the years which have passed since then we have shown here at Woodcrest that such was not the case, that we have turned out scholars as well as gentlemen and soldiers. I ignored it at the time, but one of the trustees, a man who is still trustee, Melvin Gates, became very much incensed over the article in the papers and took steps to challenge it. He conferred with me and I finally agreed to put up at least three cadets whom I thought to be the smartest in their classes, against any three from a preparatory school, and, after an elimination, to allow my brightest scholar to compete against another student from a preparatory school. This was done, and the boy who took the honors in this school was the Arthur Gates you mention, the son of the man who was to donate the cup. He beat the other two boys and won first place.