illustration: darrin's blow knocked the midshipman down] dave darrin's second year at annapolis or two midshipmen as naval academy "youngsters" by h. irving hancock illustrated mcmxi contents chapter i. a question of midshipman honor ii. dave's pap-sheet advice iii. midshipman pennington goes too far iv. a little meeting ashore v. when the seconds wondered vi. in trouble on foreign soil vii. pennington gets his wish viii. the tragedy of the gale ix. the despair of the "recall" x. the grim watch from the waves xi. midshipman pennington's accident xii. back in the home town xiii. dan receives a fearful facer xiv. the first hop with the home girls xv. a disagreeable first classman xvi. how dan faced the board xvii. losing the time-keeper's count xviii. fighting the famous double battle xix. the officer in charge is shocked xx. conclusion chapter i a question of midshipman honor "how can a midshipman and gentleman act in that way?" the voice of midshipman david darrin, united states navy, vibrated uneasily as he turned to his comrades. "it's a shame--that's what it is," quivered mr. farley, also of the third class at the united states naval academy. "but the question is," propounded midshipman dan dalzell, "what are we going to do about it?" "is it any part of our business to bother with the fellow?" demanded farley half savagely. now farley was rather hot-tempered, though he was "all there" in points that involved the honor of the brigade of midshipmen. five midshipmen stood in the squalid, ill-odored back room of a chinese laundry in the town of annapolis. there was a sixth midshipman present in the handsome blue uniform of the brigade; and it was upon this sixth one that the anger and disgust of the other five had centered. he lay in a sleep too deep for stirring. on the still, foul air floated fumes that were new to those of his comrades who now gazed down on him. "to think that one of our class could make such a beast of himself!" sighed dave darrin. "and on the morning of the very day we're to ship for the summer cruise," uttered farley angrily. "oh, well" growled hallam, "why not let this animal of lower grade sleep just where he is? let him take what he has fairly brought upon himself!" "that's the very question that is agitating me," declared dave darrin, to whom these other members of the third class looked as a leader when there was a point involving class honor. dave had became a leader through suffering. readers of the preceding volume in this series, "dave darrin's first year at annapolis," will need no introduction to this fine specimen of spirited and honorable young american. readers of that preceding volume will recall how dave darrin and dan dalzell entered the united states naval academy, one appointed by a congressman and the other by a united states senator. such readers will remember the difficult time that dave and dan had in getting through the work of the first hard, grinding year. they will also recall how dave darrin, when accused of treachery to his classmates, patiently bided his time until he, with the aid of some close friends, was able to demonstrate his innocence. our readers will also remember how two evil-minded members of the then fourth class plotted to increase damn's disgrace and to drive him out of the brigade; also how these two plotters, midshipmen henkel and brimmer, were caught in their plotting and were themselves forced out of the brigade. our readers know that before the end of the first year at the naval academy, dave had fully reinstated himself in the esteem of his manly classmates, and how he quickly became the most popular and respected member of his class. it was now only the day after the events whose narration closed the preceding volume. dave darrin and dalzell were first of all brought to notice in "the high school boys' series." in their high school days, back in gridley, these two had been famous members of dick & co., a sextette of youngsters who had made a name for themselves in school athletics. dick prescott and greg holmes, two other members of the sextette, had been appointed to the united states military academy at west point, where they were serving in the corps of cadets and learning how to become army officers in the not far distant future. all of the adventures of dick and greg are set forth in "the west point series." the two remaining members of famous old dick & co., tom reade and harry hazelton, became civil engineers, and went west for their first taste of engineering work. tom and harry had some wonderful and startling adventures, as fully set forth in "the young engineers' series." on this early june day when we again encounter dave darrin and dan dalzell in their handsome naval uniforms, all members of the first, second and third classes were due to be aboard one of the three great battleships that lay off the yard at annapolis at four p.m. these three great battleships were the "massachusetts," the "iowa" and the "indiana." these three huge, turreted fighting craft had their full crews aboard. not one of the battleship commanders would allow a "jackie" ashore, except on business, through fear that many of the "wilder" ones might find the attractions on shore too alluring, and fail to return in time. with the young midshipmen it was different. these young men were officially and actually gentlemen, and could be trusted. yet here, in the back room of this laundry, was one who was apparently not dependable. this young midshipman's name was pennington, and the fact was that he lay in deep stupor from the effects of smoking opium! it had been a storekeeper, with a shop across the street, who had called the attention of dave and his four comrades to the probable fate of another of their class. "chow hop runs a laundry, but i have heard evil stories about a lot of young fools who flock to his back room and get a chance to 'hit' the opium pipe," the storekeeper had stated to dave. "one of your men, or at least, one in a midshipman's uniform, went in there at eleven o'clock this forenoon, and he hasn't been out since. it is now nearly two o'clock and, i've been looking for some midshipmen to inform." such had been the storekeeper's careful statement. the merchants of annapolis always have a kindly feeling toward these fine young midshipmen. the storekeeper's purpose was to enable them to help their comrade out. so the five had entered the laundry. the proprietor, chow hop, had attempted to bar their way to the rear room. but dave had seized the yellow man and had flung him aside. the reader already knows what they discovered, and how it affected these young men. "bring that copper-colored chink in here, if you'll be so good," directed dave. dan and hallam departed on the quest. "you're wanted in there," proclaimed dalzell, jerking a thumb over his shoulder. "me no sabby," replied chow hop, looking up briefly from his ironing board. "get in there--do you hear?" commanded hallam, gripping the other's arm with all his force. "you lemme go chop-chop (quickly), or you get alle samee hurt--you sabby?" scowled chow hop, using his free hand to raise a heavy flat-iron menacingly. but dan dalzell jumped in, giving the chinaman's wrist a wrench that caused him to drop the iron. then, without a bit of ceremony, dan grasped the oriental by the shoulders, wheeled him about, while he protested in guttural tones, and bluntly kicked the yellow-faced one through the door into the inner room. at this summary proceeding both the chinese helpers gripped their flat-irons firmly; and leaped forward to fight. in an ugly temper the chinaman is a bad man to oppose. but now this pair were faced by a pair of quietly smiling midshipmen who were also dangerous when angry. "you two, get back," ordered dalzell, advancing fearlessly upon the pair. "if you don't, we'll drag you out into the street and turn you over to the policemen. you 'sabby' that? you heathen are pretty likely to get into prison for this day's work!" scowling for a moment, then muttering savagely, the two helpers slunk back to their ironing boards. yet, while dan turned to go into the rear room, hallam stood just where he was, to keep an eye on two possible sources of swift trouble. "chow hop," began dave damn sternly, as the proprietor made his flying appearance, "you've done a pretty mean piece of work here"--pointing to the unconscious midshipman in the berth. "do you understand that you're pretty likely to go to prison for this?" "oh, that no maller," replied chow, with a sullen grin. "him plenty 'shipmen come here and smoke." "you lie!" hissed dave, grasping the heathen by the collar and shaking him until the latter's teeth rattled. then dave gave him a brief rest, though he still retained his hold on the chinaman's collar. but the yellow man began struggling again, and dave repeated the shaking. chow hop had kept his hands up inside his wide sleeves. now farley leaped forward as he shouted: "look out, darry! he has a knife!" farley attempted to seize the chinaman's wrist, for the purpose of disarming the yellow man, but dave swiftly threw the chinaman around out of farley's reach. then, with a lightning-like move, dave knocked the knife from chow hop's hand. "pick that up and keep it for a curio, farley," directed dave coolly. in another twinkling darrin had run the chinaman up against the wall. smack! biff! thump! with increasing force dave's hard fist struck the heathen in the face. "now stand there and behave yourself," admonished midshipman dave, dropping his hold on the yellow man's collar, "or we'll stop playing with you and hurt you some." the scowl on chow hop's face was ominous, but he stood still, glaring at dave. "chow, what can we do to bring this man out of his sleep!" asked dave coolly, and almost in a friendly tone. "me no sabby," sulked the chinaman. "yes, you do," retorted dave warningly. "now, what can we do to get our friend out of this!" "you allee same cally (carry) him out," retorted chow, with a suspicion of a sulky grin. "none of that, now, you yellow-face!" glared dave. "how shall we get our comrade out of this opium sleep!" "me no sabby no way," insisted chow. "oh, yes, you do!" snapped dave. "but you won't tell. all right; we'll find the way, and we'll punish you into the bargain. dan, get a piece of paper from the other room." dalzell was quickly back with the desired item. on the paper dave wrote a name and a telephone number. "it's near the end of the doctor's office hours," murmured dave. "go to a telephone and ask the doctor to meet you at the corner above. tell him it's vastly important, and ask him to meet you on the jump." "shall i tell him what's up!" asked dan cautiously. "yes; you'd better. then he'll be sure to bring the necessary remedies with him." dan dalzell was off like a shot. chow tried to edge around toward the door. "here, you get back there," cried dave, seizing the chinaman and slamming him back against the wall. "don't you move again, until we tell you that you may--or it will be the worse for you." ten minutes passed ere dan returned with dr. lawrence. "you see the job that's cut out for you," said darrin, pointing to the unconscious figure in the bunk. "can you do it, doctor?" the medical man made a hasty examination of the unconscious midshipman before he answered briefly: "yes." "will it be a long job, doctor?" "fifteen minutes, probably." "oh, good, if you can do it in that time!" "me go now?" asked chow, with sullen curiosity, as the medical man opened his medicine-case. "yes; if you don't try to leave the joint," agreed dave. "and i'm going outside with you." chow looked very much as though he did not care for company, but midshipman darrin kept at his side. "now, see here, chow," warned dave, "this is the last day you sell opium for white men to smoke!" "you heap too flesh (fresh)" growled the chinaman. "it's the last day you'll sell opium to white men," insisted dave, "for, as soon as i'm through here i'm going to the police station to inform against you. they'll go through here like a twelve-inch shot." "you alle same tell cop?" grinned chow, green hatred showing through his skin. "then i tell evelybody about you fliend in there." "do just as you please about that," retorted dave with pretended carelessness. "for one thing, you don't know his name." "oh, yes, i do," swaggered chow impudently. "know heap 'bout him. his name alle same pen'ton." seizing a marking brush and a piece of paper, chow hop quickly wrote out pennington's name, correctly spelled. his ability to write english with a good hand was one of chow's great vanities, anyway. "you go back to your ironing board, yellow-face," warned darrin, and something in the young third classman's face showed chow that it would be wise to obey. then hallam drew darrin to one side, to whisper earnestly in his ear: "look out, old man, or you will get pen into an awful scrape!" "i shan't do it," maintained darrin. "if it happens it will have been pen's own work." "you'd better let the chink go, just to save one of our class." "is a fellow who has turned opium fiend worth saving to the class!" demanded dave, looking straight into hallam's eyes. "well, er--er--" stammered the other man. "you see," smiled dave, "the doubt hits you just as hard as it does me!" "oh, of course, a fellow who has turned opium fiend is no fellow ever to be allowed to reach the bridge and the quarter-deck," admitted hallam. "but see here, are you going to report this affair to the commandant of midshipmen, or to anyone else in authority?" "i've no occasion to report," replied dave dryly. "i am not in any way in command over pennington. but i mean to persuade him to report himself for what he has done!" "but that would ruin him!" protested hallam, aghast. "he wouldn't even be allowed to start on the cruise. he'd be railroaded home without loss of a moment." "yet you've just said that an opium-user isn't fit to go on in the brigade," retorted darrin. "hang it, it's hard to know what to do," rejoined hallam, wrinkling his forehead. "of course we want to be just to pen." "it doesn't strike me as being just exactly a question of justice to pennington," darrin went on earnestly. "if this is anything it's a question of midshipman honor. we fellows are bound to see that all the unworthy ones are dropped from the service. now, a fellow who has fastened the opium habit on himself isn't fit to go on, is he?" "oh, say, but this is a hard one to settle!" groaned hallam. "then i'll take all the responsibility upon myself," said dave promptly. "i don't want to make any mistake, and i don't believe i'm going to. wait just a moment." going to the rear room, dave faced his three comrades there with the question: "you three are enough to take care of everything here for a few minutes, aren't you?" "yes," nodded dan. "what's up?" "hallam and i are going for a brief walk." then, stepping back into the front room, darrin nodded to his classmate, who followed him outside. "just come along, and say nothing about the matter on the street," requested dave. "it might be overheard." "where are you going?" questioned hallam wonderingly. "wait and see, please." from chow hop's wretched establishment it was not far to the other building that dave had in mind as a destination. but when they arrived, and stood at the foot of the steps, hallam clutched darrin's arm, holding him back. "why, see here, this is the police station!" "i know it," dave replied calmly. "but see here, you're not--" "i'm not going to drag you into anything that you'd object to," darrin continued. "come along; all i want you for is as a witness to what i am going to say." "don't do it, old fel--" "i've thought that over, and i feel that i must," replied dave firmly. "come along. don't attract attention by standing here arguing." in another instant the two midshipmen were going swiftly up the steps. the chief of police received his two callers courteously. dave told the official how their attention had been called to the fact that one of their number was in an opium joint. dave named the place, but requested the chief to wait a full hour before taking any action. "that will give us a chance to get out a comrade who may have committed only his first offense," dave continued. "if there's any opium being smoked in that place i'll surely close the joint out!" replied the chief, bringing his fist down upon his desk. "but i understand your reasons, mr.--" "darrin is my name, sir," replied dave quietly. "so, mr. darrin, i give you my word that i won't even start my investigations before this evening. and i'll keep all quiet about the midshipman end of it." "thank you very much, sir," said dave gratefully. as the two midshipmen strolled slowly back in the direction of chow hop's, dave murmured: "now, you see why i took this step?" "i'm afraid not very clearly," replied midshipman hallam. "that scoundrelly chow made his boast that other midshipmen patronized his place. i don't believe it. such a vice wouldn't appeal to you, and it doesn't to me. but there are more than two hundred new plebes coming in just now, and many of these boys have never been away from home before. some of them might foolishly seek the lure of a new vice, and might find the habit fastened on them before they were aware of it. chow's vile den might spoil some good material for the quarter-deck, and, as a matter of midshipman honor, we're bound to see that the place is cleaned out right away." "i guess, darry, you come pretty near being right," assented hallam, after thinking for a few moments. by the time they reached chow hop's again they found that dr. lawrence had brought the unfortunate pennington to. and a very scared and humiliated midshipman it was who now stood up, a bit unsteadily, and tried to smooth down his uniform. "how do you feel now?" asked dave. "awful!" shuddered pennington. "and now see here, what are you fellows going to do? blab, and see me driven out of the navy?" "don't do any talking in here," advised dave, with a meaning look over his shoulder at the yellow men in the outer room. "doctor, is our friend in shape to walk along with us now?" "he will be, in two or three minutes, after he drinks something i'm going to give him," replied the medical man, shaking a few drops from each of three vials into a glass of water. "here, young man, drink this slowly." three minutes later the midshipmen left the place, dave walking beside pennington and holding his arm lightly for the purpose of steadying him. "how did this happen, pen?" queried dave, when the six men of the third class at last found themselves walking down maryland avenue. "how long have you been at this 'hop' trick?" "never before to-day," replied midshipman pennington quickly. "pen, will you tell me that on your honor?" asked dave gravely. the other midshipman flared up. "why must i give you my word of honor?" he demanded defiantly. "isn't my plain word good enough?" "your word of honor that you had never smoked opium before to-day would help to ease my mind a whole lot," replied darrin. "come, unburden yourself, won't you, pen?" "i'll tell you, darry, just how it happened. to-day _was_ the first time, on my word of honor, i came out into annapolis with a raging toothache. now, you know how a fellow gets to hate to go before the medical officers of the academy with a tale about his teeth." "yes, i do," nodded darrin. "if a fellow is too much on the medical report for trouble with his teeth, then it makes the surgeons look his mouth over with all the more caution, and in the end a fellow may get dropped from the brigade just because he has invited over zeal from the dentist. but what has all this to do with opium smoking?" "just this," replied pennington, hanging his head. "i went into a drug store and asked a clerk that i know what was the best thing for toothache. he told me the best he knew was to smoke a pipe of opium, and told me where to find chow hop, and what to say to the chink. and it's all a lie about opium helping a sore tooth," cried the wretched midshipman, clapping a hand to his jaw, "for there goes that fiendish tooth again! but say! you fellows are not going to leak about my little mishap?" "no," replied darrin with great promptness. "you're going to do that yourself." "what?" gasped midshipman pennington in intense astonishment. "what are you talking about?" "you'll be wise to turn in a report, on what happened," pursued dave, "for it's likely to reach official ears, anyway, and you'll be better off if you make the first report on the subject." "why is it likely to reach official ears, if you fellows keep your mouths shut?" "you see," darrin went on very quietly, "i reported the joint at the police station, and chow hop threatened that, if i did, he'd tell all he knew about everybody. so you'd better be first----" "you broke the game out to the police!" gasped pennington, staring dumfoundedly at his comrade. "what on earth----" "i did it because i had more than one satisfactory reason for considering it my duty," interposed dave, speaking quietly though firmly. "you--you--bag of wind!" exploded midshipman pennington. "i'll accept your apology when you've had time to think it all over," replied dave, with a smile, though there was a brief flash in his eyes. "i'll make no apology to you--at any time, you--you--greaser!" marks for efficiency or good conduct, which increase a midshipman's standing, are called "grease-marks" or "grease" in midshipman slang. hence a midshipman who is accused of currying favor with his officers in order to win "grease" is contemptuously termed a "greaser." "i don't want to talk with you any more, mr. darrin," pennington went on bitterly, "or walk with you, either. when i get over this toothache i'll call you out--you greaser!" burning with indignation, midshipman pennington fell back to walk with hallam. chapter ii dave's pap-sheet advice when our party reached the landing a lively scene lay before them. fully a hundred midshipmen, belonging to the first, second and third classes, were waiting to be transported out to one or another of the great, gray battleships. several launches were darting back and forth over the water. the baggage of the midshipmen had already been taken aboard the battleships. only the young men themselves were now awaited. near-by stood a lieutenant of the navy, who was directing the embarkation of the midshipmen of the different classes. five minutes after our party arrived a launch from the "massachusetts" lay in alongside the landing. "third classmen, this way!" shouted the lieutenant. "how many of you?" turning his eyes over the squad that had moved forward, the officer continued: "twenty-two. you can all crowd into this launch. move quickly, young gentlemen!" in another couple of minutes the puffing launch was steaming away to the massive battleship that lay out in the stream. dave stood well up in the bow. once he barely overheard pennington mutter to a comrade: "the rascally greaser!" "that means me," dave muttered under his breath. "i won't take it up now, or in any hurry. i'll wait until pen has had time to see things straight." as soon as the launch lay alongside, the young midshipmen clambered nimbly up the side gangway, each raising his cap to the flag at the stern as he passed through the opening in the rail. here stood an officer with an open book in his hand. to him each midshipman reported, saluting, stated his name, and received his berthing. "hurry away to find your berthings, and get acquainted with the location," ordered this officer. "every midshipman will report on the quarter-deck promptly at five p.m. in the meantime, after locating your berthings, you are at liberty to range over the ship, avoiding the ward room and the staterooms of officers." the latest arrivals saluted. then, under the guidance of messengers chosen from among the apprentice members of the crew, the young men located their berthings. "i'm going to get mine changed, if i can," growled pennington, wheeling upon dave darrin. "i'm much too close to a greaser. i'm afraid i may get my uniforms spotted, as well as my character." "stop that, pen!" warned dave, stationing himself squarely before the angry pennington. "i don't know just how far you're responsible for what you're saying now. to-morrow, if you make any such remarks to me, you'll have to pay a mighty big penalty for them." "you'll make me pay by going to the commandant and telling him all you know, i suppose?" sneered pennington. "you know better, pen! now, begin to practise keeping a civil tongue behind your teeth!" with that, darrin turned on his heel, seeking the deck. this left "pen" to conjecture as to whether he should report his misadventure, and, if so, how best to go about it. "see here, hallam," began the worried midshipman, "i begin to feel that it will be safer to turn in some kind of report on myself." "much safer," agreed hallam. "it will show good faith on your part if you report yourself." "and get me broken from the service, too, i suppose," growled the unhappy one. "i hardly think it will, if you report yourself first," urged hallam. "but you'll be about certain to get your walking papers if you wait for the first information to come from other sources." "hang it," groaned pennington, "i wish i could think, but my head aches as though it would split and my tooth is putting up more trouble than i ever knew there was in the world. and, in this racked condition, i'm to go and put myself on the pap-sheet. in what way shall i do it, hallam? can't you suggest something?" "yes," retorted hallam with great energy. "go to the medical officer and tell him how your tooth troubles you. tell him what you tried on shore. i'll go with you, if you want." "will you, old man? i'll be a thousand times obliged!" so the pair went off in search of the sick-bay, as the hospital part of a battleship is called. the surgeon was not in his office adjoining, but the hospital steward called him over one of the ship telephones, informing him that a midshipman was suffering with an ulcerated tooth. dr. mackenzie came at once, turned on a reflector light, and gazed into midshipman pennington's mouth. "have you tried to treat this tooth yourself, in any way?" queried the ship's surgeon. "yes, sir; i was so crazy with the pain, while in annapolis, that i am afraid i did something that will get me into trouble," replied pennington, with a quiver in his voice. "what was that?" asked dr. mackenzie, glancing at him sharply. "did you try the aid of liquor?" "worse, i'm afraid, sir." "worse?" pennington told of his experience with the opium pipe. "that's no good whatever for a toothache, sir," growled dr. mackenzie. "besides, it's a serious breach of discipline. i shall have to report you, mr. pennington." "i expected it, sir," replied pennington meekly. "however, the report won't cure your toothache," continued dr. mackenzie in a milder tone. "we'll attend to that first." the surgeon busied himself with dissolving a drug in a small quantity of water. this he took up in a hypodermic needle and injected into the lower jaw. "the ache ought to stop in ten minutes, sir," continued the surgeon, turning to enter some memoranda in his record book. after that the surgeon called up the ship's commander over the 'phone, and made known pennington's report. "mr. pennington, captain scott directs that you report at his office immediately," said the surgeon, as he turned away from the telephone. "very good, sir. thank you, sir." both midshipmen saluted, then left the sick-bay. "this is where you have to go up alone, i guess," hinted midshipman hallam. "i'm afraid so," sighed pennington. "however, i'll be on the quarter-deck, and, if i'm wanted, you can send there for me." "thank you, old man. you're worth a brigade of darrins--confound the greasing meddler!" "darrin acted according to his best lights on the subject of duty," remonstrated mr. hallam mildly. "his best lights--bah!" snarled pennington. "i'll take this all out of him before i'm through with him!" pennington reported to the battleship's commander. after some ten minutes a marine orderly found hallam and directed him to go to captain scott's office. here hallam repeated as much as was asked of him concerning the doings of the afternoon. incidentally, the fact of midshipman darrin's report to the police was brought out. "mr. pennington, i shall send you at once, in a launch, over to the commandant of cadets to report this matter in person to him," said captain scott gravely. "mr. hallam, you will go with mr. pennington." then, after the two had departed, an apprentice messenger went through the ship calling dave's name. that young man was summoned to captain scott's office. "i am in possession of all the facts relating to the unfortunate affair of midshipman pennington, mr. darrin," began captain scott, after the interchange of salutes. "will you tell me why you reported the affair to the police?" "i went to the police, sir," dave replied, "because i was aware that many members of the new fourth class are away from home for the first time in their lives. i was afraid, sir, that possibly some of the new midshipmen might, during one of their town-leaves, be tempted to try for a new experience." "a very excellent reason, mr. darrin, and i commend you heartily for it. i shall also report your exemplary conduct to the commandant of midshipmen. you have, in my opinion, mr. darrin, displayed very good judgment, and you acted upon that judgment with promptness and decision. but i am afraid," continued the navy captain dryly, "that you have done something that will make you highly unpopular, for a while, with some of the members of your class." "i hope not, sir," replied dave. "so do i," smiled captain scott "i am willing to find myself a poor prophet. that is all, mr. darrin." once more saluting, dave left the commanding officer's presence. almost the first classmate into whom he stumbled was dan dalzell. "well, from what quarter does the wind blow!" murmured dan. darrin repeated the interview that he had just had. "i'm afraid, dave, little giant, that you've planted something of a mine under yourself," murmured dalzell. "i feel as much convinced as ever, danny boy, that i did just what i should have done," replied darrin seriously. "and so does captain scott, and so will the commandant," replied dan. "but winning the commendation of your superior officers doesn't always imply that you'll get much praise from your classmates." "unfortunately, you are quite right," smiled dave. "still, i'd do the same thing over again." "oh, of course you would," assented dan. "that's because you're dave darrin." here a voice like a bass horn was heard. "all third classmen report to the quarter-deck immediately!" this order was repeated in other parts of the ship. midshipmen gathered with a rush, pennington and hallam being the only members absent. as soon as the third classmen, or "youngsters," as they are called in midshipman parlance, had formed, the orders were read off dividing them into sections for practical instruction aboard ship during the cruise. dave's name was one of the first read off. he was assigned to duty as section leader for the first section in electrical instruction. dalzell, farley, hallam, pennington and others were detailed as members of that section. the same section was also designated for steam instruction, dalzell being made leader of the section in this branch. the class was then dismissed. somewhat later pennington and hallam returned from their interview with the commandant. hallam at once sought out dave. "darry, old man," murmured hallam, "pen is as crazy as a hornet against you. as he had taken the first step by sticking himself on the pap-sheet (placing himself on report), the commandant said he would make the punishment a lighter one." "what did pen get?" queried dave. "fifty demerits, with all the loss of privileges that fifty carry." "he's lucky," declared dave promptly. "had the report come from other sources, he would have been dismissed from the service." "if pen's lucky," rejoined hallam, "he doesn't seem to realize the fact. he's calling you about everything." "he can keep that up," flashed dave, "until his toothache leaves him. then, if he tries to carry it any further, pen will collide with one of my fists!" not much later a call sounded summoning the youngsters to the midshipmen's mess. dave was glad to note that pennington sat at some distance from him at table. while the meal was in progress the "massachusetts" and the other battleships got under way. the midshipmen were on deck, an hour later, when the fleet came to anchor for the night, some miles down chesapeake bay. before the youngsters were ordered to their berths that night third classman pennington had found opportunity to do a good deal of talking to a few comrades who would listen to him. pennington was determined to stir up a hornet's nest for dave darrin. chapter iii midshipman pennington goes too far at eight o'clock the following morning the various sections were formed and marched to the deck. dave reported: "all present, sir." the chief electrician was now summoned, and to him the section was turned over. this young man, whittam, by name, was an enlisted man, but a bright young sample of what the navy can do for the boy who enlists as an apprentice. "you will take your orders from mr. whittam as though he were an officer," directed the officer, his words intended for all members of the section, though he looked only at darrin. dave saluted, then, as chief electrician whittam turned to lead the way, dave called quietly: "section, left wheel--march!" they followed whittam down into the dynamo room, an interesting spot for a machinist. "it's fine," muttered dan, as he stared about him at the bright metal work, the switch-board and the revolving machines. "but i'm afraid i couldn't learn the use and sense of all this in five years." "silence in the section," commanded dave, turning around upon his chum. whittam now began a short, preliminary talk upon the subjects in which the midshipmen would be required to qualify. "one of the first and most important requests i have to make," said whittam presently, "is that none of you touch the switches, except by direction. none of you can guess the harm that might follow the careless and ignorant handling of a switch." "it's pretty cheeky for an enlisted man to talk to midshipmen about ignorance," whispered pennington to farley. "oh, i don't know--" farley started to reply, but darrin's quiet voice broke in with authority: "cease talking in section." farley knew this to be a merited rebuke, and accepted it as such, but pennington's face went violently red. "confound that grease-spot-chaser," growled pen. "he'll be bound to take it out of me as long as the cruise lasts. but i'll get even with him. no cheap greaser is going to ride over me!" that morning none of the midshipmen were called upon to handle any of the fascinating-looking machinery. nearly the whole of this tour of practical instruction was taken up by the remarks of the chief electrician. as he spoke, whittam moved over to one piece or another of mechanism and explained its uses. finally, he began to question the attentive young men, to see how much of his instruction they had absorbed. "this is a shame, to set an enlisted man up over us as quiz-master, just to see how little we know," growled pennington; but this time he had the good sense not to address his remark to anyone. pennington was not yet in good shape, after his harrowing experiences of the day before. ere the tour of instruction was over, he began to shift somewhat uneasily. then his attention began to wander. a brilliantly shining brass rod near him caught his eye. something about the glossy metal fascinated him. once or twice pen put out his hand to touch the rod, but as quickly reconsidered and drew back his hand. at last, however, the temptation proved too strong. he slid one hand along the rail. "here, sir, don't handle that!" rasped in the voice of whittam. pennington drew back his hand, a flush mounting to his face. "the fellow has no right to talk to a midshipman in that fashion!" quivered pennington to himself. "but it was the fault of that low-minded greaser darrin, anyway. darrin saw me, and he glanced swiftly at the chief electrician to draw attention to me." it is only just to pennington to state that he actually believed he had seen dave do this. darrin, however, was not guilty of the act. he had in no way sought to direct attention at pennington. towards the close of the tour the officer in whose department this instruction fell passed through the dynamo room. "are there any breaches of conduct to be reported, whittam?" inquired the officer, halting. "nothing worth mentioning, sir," replied the chief electrician. "i asked you, whittam, whether there had been any breaches of conduct," retorted the officer with some asperity. "one midshipman, sir, after having been instructed to touch nothing, rested his hand on one of the brass rods." "his name?" "i don't know the names of many of the young gentlemen yet, sir, so i don't know the particular midshipman's name, sir." "then point him out to me," insisted the officer. there was hardly any need to do so. pennington's face, flushed with mortification, was sufficient identification. but the chief electrician stepped over, halting in front of the hapless one, and said: "this is the young gentleman, sir." "your name, sir?" demanded the officer. "pennington, sir." "mr. pennington, you will place yourself on the report, sir, for disobedience of orders," commanded the officer. "is this the only case, whittam?" "the only case, sir." the officer passed out of the dynamo room, leaving the unlucky one more than ever angry with darrin, whom he incorrectly charged with his present trouble. the recall sounding, dave turned to whittam, saying crisply but pleasantly: "thank you for our instruction." "he's thanking the fellow for my new scrape," growled pennington inwardly. dave marched his section back to deck and dismissed it. dan dalzell, as section leader in steam instruction, immediately re-formed it. "you will report in the engine-room, mr. dalzell, to lieutenant-commander forman, who is chief engineer of this ship. he will assign you to an instructor." "aye, aye, sir," dan replied, saluting. "section, right wheel--march!" dan already knew where, down in the bowels of the great battleship, to find the engine room. reaching that department, dan halted his section. "section all present, sir," reported dan, saluting a strange officer, who, however, wore the insignia of a lieutenant-commander. "your name, sir?" inquired the officer. "dalzell, sir." "let your section break ranks. then you may all follow me, and keep your eyes open, for you will go through one or two dark places." "aye, aye, sir. section break ranks." lieutenant-commander forman led the way, with all the members of the section wondering what was to be the nature of their first day's work in the engineer department. descending lower into the ship, the chief engineer led the young middies over a grating, and paused at the head of an iron ladder. "pass down in orderly fashion, single file," directed the chief engineer, halting. "when at the foot of this ladder, cross a grating to port side, and then descend a second ladder, which you will find." all the midshipmen went down the first ladder in silence. dan, who had preceded the others, crossed the grating and found the second ladder. once more these youngsters descended. pennington, as though by mere accident, succeeded in following dave darrin down the ladder. just as they were near the bottom dave felt a foot descend upon his shoulder, almost with a kick, and then rest there with a crushing pressure. it hurt keenly until darrin was able to dodge out from under and hurriedly reach the bottom. "pardon, whoever you are," came a gruff voice. dave, with his shoulder crippled a good deal, and paining keenly, halted as soon as his foot had touched bottom. it was dark down there, though some reflected light came from an incandescent light at a distance. dave waited, to peer into the face of the man who had stepped on his shoulder. it was pennington, of course! "i'll take pains not to go down ahead of you again, or to follow you up a ladder," grunted darrin suspiciously. "oh, are you the man on whose shoulder my foot rested?" asked pennington, with apparent curiosity. "didn't you know it!" questioned darrin, looking straight into the other's eyes. instead of answering intelligibly, pennington turned and walked away a few feet. "perhaps that fellow thinks he's going to vent his spite on me in a lot of petty ways," murmured dave. "if that is the idea he has in his head, he's going to wake up one of these days!" following the last midshipman came lieutenant-commander forman. "after me, gentlemen," directed the chief engineer. he turned down a narrow passage, only a few feet long, and came out in the furnace room. here huge fires glowed through the furnace doors. four of the navy's firemen stood resting on their shovels. instantly, on perceiving the chief engineer, however, the men stood at attention. "pass the word for the chief water tender," ordered the engineer, turning to one of the firemen. the messenger soon came back with a pleasant-faced, stalwart man of forty. "heistand," ordered the chief engineer, "give these members of the first section, third: class, steam instruction, a thorough drill in firing." "aye, aye, sir," replied the chief water tender, saluting. "heistand's orders are mine, mr. dalzell," continued the lieutenant-commander, facing dan. "preserve order in your section." "aye, aye, sir," replied dan, saluting. acknowledging this courtesy in kind, the chief engineer turned and left the furnace room. heistand was presumably of german parentage, though he had no accent. he struck the midshipmen as being a pleasant, wholesome fellow, though the water tenders and firemen of the "massachusetts" knew that he could be extremely strict and grim at need. "you will now, young gentlemen," began heistand, "proceed to learn all about priming a furnace, lighting, building, cleaning and generally taking care of a fire. two furnaces have been left idle for this instruction." but two of the regular firemen now remained in the room. these were ordered to hustle out coal before boilers b and d. then heistand taught the members of the section how to swing a shovel to the best advantage so as to get in a maximum of coal with the least effort. he also illustrated two or three incorrect ways of shoveling coal. "the idea of making coal heavers out of us!" growled a much-disgusted voice. dan did not see who the speaker was, but his eyes flashed as he turned and rasped out: "silence in the section! speak only to ask for information, and then at the proper time." "another young autocrat!" muttered a voice. "wait one moment, please, heistand," begged dan. then, wheeling squarely about, and facing all the members of the section, he declared with emphasis: "if there's any more unauthorized talking i shall feel obliged to pass the word above that discipline is in a bad way in this section." then he wheeled about once more, facing the chief water tender. "now, young gentlemen," resumed the chief water tender, "take your shovels and fill in lively under boilers b and d." three or four times heistand checked one or another of the midshipmen, to show him a more correct way of handling the shovel. yet, in good time, both furnaces were primed. "now, mr. dalzell, please detail four members of the section to follow me with their shovels and bring red coals from under another boiler." dan appointed himself, darrin, farley and pennington. burning coals were brought and thrown into each furnace, and in a little while roaring fires were going. these, though not needed for the handling of the battleship, were permitted to burn for a while, heistand explaining to the section practically the uses of the water gauges and the test cocks. by this time the midshipmen's white working clothes were liberally sprinkled with coal dust and somewhat smeared with oils. "and now, young gentlemen, as we have no further use for these fires, you will next learn how to haul them," announced heistand. this was interesting work, but hot and fast. the implements with which the middies worked soon became red-hot at the end. yet, as all entered into this novel work with zest, the fires had soon been hauled out on to the floor plates. just as the last of this work was being done pennington, as an apparent accident due to excess of zeal, dropped the red-hot end of his implement across the toe of darrin's left shoe. in an instant the leather began to blaze. with swift presence of mind dave stepped his right foot on the flame, smothering it at once. but he was "mad clean through." "see here, pen," he muttered, in a low voice, his eyes blazing fiercely into the other midshipman's, "that is the last piece of impudence that will be tolerated from you." midshipman pennington's lip curled disdainfully. dan had not seen the "accident," but he was near enough to hear the talking, and he caught dave at it. so dan ordered, impartially: "mr. darrin, you will place yourself on report for unauthorized talking in section!" dave flushed still more hotly, but said nothing. midshipman dalzell now marched the section from the furnace room, and dismissed it. it was near noon, and would soon be time for the middies to eat. dave hurried away, washed, changed his uniform, and then stepped away swiftly to place himself on the report. "i was sorry to do that, old chum," murmured dan, as he met dave returning. "but of course i couldn't play favorites. what made you so far forget yourself?" "a something that would have had the same effect on you," retorted dave grimly. thereupon he described pennington's two underhanded assaults that morning. "humph!" muttered dalzell. "that fellow pen is bound to go the whole limit with you." "he won't go much further," declared dave, his eyes flashing. "and the chump ought to know it, too," mused dan. "the class history of the last year should have taught him that. but see here, dave, i don't believe pen will do anything openly. he will construct a series of plausible accidents." "there will be one thing about him that will be open, if he goes any further," retorted dave, "and that will be his face when he collides with my fist." "i hope i see that when it happens," grinned dalzell. "it's bound to be entertaining!" "wait a second, then. here comes pennington now," murmured dave darrin in an undertone. pennington, in his immaculate blue uniform, like the chums, came strolling along the passageway between decks. he affected not to see the chums, and would have passed by. but dave, eyeing him closely, waited until pen was barely three feet away. then darrin said tersely: "mr. pennington, i wish an understanding with you." "i don't want any with you," replied pennington insolently, as he stared at dave from under much-raised eyebrows. he would have gone by, but dave sprang squarely in front of him. "just wait a moment!" warned dave rather imperiously, for he was aglow with justifiable indignation. "well?" demanded pennington halting. "out with it, whatever you may think you have to say." "i have two things to speak about," replied dave, trying to control his voice. "in the first place, while going down the ladders to the furnaces this morning, you stepped on my shoulder." "well!" insisted pennington coldly. "the second thing you did was, when hauling the fires, to drop red-hot metal across one of my shoes, setting it on fire." "well?" insisted pennington more coldly. "if you mean to contend that either one was an accident," resumed dave, "then--" but he found himself obliged to pause for a moment in order to steady his voice. "well?" asked pennington with more insolence than ever. "if you make such pretense in either case," tittered dave darrin, "then you're a liar!" "fellow!" sputtered pennington, turning white with anger. "i mean what i say, and i can back it up," muttered darrin. "then i'll make you eat your words!" roared pennington. clenching his fists and with the boxer's attitude, pen aimed two swift blows at darrin. neither blow reached, however, for dave dodged out of the way. then darrin struck back, a straight, true, forceful blow that landed on the other midshipman's nose, knocking him down. pennington staggered somewhat when he rose, but he was quickly up, none the less, and ready for anything that might happen. all of a sudden dan dalzell felt his own heart going down into his shoes. one of the ship's officers had just entered the passageway, in time to see what was going on. chapter iv a little meeting ashore "stop it, both of you," whispered dan. "stand at attention, ready to salute the officer." pennington, with the blood flowing from his damaged nose, would have made a most ludicrous figure saluting! the instant that he saw such evidence as pen's nose presented the officer would be bound to make inquiries. then, just as surely, his next step must be to border the three before the commandant of midshipmen. fighting carries with it a severe penalty. even dan was certain to be reported, through the mere fact of his presence there, as aiding in a fight. and those who aid are punished as severely as the principals themselves. it was a tense, fearsome instant, for midshipmen have been dismissed from the naval academy for this very offense. the passage was not brilliantly lighted. the on-coming officer, a lieutenant, junior grade, was looking at the floor as he came along. suddenly he paused, seemed lost in thought, then wheeled and walked back whence he had come. dan breathed more easily. dave heaved a sigh of relief. as for pennington, that midshipman had wheeled and was stealing rapidly down the passageway, intent only on escape. "that was the closest squeak we'll ever have without being ragged cold," murmured dalzell tremulously. "where is pennington?" demanded dave, wheeling about after he had watched the naval lieutenant out of sight. "ducked out of sight, like a submarine," chuckled dan. at that moment the call for midshipmen's dinner formation sounded. dave and dan were ready. pennington showed up just after the line had started to march into the midshipmen's mess tables. to the inquiry of the officer in charge, pen lamely explained that he had bumped his nose into something hard in a poorly lighted passageway. though the officer accepted the excuse, he smiled within himself. "it wasn't iron or steel that bumped that young man's nose," thought the officer. "oh, the middies haven't changed a lot since i boned at annapolis!" pennington's nose was no very lovely member of his face at that moment. it had been struck hard, mashed rather flat, and now looked like a red bulb. "meet with an accident, pen?" asked hallam curiously at table. "quit your kidding, please," requested pennington sulkily. that directed the curious glances of other middies at pennington's new bulbous nose. the young man was so brusque about it, however, that other table mates ceased quizzing him. yet, as soon as the meal was over, many a youngster asked others of his class for news regarding pen. but none possessed it. during the brief rest that followed the meal, however, midshipman pennington made it his business to try to meet dave darrin alone. he succeeded, finding dave staring off across the water at the port rail. "of course, mr. darrin," began the other midshipman, in a voice suggestive of ice, "you are aware that the incident of an hour ago cannot be allowed to pass unnoticed." "i don't believe there's any danger of that," retorted darrin, with an ironical glance at pennington's damaged-looking nose. "confound you, sir," hissed the other midshipman, "don't you dare to be insolent with me." "why, i had thought," observed dave, "that, of your own choice, the period of courtesies between us had passed." "i shall call you out, mr. darrin!" "you'll find my hearing excellent," smiled dave. "i shall make but one stipulation." "i'll do you the favor of asking what that stipulation is," sneered pennington. "why, after the narrow escape we had from being caught and reported, an hour or so ago, i shall ask that the fight be held where we are not so likely to be caught at it. i don't care about being dropped from the naval academy, nor do i believe you do." "it would be a good thing for the service, if one of us were to be dropped," sneered pennington. "yes! oh, well, you can easily procure writing materials from the captain's clerk," volunteered dave generously. "on a cruise, i believe, a resignation is sent direct to the commandant of midshipmen." this ridicule served only to fan the flame of pennington's wrath. "darrin," he hissed, "the academy isn't big enough to hold us both!" "but i've already told you how to get out," protested dave coolly. "i don't intend to get out!" "no more do i," rejoined dave. "i won't even toss pennies with you to find out who quits the service." "mr. darrin, you are merely seeking to divert my mind from what i have said." "what did you say--particularly?" "that you would have to fight me." "i have already signified my entire willingness, mr. pennington. to that i really can add nothing." fourth classmen are always addressed as "mister," and they must use the same "handle to the name" when addressing upper classmen. but members of the three upper classes resort to the use of "mister," in addressing classmates, only when they wish to be offensive or nearly so. "i will send a friend to meet you," pennington continued. "why, i thought," bantered darrin ironically, "that you were going to fight me yourself." "so i am--be sure of it. i will amend my statement by saying that i will send a second to see you." "save time by sending him to dalzell." "very good, mr. darrin." "is that all you wished to say to me?" "yes." "very good, mr. pennington." with two very stiff nods the midshipmen parted. pennington hastened at once in search of hallam. "will you serve me, old man?" queried pennington. "sorry, but----" "well, you see, pen, not knowing all the facts of the case, i must admit that all my sympathies are with darrin." "all your sympathies?" echoed pen, frowning. "well, nearly all, anyway. you see, i've known and observed darrin for a full year now, and i don't believe patient old darry is the one to start any trouble." "he called me a liar," protested pennington. "did he?" gasped hallam. "well, he qualified the statement, but his way of saying it was as offensive as the direct lie could have been." "so you're bent on fighting darry?" "i am." "too bad!" muttered hallam, shaking his head. "are you anxious for your idol?" asked pen in a disagreeable tone. "no, penny; it's you that i'm concerned about in my own mind. you're going next to a very hard proposition. darry is patient--almost as patient as the proverbial camel--but when he fights he fights! you'll be hammered to a pulp, pen." "pooh!" "no one has yet beaten darrin at a fist fight." "there always has to be a first time, you know." "and you think you're it?" "as far as darrin is concerned--yes." "too bad--too bad!" sighed hallam. "i'm afraid, penny, that the heat in the furnace room was too much for you this morning." "then you won't serve as one of my seconds?" "the honor is most regretfully declined," replied hallam in a tone of mock sadness. "you want to see darrin win?" "if there has to be a fight, i do," replied midshipman hallam. "don't bet your money on him, anyway." "i'm not a gambler, penny, and i don't bet," replied hallam, with a dignity that, somehow, ended the conversation. pennington had considerable difficulty, at first, in finding a second. at last, however, he induced decker and briggs to represent him. these two midshipmen went to see dan dalzell. "wait until i send for mr. farley," proposed dalzell. he soon had that midshipman, who was wholly willing to serve darrin in any capacity. "we're ready to have the fight this evening," proposed midshipman decker. "we're not," retorted dan, with vigor. "why not?" "this forenoon pennington deliberately stepped on darrin's shoulder, with such force as to lame it a good deal," replied dan. "our man insists that he has a right to rest his shoulder, and to wait until to-morrow." "but to-morrow we have a short shore liberty at hampton roads," remonstrated briggs. "yes; and during that shore liberty we can have the fight more safely than on board ship," insisted dalzell. "but we intended to devote our shore leave to pleasure," objected decker. "you'll find plenty of pleasure, if you accept our proposition," urged dan dryly. "at any rate, we won't hear of darrin fighting before to-morrow. he must have to-night to rest that shoulder." "all right; so be it," growled decker, after a side glance at briggs. "on shore, at some point to be selected by the seconds?" asked dan dalzell. "yes; that's agreed." details as to whom to invite as referee and time-keeper were also arranged. "i suppose we'll have to use up our shore leave that way, then," grunted pennington, when told of the arrangement. "there's one way you can save the day," grinned decker. "how?" "put darrin to sleep in the first round, then hurriedly dress and leave, and enjoy your time on shore." "but darrin is a very able man with his fists," observed pennington. "yes; but you're a mile bigger and heavier, and you're spry, too. you ought to handle him with all the ease in the world." "i don't know," muttered pennington, who didn't intend to make the mistake of bragging in advance. "i'll do my best, of course." "oh, you'll win out, if you're awake," predicted midshipman briggs confidently. when the cadets were called, the following morning, they found the battleship fleet at anchor in hampton roads. chapter v when the seconds wondered one after another the launches sped ashore, carrying their swarms of distinguished looking young midshipmen. the fight party managed to get off all in the same boat, and on one of the earliest trips. pennington was to have ordinary shore leave on the cruise, his fifty demerits to be paid for by loss of privileges on his return to the naval academy. "decker," proposed dan, "you and i can skip away and find a good place in no time. then we can come back after the others." "that's agreeable to me," nodded midshipman decker. in twenty minutes the two seconds were back. "we've found just the place," announced decker. "and it isn't more than three minutes' walk from here. will you all hurry along?" "the place" turned out to be a barn that had not been used for a year or more. the floor was almost immaculately clean. in consideration of two dollars handed him, the owner had agreed to display no curiosity, and not to mention the affair to any one. "how do you like it, darry?" asked dan anxiously. "it will suit me as well as any other place," responded dave, slipping off his blouse, folding it neatly and putting it aside, his uniform cap following. "and you?" asked decker of his man. "the floor's hard, but i don't expect to be the man to hit it," replied pennington. in five minutes both midshipmen were attired for their "affair." between them the different members of the party had smuggled ashore shoes, old trousers and belts for the fighters. it being a class affair, remington, of the third class, had come along as referee, while dawley; was to be the time-keeper. "if the principals are ready, let them step forward," ordered midshipman remington, going to the middle of the floor. "now, i understand that this is to be a finish fight; rounds, two minutes; rests, two minutes. i also understand that the principals do not care to shake hands before the call to mix up." darrin and pennington nodded their assent. "take your places, gentlemen," ordered the referee quickly. "are you ready, gentlemen?" "yes," came from both principals. "time!" both men had their guards up. as the word left the referee's lips each tried two or three passes which the other blocked. midshipman pennington was trying to take his opponent's "measure." then dave ducked, darted, dodged and wheeled about. pennington had to follow him, and it made the latter angry. "stand up and fight, can't you," hissed pen. "silence during the rounds, mr. pennington," admonished the referee quietly. "let the officials do all the talking that may be necessary." dave, as he dodged again, and came up unscathed, grinned broadly over this rebuke. that grin made pen angrier than anything else could have done. "i'll wipe that grin off his face!" muttered pennington angrily. and this very thing pennington tried hard to do. he was quick on his own feet, and for a few seconds he followed the dodging darrin about, raining in blows that required all of dave's adroitness to escape. dave's very success, however, made his opponent all the angrier. from annoyance, followed by excessive irritation, pennington went into almost blind rage--and the man who does that, anywhere in life, must always pay for it. suddenly dave swung his right in on the point of pen's chin with a force that jolted the larger midshipman. as part of the same movement, darrin's left crashed against pennington's nose. then, out of chivalry, dave dropped back, to give pen a few moments, in case he needed them, to get his wits back. "time!" roared dawley, and pennington's seconds pounced upon him and bore him away to his corner. "now i know how that fellow darrin wins his fights," growled pennington in an undertone. "he keeps on running away until he has the other man gasping for breath. then darrin jumps in and wins." "the method doesn't much matter," commented briggs dryly, as he and decker worked over their man. "it's the result that counts. rush darry into a tight corner, pen, and then slam him hard and sufficiently." "thanks, fellows; now i'm all right for the second round." muttered midshipman pennington. in a few seconds more dave and his opponent were hard at work. dave still used his footwork, and most cleverly. yet, wherever he went, pen followed him nimbly. it didn't look so one sided now. then pennington, at last, managed to deliver one blow on darrin's right short ribs. it took a lot of dave's spare wind; he raced about, seeking to regain his wind before allowing close quarters. but at last pennington closed in again, and, after a swift feint, tried to land the same short-rib blow. darrin was watching, and blocked. then, his temples reddening with anger, dave swung in a huge one that crashed in under pennington's right ear. "time!" shouted dawley, just as pen went to the floor in a heap. that saved the larger midshipman from having to take the count. his seconds had him ready at the call for the third round. now, suddenly, darrin seemed to change not only his tactics, but his whole personality. to his opponent dave seemed suddenly transformed into a dancing demon. it was about the same old footwork, but it was aggressive now, instead of being defensive. first, dave landed a light tap on the already suffering nose. a few seconds later he landed on the point of pen's chin, though not hard enough to send his man down. then a rather light blow on the jaw, just under pen's right ear again. the larger midshipman was now thoroughly alarmed. he feared that darrin could do whatever he willed, and shivered with wonder as to when the knockout blow would come. the truth was, pennington was still putting up a better battle than he himself realized, and darrin was not disposed to take any foolish chances through rushing the affair. thus, the third round ended. by the time that they came up for the fourth round, after both men had undergone some vigorous handling by their respective seconds, pennington was a good deal revived and far more confident. dave's tactics were the same in the fourth round. pennington didn't find time to develop much in the way of tactics for himself, save to defend himself. during the first minute no important blows were landed on either side. then, suddenly, dave darted in and under, and brought a right-arm hook against pen's nose in a way that started that member to bleeding again, and with a steady flow. that jarred the larger midshipman. he plunged in, heavily and blindly, blocking one of darrin's blows by wrapping both arms around him. "none of that, mr. pennington! break away fast!" ordered midshipman remington quickly. dave took a fair get away, not attempting to strike as the clinch was broken. but an instant later dave came back, dancing all around his dazed opponent, landing on the short ribs, on the breast bone, under either ear and finally on the tip of the chin. pen was sure that none of these blows had been delivered with the force that darrin could have sent in. "time!" shouted midshipman dawley. the principals retired to their corners, pennington almost wholly afraid from the conviction that his antagonist was now merely playing with him to keep the interest going. so pennington was still rather badly scared when the two came together for the fifth round. "get lively, now, gentlemen, if you can," begged referee remington. "finish this one way or the other, and let us get some of the benefits of our shore leave." pen started by putting more steam behind every blow. dave, who had used up so much of his wind by his brilliant footwork, began to find it harder to keep the upper hand. twice, however, he managed to land body blows. he was trying to drive in a third when pennington blocked, following this with a left-arm jab on darrin's left jaw that sent the lighter man to the floor. instantly dawley began to count off the seconds. "--seven, eight, nine, te----" dave was up on his feet. pen tried to make a quick rush, but darrin dodged cleverly, them wheeled and faced his opponent as the latter wheeled about. after that there was less footwork. both men stood up to it, as keenly alert as they could be, each trying to drive home heavy blows. while they were still at it the call of time sounded. "don't let him put it over you, david, little giant!" warned dan, as the latter and farley vigorously massaged darrin's muscles. "he all but had you, and there isn't any need of making pen a present of the meeting." "i tried to get him," muttered dave in an undertone, "and i shall go on trying to the last. but pennington is pretty nearly superior to anyone in my class." "just waltz in and show him," whispered dalzell, as the call sounded. pennington entered the sixth round with more confidence. he began, at the outset, to drive in heavy blows, nor did dave do much dodging. bump! twenty-five seconds only of this round had gone when darrin landed his right fist with fearful force upon the high point of pennington's jaw. down went the larger midshipman again. this time he moaned. his eyes were open, though they had a somewhat glassy look in them. dawley was counting off the seconds in measured tones. "--seven, eight, nine--ten!" pen had struggled to rise to his feet, but sank back with a gasp of despair and rage. "mr. pennington loses the count and the fight," announced referee remington coolly. "i don't believe we're needed here, dawley. the seconds can handle the wreck. come along." as the two officials of the meeting hustled out of the barn, dalzell gave his attention to helping his chum, while farley went over to offer his services in getting the vanquished midshipman into shape. "there were times when i could have closed both of pennington's eyes," murmured dave to dan. "but i didn't want to give him any disfiguring marks that would start questions on board ship." "you had him whipped from the start," murmured dan confidently, as he sprayed, then rubbed dave's chest and arms. "maybe, but i'm not so sure of that," rejoined darrin. "that fellow isn't so easy a prize for any one in my class. there were times when i was all but convinced that he had me." "oh, fairy tales!" grunted dan. "have it your own way, then, danny boy!" when darrin and his seconds left the barn they went off to enjoy what remained of the shore leave. pennington's seconds finally, at his own request, left him at an ice cream parlor, where he proposed to remain until he could return to the big, steel "massachusetts" without exciting any wonder over the little time he had remained ashore. pennington had strength to walk about, but he was far from being in really good shape, and preferred to keep quiet. chapter vi in trouble on foreign soil from hampton roads the battleship squadron, with the midshipmen on board, sailed directly for plymouth, england. during most of the voyage over slow cruising speed was used. by the time that england's coast was sighted the third-class middies found they knew much more about a battleship than they had believed to be possible at the start of the voyage. they had served as firemen; they had mastered many of the electrical details of a battleship; they had received instruction and had "stood trick" by the engines; there had been some drill with the smaller, rapid-fire guns, and finally, they had learned at least the rudiments of "wig-wagging," as signaling by means of signal flags is termed. it was just before the call to supper formation when england's coast loomed up. most of the midshipmen stood at the rail, watching eagerly for a better glimpse at the coast. some of the midshipmen, especially those who came from wealthier families, had been in england before entering the naval academy. these fortunate ones were questioned eagerly by their comrades. the battleships were well in sight of eastern king point when the midshipmen's call for supper formation sounded. feeling that they would much have preferred to wait for their supper, the young men hastened below. after the line was formed it seemed to the impatient young men as though it had never taken so long to read the orders. yet there came one welcome order, to the effect that, immediately after the morning meal, all midshipmen might go to the pay officer and draw ten dollars, to be charged against their pay accounts. "that ten dollars apiece looms up large david, little giant," murmured dan dalzell, while the evening meal was in progress. "we ought to have a lot of fun on it," replied darrin, who was looking forward with greatest eagerness to his first visit to any foreign soil. "but how much shore leave are we to have?" "two days, the word is. we'll get it straight in the morning, at breakfast formation." in defiance of regulations, midshipman pennington, whose father was wealthy, had several hundred dollars concealed in his baggage. he had already invited hallam, mossworth and dickey to keep in his wake on shore, and these young men had gladly enough agreed. "say, but we're slackening speed!" quivered dalzell, when the meal was nearly finished. "headway has stopped," declared darrin a few moments later. "listen, everyone!" called farley. "don't you hear the rattle of the anchor chains?" "gentlemen, as we're forbidden to make too much racket," proposed irrepressible dan, "let us give three silent cheers for old england!" rising in his place, dan raised his hand aloft, and brought it down, as his lips silently formed a "hurrah!" three times this was done, each time the lips of the midshipmen forming a silent cheer. then dan, with a mighty swoop of his right arm, let his lips form the word that everyone knew to be "tiger!" "ugh-h-h!" groaned midshipman reilly. "throw that irresponsible fenian out!" directed dan, grinning. then the midshipmen turned their attention to the remnants of the meal. boom! sounded sharply overhead. "there goes the twenty-one-gunner," announced darrin. when a foreign battleship enters a fortified port the visiting fleet, or rather, its flagship, fires a national salute of twenty-one guns. after a short interval following the discharge of the last gun, one of the forts on shore answers with twenty-one guns. this is one of the methods of observing the courtesies between nations by their respective fleets. ere all the guns had been fired from the flagship, the third classmen received the rising signal; the class marched out and was dismissed. instantly a break was made for deck. the midshipmen were in good time to see the smoke and hear the roar of guns from one of the forts on shore. in the morning the commandant of cadets, as commanding officer of the squadron, would go ashore with his aide and pay a formal call to the senior military officer. later in the day that english officer and one or two of his staff officers would return the call by coming out to the flagship. that accomplished, all the required courtesies would have been observed. it was still broad daylight, for in summer the english twilight is a long one, and darkness does not settle down until late. "oh, if we were only going ashore to-night!" murmured hallam. there were many others to echo the thought, but all knew that it could not be done. "couldn't we find a trick for slipping ashore after lights out?" eagerly queried dickey, who was not noted as a "greaser." "could we?" quivered hallam, who, with few demerits against him, felt inclined to take a chance. but pennington, to whom he appealed, shook his head. "too big a risk, hally," replied pen. "and trebly dangerous, with that greaser, darrin, in the class." "oh, stow that," growled hallam. "darrin is no greaser. you've got him on your black books--that's all." "he is a greaser, i tell you," cried pennington fiercely. there were a score of midshipmen in this group, and many of them nodded approvingly at pennington's statement. though still a class leader, dave had lost some of his popularity since his report to the police of annapolis. so the middies turned in, that night, with unsatisfied dreams of shore life in england. soon after breakfast the next morning, however, every midshipman had drawn his ten dollars, even to pennington, who had no use for such a trifling amount. as fast as possible the launches ranged alongside at the side gangway, taking off groups of midshipmen, everyone of whom had been cautioned to be at dock in time to board a launch in season for supper formation. pennington and his party were among the first to land. they hurried away. it was on the second trip of one of the launches that dave, dan and farley made their get away. these three chums had agreed to stick together during the day. they landed at the great western docks, to find themselves surrounded by eager british cabbies. "are we going to take a cab and get more quickly and intelligently to the best part of the town to see?" asked farley. "i don't vote for it," replied darrin. "we have only five dollars apiece for each of the two days we're to be ashore. i move that we put in the forenoon, anyway, in prowling about the town for ourselves. we'll learn more than we would by riding." "come on, then," approved dan. plymouth is an old-fashioned english seaport that has been rather famous ever since the thirteenth century. many parts of the town, including whole streets, look as though the houses had been built since that time. this is especially true of many of the streets near the water front. for two hours the three middies roamed through the streets, often meeting fellow classmen. wherever the young midshipmen went many of the english workmen and shopkeepers raised their hats in friendly salute of the american uniform. "we don't seem to run across pen's gang anywhere," remarked farley at last. "oh, no," smiled dave. "that's a capitalistic crowd. they'll hit only the high spots." nevertheless, these three poor-in-purse midshipmen enjoyed themselves hugely in seeing the quaint old town. at noon they found a real old english chop house, where they enjoyed a famous meal. "i wish we could slip some of these little mutton pies back with us!" sighed dan wistfully. in the afternoon the three chums saw the newer market place, where all three bought small souvenirs for their mothers at home. darrin also secured a little remembrance present for his sweetheart, belle meade. the guild hall and some of the other famous buildings were visited. later in the afternoon dave began to inspect his watch every two or three minutes. "no need for us to worry, with dave's eye glued to his watch," laughed dan. "come on, fellows," summoned darrin finally. "we haven't more than time now to make the dock and get back to supper formation." "take a cab?" asked farley. "you know, we've found that they're vastly cheaper than american cabs." "no-o-o, not for me," decided dave. "we'll need the rest of our shore money to-morrow, and our legs are good and sturdy." yet even careful dave, as it turned out, had allowed no more than time. the chums reached the dock in time to see the launches half way between the fleet and shore. some forty other midshipmen stood waiting on the dock. among these were pennington and his party, all looking highly satisfied with their day's sport, as indeed they were. pennington's eyes gleamed when he caught sight of darrin, dalzell and farley--for pen had a scheme of his own in mind. not far from pennington stood a little englishman with keen eyes and a jovial face. pen stepped over to him. "there are the three midshipmen i was telling you about," whispered pennington, slipping a half sovereign into the englishman's hand. "you thoroughly understand your part in the joke, don't you?" "don't h'i, though--just, sir!" laughed the undersized englishman, and strolled away. darrin and his friends were soon informed by classmates that the launches now making shore-ward were coming in on their last trip for midshipmen. "well, we're here in plenty of time," sighed dave contentedly. "oh, i knew we'd be, with you holding the watch," laughed dan in his satisfied way. as the three stood apart they were joined by the undersized englishman, who touched his hat to them with a show of great respect. "young gentlemen," he inquired, "h'i suppose, h'of course, you've 'ad a look h'at the anchor h'of sir francis drake's flagship, the time 'e went h'out h'and sank the great spanish h'armada?" "why, no, my friend," replied dave, looking at the man with interest. "is that here at plymouth?" "h'assuredly, sir. h'and h'only a minute's walk h'over to that shed yonder, sir. h'if you'll come with me, young gentlemen, h'i'll show h'it to you. h'it's one of h'our biggest sights, h'and it's in me own custody, at present. come this way, young gentlemen." "that sounds like something worth seeing," declared dave to his comrades. "come along. it'll take the launches at least six minutes to get in, and then they'll stay tied up here for another five minutes." with only a single backward glance at the young midshipmen, the undersized englishman was already leading the way. at quickened pace the young midshipmen reached the shed that had been indicated. their guide had already drawn a key from a pocket, and had unsnapped the heavy padlock. "step right in, young gentlemen, h'and h'i'll follow h'and show h'it to you." unsuspecting, the three middies stepped inside the darkened shed. suddenly the door banged, and a padlock clicked outside. "here, stop that, you rascally joker!" roared dalzell, wheeling about. "what does this mean?" "big trouble!" spoke dave darrin seriously and with a face from which the color was fast receding. chapter vii pennington gets his wish "the scoundrel!" gasped farley, his face whiter than any of the others. dave was already at the door, trying to force it open. but he might almost as well have tried to lift one of the twelve-inch guns of the battleship "massachusetts." "we're locked in--that's sure!" gasped dalzell, almost dazed by the catastrophe. "and what's more, we won't get out in a hurry, unless we can make some of our classmates hear," declared dave. for the next half minute they yelled themselves nearly hoarse, but no response came. "what could have been that little cockney's purpose in playing this shabby trick on us?" demanded farley. "perhaps the cockney thinks we're admirals, with our pockets lined with gold. perhaps he and some of his pals intend to rob us, later in the evening," proposed dan, with a ghastly grin. "any gang would find something of a fight on their hands, then," muttered dave darrin grimly. all three were equally at a loss to think of any explanation for such a "joke" as this. equally improbable did it seem that any thugs of the town would expect to reap any harvest from robbing three midshipmen. desperately they turned to survey their surroundings. the shed was an old one, yet strongly built. there were no windows, no other door save that at which the three middies now stood baffled. "another good old yell," proposed darrin. it was given with a lusty will, but proved as fruitless as the former one. "we don't take the last launch back to ship," declared farley, wild with rage. "which means a long string of demerits," said dan. "no shore leave to-morrow, either," groaned darrin. "fellows, this mishap will affect our shore leave throughout all the cruise." "we can explain it," suggested farley with a hopefulness that he did not feel at all. "of course we can," jeered dave darrin. "but what officer is fool enough to believe such a cock-and-bull story as this one will seem? at the very least, the commandant would believe that we had been playing some pretty stiff prank ourselves, in order to get treated in this fashion. no, no, fellows! we may just as well undeceive ourselves, and prepare to take the full soaking of discipline that we're bound to get. if we attempted this sort of explanation, we'd be lucky indeed to get through the affair without being tried by general court-martial for lying." "drake's anchor, indeed!" exclaimed dan in deep self disgust. "we ought to have known better," grunted farley, equally enraged with himself. "what on earth made us so absent-minded as to believe that a priceless relic would be kept in an old shed like this?" "we're sure enough idiots!" groaned dan. "hold on there, fellows," interrupted dave darrin. "vent all your anger right on me. i'm the great and only cause of this misfortune. it was i who proposed that we take up that cockney's invitation. i'm the real and only offender against decent good sense, and yet you both have to suffer with me." "let's give another yell, bigger than before," suggested dan weakly. they did, but with no better result than before. "the launches are away now, anyway, i guess," groaned farley, after consulting his watch. "yes, and we're up the tree with the commandant," grunted dalzell bitterly. "yell again?" asked farley. "no," retorted dave, shaking his head. "we've seen the uselessness of asking help from outside. let's supply our own help. now, then--altogether! shoulder the door!" a savage assault they hurled upon the door. but they merely caused it to vibrate. "we can't do it," gasped dan, after the third trial. considerable daylight filtered in through the cracks at top, bottom and one side of the door. further back in the shed there was less light. "let's explore this old place in search of hope," begged dave. together they started back, looking about keenly in what appeared to be an empty room. "say! look at that!" cried dave suddenly. he pointed to a solid looking, not very heavy ship's spar. "what good will that thing do us?" asked farley rather dubiously. "let's see if we can raise it to our shoulders," proposed dave darrin radiantly. "then well find out!" "hurrah!" quivered dan dalzell, bending over the spar at the middle. "up with it!" commanded darrin, placing himself at the head of the spar. farley took hold at the further end. "up with it!" heaved midshipman darrin. right up the spar went. it would have been a heavy job for three young men of their size in civil life, but midshipmen are constantly undergoing the best sort of physical training. "now, then--a fast run and a hard bump!" called darrin. at the door they rushed, bearing the spar as a battering ram. bump! the door shook and shivered. "once more may do it!" cheered darrin. "back." again they dashed the head of their battering ram against the door. it gave way, and, climbing through, they raced back to the pier. but dan, who had secured the lead, stopped with a groan, pointing out over the water. "not a bit of good, fellows! there go the launches, and we're the only fellows left! it's all up with our summer's fun!" "is it, though?" shouted dave, spurting ahead. "come on and find out!" as they reached the front of the piers, down at the edge of a landing stage they espied a little steam tender. "that boat has to take us out to the 'massachusetts'!" cried darrin desperately, as he plunged down the steps to the landing stage, followed by his two chums. [illustration: the three midshipmen raced toward the pier.] "who's the captain here?" called dave, racing across the landing stage to the tender's gangplank. "i am, sir," replied a portly, red-faced englishman, leaning out of the wheel-house window. "what'll you charge to land us in haste aboard the american battleship 'massachusetts'?" asked darrin eagerly. "half a sov. will be about right, sir," replied the tender's skipper, touching his cap at sight of the american naval uniform. "good enough," glowed dave, leaping aboard. "cast off as quickly as you can, captain, or we'll be in a heap of trouble with our discipline officers." the english skipper was quick to act. he routed out two deckhands, who quickly cast off. almost while the deckhands were doing this the skipper rang the engineer's bell. "come into the wheel-'ouse with me," invited the skipper pleasantly, which invitation the three middies accepted. "now, then, young gentlemen, 'ow did it 'appen that you missed your own launches." "it was a mean trick--a scoundrelly one!" cried darrin resentfully. then he described just what had happened. the skipper's own bronzed cheeks burned to a deeper color. "i can 'ardly believe that an englishman would play such a trick on young h'officers of a friendly power," he declared. "but i told you, sir, the fare out to your ship would be half a sov. i lied. if a nasty little cockney played such a trick on you, it's my place, as a decent englishman, to take you out for nothing--and that's the fare." "oh, we'll gladly pay the half sov." protested darrin. "not on this craft you can't, sir," replied the skipper firmly. looking eagerly ahead, the three middies saw two of the launches go along side of the "massachusetts" and discharge passengers. as the second left the side gangway the briton, who had been crowding on steam well, ranged in along side. "what craft is that, and what do you want?" hailed the officer of the deck, from above. "the tender 'lurline,' sir, with three of your gentlemen to put h'aboard of you, sir," the briton bellowed through a window of the wheel-house. "very good, then. come alongside," directed the officer of the deck. in his most seamanlike style the briton ranged alongside. dave tried to press the fare upon the skipper, but he would have none of that. so the three shook hands swiftly but heartily with him, then sprang across to the side gangway, where they paused long enough to lift their caps to this stranger and friend. the briton lifted his own cap, waving it heartily, ere he fell off and turned about. "you didn't get aboard any too soon, gentlemen," remarked the officer of the deck, eyeing the three middies keenly as they came up over the side, doffing their uniform caps to the colors. "hustle for the formation." midshipman pennington was chuckling deeply over the supposed fact that he had at last succeeded in bringing darrin in for as many demerits as darrin had helped heap upon him. "that'll break his heart as an avowed greaser," pen told himself. "with all the demerits darrin will get, he'll have no heart for greasing the rest of this year. it's rough on farley, but i'm not quite as sorry for dalzell, who, in his way, is almost as bad as darrin. he's darrin's cuckoo and shadow, anyway. oh, i wish i could see darrin's face now!" this last was uttered just as midshipman pennington stepped into line at the supper formation. "i wish i could see darrin's face now!" pen repeated to himself. seldom has a wish been more quickly gratified. for, just in the nick of time to avoid being reported, midshipmen darrin, dalzell and farley came into sight, falling into their respective places. at that instant it was midshipman pennington's face, not dave darrin's, that was really worth studying. "now how did the shameless greaser work this!" pennington pondered uneasily. but, of course, he couldn't ask. he could only hope that, presently, he would hear the whole story from some other man in the class. chapter viii the tragedy of the gale there is altogether too much to the summer practice cruise for it to be related in detail. nor would the telling of it prove interesting to the reader. when at sea, save on sundays, the midshipman's day is one of hard toil. it is no life for the indolent young man. he is routed out early in the morning and put at hard work. on a midshipman's first summer cruise what he learns is largely the work that is done by the seamen, stokers, water tenders, electricians, the signal men and others. yet he must learn every phase of all this work thoroughly, for some day, before he becomes an officer, he must be examined as to his knowledge of all this great mass of detail. it is only when in port that some relaxation comes into the midshipman's life. he has shore leave, and a large measure of liberty. yet he must, at all times, show all possible respect for the uniform that he wears and the great nation that he represents. if a midshipman permits himself to be led into scrapes that many college boys regard as merely "larks," he is considered a disgrace to the naval service. always, at home and abroad, the "middy" must maintain his own dignity and that of his country and service. should he fail seriously, he is regarded by his superiors and by the navy department as being unfit to defend the honor of his flag. the wildest group from the summer practice fleet was that made up of pennington and his friends. pen received more money in france from his fond but foolish father. wherever pennington's group went, they cut a wide swath of "sport," though they did nothing actually dishonorable. yet they were guilty of many pranks which, had the midshipmen been caught, would have resulted in demerits. ports in france, spain, portugal and italy were touched briefly. at some of these ports the midshipmen received much attention. but at last the fleet turned back past gibraltar, and stood on for the azores, the last landing point before reaching home. when two nights out from gibraltar a sharp summer gale overtook the fleet. even the huge battleships labored heavily in the seas, the "massachusetts" bringing up the rear. she was in the same position when the morning broke. the midshipmen, after breakfast, enjoyed a few minutes on the deck before going below for duty in the engine rooms, the dynamo room, the "stoke hole" and other stations. suddenly, from the stern rail, there went up the startled cry: "man overboard!" in an instant the marine sentry had tumbled two life-preservers over into the water. with almost the swiftness of telegraphy the cry had reached the bridge. without stopping to back the engine the big battleship's helm was thrown hard over, and the great steel fighting craft endeavored to find her own wake in the angry waters with a view to going back over it. signal men broke out the news to the flagship. the other two great battleships turned and headed back in the interests of humanity. it seemed almost as though the entire fleet had been swung out of its course by pressure on an electric button. officers who were not on duty poured out. the captain was the first to reach the quarter-deck. he strode into the midst of a group of stricken-looking midshipmen. "who's overboard!" demanded the commanding officer. "hallam, sir----" "and darrin, sir----" "and dalzell, sir----" "how many?" demanded the captain sharply. "three, sir." "how did so many fall overboard?" "mr. hallam was frolicking, sir," reported midshipman farley, "and lost his footing." "but mr. darrin and mr. dalzell?" inquired the captain sharply. "as soon as they realized it, sir, darrin and dalzell leaped overboard to go to hallam's rescue, sir." "it's a wonder," muttered the captain, glancing shrewdly at the bronzed, fine young fellows around him, "that not more of you went overboard as well." "many of them would, sir," replied farley, "but an officer forward shouted: 'no more midshipmen go overboard,' so we stopped, sir." modest mr. farley did not mention the fact that he was running toward the stern, intent on following his chums into the rough sea at the very instant when the order reached him. the captain, however, paused for no more information. he was now running forward to take the bridge beside the watch officer. the midshipmen, too, hurried forward, mingling with the crew, as the big battleship swung around and tried to find her wake. the flagship had crowded on extra steam, and was fast coming over the seas. with such a sea running, it was well nigh impossible to make out so small a thing as a head or a life-preserver, unless it could be observed at the instant when it crested a wave. marine glasses were in use by every officer who had brought his pair to the deck. others rushed back to their cabins to get them. a lieutenant of the marine corps stood forward, close to a big group of sorrowing midshipmen. "there are certain to be three vacancies in the naval academy," remarked the lieutenant. "don't say that, sir," begged farley, in a choking voice. "the three overboard are among the finest fellows in the brigade!" "i don't want to discourage any of you young gentlemen," continued the marine corps lieutenant. "but there's just about one chance in a thousand that we shall be able to sight and pick up any one of the unlucky three. in the first place, it would take a wonderful swimmer to live long in such a furious sea. in the second place, if all three are still swimming, it will be almost out of the question to make out their heads among the huge waves. you've none of you seen a man overboard before in a big sea?" several of the mute, anxious midshipmen shook their heads. "you'll realize the difficulties of the situation within the next few minutes," remarked the lieutenant. "i am sorry to crush your hopes for your classmates, but this is all a part of the day's work in the navy." the largest steam launches from all three of the battleships were being swiftly lowered. officers and men were lowered with the launches. as the launch shoved off from each battleship tremendous cheers followed them. "stop all unnecessary noise!" bellowed the watch officer from the bridge of the "massachusetts." "you may drown out calls for help with your racket." while the three battleships went back over their courses in more stately fashion, the launches darted here and there, until it seemed as though they must cover every foot within a square mile. "i don't see how they can help finding the three," farley declared hopefully. "that is," put in another third classman, "if any of the three are still afloat." "stow all talk of that sort," ordered farley angrily. other midshipmen joined in with their protests. when a man is overboard in an angry sea all hands left behind try to be optimists. when fifteen minutes had been spent in the search the onlooking but helpless middies began to look worried. at the end of half an hour some of them looked haggard. farley's face was pitiable to see. at the end of an hour of constant but fruitless searching hardly any one felt any hope of a rescue now. all three midshipmen, the "man overboard" and his two willing, would-be rescuers, were silently conceded to be drowned. yet the hardest blow of all came when, at the end of an hour and a quarter, the flagship signaled the recall of the small boats. then, indeed, all hope was given up. in an utter human silence, save for the husky voicing of the necessary orders, the launches were hoisted on board. then the flagship flew the signal for resuming the voyage. there were few dry eyes among the third class midshipmen when the battleships fell in formation again and proceeded on their way. as a result of more signals flown from the flagship, all unnecessary duties of midshipmen for the day were ordered suspended. in the afternoon the chaplain on each battleship held funeral services over the three lost midshipmen. officers, middies and crew attended on board each vessel. chapter ix the despair of the "recall" dave darrin stood within ten feet of hallam when that latter midshipman had lost his balance and fallen into the boiling sea. dave's spring to the stern rail was all but instantaneous. he was overboard, after his classmate, ere the marine had had time to leap to the life buoys. out of the corner of one eye dan dalzell saw the marine start on the jump, but dan was overboard, also, too soon to see exactly what the marine sentry was doing. both daring midshipmen sank beneath the surface as they struck. as dan came up, however, his hand struck something solid and he clutched at it. it was one of the life buoys. as he grasped it, and drew his head up a trifle, dan saw another floating within thirty feet of him. swimming hard, and pushing, dan succeeded in reaching the other buoy. he now rested, holding on to both buoys. "now, where's david, that little giant?" muttered dalzell, striving hard to see through the seething waters and over the tops of foam-crested waves. after a few minutes dan began to feel decidedly nervous. "yet dave can't have gone down, for he's a better swimmer than i am," was dan's consoling thought. at last dalzell caught sight of another head. he could have cheered, but he expended his breath on something more sensible. "dave!" he shouted. "old darry! this way! i have the life buoys." at the same time, holding to both of them, but kicking frantically with his feet, dalzell managed slowly to push the buoys toward dave. soon after he had started, dan did utter a cheer, even though it was checked by an inrush of salt water that nearly strangled him. he saw two heads. dave darrin was coming toward him, helping hallam. the wind carried the cheer faintly to dave. he raised his head a little in the water, and caught sight of dan and the buoys. some three minutes it took the two chums to meet. dave darrin was all but exhausted, for hallam was now unconscious. as darrin clutched at the buoy he tried to shout, though the voice came weakly: "catch hold of hallam. i'm down and----" but dan understood, even before he heard. while dave clutched at one of the life buoys dalzell shot out an arm, dragging hallam in to safety. now, it was darrin who, with both arms, contrived to link the buoys together. at last the youngsters had a chance to observe the fact that the battleships had put about and were coming back. "we'll soon be all right," sighed dave contentedly, as soon as he could speak. "there are thirty-five hundred officers, middies and sailors of the american navy to look after our safety." from where they lay as they hung to the buoys the chums could even see the launches lowered. dan, with some of the emergency lashing about the buoy, succeeded, after a good deal of effort, and with some aid from dave, in passing a cord about hallam and under the latter's armpits that secured that midshipman to one of the buoys. the next move of the chums was to lash the buoys together. "now," declared dave, "we can't lose. we can hang on and be safe here for hours, if need be." "but what a thundering long time it takes them to bring the battleships around to get to us!" murmured midshipman dalzell in wonder. "be sure not an unnecessary second has been lost," rejoined dave. "we're learning something practical now about the handling of big craft." "i wonder if hally's a goner?" murmured dan in an awe-struck voice. "i don't believe it," dave answered promptly. "once we get him back aboard ship the medicos will do a little work over him and he'll sit up and want to know if dinner's ready." then they fell silent, for, with the roar of wind and waters, it was necessary for them to shout when they talked. as the minutes went by slowly, the two conscious midshipmen found themselves filled with amazement. a dozen times the launches darted by, not far away. it seemed impossible that the keen, restless eyes of the seekers should not discover the imperiled ones. at such times dave and dan shouted with all the power of their lusty young lungs. alternately dan and dave tried the effect of rising as far as they could and frantically waving an arm. there was not a cap to wave among the three of them. "i'm beginning to feel discouraged," grunted dave in disgust at last. "they must have spent a full half day already looking for us." "merciful powers!" gasped dan at last, as they rode half way up the slope of a big wave. "i just caught sight of the 'recall of boats' flying from the flagship!" "no!" gasped dave incredulously. "yes, i did!" "but--" "they've failed and have given up the search," spoke dan rather despairingly. "but--" "we may as well face it," muttered dan brokenly. "they don't believe that any of us has survived, and we've been abandoned." "then," spoke dave darrin very coolly, "there's nothing left for us but to die like men of the american navy." "it seems heartless, needless," protested dan. "no," broke in darrin. "they've done their best. they're convinced that we're lost. and i should think they would be, after all the time they've searched for us--half a day, at least." dan said nothing, but tugged until he succeeded in bringing his watch up to the light. "the blamed thing is water-logged," he uttered disgustedly. "why?" "the hands point to less than half past nine!" darrin managed to get at his own watch. "my timepiece doesn't call for half past nine, either," he announced. "can it be possible--" "yes; the time has only seemed longer, i reckon," observed dalzell. "well, we'll face it like men," proposed dave. "of course," nodded dan. "at least, we're going down in the ocean, and we wear the american naval uniform. if there's any choice in deaths, i guess that's as good and manly a one as we could choose." "poor old hally won't know much about it, anyway, i guess," remarked darrin, who seemed unnaturally cool. possibly he was a bit dazed by the stunning nature of the fate that seemed about to overtake them. "maybe the ships will go by us in their final get-away," proposed dan dalzell very soberly. "not if i'm seaman enough to read the compass by what's visible of the sun," returned midshipman darrin. "then there's no help for it," answered dan, choking slightly. "i wonder if we could do anything for hallam?" "we won't do anything to bring him to, anyway," muttered darrin. "under these circumstances i wouldn't do anything as mean as that to a dog!" "maybe he's dead already, anyway," proposed dan, now hopefully. "i hope so," came from darrin. now they saw the not very distant battleships alter their courses and steam slowly away. all was now desolation over the angry sea, as the battleships gradually vanished. the two conscious midshipmen were now resolved to face the end bravely. that was all they could do for themselves and their flag. chapter x the grim watch from the waves by the time that little more than the mastheads of the departing battleships were visible, hallam opened his eyes. it would have seemed a vastly kinder fate had he been allowed to remain unconscious to the last. hallam had not been strangled by the inrush of water. in going overboard, this midshipman had struck the water with the back of his head and had been stunned. in the absence of attention he had remained a long time unconscious. even now the hapless midshipman whose frollicking had been the cause of the disaster, did not immediately regain his full senses. "why, we're all in the water," he remarked after a while. "yes," assented darrin, trying to speak cheerfully. midshipman hallam remained silent for some moments before he next asked: "how did it happen?" "fell overboard," replied dan laconically, failing to mention who it was who had fallen over the stern. again a rather long silence on hallam's part. then, at last, he observed: "funny how we all fell over at the same time." to this neither of his classmates made any rejoinder. "see here," shouted hallam, after a considerable period of silent wondering, "i remember it all now. i was fooling at the stern rail and i toppled overboard." dan nodded without words. "and you fellows jumped in after me," roared hallam, both his mental and bodily powers now beginning to return. "didn't you?" "of course," assented darrin rather reluctantly. "and what became of the fleet!" dave and dan looked at each other before the former replied: "oh, well, hally, brace up! the ships searched for us a long time, and some launches were put out after us. but they couldn't see our little heads above the big waves, and so----" "they've gone away and left us?" queried hallam, guessing at once. "now, fellows, i don't mind so much for myself, but it's fearful to think that i've dragged you into the same fate. it's awful! why couldn't you have left me to my fate?" "would you have done a thing like that?" demanded dave dryly. "oh, well, i suppose not, but--but--well, i wish i had been left to pay the price of my tomfoolery all alone. it would have served me right. but to drag you two into it--" hallam could go no further. he was choking up with honest emotion. "don't bother about it, hally," urged dave. "it's all in the day's work for a sailor. we'll just take it as it comes, old fellow." to not one of the trio did it occur to let go of the life buoys and sink as a means of ending misery. in the first place, human instinct holds to hope. in the second place, suicide is the resort of cowards. "none of you happened to hide any food in his pockets at breakfast, i take it?" asked dan grimly, at last. of course they hadn't. "too bad," sighed dan. "i'm growing terribly hungry." "catch a fish," smiled back darrin. "and eat it raw?" gasped dalzell. "darry, you know my tastes better than that." "then wait a few hours longer," proposed dave, "until even raw fish will be a delicacy." hallam took no part in the chaffing. he was miserably conscious, all the while, that his own folly had been solely responsible for the present plight of these noble messmates. thus the time passed on. none kept any track of it; they realized only that it was still daylight. then suddenly dave gave a gasp and raised one hand to point. his two classmates turned and were able to make out the mastheads of a craft in the distance. how they strained their eyes! all three stared and stared, until they felt tolerably certain that the craft was headed their way. "they may see us!" cried hallam eagerly. "three battleships and as many launches failed to find us," retorted dan. "and they were looking for us, too." as the vessel came nearer and the hull became visible, it took on the appearance of a liner. "why, it looks as though she'd run right over us when she gets nearer," cried dave, his eyes kindling with hope. "don't get too excited over it," urged dan. "for my part, i'm growing almost accustomed to disappointments." as the minutes passed and the liner came on and on, it looked still more as though she would run down the three middies. [illustration: "look! they see us!"] at last, however, the craft was passing, showing her port side, not very far distant, to be sure. uniting their voices, the three midshipmen yelled with all their power, even though they knew that their desperate call for help could not carry the distance over the subsiding gale. boom! that shot came from the liner, and now her port rail was black with people. "they see us!" cried hallam joyously. "look! that craft is slowing up!" once more came the cheers of encouragement, as the liner, now some distance ahead, put off a heavy launch. a masthead lookout, who had first seen the midshipmen, was now signaling the way to the officer in command of the launch. unable to see for himself, the officer in the launch depended wholly on those masthead signals. so the launch steamed a somewhat zig-zag course over the waves. yet, at last, it bore down straight upon the midshipmen. darrin, dalzell and hallam now came very near to closing their eyes, to lessen the suspense. a short time more and all three were dragged in over the sides of the launch. "get those life buoys in, if you can," begged dave, as he sank in the bottom of the launch. "they are united states property entrusted to our care." from officer and seamen alike a laugh went up at this request, but the life buoys were caught with a boathook and drawn aboard. what rousing cheers greeted the returning launch, from the decks of the liner, "princess irene"! when the three midshipmen reached deck and it was learned that they were midshipmen of the united states navy, the cheering and interest were redoubled. but the captain and the ship's doctor cut short any attempt at lionizing by rushing the midshipmen to a stateroom containing three berths. here, under the doctor's orders, the trio were stripped and rubbed down. then they were rolled into blankets, and hot coffee brought to them in their berths, while their wet clothing was sent below to one of the furnace rooms for hurried drying. as soon as the medical man had examined them, the steamship's captain began to question them. "headed for the azores, eh?" demanded the ship's master. "we ought to be able to sight your squadron before long." he hastened out, to give orders to the deck officer. by the time that the young midshipmen had been satisfactorily warmed, and their clothing had been dried, the ship's surgeon consented to their dressing. after this they were led to a private cabin where a satisfying meal was served them. "oh, i don't know," murmured dan, leaning back, with a contented sigh, after the meal was over; "there are worse things than what happened to us to-day!" the greater speed of the liner enabled her to sight the battleship squadron something more than two hours afterward. then the nearest vessel of the fleet was steered for directly. the deck officers of the liner sent their heavy overcoats for the use of the midshipmen, who, enveloped in these roomy garments, went out on deck to watch the pursuit of their own comrades. within another hour it was possible to signal, and from the "princess irene's" masthead the signal flags were broken out. "now, watch for excitement on board your own craft," smiled the liner's commander, an englishman. as soon as the liner's signal had been read by the vessels of the squadron a wild display of signal bunting swiftly broke out. "heaven be thanked!" read one set of signal flags. "we have officially buried the young men, but ask them to go on living," read another. while the most practical signal of all was: "the 'massachusetts' will fall astern of the squadron. kindly stand by to receive her launch." in a few minutes more the two vessels were close enough. both stopped headway. one of the big battleship's launches put off and steamed over, rolling and pitching on the waves. most carefully indeed the three midshipmen climbed down a rope ladder and were received by an ensign from the "massachusetts," who next gave the american navy's profound thanks to the rescuers of the middies. "kindly lower that united states property that was in our care, sir!" dave darrin called up. there was good-humored laughter above, and a look of amazement on ensign white's face until the two buoys, attached to lines, were thrown down over the side. "when your time comes you will make a very capable officer, i believe, mr. darrin, judging by your care of government property," remarked ensign white, working hard to keep down the laughter. "i hope to do so, sir," dave replied, saluting. then away to the "massachusetts" the launch bore, while the whole battleship squadron cheered itself hoarse over the happy outcome of the day. dave, dan and hallam all had to do a tremendous amount of handshaking among their classmates when they had reached deck. pennington was the only one who did not come forward to hold his hand out to darrin--a fact that was noted at the time by many of the youngsters. to the captain the trio recounted what had befallen them, as matter for official record. "mr. darrin and mr. dalzell," announced the battleship's captain, "i must commend you both for wholly heroic conduct in going to the aid of your classmate. and, mr. darrin, i am particularly interested in your incidental determination to preserve government property--the life buoys that you brought back with you." "it's possible i may need them again, sir," returned dave, with a smile, though he had no notion of prophetic utterance. chapter xi midshipman pennington's accident the stop at the azores was uneventful. it remained in the minds of the midshipmen only as a pleasant recollection of a quaint and pretty place. once more the squadron set sail, and now the homeward-bound pennant was flying. the course lay straight across the atlantic to the entrance of chesapeake bay. on the second night out the wind was blowing a little less than half a gale. darkness had fallen when dave, dan, farley and several other midshipmen gathered to talk in low tones at the stern rail. presently all of them wandered away but dave. he stood close to the rail, enjoying the bumping motion every time the descending stern hit one of the rolling waves. presently, thinking he saw a light astern, he raised himself, peering astern. another group of restless middies had sauntered up. pennington, after a swift look at the pacing officer in charge here, and discovering that the officer's back was turned, executed a series of swift cartwheels. "look out, pen!" called midshipman dwight, in a low, though sharp voice. just too late the warning came. as pen leaped to his feet after the last turn, one of his hands struck darrin forcefully. dave swayed, tried to clutch at something, then-"o-o-o-oh!" rang the first startled chorus. then, instantly, on top of it, came the rousing hail: "man overboard--astern!" farley and hallam were the first to reach the rail. but lieutenant burton was there almost as quickly. "haul back!" commanded the lieutenant sternly. "no one go overboard!" that held the middies in check, for in no place, more than in the navy, are orders orders. clack! was the sound that followed the first cry. like a flash the marine sentry had thrown his rifle to the deck. a single bound carried him to one of the night life buoys. this he released, and hurled far astern. as the night buoy struck the water a long-burning red light was fused by contact. the glow shone out over the waters. in the meantime, the "massachusetts's" speed was being slowed rapidly, and a boat's crew stood at quarters. the boat put off quickly, guided by the glow of the red signal light on the buoy. ere the boat reached the buoy the coxswain made out the head and shoulders of a young man above the rim of the floating buoy. soon after the boat lay alongside. dave, with the coxswain's aid, pulled himself into the small craft. recovering the buoy, the coxswain flashed the red light three times. from the deck of the battleship came a cheering yell sent up from hundreds of throats. in the meantime, however, while the boat was on its way to the buoy, a pulsing scene had been enacted on board. farley went straight up to midshipman pennington. "sir," demanded farley hotly, "why did you push mr. darrin over the rail." pennington looked at his questioner as one stunned. "i--i did push darrin over," admitted pennington, "but it was an accident." "an easily contrived one, wasn't it?" demanded midshipman farley, rather cynically. "it was pure accident," contended pennington, paling. "until it happened i hadn't the least idea in the world that i was going to send mr. darrin or anyone else overboard." "huh!" returned farley dubiously. "huh!" quoth hallam. dan dalzell uttered not a word, but the gaze of his eyes was fixed angrily on pennington. that latter midshipman turned as white as a sheet. his hands worked as though he were attempting to clutch at something to hold himself up. "surely, you fellows don't believe, do you--" he stammered weakly, then paused. "one thing we did notice, the other day," continued farley briskly, "was that, when darrin was rescued from the sea and returned to us, you were about the only member of the class who didn't go up to him and congratulate him on his marvelous escape." "how could--" "mr. pennington, i haven't the patience to talk with you now," rejoined farley, turning on his heel. at that moment the yell started among the midshipmen nearer the rail. farley, dan, hallam and others joined in the yell and rushed to better points of vantage. pennington tried to join in the cheer, but his tongue seemed fixed to the roof of his mouth. he stood clenching and unclenching his hands, his face an ashen gray in his deep humiliation. "i don't care what one or two fellows may say," groaned pennington. "but i don't want the class to think such things of me." he was the most miserable man on board as the small boat came alongside. the boat, occupants and all, was hoisted up to the davits and swung in-board. to the officer of the deck, who stood near-by, dave turned, with a brisk salute. "i beg to report that i've come aboard, sir," darrin uttered. "and very glad we are of it, mr. darrin," replied the officer. "you will go to your locker, change your clothing and then report to the captain, sir." "aye, aye, sir." with another salute, dave hastened below, followed by dan dalzell, who was intent on attending him. ten minutes later dave appeared at the door of the captain's cabin. just a few minutes after that he came out on deck. a crowd gathered about him, expressing their congratulations. "thank you all," laughed dave, "but don't make so much over a middy getting a bath outside of the schedule." to the rear hung pennington, waiting his chance. at last, as the crowd thinned, pennington made his way up to dave. "mr. darrin, i have to apologize for my nonsense, which was the means of pushing you overboard. it was purely accidental, on my honor. i did not even know it was you at the stern, nor did i realize that my antics would result in pushing any one overboard. i trust you will do me the honor of believing my statement." "of course i believe it, mr. pennington," answered darrin, opening his eyes. "there are some," continued pennington, "who have intimated to me their belief that i did it on purpose. there may be others who half believe or suspect that i might, or would, do such a thing." "nonsense!" retorted dave promptly. "there may be differences, sometimes, between classmates, but there isn't a midshipman in the navy who would deliberately try to drown a comrade. it's a preposterous insult against midshipman honor. if i hear any one make a charge like that, i'll call him out promptly." "some of your friends--i won't name them--insisted, or at least let me feel the force of their suspicions." "if any of my friends hinted at such a thing, it was done in the heat of the moment," replied dave heartily. "why, mr. pennington, such an act of dishonor is impossible to a man bred at annapolis." darrin fully believed what he said. on the spur of the moment he held out his hand to his enemy. pennington flushed deeply, for a moment, then put out his own hand, giving dave's a hearty, straightforward grasp. "i was the first to imply the charge," broke in farley quickly. "i withdraw it, and apologize to both of you." there was more handshaking. during the next few days, while darry and pen did not become by any means intimate, they no longer made any effort to avoid each other, but spoke frankly when they met. the remaining days of the voyage passed uneventfully enough, except for a great amount of hard work that the middies performed as usual. on the twenty-second of august they entered chesapeake bay. once well inside, they came to anchor. there was considerable practice with the sub-caliber and other smaller guns. on the twenty-ninth of august the battleship fleet returned to the familiar waters around annapolis. the day after that the young men disembarked. then came a hurried skeltering, for the first, second and third classmen were entitled to leave during the month of september. chapter xii back in the home town back in the old, well-known streets of their home town, gridley! dave and dan, enjoying every minute of their month's leave, had already greeted their parents, and had told them much of their life as midshipmen. what hurt was the fact that the skipper of the "princess irene" had already told the marine reporters in new york the thrilling story of how dave and dan had nearly come to their own deaths rescuing midshipman hallam. everyone in gridley, it seemed, had read that newspaper story. darrin and dalzell, before they had been home twelve hours, were weary of hearing their praises sung. "there go two of the smartest, finest boys that old gridley ever turned out," citizens would say, pointing after dave and dan. "they're midshipmen at annapolis; going to be officers of the navy one of these days." "but what's the matter with dick prescott and greg holmes? they're at west point." "oh, they're all right, too, of course. but darrin and dalzell----" it was the old circumstance of being "the lions of the minute" and of being on the spot. on the first morning of his arrival home dave darrin went frankly and openly to call on his old schoolgirl sweetheart, belle meade. dan, having no particular associations with the gentler sex, took a stroll around town to meet any old friends who might care to see him again. dave was shown into the parlor at the meade home. soon after belle came swiftly in, her face beaming with delight. "oh, but you're not in uniform!" was her first disappointed comment. "no," smiled dave. "i'm allowed every possible chance, for one month, to forget every detail of the big grind which for a short time i've left behind." "but you're the same old dave," cried belle, "only bigger and manlier. and that magnificent work you and dan did in jumping over-bo----" "stop!" begged dave. "you're a friend of mine, aren't you! then don't add to the pain that has been already inflicted on me. if i had had the newspapers in mind i wouldn't have the nerve to---but please let's not talk about it anymore." then the two young people seated themselves and spent a delightful hour in talking over all that had befallen them both since they had last met. belle, too, through laura bentley, had some much later news of the old chums, dick and greg, now cadets at west point. this news, however, will be found in full in "dick prescott's second year at west point." "what are your plans for this afternoon?" belle asked at last. "that's what i want your help in making," dave answered. "can you get hold of dan?" "no trouble about that. but keeping hold of him may be more difficult," laughed dave. "i was going to propose that you get dan, call here and then we'll all go over to laura bentley's. i know she'll be anxious to see us." "nothing could be better in the way of a plan," assented dave. "i'll pin danny boy down to that. it would really seem like a slight on good old dick if we didn't make laura an early call." "i'll go to the telephone, now, and tell her that we're coming," cried belle, rising quickly. "laura is delighted," she reported, on her return to the room. "but dave, didn't you at least bring along a uniform, so that we could see what it looks like?" "i didn't," replied dave, soberly, then added, quizzically: "you've seen the district messenger boys on the street, haven't you?" "yes, of course; but what--" "our uniforms look very much like theirs," declared dave. "i'm afraid i can't undertake to believe you," belle pouted. "well, anyway, you girls will soon have a chance to see our uniforms. just as soon as our hops start, this fall, you and laura will come down and gladden our hearts by letting us drag you, won't you!" "drag us?" repeated belle, much mystified. "oh, that's middies' slang for escorting a pretty girl to a midshipman hop." "you have a lot of slang, then, i suppose." "considerable," admitted dave readily. "what, then, is your slang for a pretty girl?" "oh, we call her a queen." "and a girl who is--who isn't--pretty?" "a gold brick," answered dave unblushingly. "a gold brick?" gasped belle. "dear me! 'dragging a gold brick' to a hop doesn't sound romantic, does it?" "it isn't," darrin admitted. "yet you have invited me--" "our class hasn't started in with its course of social compliments yet," laughed dave. "please go look in the glass. or, if you won't believe the glass, then just wait and see how proud dan and i are if we can lead you and laura out on the dancing floor." "but what horrid slang!" protested belle. "the idea of calling a homely girl a gold brick! and i thought you young men received more or less training in being gracious to the weaker sex." "we do," dave answered, "as soon as we can find any use for the accomplishment. fourth classmen, you know, are considered too young to associate with girls. it's only now, when we've made a start in the third class, that we're to be allowed to attend the hops at all." "but why must you have to have such horrid names for girls who have not been greatly favored in the way of looks? it doesn't sound exactly gallant." "oh, well, you know," laughed dave, "we poor, despised, no-account middies must have some sort of sincere language to talk after we get our masks off for the day. i suppose we like the privilege, for a few minutes in each day, of being fresh, like other young folks." "what is your name for 'fresh' down at annapolis!" belle wanted to know. "touge." "and for being a bit worse than touge?" "ratey." "which did they call you?" demanded belle. dave started, then sat up straight, staring at miss meade. "i see that your tongue hasn't lost its old incisiveness," he laughed. "not among my friends," belle replied lightly. "but i can't get my mind off that uniform of yours that you didn't bring home. what would have happened to you if you had been bold enough to do it?" "i guess i'd have 'frapped the pap,'" hazarded dave. "and what on earth is 'frapping the pap'?" gasped belle. "oh, that's a brief way of telling about it when a midshipman gets stuck on the conduct report." "i'm going to buy a notebook," asserted belle, "and write down and classify some of this jargon. i'd hate to visit a strange country, like annapolis, and find i didn't know the language. and, dave, what sort of place is annapolis, anyway?" "oh, it's a suburb of the naval academy," dave answered. "is it dreadfully hard to keep one's place in his class there?" asked belle. "well, the average fellow is satisfied if he doesn't 'bust cold,'" dave informed her. "gracious! what sort of explosion is 'busting cold'?" "why, that means getting down pretty close to absolute zero in all studies. when a fellow has the hard luck to bust cold the superintendent allows him all his time, thereafter, to go home and look up a more suitable job than one in the navy. and when a fellow bilges----" "stop!" begged belle. "wait!" she fled from the room, to return presently bearing the prettiest hat that dave ever remembered having seen on her shapely young head. in one hand she carried a dainty parasol that she turned over to him. "what's the cruise?" asked darrin, rising. "i'm going out to get that notebook, now. please don't talk any more 'midshipman' to me until i get a chance to set the jargon down." as she stood there, such a pretty and wholesome picture, david darrin thought he never before had seen such a pretty girl, nor one dressed in such exquisite taste. being a boy, it did not occur to him that belle meade had been engaged for weeks in designing this gown and others that she meant to wear during his brief stay at home. "what are you thinking of?" asked belle. "what a pity it is that i am doomed to a short life," sighed darrin. "a short life? what do you mean?" belle asked. "why, i'm going to be assassinated, the first hop that you attend at the naval academy." "so i'm a gold brick, am i?" frowned belle. "you--a--gold brick?" stammered dave. "why, you--oh, go look in the glass!" "who will assassinate you?" "a committee made up from among the fellows whose names i don't write down on your dance card. and there are hundreds of them at annapolis. you can't dance with them all." "i don't intend to," replied belle, with a toss of her head. "i'll accept, as partners, only those who appear to me the handsomest and most distinguished looking of the midshipmen. no one else can write his name on my card." "dear girl, i'm afraid you don't understand our way of making up dance cards at crabtown." "where?" "crabtown. that's our local name for annapolis." "gracious! let me get out quickly and get that notebook!" "at midshipmen's hops the fellow who drags the----" "gold brick," supplied belle, resignedly. "no--not for worlds! you're no gold brick, belle, and you know it, even though you do refuse to go to the mirror. but the fellow who drags any femme--" "please--?" "'femme' stands for girl. the fellow who drags any femme makes up her dance card for her." "and she hasn't a word to say about it?" "not as a rule." "oh!" cried belle, dramatically. she moved toward the door. dave, who could not take his eyes from her pretty face, managed, somehow, to delay her. "belle, there's something--" he began. "good gracious! where? what?" she cried, looking about her keenly. "it's something i want to say--must say," dave went on with more of an effort than anyone but himself could guess. "tell me, as we're going down the street," invited belle. "_wha-a-at?_" choked dave. "well, i guess not!" he faced her, resting both hands lightly on her shoulders. "belle, we were pretty near sweethearts in the high school, i think," he went on, huskily, but looking her straight in the eyes. "at least, that was my hope, and i hope, most earnestly, that it's going to continue. belle, i am a long way from my real career, yet. it will be five years, yet, before i have any right to marry. but i want to look forward, all the time, to the sweet belief that my schoolgirl sweetheart is going to become my wife one of these days. i want that as a goal to work for, along with my commission in the navy. but to this much i agree: if you say 'yes' now, and find later that you have made a mistake, you will tell me so frankly." "poor boy!" murmured belle, looking at him fully. "you've been a plebe until lately, and you haven't been allowed to see any girls. i'm not going to take advantage of you as heartlessly as that." yet something in her eyes gave the midshipman hope. "belle," he continued eagerly, "don't trifle with me. tell me--will you marry me some day?" then there was a little more talk and--well, it's no one's business. "but we're not so formally engaged," belle warned him, "that you can't write me and draw out of the snare if you wish when you're older. and i'm not going to wear any ring until you've graduated from the naval academy. do you understand that, mr. david darrin?" "it shall be as you say, either way," dave replied happily. "and now, let us get started, or we shan't get out on the street to-day," urged belle. then they passed out on the street, and no ordinarily observant person would have suspected them of being anything more than school friends. being very matter-of-fact in some respects, belle's first move was to go to a stationer's, where she bought a little notebook bound in red leather. dave tried to pay for that purchase, but belle forestalled him. "why didn't you allow me to make you that little gift?" he asked in a low tone, when they had reached the street. "wait," replied belle archly. "some day you may find your hands full in that line." "one of my instructors at annapolis complimented me on having very capable hands," dave told her dryly. "the instructor in boxing?" asked belle. it was a wonderfully delightful stroll that the middy and his sweetheart enjoyed that september forenoon. once dave sighed, so pronouncedly that belle shot a quick look of questioning at him. "tired of our understanding already?" she demanded. "no; i was thinking how sorry i am for danny boy! he doesn't know the happiness of having a real sweetheart." "how do you know he doesn't?" asked belle quickly. "does he tell you everything?" "no; but i know danny's sea-going lines pretty well. i'd suspect, at least, if he had a sweetheart." "are you sure that you would?" "oh, yes! by gracious! there's danny going around the corner above at this very moment." belle had looked in the same instant. "yes; and a skirt swished around the corner with him," declared belle impressively. "it would be funny, wouldn't it, if you didn't happen to know all about dan dalzell?" in the early afternoon, however, the mystery was cleared up. on the street dalzell had encountered laura bentley. both were full of talk and questions concerning dick prescott and greg holmes, at west point, for which reason dan had strolled home with miss bentley without any other thought, on the midshipman's part, than playing substitute gallant for his chum, cadet richard prescott, u.s. military academy. a most delightful afternoon the four young people spent together at the bentley home. these were the forerunners of other afternoons. belle and laura, however, were not able to keep their midshipmen to themselves. other girls, former students at the high school, arranged a series of affairs to which the four young people were invited. dave's happiest moments were when he had belle to himself, for a stroll or chat. dan's happiest moments, on the other hand, were when he was engaged in hunting the old high school fellows, or such of them as were now at home. for many of them had entered colleges or technical schools. tom reade and harry hazelton, of the famous old dick & co., of high school days, were now in the far southwest, under circumstances fully narrated in "the young engineers in arizona," the second volume of "the young engineers' series.'" day by day belle jotted down in her notebook more specimens of midshipman slang. "i shall soon feel that i can reel off the language like a native of crabtown," she confided laughingly to dare. "it won't be very long before you have an opportunity to try," dave declared, "if you and laura embrace your first opportunity to come to a middy hop." dan had a happy enough time of it, even though dave's suspicion was true in that dan had no sweetheart. that, however, was dan's fault entirely, as several of the former high school girls would have been willing to assure him. since even the happiest times must all end so the latter part of september drew near. then came the day when dave and dan met at the railway station. a host of others were there to see them off, for the midshipmen still had crowds of friends in the good old home town. a ringing of bells, signaling brakesmen, a rolling of steel wheels and the two young midshipmen swung aboard the train, to wave their hats from the platform. gridley was gone--lost to sight for another year. dan was exuberant during the first hour of the journey, dave unusually silent. "you need a vast amount of cheering up, david, little giant!" exclaimed dalzell. "oh, i guess not," smiled dave darrin quietly, adding to himself, under his breath: "i carry my own good cheer with me, now." lightly his hand touched a breast pocket that carried the latest, sweetest likeness of miss belle meade. one journey by rail is much like another to the traveler who pays little heed to the scenery. at the journey's end two well-rested midshipmen joined the throng of others at crabtown. chapter xiii dan receives a fearful facer "oh, you heap!" sighed dan dalzell dismally. he sat in his chair, in their new quarters in bancroft hall, united states naval academy, gazing in mock despair at the pile of new books that he had just drawn. these text-books contained the subjects in which a midshipman is required to qualify in his second academic year. "been through the books for a first look?" called dave from behind his own study table. "some of 'em," admitted dalzell. "i'm afraid to glance into the others." "i've looked in all of my books," continued darrin, "and i've just come to a startling conclusion." "what?" "i'm inclined to believe that i have received a complete set of text-books for the first and second classes." "no such luck!" grunted dan, getting up and going over to his chum. "let me see if you got all the books i did." before dave could prevent it, dan started a determined over-tossing of the book pile. as he did so, dan suddenly uncovered a photograph from which a fair, sweet, laughing face gazed up at him. "oh, i beg a million pardons, dave, old boy!" cried dalzell. "you needn't," came dave's frank answer. "i'm proud of that treasure and of all it means to me." "and i'm glad for you, david, little giant." their hands met in hearty clasp, and that was all that was said on that subject at the time. "but, seriously," dan grumbled on, after a while, "i'm aghast at what an exacting government expects and demands that we shall know. just look over the list--mechanical drawing and mechanical processes, analytical geometry, calculus, physics, chemistry, english literature, french and spanish, integral calculus, spherical trigonometry, stereographic projection and united states naval history! david, my boy, by the end of this year we'll know more than college professors do." "aren't you getting a big head, danny?" queried darrin, looking up with a smile. "i am," assented dalzell, "and i admit it. why, man alive, one has to have a big head here. no small head would contain all that the academic board insists on crowding into it." by the time that the chums had attended the first section recitations on the following day, their despair was increased. "davy, i don't see how we are ever going to make it, this year," dalzell gasped, while they were making ready for supper formation. "we'll bilge this year without a doubt." "there's only one reason i see for hoping that we can get through the year with fair credit," murmured darrin. "and what's that?" "others have done it, before us, and many more are going to do it this year," replied dave slowly, as he laid comb and brush away and drew on his uniform blouse. "i know men have gotten through the naval academy in years gone by," dalzell agreed. "but, the first chance that i have, i'm going to look the matter up and see whether the middies of old had any such fearful grind as we have our noses held to." "oh, we'll do it," declared darrin confidently. "i shall, anyway--for i've got to!" as he spoke he was thinking of belle meade, and of her prospects in life as well as his own. as the days went by, however, dave and dan became more and more dull of spirits. the grind was a fearful one. a few very bright youngsters went along all right, but to most of the third classmen graduation began to look a thousand years away. the football squad was out now and training in deadly earnest. there were many big games to be played, but most of all the middies longed to tow west point's army eleven into the port of defeat. in their first year dave and dan had looked forward longingly to joining the gridiron squad. they had even practised somewhat. but now they realized that playing football in the second year at annapolis must be, for them, merely a foolish dream. "i'm thankful enough if i can study day and night and keep myself up to 2.5," confessed darrin, as he and dan chatted over their gridiron longings. two-and-five tenths is the lowest marking, on a scale of four, that will suffice to keep a midshipman in the naval academy. "i'm not going to reach 2.5 in some studies this month," groaned dan. "i know that much by way of advance information. the fates be thanked that we're allowed until the semi-ans to pick up. but the question is, are we ever going to pick up? as i look through my books it seems to me that every succeeding lesson is twice as hard as the one before it." "other men have gone through, every year." "and still other men have been dropped every year," dalzell dolefully reminded him. "we're among those who are going to stay," dave contended stubbornly. "then i'm afraid we'll be among those who are dropped after christmas and come back, next year, as bilgers," dalzell groaned. "now, drop that!" commanded darrin, almost roughly. "remember one thing, daniel little lion slayer! my congressman and your senator won't appoint us again, if we fail now. no talk of that kind, remember. we've got to make our standing secure within the next few weeks." before the month was over the football games began in earnest on the athletic field. darrin and dalzell, however, missed every game. they were too busy poring over their text-books. fortunately for them their drills, parades and gym. work furnished them enough exercise. the end of october found darrin at or above 2.5 in only three studies. dan was above 2.5 in two studies--below that mark in all others. "it's a pity my father never taught me to swear," grumbled dalzell, in the privacy of their room. "stow that talk," ordered darrin, "and shove off into the deeper waters of greater effort." "greater effort?" demanded dan, in a rage. "why i study, now, every possible moment of the time allowed for such foolishness. and we can't run a light. right after taps the electric light is turned off at the master switch." "we're wasting ninety seconds of precious time, now, in grumbling," uttered dave, seating himself doggedly at his study table. "got any money, darry?" asked dalzell suddenly. "yes; are you broke?" "i am, and the next time i go into annapolis i mean to buy some candles." "don't try that, danny. running a light is dangerous, and doubly so with candles. the grease is bound to drip, and to be found in some little corner by one of the discipline officers. it would be no use to study if you are going to get frapped on the pap continuously." immediately after supper both midshipmen forfeited their few minutes of recreation, going at once back to their study tables. there they remained, boning hard until the brief release sounded before taps was due. almost at the sound of the release there came a knock at the door. farley and his roommate, page, came bounding in. "i've got to say something, or i'll go daffy," cried farley, rubbing his eyes. "fellows, did you ever hear of such downright abuse as the second year course of studies means?" "it is tough," agreed dave. "but what can we do about it, except fight it out?" "can you make head or tail out of calculus?" demanded farley. "no," admitted darrin, "but i hope to, one of these days." just then freeman, of the first class, poked his head in, after a soft knock. "what is this--a despair meeting?" he called cheerily. "yes," groaned page. "we're in a blue funk over the way recitations are going." "oh, buck up, kiddies!" called freeman cheerily, as he crossed the floor. "youngsters always get in the doldrums at the beginning of the year." "you're a first classman. when you were in the third class did you have all the studies that we have now?" "every one of them, sir," affirmed midshipman freeman gravely, though there was a twinkle in his eyes. "and did you come through the course easily?" asked page. "not easily," admitted the first classman. "there isn't anything at annapolis that is easy, except the dancing. in fact, during the first two months very few of our class came along like anything at all. after that, we began to do better. by the time that semi-ans came around nearly all of us managed to pull through. but what seems to be the worst grind of all--the real blue paint?" "calculus!" cried the four youngsters in unison. "why, once you begin to see daylight in calculus it's just as easy as taking a nap," declared the first classman. "at present it seems more like suffering from delirium," sighed dave. "what's the hard one for to-morrow?" asked freeman. "here it is, right here," continued dave, opening his text-book. "here's the very proposition." the others crowded about, nodding. "i remember that one," laughed freeman lightly. "our class named it 'sticky fly paper.'" "it was rightly named," grumbled farley. "none of you four youngsters see through it?" demanded midshipman freeman. "do you mean to claim, sir, that you ever did?" insisted dan dalzell. "not only once, but now," grinned mr. freeman. "you haven't been looking at this torturing proposition from the right angle--that's all. now, listen, while i read it." "oh, we all know how it runs, mr. freeman," protested page. "nevertheless, listen, while i read it." as the first classman read through the proposition that was torturing them he threw an emphasis upon certain words that opened their eyes better as to the meaning. "now, it works out this way," continued the first classman, bending over the disk and drawing paper and pencil toward him. "in the first place." freeman seemed to these youngsters like a born demonstrator. within five minutes he had made the "sticky fly paper" problem so plain to them all that they glanced from one to another in astonishment. "why, it does seem easy," confessed farley. "it sounds foolish, now," grinned darrin. "i'm beginning to feel ashamed of myself." "mr. freeman," protested page, "you've saved us from suicide, or some other gruesome fate." "then i'll drop in once in a while again," promised the first classman. "but that will take time from your own studies," remonstrated darrin generously. "not in the least. i won't come around before release. by the time a fellow reaches the first class, if he's going to graduate anyway, he doesn't have to study as hard as a youngster does. the man who reaches the first class has had all the habits of true study ground into him." darrin, dalzell, farley and page were all in different sections in mathematics. when they recited, next day, it so happened that each was the man to have the "sticky fly paper" problem assigned to him by the instructor. each of the quartette received a full "4" for the day's marking. "did you have any assistance with this problem, mr. darrin?" asked dave's instructor. "yes, sir; a member of the first class tried to make it plain to me last night." "he appears to have succeeded," remarked the instructor dryly. there was, however, no discredit attached to having received proper assistance before coming into section. true to his promise freeman dropped in every fourth or fifth evening, to see if he could be of any help to the four youngsters. always he found that he could be. even when thanksgiving came, dave darrin did not go to philadelphia, but remained at the academy, devoting his time to study. dan, in sheer desperation, took in the trip to philadelphia. he hoped to meet dick prescott and greg holmes, but they did not come down from west point. on the first day of december, dan dalzell's name was formally reported by the academic board in a report to the superintendent which recommended that midshipman dalzell be dropped from the rolls for "inaptitude in his studies." poor dan. it was a staggering blow. yet it struck dave darrin just about as hard. chapter xiv the first hop with the home girls that report was allowed to reach dan's ears on a friday. on the evening of the day following there was to be a midshipman hop on the floor of the great gym. moreover, it was the very hop that belle meade and laura bentley had finally selected to attend. mrs. meade was coming with the girls as chaperon. "oh, but i shall feel fine and light hearted for going to the dance!" muttered dan miserably. "facing the kick-off from the academy, and doing the light hearted and the fantastic toe with the girls." "i shan't feel a whole lot more merry myself," sighed dave, as he gazed affectionately, wistfully at his chum. "danny, this has hit me about as hard as it has you. and it warns me, too, that my turn will probably come next. i don't stand an awful lot higher in my markings than you do." "doesn't it feel fine to be a bilger?" gulped dalzell, staring at the floor. a "bilger," as has been already explained, is a midshipman who has failed and has been dropped. "oh, but you're not a bilger, yet!" cried darrin, leaping up and resting both hands on his chum's shoulder. "what's the odds?" demanded dan grimly. "i shall be, after i've been before the board next monday forenoon at ten o'clock." "nonsense! not if you make a good fight!" "fight--nothing!" sighed dan wearily. "in a fight there's some one else that you can hit back at. but i won't have a blessed soul to fight. i'm up against a gang who are all referees, and all down on me at the outset." "nonsense," combatted dave. "you----" "oh, that's all right, david, little giant," returned dalzell with an attempt at cheeriness. "you mean well, but a fellow isn't reported deficient unless he's so far behind that the board has his case settled in advance. from all i can hear it isn't once in a camel's age that a fellow so reported, and ordered before the board, gets off with anything less than a hard, wet bilge. what i'm thinking of now is, what am i going to pick up as a career when i go home from here as a failure." if it hadn't been for the pride he felt in still having the uniform on, dalzell might not have been able to check the tears that tried to flow. "come on," commanded dave, leaping up, "we'll run up to the deck above, and see if we can't find mr. freeman in." "what good will that do?" demanded dan. "freeman is a first classman, but he hasn't any particular drag with the board." "it won't do any harm, anyway, for us to have a talk with an older classman," argued dave. "button your blouse, straighten your hair and come along." "so it's as bad as that, is it!" asked freeman sympathetically, after his cheery "come in" had admitted the unhappy youngsters. "yes," replied dave incisively. "now, the question is, what can be done about it?" "i wish you had asked me an easier one," sighed the first classman. "you're mighty well liked, all through the academy, dalzell, and every one of us will hate to see you go." "but what can be done to ward off that fate?" insisted darrin as impatiently as a third classman might speak to a venerable first classman. "well, now, i want to think over that," confessed freeman frankly. "of course, dalzell's record, this term, is in black and white, and can't be gainsaid. it's just possible our young friend can put up some line of talk that will extend his time here, and perhaps enable him to pull through. it's a mighty important question, so i'll tell you what we'll do. of course, the hop comes on for to-morrow night. let me have until sunday evening. meanwhile i'll talk with some of the other fellows of my class. you both come in here sunday evening, and i'll have the answer for you--if there's any possible way of finding one." with that the chums had to be content. expressing their gratitude to this friendly first classman, they withdrew. that saturday forenoon dan did considerably better with the two recitations that he had in hand. "i got easier questions than usual, i guess," he said to dave, with a mournful smile. after saturday dinner, dave and dan, having secured permission to visit in annapolis, steered their course through the gate, straight up maryland avenue, through state circle and around into main street, to the maryland house. at the desk they sent up their cards to mrs. meade, then stepped into the parlor. barely two minutes had passed when belle and laura flew downstairs. "mother says she'll be down as soon as she fancies you'll care about seeing her," laughed belle. "and how are you getting on in your classes?" asked laura bentley, glancing straight at unhappy dan. both midshipmen had agreed not to mention a word of dan's heartache to either of the girls. dan gulped hard, though he managed to conceal the fact. darrin, however, was ready with the answer: "oh, we're having pretty rough sailing, but we're both still in our class." which statement was wholly truthful. "up at west point," laura continued, "dick told us that the first two years were the hardest for a man to keep his place. i fancy it's just about the same here, isn't it?" "just about," dave nodded. "the first two years are hardest because it takes all that time for a fellow to get himself keyed up to the gait of study that is required in the government academies. but won't you let us talk about something that's really pleasant, girls?" dave asked, with his charming smile. "suppose we talk about yourselves. my, but you girls are good to look at!" after that, the conversation was shifted to lighter subjects. even dan, in the joy of meeting two girl friends from home, began to be less conscious of his load of misery. presently mrs. meade came down. she chatted with the two fine-looking young midshipmen for a few moments. then dave proposed: "wouldn't you like us to escort you through the academy grounds, so that you can get a good idea of the place in daylight?" "we've been waiting only for you to invite us," rejoined belle. for the next two hours the time was passed pleasantly. but belle, behind all her light chatter, was unusually keen and observing. "is anything wrong with either of you?" she asked dave suddenly, when this pair were out of easy hearing of the others. "why do you ask that?" inquired dave, looking at her in his direct fashion. "why, i may be unnecessarily sensitive, but i can't help feeling that some sort of disaster is hanging over either you or dan." "i hope not," replied darrin evasively. "dave, that isn't a direct answer," warned belle, raising her eyebrows. "do you consider me entitled to one?" "yes. what's the question?" "are you in any trouble here?" "no, i'm thankful to say." "then is dan?" "belle, i'd rather not answer that." "why----" "well, because, if he is, i'd rather not discuss it." "has dan been caught in any scrape?" "no. his conduct record is fine." "then it must be failure in his studies." dave did not answer. "why don't you tell me?" insisted belle. "if anything were in the wind, belle, we'd rather not tell you and spoil your visit. and don't ask dan anything about it." "i think i know enough," went on belle thoughtfully and sympathetically. "poor dan! he's one of the finest of fellows." "there are no better made," retorted dave promptly. "if anything happens to dan here, dear, i know you will feel just as unhappy about it as if it happened to yourself." "mighty close to it," nodded darrin. "but it would be a double heartbreak for me, if i had to leave." "why?" "on account of the future i've planned for you, belle." "oh, you silly boy, then!" belle answered, smiling into his eyes. "i believe i have half committed myself to the idea of marrying you when you've made your place in life. but it was dave darrin to whom i gave that half promise--not a uniform of any sort. dave, if anything ever happens that you have to quit here, don't imagine that it's going to make a particle of difference in our understanding." "you're the real kind of sweetheart, belle!" murmured dave, gazing admiringly at her flushed face. "did you ever suspect that i wasn't?" asked miss meade demurely. "never!" declared midshipman darrin devoutly. "nevertheless, it's fine to be reassured once in a while." "what a great fellow dan is!" exclaimed belle a few minutes later. "see how gayly he is chatting with laura. i don't believe laura guesses for a moment that dan dalzell is just as game a fellow as the spartan boy of olden times." chapter xv a disagreeable first classman the hop that night was one of the happiest occasions dave had ever known, yet it was destined to result in trouble for him. midshipman treadwell, of the first class, caught sight of belle as she entered the gym at dave darrin's side. with treadwell it happened to be one of those violent though unusually silly affairs known as "love at first sight." as for belle, she was not likely to have eyes for anyone in particular, save dave. treadwell, who had come alone, and who was not to be overburdened with dances, went after dave as soon as that youngster left belle for the first time. "mighty sweet looking girl you have with you, darry," observed the first classman, though he took pains not to betray too much enthusiasm. "right!" nodded dave. "you'll present me, won't you?" "assuredly, as soon as i come back. i have a little commission to attend to." "and you might be extremely kind, darry, and write me down for a couple of numbers on miss----" "miss meade is the young lady's name." "then delight me by writing down a couple of reservations for me on miss meade's card." darrin's face clouded slightly. "i'd like to, treadwell, but the card is pretty crowded, and some other fellows--" "one dance, anyway, then." "i will, then, if there's a space to be left, and if miss meade is agreeable," promised dave, as he hurried away. two minutes later, when he returned, looking very handsome, indeed, in his short-waisted, gold-laced dress coat, dave felt his arm touched. "i'm waiting for you to keep your engagement with me," midshipman treadwell murmured. "come along; i shall be delighted to present you to miss meade." since every midshipman is granted to be a gentleman, midshipman etiquette does not require that the lady be consulted about the introduction. "miss meade," began dave, bowing before his sweetheart, "i wish to present mr. treadwell" belle's greeting was easy. treadwell, gazing intensely into her eyes, exchanged a few commonplaces. belle, entirely at her ease, did not appear to be affected by the battery of mr. treadwell's gaze. then good breeding required that the first classman make another bow and stroll away. as he left, treadwell murmured in dave's ear: "don't forget that dance, darry! two if there is any show." midshipman darrin nodded slightly. as he turned to belle, that young lady demanded lightly: "is that pirate one of your friends, dave?" "not more so than any other comrades in the brigade," darrin answered. "why?" "nothing, only i saw you two speaking together a little while ago----" "that was when he was asking me to present him." "then, after you left him," continued belle, in a low voice, "mr. treadwell scowled after you as though he could have demolished you." "why, i've no doubt mr. treadwell is very jealous of me," laughed damn happily. "why shouldn't he be? by the way, will you let me see your dance card? mr. treadwell asked me to write his name down for one or two dances." "please don't," begged belle suddenly, gripping her dance card tightly. "i hope you don't mind, dave," she added in a whisper, "but i've taken just a shadow of a dislike to mr. treadwell, after the way that he scowled after you. i--i really don't want to dance with him." dave could only bow, which he did. then other midshipmen were presented. belle's card was quickly filled, without the appearance of midshipman treadwell's name on it. the orchestra struck up. dave danced the first two numbers with belle, moving through a dream of happiness as he felt her waist against his arm, one of her hands resting on his shoulder. the second dance was a repetition of dave's pleasure. then dave and dan exchanged partners for two more dances. after their first dance, a waltz, dave led laura to a seat. "will you get me a glass of water, dave?" laura asked, fanning herself. as dave hastened away he felt, once more, a light, detaining touch. "darry, did you save those two dances for me with miss meade?" asked treadwell. "oh, i'm sorry," dave replied. "but there had been many other applicants. by the time that miss meade's card was filled there were many disappointed ones." "and i'm one of them?" demanded mr. treadwell. "very sorry," replied darrin regretfully, "but you were one of the left-over ones." "very good, sir," replied treadwell coldly, and moved away. "now, i'll wager anything that treadwell is sore with me," murmured dave to himself. "however, belle is the one to be pleased." it was a particularly gay and pleasant hop. when it was over dave and dan escorted the girls and mrs. meade back to the hotel. the little room in bancroft hall seemed especially small and dingy to the returning midshipmen. especially was dan dalzell in the blues. though he had been outwardly gay with the girls, he now suffered a re-action. dave, too, shivered for his friend. mrs. meade and the girls returned by an early morning train, so the two chums did not see the girls again during that visit. on sunday, dave went at his books with a dogged air, after morning chapel and dinner. "i suppose this is the last day of study for me here," grimaced dan, "so i mean to make the most of the pleasure." "nonsense," retorted darrin heartily; "you'll finish out this year, and then have two more solid years of study here ahead of you." "cut it!" begged dan dolefully. "don't try to jolly me along like that." "you're down in the dumps, just now, danny boy," smiled darrin wistfully. "just bombard the board with rapid-fire talk to-morrow, and you'll pull through all right." dan sighed, then went on with his half-hearted study. later in the afternoon dave, feeling the need of fresh air, closed his books. "come for a walk, danny boy?" "don't dare to," replied dalzell morosely. so, though darrin went out, he resolved not to remain long away from his moody chum. outside, on one of the cement walks, dave turned toward flirtation walk. it seemed the best surrounding in which to think of belle. "mr. darrin!" called a voice. dave turned, to behold mr. treadwell coming at a fast stride with a scowl on his face. "that was a dirty trick you played me last night, mr. darrin!" cried the first classman angrily. "what?" gasped dave, astonished, for this was not in line with the usual conversation of midshipmen. "you know well enough what i mean," cried treadwell angrily. "you spiked my only chance to dance with miss meade." "you're wrong there," retorted dave coldly and truthfully "i didn't." "then how did it happen?" "i can't discuss that with you," darrin rejoined. "i didn't make any effort, though, to spoil your chance of a dance with the young lady." "mr. darrin, i don't choose to believe you, sir!" dave's face went crimson, then pale. "do you realize what you're saying, mr. treadwell?" "of course"--sneeringly. "are you trying to pick trouble with me?" demanded dave, his eyes flashing with spirit. "i repeat that i don't choose to believe your explanation, sir." "then you pass me the lie?" "as you prefer to consider it," jeered the first classman. "oh, very good, then, mr. treadwell," retorted dave, eyeing the first classman and sizing him up. treadwell was one of the biggest men, physically, in the brigade. he was also one of the noted fighters of his class. beside treadwell, midshipman darrin did not size up at all advantageously. "if you do not retract what you just said," pursued dave darrin, growing cooler now that he realized the deliberate nature of the affront that had been put upon him, "i shall have no choice but to send my friends to you." "delighted to see them, at any time," replied the first classman, turning disdainfully upon his heel and strolling away. "now, why on earth does that fellow deliberately pick a fight with me?" wondered darrin, as he strolled along by himself. "treadwell can thump me. he can knock me clean down the bay and into the atlantic ocean, but what credit is there in it for a first classman to thrash a youngster?" it was too big a puzzle. after thinking it over for some time dave turned and strolled back to bancroft hall. "you didn't stay out long!" remarked dan, looking up with a weary smile as his chum re-entered their room. "no," admitted dave. "there wasn't much fun in being out alone." with a sigh, dan turned back to his book, while dave seated himself at his own study table, in a brown daze. things were happening fast--dan's impending "bilge" from the naval academy, and his own coming fight with the first classman who would be sure to make it a "blood fight"! chapter xvi how dan faced the board "we trust, mr. dalzell, that you can make some statement or explanation that will show that we shall be justified in retaining you as a midshipman in the naval academy." it was the superintendent of the united states naval academy who was speaking. dan's hour of great ordeal had come upon him. that young midshipman found himself in the board room, facing the entire academic board, trying to remember what freeman had told him the night before. the time was 10.30 a.m. on that fateful monday. midshipman dalzell appeared to be collected, but he was also very certainly white-faced. many a young man, doomed to be sent forth from a naval career, back into the busy, unheeding world, had faced this board in times past. so it was hardly to be expected that dan would inspire any unusual interest in the members of the board. dan swallowed at something hard in his throat, then opened his lips to speak. "i am aware, sir, and gentlemen, that i am at present sufficiently deficient in my studies to warrant my being dropped," dan began rather slowly. "yet i would call attention to the fact that i was nearly as badly off, in the matter of markings, at this time last year. it is also a matter of record that i pulled myself together, later on, and contrived to get through the first year with a considerable margin of credits to spare. if i am permitted to finish the present term here i believe i can almost positively promise that i will round out this year with as good a showing as i did last year." "you have thought the matter carefully out in making this statement, have you, mr. dalzell?" asked the superintendent. "i have, sir." "have you any explanation to offer for falling below the standards so far this year, mr. dalzell?" "i believe, sir, that i make a much slower start, with new studies, than most of my classmates," dan continued, speaking more rapidly now, but in a most respectful manner. "once i begin to catch the full drift of new studies i believe that i will overtake some of my classmates who showed a keener comprehension at the first. i think, sir, and gentlemen, that my record, as contrasted with the records of some of my classmates who achieved about the same standing i did for last year will bear my statement out." [illustration: "have you any explanation to offer, mr. dalzell?"] the superintendent turned to a printed pamphlet in which were set forth the records of the midshipmen for the year before. "mr. dalzell," asked another member of the board, "do you feel that you are really suited for the life of the navy? is it your highest ambition to become an officer of the navy?" "it's my only ambition, sir, in the way of a career," dan answered solemnly. "as to my being suited for the navy, sir, i can't make a good answer to that. but i most earnestly hope that i shall have an opportunity, for the present, to try to keep myself in the service." "and you feel convinced that you need only to be carried for the balance of the term to enable you to make good, and to justify any action that we may take looking to that end?" asked another member of the board. "that is my firm conviction, sir." the superintendent, who had been silently examining and marking some statements in the pamphlet, now passed it to the nearest member of the board, who, after a glance or two, passed the pamphlet on to another member. silence fell upon the room while dan's printed record was being read. "have you anything else that you wish to say, mr. dalzell?" asked the superintendent at last. "only this, sir and gentlemen," replied dan promptly. "if i am permitted to go on with the brigade, i promise, as far as any human being may promise, that i will not only be found to have passed at the end of this term, but that i will also have a higher marking after the annual examinations than after the semi-annuals." these last few words dan spoke with his whole soul thrown into the words. how he longed to remain in the navy, now that he stood at the threshold of the life, uncertain whether he was about to be kicked across it into the outer world! after glancing around the table, the superintendent turned once more to the young man. "that will be all, at present, mr. dalzell." saluting briskly, crisply, dan wheeled about, marching from the room. he was in time to make a section recitation before dinner. "how did you come out, danny boy?" anxiously inquired dave darrin as the two, in their room, hastily prepared to answer the coming call for dinner formation. "i wish i knew," replied dalzell wistfully. "i said all that i could say without being everlastingly fresh." after the brigade had been formed for dinner, and the brigade adjutant had reported the fact, the command was given: "publish the orders!" this the brigade adjutant did rapidly, and in perfunctory tones. dalzell jumped, however, when he heard his own name pronounced. he strained his ears as the brigade adjutant read: "in the matter of daniel dalzell, summoned before the academic board to determine his fitness and aptitude for continuing in the brigade, the board has granted midshipman dalzell's urgent request that he be continued as a midshipman for the present." there was a great lump, instantly, in dan's throat. it was a reprieve, a chance for official life--but that was all. "i'll make good--i'll make good!" he told himself, with a violent gulp. the orders were ringing out sharply now. the midshipmen were being marched in to dinner. hardly a word did dalzell speak as he ate. as for dave darrin, he was too happy over his chum's respite to want to talk. yet, when they strolled together in the open air during the brief recreation period following the meal, dalzell suddenly asked: "dave when do you fight with treadwell?" "to-night, i hope," replied darrin. "oh, then i must get busy!" "why?" "why, i'm to represent you, darry. who are treadwell's--" "danny boy, don't make a fuss about it," replied dave quietly, "but just for this once you are not to be my second." "why--" "danny boy, you have just gotten by the board by a hair's breadth. what kind of an act of gratitude would it be for you to make your first act a breach of discipline? for a fight, though often necessary here, is in defiance of the regulations." "but dave, i've never been out of your fights!" "you will be this time, danny. don't worry about it, either. farley and page are going to stand by me. in fact, i think that even now they are talking with treadwell's friends." "you're wrong," murmured dalzell, looking very solemn. "here come farley and page right now." in another moment the seconds had reached darrin and his chum. "to-night?" asked dave quietly. "yes," nodded page. "time?" "just after recall." "good," murmured darrin. "you two come for me, and i'll be ready. and i thank both of you fellows for taking up the matter for me." "we'll be mighty glad to be there, darry," grinned farley, "for we look to see you finish off that first classman." "maybe," smiled dave quietly. "i'll do all i can, anyway." "and to think," almost moaned dan dalzell, "that you're to be in a scrap, david, little giant, and i'm not to be there to see!" "there'll be other fights, i'm afraid," sighed darry. "i seem destined to displease quite a few of the fellows here at annapolis." dan tried to study, that night, after darrin had left the room in the company of his seconds. certainly dan, in the light of his promise made to the board that morning, had need to study. yet he found it woefully hard to settle his mind on mathematics while dave was fighting the fight of his naval academy career. "oh, well," muttered dan, picking up a pencil for the third time, "dave and i each have our own styles of fights, just now. here goes for a knockout blow at math!" chapter xvii losing the time-keeper's count conners and brayton were treadwell's seconds. since it is not considered fair to have the referee or time-keeper from either class represented in a fight, edgerton and wheeler, of the second class, were referee and time-keeper respectively. all of the young men were early at the usual fighting ground. the fall air was cool and crisp, but it was not yet considered cold enough to justify the extra risk of holding a fight in-doors. dave was quickly stripped and made ready by his seconds. his well-developed chest bespoke fine powers in the way of "wind" and endurance. his smooth, hard, trim muscles stood out distinctly. treadwell took more time in getting himself ready for the ring. when at last, however, the first classman stood bared to the waist, he looked like a giant beside dave darrin. "it looks like a shame to take the money, tread," murmured referee edgerton. "i don't want to pound the youngster hard," explained midshipman treadwell, in an undertone. "yet i've got to teach him both to respect my class and myself." on this point, as an official of the fight, referee edgerton did not feel called upon to express an opinion. farley, at his first glimpse of the waiting first classman, felt a chill of coming disaster. "page," he growled, "that huge top-classman makes our darry look like a creeping infant." "darry will take care of himself," retorted midshipman page in an undertone. "do you believe it?" "i surely do." "but treadwell looks a whole lot more vast now that he's stripped." "darry is much smaller, i know; but darrin is one of those rare fellows who don't know what it means to be whipped. he can't be put out of business by anything smaller than a twelve-inch gun!" "i hope you're right," sighed farley. dave, in the meantime, to keep himself from being chilled by the frosty air, was running lightly about, swinging his arms. "are you both ready, gentlemen?" inquired midshipman edgerton, while time-keeper wheeler drew out his stop watch. both stepped to toe the scratch. "yes." nodded dave. "ready!" rumbled treadwell. the referee briefly made the usual announcement about it being a fight to the finish, with two-minute rounds and two minutes between rounds. "time!" as treadwell leaped forward, both fists in battery, dave took a swift, nimble sidestep. he felt that he had to study this big fellow carefully before doing more than keep on the defensive. now footwork was one of the fighting tricks for which darry was famous. yet he had too much courage to rely wholly upon it. five times treadwell swung at his smaller opponent, but each time dave was somewhere else. despite his greater size, treadwell was himself nimble and an adept at footwork. finding it hard, however, to get about as quickly as his smaller opponent, the first classman soon went in for close, in-body fighting, following dave, half-cornering him, and forcing him to stand and take it. two or three body blows dave succeeded in parrying so that they glanced, doing him little harm. then there came an almost crunching sound. treadwell's right fist had landed, almost dazing the youngster with its weight against his nose. there was a swift, free rush of the red. darrin had yielded up "first blood" in the fight. "i've got to dodge more, and not let myself be cornered," darrin told himself, keeping his fists busy in warding off blows. then, of a sudden, dave turned on the aggressive. he struck fast and furiously, but treadwell, with a grin, beat down his attack, then soon landed a swinging hook on dave's neck that sent him spinning briefly. "he expects to finish this fight for his own amusement," flashed angrily through darrin's mind. "i'll get in something that hurts before i toss the sponge." "time!" two minutes were up. to dave it seemed more like half an hour. "steady, now!" murmured page, in his principal's ear, as the two seconds leaped at the task of rubbing down their men. "unless you let yourself get rattled, darry, that big fellow isn't going to get you. whenever you're on the defensive, and being crowded hard, change like lightning and drive in for the top classer's solar plexus." "i tried that three times in this last round," murmured dave. "but the fellow is too big and powerful for me. he simply pounds me down when i go for him." "work for more strategy," whispered page, as he held a sponge to dave's battered nose, while farley rubbed the muscles of his right arm. "i haven't given up the fight," muttered dave, "but, of course, i've known from the start that treadwell is a pretty big fighter for one of my weight." "oh, you'll get him yet," spoke page confidently. the fighters were being called for the second round. in this dave received considerable punishment, though he landed three or four times on treadwell's body. then twice in succession the champion of the third class was knocked down. neither, however, was a knockout blow. dave took plenty of time, within his rights, about leaping to his feet, and in each instance got away from treadwell's leaping assault. just after the second knock-down, time was called for the end of the round. "you'll get him yet, darry," was page's prediction, but he did not speak as hopefully as before. farley, too, was full of loyalty for his friend and fellow-classman, but he did not allow this to blind his judgment. farley's opinion was that dave was done for, unless he could land some lucky fluke in a knockout blow. "go right in and land that youngster," treadwell's own seconds were advising him. "don't let him have the satisfaction of standing up to you for three whole rounds or more." "do you think that little teaser is as easy as he looks?" growled treadwell. "oh, darrin is all right at his own weight," admitted midshipman conners. "but he has no business with you, tread. you're quick enough, too, when you exert yourself. so jump right in and finish it before this round is over." "i'll try it, then," nodded treadwell. though he had not the slightest notion that he was to be defeated, this big top classman was learning a new respect for darrin's prowess. he could thrash dave, of course, but treadwell did not expect to do it easily. for the first twenty seconds of the third round the two men sparred cautiously. dave had no relish for standing the full force of those sledge-hammer blows, while treadwell knew that he must look out for the unexpected from his still nimble opponent. "lie down when you've had enough," jeered treadwell, as he landed a jolt on one of the youngster's shoulders and sent him reeling slightly. dave, however, used his feet well enough to get away from the follow-up. "are you getting tired?" darrin shot back at his opponent. "silence, both of you," commanded referee edgerton. "do all your talking with your fists!" just then treadwell saw an opening, and followed the referee's advice by aiming a blow at dave's left jaw. it landed just back of the ear, instead, yet with such force that dave sank dizzily to the ground, while treadwell drew back from the intended follow-up. farley and page looked on anxiously from their corner. midshipman wheeler, scanning his watch, was counting off the seconds. "--five, six, seven, eight, nine--ten!" at the sound of eight dave darrin had made a strenuous effort to rise. yet he had swayed, fallen back slightly, then forced himself with a rush to his feet. but midshipman treadwell drew back, both fists hanging at his sides, for the "ten" had been spoken, and dave darrin had lost the count. while dave stood there, looking half-dizzily at his opponent, referee edgerton's voice broke in crisply: "mr. darrin required more than the full count to come back. the fight is therefore awarded to mr. treadwell." chapter xviii fighting the famous double battle "it wasn't fair," hissed midshipman page hotly. "it was by a mighty small margin, anyway," quivered farley. "i don't feel whipped yet," remarked dave quietly. "oh, well, darry," urged farley, "don't feel humiliated over being thrashed by such a human mountain of a top classer." dave, whose chest had been heaving, and whose lungs had been taking in great gulps of air, suddenly pushed his second gently away. "mr. treadwell, sir, will you come over here a moment?" he called. "and also the officials of the fight?" treadwell, with a self-satisfied leer on his face, stepped away from his seconds coming jauntily over. midshipman edgerton and wheeler followed in some wonder. "mr. treadwell," began dave, looking full into the eyes of his late antagonist, "i have no fault, sir, to find with your style of fighting. you behaved fairly at every point." "thank you, sir," interjected the big midshipman grimly. "the verdict was also fair enough," dave continued, "for i am aware that i took a hair's-breadth more than the count. still, i do not feel, mr. treadwell, that the result was decisive. therefore i have to ask of you the favor of another early meeting, for a more definite try-out." treadwell gasped. so did his recent seconds and the late officials of the fight. even farley's jaw dropped just a trifle, but page's face flushed with new-found pleasure. "another fight, sir?" demanded midshipman treadwell. "yes, sir," replied darrin quietly. "oh, very well," agreed treadwell, nonchalantly. "at any time that you wish, mr. darrin--any time." "how would fifteen minutes from now do?" demanded dave, smiling coolly. treadwell fairly gasped, though only from sheer astonishment. "why, if your seconds and the officials think that fair to you, mr. darrin," replied treadwell in another moment, "i am sure that i have no objection to remaining around here a little longer." "do you insist on calling for the second fight within fifteen minutes, mr. darrin?" asked second classman edgerton. "for my own part, i do," replied dave quietly; "i leave the decision to mr. treadwell's courtesy." "well, of all the freaks!" muttered mr. wheeler, as the two fight officials walked aside to discuss the matter. "darry," demanded the agitated farley, "are you plumb, clean crazy?" "do you know what we're fighting about, farley, old man?" asked dave very quietly. "no; of course not." "it's a personal matter." "o-oh!" "it's a matter in which i can't accept an imitation whipping." "but surely you don't expect to whip treadwell in your present condition?" "i very likely shall get a thorough trouncing," smiled darrin. "it's madness," broke in page worriedly. "i told you it was a personal matter," laughed dave softly. "i shan't mind getting whacked if it is done up in good shape. it's only this near-whipping to which i object." "well--great scott!" gasped page. "hush!" warned farley. "here comes edgerton." midshipman edgerton, looking very much puzzled, stepped over to dave darrin's corner. "darrin," began the referee in a friendly tone, "tread doesn't like the idea of fighting you again to-night." "didn't he say he would?" demanded darrin. "yes; but of course, but--" "i hold him to his word, mr. edgerton." "but of all the crazy--" "i have my own reasons, sir," darrin interposed quietly. "i think it very likely, too, that mr. treadwell will comprehend my reasons." "but he doesn't like the idea of fighting an already half-whipped man." "will it get on his nerves and unsteady him?" asked dave ironically. "are you bound to fight to-night, mr. darrin?" "i am, sir." "then i suppose it goes--it has to," assented midshipman edgerton moodily. "but of all the irrational--" "just what i said, sir," nodded page. "i shall be ready, sir, when the fifteen minutes are up," continued dave. "but i am certain that i shall need all the time until then for getting myself into first-class condition." "darry is a fool--and a wonder!" ejaculated edgerton under his breath, as he walked away. "i'm sorry, darry," murmured farley mournfully, "but--well, beat your way to it!" "i intend to," retorted dave doggedly. rubbed down by his seconds, dave drew on his blouse, without a shirt. quitting the others, dave walked briskly back and forth. at last he broke into a jog-trot. at last he halted, inflating and emptying his lungs with vigorous breathing. "i feel just about as good as ever," he declared, nodding cheerily to his seconds. "get off that blouse, then," ordered midshipman farley, after a glance at his watch. "we've two minutes left out of the fifteen." "i'll go forward at the scratch, then," nodded dave. treadwell, in the meantime, had pulled on his outer clothing and had stood moodily by, watching dave's more workmanlike preparations with a disdainful smile. "i'll get the fellow going quickly this time," mr. treadwell told conners. "as soon as i get him going i'll dive in with a punch that will wind up the matter in short order. i've planned to do considerable reviewing of navigation to-night." "i hope you have your wish," murmured conners. "what do you mean?" "just what i said." "do you think i'm going to have any trouble whatever about finishing up that touge youngster!" demanded tread well sarcastically. "no; i don't imagine you will. but at the same time, tread, i tell you i don't care about having enemies among fellows who come back as swiftly, strongly and as much like a bulldog as darry does." seeing dave pull off his blouse, treadwell slowly removed his own clothing above the waist. "rub me down along the arms a bit," said midshipman treadwell, after he had exercised his arms a moment. "i reckon we'd better," nodded conners. "you must have got stiff from standing still after the late mix-up." "no kinks but what will iron out at once," chuckled treadwell. "i'll show you as soon as i get in action." his two seconds rubbed him down loyally. "are you ready, gentlemen?" called midshipman edgerton. both men stepped quickly forward, but all of the onlookers thought they saw rather more spring in dave darrin than in his more bulky opponent. the preliminaries were announced in a few words. of course, there was no handshaking. "time!" sounded the call. dave darrin quickly proved to be so full of vigor that treadwell lay back on the defensive after the first two or three passes. dave followed him right up with vim. yet, for the first forty seconds of the round no real damage was done on either side. then: bump! "o-o-oh!" that cry came simultaneously from treadwell and from all the spectators. dave's right fist had landed crushingly on the top classman's left eye, almost instantly closing that organ. darrin leaped nimbly back, both from a chivalrous impulse to give treadwell a chance to recover his steadiness and to save himself from any sudden rush and clinch by his big opponent. but treadwell, standing with his guard up, showed no inclination to follow the one who had just given him such punishment. "mix it up, gentlemen--mix it!" called midshipman edgerton impatiently. at that command from the referee dave darrin sprang forward. treadwell seemed wholly on the defensive now, though he struck as heavily as ever. toward the end of the round treadwell, having gotten over the worst of the stinging from his eye, once more tried to rush matters. whenever the big fellow's undamaged eye caught sight of the cool, hostile smile on darrin's face, treadwell muttered savage words. some hard body blows were parried and others exchanged. both men were panting somewhat when the call of time closed the first round. "darry, you nervy little rascal, waltz in and put that other eye up in black clothes!" begged page ecstatically, as he and farley worked over their principal. dave was ready quite twenty seconds before the call of time for the second round. treadwell, however, took his full time in responding. at the last moment he took another dab with the wet sponge against his swollen left eye. "time!" with a suppressed yell treadwell rushed at his opponent. dave had to sidestep to his own right, out of range of treadwell, to save himself. then at it they went, all around the ring. darrin had determined to keep himself out of the way of those sledge-hammer fists until he saw his own clear opening. four or five times treadwell landed heavily on darrin's ribs. the younger, smaller midshipman was getting seriously winded, but all the time he fought to save himself and to get that one opening. it came. pound! darrin's hard-clenched left fist dropped in on treadwell's right eye. this time there was no exclamation from the bruised one. alert dave was careful to give him no chance. within a second after that eye-closer landed darrin struck with his right, landing on the jaw bone under treadwell's ear. down in a heap sank the top classman. he was unconscious before his body struck the ground. wheeler counted off the seconds. "--ten!" still mr. treadwell lay motionless. "do your best for him, gentlemen," begged referee edgerton, turning to the first classman's seconds. "mr. darrin wins the second fight." dave, a satisfied look on his face, stepped back to his seconds. this time he did not require as much attention. within five minutes he was dressed. by this time mr. treadwell, under the ministrations of his seconds and of the late officials, was just coming back to consciousness. "something happened, eh?" asked the top classman drowsily. "rather!" murmured mr. edgerton dryly. "did i--did i--lose the fight?" "you did," edgerton assented. "but don't let that disturb you. you went down before the best man in the naval academy." treadwell sighed gloomily. it was a hard blow to his pride--much harder than any that dave had landed on his head. "mr. treadwell," inquired dave, stepping over, "we are comrades, even if we had a slight disagreement. do you care to shake hands?" "help me to my feet," urged the first classman, who was sitting up. his seconds complied. then midshipman treadwell held out his hand. "here's my hand," he said rather thickly. "and i apologize, too, mr. darrin." "then say no more about it, please," begged dave, as their hands met in a strong clasp. none of the others present had the least idea of the provocation of this strange, spirited double fight. all, however, were glad to see the difficulty mended. then dave and his seconds, leaving the field first, made their way back to bancroft hall. farley and page went straight to their own room. "how did it come out?" demanded dan dalzell eagerly, as soon as his chum entered their quarters. dropping into a chair, dave told the story of the double fight briefly. he told it modestly, too, but dan could imagine what his chum omitted. "david, little giant," exclaimed dalzell, leaping about him, "that fight will become historic here! oh, how i regret having missed it. don't you ever dare to leave me out again!" "it wasn't such a much," smiled dave rather wearily, as he went over to his study desk. "perhaps it's indiscreet, even of a chum," rambled on dalzell, "but what--" "what was the fight all about?" laughed dave softly. "yes; i suppose you have a right to know that, danny boy. but you must never repeat it to any one. treadwell wanted to dance with belle at the hop, but she had already noticed him, and declared she didn't want to dance with him. of course that settled it. but treadwell accused me of not having asked belle." "the nerve!" ejaculated dan in disgust. "and then he accused me of lying when i declared i had done my best for him," continued dave. "i feel that i'd like to fight the fellow myself!" declared dan dalzell hotly. "oh, no, you don't; for treadwell apologized to-night, and we have shaken hands. we're all comrades, you know, danny boy." * * * * * unknown to any of the parties to the fight, there had been spectators of the spirited double battle. two men, a sailor and a marine, noting groups of midshipmen going toward the historic battle ground of midshipmen, had hidden themselves near-by in order "to see the fun." these two enlisted men of the navy had been spectators and auditors of all that had taken place. not until the last midshipman had left the ground did the sailor and marine emerge from their hiding place. "well, of all the game fights!" muttered the marine. "me? i'm hoping that some day i fight under that gallant middy," cried the sailor. "who is this mr. darrin?" asked the marine, as the pair strolled away. "he's a youngster--third classman. but he's one of the chaps who, on the cruise, last summer, went over into a gale after another middy--darrin and his chum did it." "there must be fine stuff in mr. darrin," murmured the marine. "couldn't you see that much just now?" demanded the sailor, who took the remark as almost a personal affront, "my hat's off to mr. darrin. he's one of our future admirals. if i round out my days in the service it will be the height of my ambition to have him for my admiral. and a mighty sea-going officer he'll be, at that!" in their enthusiasm over the spectacle they had seen, the sailor and the marine talked rather too much. they were still talking over the battle as they strolled slowly past one of the great, darkened buildings. in the shadow of this building, not far away, stood an officer whom neither of the enlisted men of the navy saw; else they would have saluted him. that officer, lieutenant willow, u.s. navy, listened with a good deal of interest. mr. willow was one of those officers who are known as duty-mad. he gathered that there had been a fight, so he deemed it his duty to report the fact at once to the discipline officer in charge over at bancroft hall. regretting the necessity, yet full of the idea of doing his duty, lieutenant willow wended his way promptly towards the office of the officer in charge. chapter xix the officer in charge is shocked through the main entrance of bancroft hall, into the stately corridor, lieutenant willow picked his way. he looked solemn--unusually so, even for lieutenant willow, u.s.n. he had the air of a man who hates to do his duty, but who is convinced that the heavens would fall if he didn't. to his left he turned, acknowledging smartly the crisp salute given him by the midshipman assistant officer of the day. into the outer office of the officer in charge stepped mr. willow, and thence on into the smaller room where lieutenant-commander stearns sat reading. "oh, good evening, willow," hailed lieut. stearns heartily. "good evening, stearns," was the almost moody reply. "sit down and let's have a chat. i'm glad to see you," urged lieutenant-commander stearns. mr. stearns, he of the round, jovial face, gazed at his junior with twinkling eyes. "willow," he muttered, "i'm half inclined to believe that you've come to me to make an official report." "i guess i have," nodded lieutenant willow. "and against some unfortunate midshipman, at that!" "against two, at least," sighed mr. willow, "and there were others involved in the affair." "it must be something fearful," said mr. stearns, who knew the junior officer's inclination to be duty-mad. "but, see here, if you make an official report you'll force me to take action, even though it's something that i'd secretly slap a midshipman on the shoulder for doing. no--don't begin to talk yet, willow. try a cigar and then tell me, personally, what's worrying you. then perhaps it won't be altogether needful to make an official report." "i never was able to take you--er--somewhat jovial views of an officer's duty, stearns," sighed lieutenant willow. nevertheless, he selected a cigar, bit off the end, lighted it and took a few whiffs, lieutenant-commander stearns all the while regarding his comrade in arms with twinkling eyes. "now, fire ahead, willow," urged the officer in charge, "but please don't make your communication an official one--not at first. fire ahead, now, willow." "well--er--just between ourselves," continued lieutenant willow slowly, "there has been a fight to-night between two midshipmen." "no!" lieutenant-commander stearns struck his fist rather heavily against the desk. "a fight--a real fight--with fists?" continued the officer in charge, in a tone of mock incredulity. "no, no, no, willow, you don't mean it--you can't mean it!" "yes, i do," rejoined the junior officer rather stiffly. "oh, dear, what is the service coming to?" gasped stearns ironically. "why, willow, we never heard of such things when we were midshipmen here. now, did we?" "i'm afraid we did--sometimes," admitted the junior officer. "but duty is duty, you know, my dear stearns. and this was an unusual fight, too. the man who was whipped insisted on another fight right then and there, and--he won the second fight." "bully!" chuckled the officer in charge. "whew, but i wish i had been there!" "stearns, you surely don't mean that?" gasped duty-mad mr. willow. "you're quite right, willow. no; i certainly don't want to be a spoilsport, and i'm glad i wasn't there--in my official capacity. but i'd like to have been divested of my rank for just an hour so that i could have taken in such a scene as that." "i'm--i'm just a bit astonished at your saying it, stearns," rejoined lieutenant willow. "but then, you're always joking." "perhaps i am joking," assented the officer in charge dryly, "but i never lose sight of the fact that our navy has been built up, at huge expense, as a great fighting machine. now, willow, it takes fighting men to run a fighting machine. of course, i'm terribly shocked to know that two midshipmen really had the grit to fight--but who were they! mind you, i'm not asking you in an official way. this question is purely personal--just between ourselves. who were the men? and, especially, who was the fellow who lost the decision, and then had the utter effrontery to demand a second chance at once, only to win the second fight?" "darrin was the man who lost the first fight and won the second," replied lieutenant willow. "mr. darrin? one of our youngsters? yes; i think i know him. and what man of his class did he whip, the second time he tried!" "it wasn't a man of his own class. it was mr. treadwell, of the first class," rejoined lieutenant willow. "what?" almost exploded the officer in charge. "did you say that mr. darrin fought with mr. treadwell, that husky top classman, and, losing the decision on the count, insisted on fighting again the same evening? oh, say, what a fellow misses by being cooped up in an office like this!" "but--but the breach of regulations!" stammered the duty-mad lieutenant. "my dear fellow, neither you nor i know anything about this fight--officially. the navy, after all, is a fighting machine. do you feel that the navy can afford to lose a fighting man like that youngster?" so lieutenant willow left lieutenant-commander stearns' presence, not quite convinced he was performing his whole duty, but glad to bow to the decision of a ranking officer. two days later dave and dan were surprised at being halted by lieutenant-commander stearns. "good afternoon, mr. darrin," came the pleasant greeting. "good afternoon, mr. dalzell. mrs. stearns and i would be greatly pleased if you could take dinner with us. couldn't you come next sunday?" the two midshipmen were astonished and delighted at this invitation. while it was not uncommon for officers to invite midshipmen to their homes, where there were so many midshipmen, it was as a rule only the young men who made themselves prominent socially who captured these coveted invitations. darrin and dalzell concealed their surprise, but expressed their pleasure in accepting the gracious invitation. on entering mrs. stearns' drawing room the next sunday mr. darrin and mr. dalzell were introduced to two pretty girls. miss flora gentle was a cousin of their hostess. she had visited annapolis before, and, being pretty and vivacious, at the same time kind and considerate, she had many friends among the midshipmen. marian stevens, who had accompanied her on this visit, was a direct contrast. flora was blonde. marian was the dark, flashing type. she was spoiled and imperious, yet she had a dashing, open way about her that made her a favorite among young people. the two girls had heard of the double fight. marian, therefore, was pleased when she found that dave was to be her dinner partner. "he's handsome," thought the girl, "and he's brave and dashing. he'll make his mark in the navy. he doesn't know it yet, but he'll become mine, and mine alone." miss stevens was a calculating young person, and had already decided that navy life was the life for her and that she would marry into it. at seventeen, she looked upon the officers as old men, even the youngest of them, so was giving her time and her smiles to the midshipmen. that the navy pay is small did not trouble maid marian, as she liked to be called, as on her twenty-first birthday she would come into a considerable fortune of her own. she exerted herself all through the stearns' dinner to captivate dave darrin. he, without diminution of love and loyalty to belle mead, was glad to be on friendly terms with this dashing and sprightly girl. coffee was served in the drawing room. several officers dropped in. marian, who wished no one to come between her and dave for a while, turned to her host. "mr. stearns, do the regulations make it improper for flora and me to ask mr. darrin and mr. dalzell to take us for a stroll about the yard?" she asked with a pretty air of deference. the "yard" includes all the grounds belonging to the naval academy. "they do not, miss marian," was the smiling response. "with our hostess's approval we shall be charmed to grant any request the young ladies make," ventured dave, as marian smiled into his eyes. but marian, the wily and experienced, found herself baffled during this walk. using all her cajoleries, she could bring him to a certain point beyond which he would not go. as a matter of fact, dave darrin, secure in his loyalty to belle, did not perceive what maid marian was striving to lead up to, but saw in her only a lively and interesting girl. "i'll get you yet, midshipman darrin," she vowed to herself after they had parted. the gossip of a sweetheart in his home town which in time reached her ears only made the girl more determined to get her way. looking in the mirror with satisfaction, she murmured: "there'll be the added zest of making midshipman darrin forget the distant face of that home girl." not on that visit did maid marian succeed in leading dave beyond the point of simple but sincere friendship. however, miss stevens could be charming to whomsoever she wished, and before she left annapolis she had secured invitations to visit the wife of more than one of the officers. chapter xx conclusion christmas came and went, and soon after this the semi-annual examinations were on in earnest. some of the midshipmen failed and sadly turned their faces homeward to make a place for themselves in some other lane of life. dan dalzell, however, made good his promise, and by a better margin than he had dared hope. dave came through the examination somewhat better than his chum. both felt assured now that they would round out the year with fair credit to themselves. marian stevens came to annapolis several times during the latter half of the year, and as it is expected that the future officer shall have social as well as naval training, dave darrin met her often. exasperation that she could draw the young midshipman on only so far soon changed in miss stevens to anger and chagrin. still dave, giving prolonged thought to no girl except belle meade, saw in her only a lively companion. sometimes he was her dinner partner. always at a dance he danced with her more than once. it was at one such dance that she looked up as they circled the room to say: "i wonder if you know, mr. darrin, how much i enjoy dancing with you." "not as much as i enjoy dancing with you," he replied smilingly. just then the music stopped suddenly and an officer called in a voice that carried over the great floor of the gymnasium and over all the chatter: "ladies and gentlemen, one moment's attention, please!" in an instant all was still. "ladies and gentlemen," continued the officer, "official permission has been granted for taking a flashlight photograph of the scene to-night. will everybody please remain where he is until after the exposure has been made?" dave and marian had paused directly in front of the lens of the camera. maid marian looked up and made a light, jesting remark, gazing straight into the midshipman's eyes. dave, smiling, bent forward to hear what she said. just then came the flash, and the photographer, his work finished for the time, gathered his paraphernalia together and left. the music recommenced and the dancing proceeded. three weeks later that photograph was reproduced as a double-page illustration in one of the prominent pictorial weeklies. the day the magazine was on the newsstands dan dalzell bought a copy. entering their quarters with it in his hand he opened it at the illustration and handed it to dave. "you and miss stevens show up better than any one else, dave," remarked dan. "the photograph is a good piece of work," was dave's only comment. he did not wish to express the annoyance he felt when he noted the appearance of intimacy between him and marian, whose beauty showed, even in this reproduction. "i'd a bit rather belle shouldn't see this paper," he admitted to himself. "david, old boy, this picture would make a good exhibit in a breach-of-promise suit." "that's an unkind remark to make about a fine girl like miss stevens," said dave coldly. dan stared, then went off, pondering. belle meade, in her gridley home, received one day a large, square, thin package. she saw the mark of the annapolis express office, and hastily snatched up scissors to cut the string. out came a huge photograph. "a picture of an annapolis dance! how thoughtful of dave to send it to me!" then her eyes fell on two figures around which a ring had been drawn in ink. they were dave darrin and a pretty girl. on the margin of the card had been scrawled in bold letters: "your affair of the heart will bear close watching if you still cherish!" this was signed, contemptibly and untruthfully, "a friend." "uh!" murmured belle in hurt pride and loyalty. then she said resolutely to herself: "i will pay no attention to this. an anonymous communication is always meant to hurt and to give a false impression." but there was the picture before her eyes of dave and the pretty girl in seemingly great intimacy. so though she continued to write to the midshipman and tried hard to make her letters sound as usual, in spite of herself a coldness crept into them that dave felt. "she must have seen that pictorial weekly," thought the boy miserably. but as belle said nothing of this, he could not write of it. the season was well along. dave and dan sent belle meade and laura bentley invitations to one of the later spring dances. "i wonder if she'll come or if she's tiring of me," thought dave darrin bitterly. but belle answered, accepting the invitation for laura and herself. when saturday afternoon came both midshipmen hurried to the hotel in the town and sent up their cards. mrs. meade soon appeared, saying the girls would be down shortly. "are they both well?" asked dave. his tone was as one giving a meaningless greeting, but in his heart he waited anxiously to hear what her mother should say of belle. "well, yes. but belle has been moping around the house a great deal, dave, rather unlike her usual self," replied mrs. meade slowly. if mrs. meade deplored this, dave darrin did not. it showed him at least that the girl's apparent coldness was not caused by her interest in some other young man. but when the girls came in and belle greeted him cordially, to be sure, but with something of restraint, his heart sank again. "what's the matter, belle? has something gone wrong?" asked dave when dan was engaging the attention of mrs. meade and laura. "nothing. is all right with you?" "surely!" "dave, when we're alone i have something to show you. i fear you have an enemy here." "an enemy! oh, no. but i shall be glad to see what you have to show me." it was not long before, at a word from dave, dan took mrs. meade and laura out for a walk. it was then that belle got the large photograph with the two figures ringed in ink and showed it to dave. "why, what does this mean? some one must have taken a good deal of trouble to secure this photograph. the picture was taken for a pictorial weekly. one can get a photograph from which the cut is made, but it is troublesome and possibly expensive!" "you have an enemy, then; some one bent on hurting you?" "i don't know who it could be. my, how angry miss stevens would be if she knew of this!" "miss stevens? is that the girl?" "yes. she's visited here often this year. she knows a number of the officers' wives. she's vivacious and always has a good time, but she's nothing to me, belle. you know that, don't you?" "i have never doubted you, dave. let us tear this up. i thought at first i'd not show it to you; then decided it was best not to begin concealing things from you. but let us not think of the thing again." "belle, you're a thoroughbred!" and here the matter dropped as far as it was between dave darrin and belle meade. miss stevens was at the dance that evening. though she tried hard to make that impossible, dave did not dance with her, nor did he introduce her to belle, though there again marian tried to force this. it would have been well for marian if dan dalzell had been equally circumspect. this time it was belle who contrived and got the introduction to the other girl, but marian was by no means reluctant, so it was that they managed to get a few moments alone together when they had sent their dance partners to get something for them. "you are a friend of dave's, aren't you?" asked marian. "of mr. darrin's? oh, yes, we've always known each other." "then you've been here to many of these dances?" "only two." "too bad you could not have been here oftener. this has been an unusually brilliant season. really, many of the young people have lost their heads--or their hearts. i often wonder if these midshipmen have sweethearts at home." this daring--and impertinent--remark was made musingly but smilingly. "these annapolis affairs are never very serious, i imagine," belle observed calmly. "on the contrary, most of the navy marriages date back to an annapolis first meeting." "then you think it well to come often?" "unless one has other ways of keeping in touch," was the brazen reply. "i have," said belle sweetly. "i receive a good many souvenirs in the course of a year. one last winter was a photograph." with the words belle gazed intently into miss stevens' eyes. then she went on: "there was an anonymous message written on it. it was a lying message, of course, as anonymous messages always are, written in a coarse hand. did you ever study handwriting, miss stevens?" marian gasped, realizing she was out-maneuvered. "this writing had all the characteristics of a woman whose instincts are coarse, that of a treacherous though not dangerous person--" "here's mr. sanderson back. will you excuse me, miss meade?" and marian fairly fled. belle told dave she had found out who had sent the photograph, but added: "i wish you wouldn't ask me who it was, dave. i can assure you that the person who did it will never trouble us again," and as dave did not like to think evil of any one, he consented, and continued to think of marian stevens, when he thought of her at all, as a jolly girl. the annual examinations were approaching. dan dalzell was buried deep in gloom. dave darrin kept cheerful outwardly, but doubts crept into his heart. the examinations over, dave felt reasonably safe. but dan's gloom deepened, for he was sure he had failed in "skinny," as the boys termed chemistry and physics. so it was that when the grades were posted dave scanned the d's in the list of third classmen who had passed. dan, on the other hand, turned instantly to what he termed the "bust list." "why, why, i'm not there!" he muttered. "look at the passing list, danny," laughed dave. unbelieving, dan turned his eyes on the list and to his utter astonishment found his name posted. true, in "skinny" he had a bare passing mark. but in other subjects he was somewhat above the minimum. "so you see, old man, we'll both be here next year as second classmen," said dave jubilantly. this was as dave darrin said, and what happened during this time may be learned in a volume entitled, "dave darrin's third year at annapolis; or, leaders of the second class midshipmen." the end dave darrin's first year at annapolis two plebe midshipmen at the united states naval academy by h. irving hancock contents chapters i. two admirals in the bud ii. the first day at the naval academy iii. a taste of hazing iv. the "youngsters" who became "spoons on" v. invited to join the "frenchers" vi. dave passes the lie vii. on the field of the code viii. the man who won ix. dan just can't help being "touge" x. "just for exercise!" xi. midshipman henkel does some thinking xii. a chronic pap frapper xiii. midshipman farley's about-face xiv. the trap in midshipman's quarters xv. air "the rogue's march" xvi. brimmer makes a new friend xvii. tony baits the hook xviii. in the days of "old two-five" xix. the collision of the chesapeake xx. in the line of duty xxi. official and other report xxii. the "bazoo" makes trouble xxiii. the spectre at the fight party xxiv. conclusion chapter i two admiral's in the bud "dave, i'm getting nervous!" "is that the best way you can find to enjoy yourself?" demanded the taller boy. "but i am, dave--dreadfully nervous!" insisted dan dalzell positively. "well, you'll have to conceal it, then. the doctors at the united states naval academy won't pass any nervous wrecks," laughed dave darrin. "don't you understand?" demanded dan, in a hurt voice. "the nearer we get to annapolis the more nervous i'm getting." "you'd better drop off, then," hinted dave ironically, "and take the next car back to odenton and baltimore. what earthly good would a naval officer be who was going to get nervous as soon as he came in sight of an enemy?" "but i wouldn't get nervous in the sight the enemy," flared up dan dalzell. "then why get nervous about the folks down at the naval academy? they all intend to be your friends!" "i guess that is true," dan went on. "of course, back in april, we went before the civil service commission and took our academic examinations. we passed, and haven't got that to go up against again." "we passed the home medical examiner, too," retorted dave. "in fact, you might say that we passed the sawbones with honors. "but that medical chap put in a long time listening at my chest," complained dan dalzell, who was undeniably fidgeting in his seat. "then, too, the civil service sawbones told me that, while he passed me, as far as he was concerned, i'd have to stand the ordeal again before the naval surgeons at annapolis." "well, he did just the same thing with me," rejoined darrin. "you just keep your eye on me, dan! do you see me shaking? do you hear my voice falter? see me burning any blue lights? "perhaps, dave, you don't take the whole business as much to heart as i do," continued dan dalzell almost tremulously. "why, great scott, if they drop me at the naval academy, i'll be the bluest fellow you ever saw! but maybe you won't care, dave, whether you are dropped or not." "won't i?" grumbled darrin. "the navy is the only thing in life that i care about!" "then aren't you nervous, just now?" demanded dan. "if i am, i'm not making a show of myself," retorted darrin. "but are you nervous?" begged dan. "no!" roared dave, and then he allowed a grin to creep over his face. "oh, go ahead and say so tonight," jeered dan. "tomorrow, if you have the good luck to get sworn in, you'll have to quit fibbing and begin practicing at telling the truth. a midshipman at the naval academy, i understand, is kicked out of the service if he tells lies." "not quite--only in case he gets caught," laughed dave darrin. "but really, about being nervous--" "oh, forget that sort of nonsense, won't you, dan, old fellow?" begged his chum. "just get your eye on the lovely country we're going through." it was just about the first of june. our two young travelers had come by train, from baltimore to a little country junction. thence they had traveled, briefly, by trolley, to odenton. there, after a wait of some minutes, they had boarded another trolley car, and were now bowling along through the open country of that part of maryland. at the end of their journey lay the historic little town of annapolis. it was now after seven o'clock; still daylight, the fag end of a beautiful june day in maryland. dave darrin and dan dalzell had been appointed as midshipmen at the united states naval academy. if they should succeed in passing the four years' course in the big government school at annapolis, they would then be sent to sea for two years, as midshipmen, after which they would return to annapolis for their final examinations. passing these last examinations, they would then be commissioned as ensigns in the united states navy, with the possibility of some day becoming full-fledged admirals. readers of our high school boys series have no need of further introduction to dave and dan. these two young men will be remembered as former members of dick & co., six famous chums back in the lively little city of gridley. dick prescott, greg holmes, dave darrin, dan dalzell, tom reade and harry hazleton had composed the famous sextette who, in their day at gridley high school, had been fast chums and leaders in all pertaining to high school athletics in their part of the state. following their high school days, however, the six chums had become somewhat widely scattered. dick prescott and greg holmes secured appointments to the united states military academy. readers of our west point series are already familiar with the stirring doings and life of dick and greg at the fine old army academy on the hudson. at the time this present narrative opens dick and greg had been nearly three months as plebe cadets, as told in the first volume of the west point series, under the title, "dick prescott's first year at west point." tom reade and harry hazleton had gone from gridley high school to the far west, where they had connected themselves with a firm of civil engineers engaged in railway construction. what befell tom and harry is told in "the young engineers in colorado," the first and very entertaining volume in the young engineers series. readers of "the high school captain of the team" recall how dave darrin won his appointment to the naval academy, as did dick prescott his chance for west point, from the congressman of the home district. dalzell's appointment, on the other hand, came from one of the two united states senators from that state. and here dave and dan were, on a trolley car from odenton, rapidly nearing annapolis. at the forward end of the car was a small compartment set apart for the use of smokers dave and dan did not smoke; they had take seats in this compartment because they wished to be alone. "you asked me to let you know when we got near annapolis, gentlemen," announced the conductor, a cheery-faced young man, thrusting his head in. "there is the town right ahead of you." "you said that you go by the hotel, i think?" dave asked. "i'll stop and call the hotel," replied the conductor. "we'll be there in less than two minutes." it was a quaint, old-fashioned, very pretty southern town that the car now entered. "i'll bet they're a thousand years behind the times here," sighed dalzell, as they gazed about them. "not at the naval academy, anyway," retorted dave darrin. "oh, of course not," dan made haste to agree. the car passed an imposing-looking brick building that housed the post-office, then sped along past the handsome, dignified old residence of the governor of maryland. up on a hill at their left the state capitol stood out. then the car bell clanged, and the car stopped. "maryland hotel!" called the conductor. dave and dan caught up their suit cases and descended from the car. at their right, the found the steps leading to the porch of the roomy old hotel. in another moment they were in the office, registering. "you want a room together, gentlemen?" asked the clerk. "surely," retorted dan. "my friend is always afraid when the gas is turned off. my presence quiets him." "pardon me, gentlemen, but are you on your way to the naval academy?" queried the clerk. "yes," nodded dave quietly. "then you will want a room with bath, of course. you'll have to strip before the medical examiners tomorrow. "a room with bath, of course," assented dan. "i never have stopped at a hotel without a bathroom." dan didn't mention that this was the first time he had ever stopped at a hotel in his short life. "front!" called the clerk. a small black boy in knee trousers came forward, picked up their suit cases and led the way to the next floor. "my! i wonder who else is expected," muttered dalzell, as the two young travelers found themselves in their room after the boy had left them. it was an enormous room, and the three beds in it did not crowd the apartment in the least. all the furniture was of a massive and old-fashioned pattern. a few minutes later, with face and hands washed--clean collars, clothes neatly brushed, the two clear-eyed, manly-looking young fellows returned to the first floor. "i suppose this hotel is full of young men like ourselves, wondering what tomorrow will bring them, when they get before the sawbones," muttered dan. "candidates, like ourselves, you mean?" suggested darrin. "we'll inquire." with that, he approached the clerk and made the inquiry. "oh, no," replied the clerk, in answer to dave's question. "there are only two other candidates besides yourselves stopping here. there are a good many young men in town, of course, but most of them have been here for some weeks, and are in lodging houses. a good many young men come here, you know, to attend the naval preparatory schools before they go up for their examinations." "we've had our academic examinations, and have passed," announced dan. "what about supper, sir?" asked dave, who, in his short trip through the south, had noticed that in this part of the country the "sir" is generally employed. "you'll find supper ready, gentlemen," replied the clerk, pointing the way to the dining room. so the two young men passed in and enjoyed their first sample of southern cookery. at this hour there were only a half dozen other people in the dining room--none of them interesting, darrin decided, after hastily surveying the other diners. the meal over, the two young candidates sauntered again out into the hotel office. "any midshipmen out around the town, sir?" darrin asked. "hardly, sir," replied the clerk, with a smile. "at this hour the young gentlemen are in their rooms at bancroft hall." "what does a midshipman look like?" ventured dalzell. "like a human being, of course," dave laughed. "you mean the uniform?" inquired the clerk. "a midshipman, sir, wears a dark blue uniform, like an officer's, and a visored cap, naval pattern. he also wears the anchor insignia on each side of his coat collar." dave and dan soon walked over to the open doorway and stood looking out upon the street, in which, at this time, few people were passing. hearing a step in the office, dan quickly turned. he saw a young man coming through the office, holding himself very erect. this young man was in dark blue uniform, with visored cap, and on each side of his collar was the anchor insignia. past the anchor were two bars, but dalzell didn't notice that at the moment. "there's a real midshipman," whispered dan, plucking at dave's sleeve. "i'm going to speak to him." "don't you do it," warned dave, in an undertone. "you may make a mistake." "mistake?" echoed dan. "with that anchor on his collar?" hastily dan dalzell slipped back into the office, going up to the young man in uniform, who had stopped before the desk. "good evening," began dan politely. "i'd like to introduce myself. 'tomorrow i expect to be one of the crowd. you're a midshipman, aren't you?" "i'm an officer of the navy," replied the uniformed stranger coldly, as he half turned to glance briefly at dalzell. "you are a candidate, i suppose? then i fancy you will report at the superintendent's office in the morning." with that the naval officer turned away, leaving poor dalzell feeling decidedly dumfounded. "wasn't that a midshipman?" gasped dan, in a whisper. "that gentleman is a lieutenant in the navy," replied the clerk, with a slight smile. crestfallen dan hurried back to darrin, brushing off his sleeves with his hands as he walked. "served you right; you must get over being fresh," dave darrin rebuked his chum. "but what is the matter with your sleeves?" "i'm brushing the frost off of them," murmured dan dejectedly. "did you notice the ice-bath that fellow threw over me?" "come out for a walk," urged dave. "but be careful where you step and what you say to others." the two young men strolled down the street. "well," smiled darrin, "i must say, dan, that you appear to be getting all over your nervousness." "no; i'm still nervous," protested dan. "before, i was afraid i wouldn't get into the naval academy. now, i'm only afraid that i shall." "what nonsense are you talking now?" demanded darrin, giving his chum a sharp look. "why, if they're all going to be as chesty as that near-officer i spoke to in the hotel," blinked dan, "i'm not so sure that i want to go in with the bunch." "that officer wasn't either chesty or snobbish," rejoined darrin. "then you will kindly explain what he tried to do to me?" "that's easy enough. that naval officer recognized in you a rather common type--the too-chummy and rather fresh american boy. down here in the service, where different grades in rank exist, it is necessary to keep the fresh greenhorn in his place." "oh!" muttered dan, blinking hard. "as to your not wanting to go into the service," dave continued, "if you should fail, tomorrow, in your physical examination, you would be as blue as indigo, and have the blue-light signal up all the way back home." "i don't know but that is so. yes; i guess it is," dalzell assented. "now, there are at least ninety-nine chances in a hundred that you're going to pass the navy doctors all right, dan," his chum went on. "if you do, you'll be sworn into the naval service as a midshipman. then you'll have to keep in mind that you're not an admiral, but only a midshipman--on probation, at that, as our instructions from the navy department inform us. now, as a new midshipman, you're only the smallest, greenest little boy in the whole service. just remember that, and drop all your jolly, all your freshness and all your patronizing ways. just listen and learn, dan, and study, all the time, how to avoid being fresh. if you don't do this, i'm mighty confident that you're up against a hard and tough time, and that you'll have most of the other midshipmen down on you from the start." "any more 'roast' for me?" asked dalzell plaintively. "no; for, if you need any more, you'll get it from other midshipmen, who don't know you as well as i do, and who won't make any allowances for your greenness and freshness." "my!" murmured dan enthusiastically. "won't i quiver with glee the first time i see you being called for twelve-inch freshness!" yet, despite their wordy encounters, the two remained, as always, the best and most loyal of friends. for an hour and a half the two youngsters roamed about annapolis, taking many interested looks at quaint old buildings that had stood since long before the revolutionary war. at last they turned back to the hotel, for, as dalzell suggested, they needed a long night's sleep as a good preparation for going before the naval surgeons on the next day. five minutes after they had turned out the gas dave darrin was soundly, blissfully asleep. in another bed in the same room dan dalzell tossed for fully half an hour ere sleep caught his eyelids and pinned them down. in his slumber, however, dan dreamed that he was confronting the superintendent of the naval academy and a group of officers, to whom he was expounding the fact that he was right and they were wrong. what the argument was about dan didn't see clearly, in his dream, but he had the satisfaction of making the superintendent and most of the naval officers with him feel like a lot of justly-rebuked landsmen. chapter ii the first day at the naval academy a few minutes before nine o'clock, the next morning, dave and dan were strolling through lover's lane, not far from the administration building at the united states naval academy. their instructions bade them report at 9.15. dan was for going in at once and "calling on" the aide to the superintendent. but this dave vetoed, holding that the best thing for them to do was to stick to the very letter of their orders. so, as they waited, the young men got a glimpse of the imposing piles of buildings that compose the newer naval academy. especially did handsome, big, white bancroft hall enchain their admiration. this structure is one of the noblest in the country. in it are the midshipmen's mess, the midshipmen's barracks for a thousand young men, numerous offices and a huge recreation hall. "that's a swell hotel where they're going to put us up for four years, isn't it?" demanded dan. "i fancy that we'll find it something more--or less--than a hotel, before we're through it," was dave's prophetic reply. as, at this time in the morning, all of the enrolled midshipmen were away at one form or another of drill or instruction, the central grounds were so empty of human life that the onlooker could form no idea of the immense, throbbing activity that was going on here among the hundreds of midshipmen on duty. "here's some of our kind," spoke dan, at last, as he espied more than a dozen young men, in citizen's dress, strolling along under the trees. "i guess they're candidates, fast enough," nodded darrin, after briefly looking at the approaching group. "cheap-looking lot, most of them, aren't they?" asked dalzell cheerfully. "probably they're saying the same thing about us," chuckled dave dryly. "let 'em, then. who cares?" muttered dalzell. "dan, my boy, i reckon you'll need to put the soft pedal on your critical tendencies," warned dave. "and, if you want my friendly opinion, i've a big idea that you're going to talk your way into a lot of trouble here." "trouble?" grinned dalzell. "well, i'm used to it." in truth dan had been victor in many a hard-fought schoolboy disagreement, as readers of the high school boys series are aware. as the young men in question drew nearer they eyed darrin and dalzell with a disapproval that was not wholly concealed. the truth was that dave and dan were recognized as not being boys who had studied at one of the naval prep. schools in annapolis. the assumption was, therefore, that dave and dan had not been able to afford such a luxury. "good morning, gentlemen," was dave's pleasant greeting. "you are candidates, like ourselves, i take it?" this fact being acknowledged, dave introduced himself and his friend, and soon some pleasant new acquaintances were being formed, for darrin had a way that always made him popular with strangers. "have you two got to go up before the june exams. here?" asked one of the young men, who had introduced himself as grigsby. "part of it," grinned dan. "we've already gone through the primer tests and the catechism, and that sort of thing; but we still have to go before the barber and the toilet specialists and see whether our personal appearance suits." "you're lucky, then," replied grigsby. "our crowd all have to take the academic exams." "cheer up," begged dan. "any baby can go past the academic exams. arithmetic is the hardest part. one funny chap on the civil service commission nearly got me by asking me how much two and two are, but darrin saved me, just in the nick of time, by holding up five fingers; so i knew the answer right off." some of the candidates were already surveying dan with a good deal of amusement. they had heard much of the severe way upper classmen at the naval academy have of taking all the freshness out of a new man, and, like dave, these other candidates scented plenty of trouble ahead for cheerful, grinning dan dalzell. "gentlemen," broke in dave quietly, "do you see the time on the clock over on the academic building? it's nine-fourteen. what do you say if we step promptly over to the administration building and plunge into what's ahead of us?" "good enough," nodded one of the new acquaintances. "suppose you lead the way?" so, with dan by his side, dave piloted the others over to the administration building, just beyond the chapel. as they stepped inside, and found themselves in a hallway, a marine orderly confronted them. "candidates, gentlemen? walk right upstairs. an orderly there will direct you to the office of the superintendent's aide." "thank you," replied dave, with a bow, and led the way upstairs. near the head of the stairs another marine, in spick-and-span uniform, wearing white gloves and with a bayonet at his belt, called out quietly: "candidates? first two, step this way please." he swung open a door. dave and dan stepped into an office where they found a young-looking though slightly bald gentleman in uniform, seated behind a flat-top desk. "we have come to report, sir, according to our instructions," announced dave darrin, happily. "you are candidates, then?" asked lieutenant-commander graham, reaching for a pile of bound sheets. "yes, sir." "names? "david darrin and daniel dalzell, sir." "have you your papers, mr. darrin?" "yes, sir." dave drew an official-looking envelope from an inner pocket and handed it to lieutenant-commander graham. these the naval aide scanned closely, after which he looked up. "you have your papers, mr. dalzell?" "yes," nodded dan. a more than perceptible frown flashed across the face of the officer. "mr. dalzell, whenever you answer an officer you will say 'yes, sir,' or 'very good, sir.'" rather red in the face dan handed over his envelope. mr. graham examined these papers, too. then, pulling a pile of blanks before him, he filled out two, bearing the names of the young men, and signed them, after which he handed one of the signed blanks to each. "mr. darrin, you will inquire of the orderly downstairs your way to the office of the commandant of midshipmen. you will then at once present yourself before the commandant, handing him this paper." "yes, sir; thank you, sir," replied dave, with a slight bow. "mr. dalzell, stick close to your friend and you will find out what to do." "yes, sir," murmured dan, again reddening. the orderly below directed the two young men how to proceed to the main entrance of bancroft hall, there to turn to their left and inquire again their way to the commandant's office. "you see," lectured dave pleasantly, as the chums plodded along one of the walks, "you have already received your first lesson. you answered the superintendent's aide without saying 'sir.' you'll have to work out of this freshness." "that wasn't freshness; it was ignorance," protested dalzell. "don't you worry, dave; i shall soon get the naval trotting gait to such an extent that i shall be saying 'sir' at every other word." this declaration was more prophetic than dalzell could guess at that moment. each lad had a queer feeling at heart as he began to climb the long series of white steps that lead to the main entrance to bancroft hall. what would be the outcome? were they hence-forth to find this huge pile "home" for four years to come? would they, through all after life, look back upon this great government training school as their alma mater? it all seemed to depend, now, on the verdict of the examining naval surgeons! but there was little time for thought. once inside, they were ushered, by a white-gloved midshipman, into the office of commander jephson, commandant of midshipmen. that gentleman, also in uniform, as were all navy officers on duty at the academy, looked briefly as the two young men stood before him. "candidates, gentlemen?" "yes, sir," replied dave. "your orders?" each young man handed over the slip given him by the aide. commander jephson scanned each sheet closely, then made some entries on a set of papers of his own. next the commandant touched a button on his desk. almost immediately footsteps were heard outside. another white-gloved midshipman entered, raising his hand smartly to his cap in salute. this salute the commandant acknowledged in kind. "mr. salisbury, conduct candidates darrin and dalzell outside. ascertain how soon the surgeons will be ready to examine them, and conduct the candidates to the board room at the time assigned for their examination." "very good, sir," replied midshipman salisbury, in measured tones. again the inter-change of salutes, after which midshipman salisbury led dave and dan to an outer office. "wait here," directed the midshipman briefly, "i'll let you know when it's time to go to the board room." five minutes later the midshipman again approached them. by this time there were seven more candidates in the room. the aide to the superintendent and the commandant were passing the young men quickly through the mill. "mr. darrin, mr. dalzell!" called the midshipman master of ceremonies. as dave and dan started to their feet their conductor added: "follow me to the board room." down the corridor and into the board room the two chums were led. there, awaiting them, they found three naval medical officers, all in their proper uniform and one of them seated at a desk. "strip, with the least delay possible," ordered the senior surgeon. in a very short space of time dave and dan stood forth, minus clothes and, it must be confessed, both very nervous as to what these medical men might or might not find. thorough, indeed, was the examination, which began with the heart. but it went much further, including the hair, scalp, eyes, teeth, the condition of the tonsils, the appearance of the tongue, and so on, by regular stages, down to the soles of their feet. "if there's a square quarter of an inch these fellows have missed, i didn't notice it," muttered dan to himself. "you may dress, mr. darrin," announced the senior surgeon, and dave went to the chair on which his clothing lay. "mr. dalzell, come here a moment" dan began to feel queer. what had they missed? on what point was his physical condition doubtful? "open your mouth," directed one of the surgeons. then followed some more exploration of his teeth. "oh," murmured dan, when the medical men gave him a rest for a moment. "it's only my teeth, eh? that's not a vitally important point, is it, sir?" "we reject candidates for what might seem very slight defects of the teeth," replied the senior surgeon, with emphasis. "open your mouth again." the cold ooze stood out on dan's brow this time. joke as he might, he did not want to be dropped out of the navy. were these medical officers going to find, in his mouth, the clue his disqualification? "hm!" said the senior surgeon, watching while another medical officer did the probing and the holding of the dental mirrors. that "hm!" sent a cold chill of dread coursing down young daniel's spine. "your teeth just about pass," remarked the senior officer. "you may dress, mr. dalzell." it was not long before dave and dan both had their clothing on. as dan was finishing, dave turned to the senior surgeon. "is it improper, sir, for me to ask whether we have passed?" asked darrin quietly. "you have both passed," nodded the surgeon. "mr. dalzell, however, will do well to take the most wholesome care of his teeth hereafter." just then the door opened and two more candidates were shown in. "come with me," directed the same midshipman master of ceremonies. dan was indiscreet enough to range up alongside their conductor, just missing a vigorous nudge that dave tried to give him. "well, we slipped by the drug-store sign all right," dan confided to the white-gloved midshipman. "now, how soon do we get our messenger-boy uniforms? "never, i hope," replied their conductor frigidly, "unless you can learn to speak of the uniform of the service with more respect." dan fell back abashed. his style of humor, he was fast discovering, did not seem to make a hit at annapolis. back in the same waiting room the two young men lingered until nearly eleven o'clock. more than two score of candidates had passed the medical examiners by this time, and some others had failed to pass. yet many of these successful candidates had yet to take their scholastic examinations over in academic hall, and so did not wait with dave and dan, who had now passed in everything. by eleven there were fully a dozen young men who, like dave and dan, were ready to be sworn in. these were now led to the commandant's office. here each signed a paper agreeing to serve in the united states navy for a term of eight years, unless sooner legally discharged. each also signed a statement to the effect that he took this step with the full permission of parents or guardian. then the commandant of cadets ordered them to form in a line facing his desk. a notary appeared, who administered to them the oath of loyalty and obedience. these young men were at last actual members of the brigade of midshipmen. commander jephson now delivered a short address to the lined-up dozen. he pointed out where the lines of their duty lay, and exhorted them to seek their duty and to perform it at all times. in closing the commandant put emphasis on these words: "one word more, young gentlemen. until this moment perhaps all of you have been wont to look upon yourself as boys. that time has passed. from the moment that you were sworn into the navy of the united state--remember--you became men. all of your superior officers will now look to you to realize most fully that you are men--men in word, deed, thought and judgment." now another midshipman, a cadet petty officer, appeared and conducted the new members of the brigade outside. "fall in by twos," he directed. "when i give the word, move forward as well as you can, in the idea of marching." it was, indeed, a busy hour that followed. the young men were led before the midshipmen's pay officer, with whom each deposited the sum of two hundred and sixty-four dollars and ninety-eight cents. this amount from each new midshipman is required by law. of this sum sixty dollars is applied to the purchase of books needed by the new midshipman. the balance of the sum goes to pay for uniforms, articles of equipment, etc. from this it would seem that an absolutely poor boy had no chance to enter the naval academy. it usually happens, however, that, when a very poor boy is appointed to the naval academy, his congressman, or some of his friends or fellow townsmen will loan him the money, returnable after he enters the service as an officer. in addition to the amount required by law to be deposited with the academy authorities each midshipman is ordered to turn over any other money that may be in his possession, this extra amount to be credited to him. a midshipman, on entering the service, receives a salary of six hundred dollars a year. nearly all of this, however, is required to pay his ordinary expenses. each midshipman is allowed a very small amount of spending money, with, however, a more liberal allowance when visiting ports during a cruise. it is forbidden for a midshipman to receive spending money from home or friends. midshipmen sometimes disobey this latter regulation, but, if detected, are liable to severe punishment. afterwards the new midshipmen were taken to the storekeeper's, where each was supplied with one of the uniform caps worn by midshipmen. thence the young men were marched back to bancroft hall and out onto the terrace over the mess hall. "halt! break ranks!" commanded their instructor, midshipman cranthorpe. "you will now pay close heed and endeavor to learn rapidly. mr. darrin, step over here." dave went forward, midshipman cranthorpe placing him. "the others will form in line of platoon front, using mr. darrin as their guide," directed the young instructor. then followed some rapid-fire drilling in dressing, facings, counting fours, marching and halting. the material in hand was excellent, or midshipman cranthorpe might have been in despair. presently their instructor gave the order to break ranks, showing the new men where to stand, up against the building, out of the way. almost immediately a bugler sounded a call. then the new men were treated to a sight that made their blood dance. out of bancroft hall hastily poured scores and scores of midshipmen, until nearly six hundred had assembled. these were the members of the three upper classes. the brigade of midshipmen is divided into two battalions, each of two divisions, six companies. the first and fourth companies formed on the right of the first battalion, the seventh and tenth companies on the right of the second battalion. the divisions formed with intervals of two paces between companies preparatory to muster. second call was sounded quickly on the bugle, immediately after which the first petty officer of each company began briskly to call the roll. each man answered just loudly enough to be heard. while roll-call was going on company commanders stepped briskly along inspecting their companies. as the muster of each company was completed the first petty officer commanded, "count off!" "one, two, three, four! one, two, three four!" went the count along each company line. then the first petty officer of each company wheeled about, saluted his company commander, and reported: "sir, all present or accounted for!" company commanders next corrected the alignment on the right center company of each line. battalion commanders, seeing the divisions of their respective battalions aligned, faced about, while the battalion adjutants took post to right and rear. the brigade adjutant then faced about, saluted the brigade commander, reporting: "sir, the brigade is formed." receiving the word from his superior, the brigade adjutant next read the orders, after which he was ordered to take his post. while this was going on midshipman cranthorpe had formed his awkward squad to the rear, behind the first battalion. now orders rang out crisply for battalion commanders to take charge. thereupon each battalion commander marched his command in column of squads into the mess hall; battalion commanders preceding their battalions, company commanders preceding their companies and the junior officers of each company following the company. last of all came midshipman cranthorpe's awkward squad. and very awkward, indeed, these young men felt. each had a burning conviction that he was being watched curiously by hundreds of pairs of eyes. the new men might as well have saved themselves their worry. barely an upper class man in the hall was paying any heed whatever to these self-conscious plebes. the meal, a mid-day dinner, was an excellent one. few of the new men, however, had any notion of what it consisted. mess hall was left with almost the same amount of formality. in the short recreation period that followed the new men, painfully conscious that their caps were the only part of the uniform they wore, were hurried away by midshipman cranthorpe. now they were quickly assigned to the rooms that they would occupy during their first year at the naval academy. the midshipmen are not roomed by classes. instead, each is assigned to a company, and there are three companies to a division. each division occupies a floor in bancroft hall. it is not called a "floor" but a "deck." dave and dan were assigned to the armory wing of the lowest deck, on what was virtually the basement floor of bancroft hall, or would have been, but for the mess hall underneath. as far as wood work went it was a handsome room. when it came to the matter of furniture it was plain enough. there was the main or study room. off at either side was an alcove bedroom. there was also a closet in which stood a shower bath. the one window of the room looked over across the academy grounds in the direction of academic hall. a cadet petty officer from the first class briefly, crisply instructed them concerning the care of their room, and their duties within its walls. what followed that afternoon put the heads of the new midshipmen in a whirl. afterwards they had a confused recollection of having been marched to the tailor at the storekeeper's, where they were measured for uniforms, all of which are made to order. they recalled receiving a thin, blue volume entitled "regulations of the u.s. naval academy," a book which they were advised by a first clansman instructor to "commit to memory." "in former days, in the old-time academy, there were something more than six hundred regulations," dryly remarked the cadet petty officer in charge of them. "in the new up-to-date naval academy there are now more than one thousand regulations. you are all expected to appreciate this merciful decrease in the number of things you are required to remember." there were also two periods of drill, that afternoon, and what-not more. supper came as a merciful release. when the meal was over, while many of the upper class men remained outside in the warm june air, the plebes were ordered to go to their rooms and start in making themselves familiar with the thousand-and-more regulations. "thank goodness they give us some time for light reading," muttered dan dalzell, as he stalked into his room, hung up his uniform cap and sank into a chair. "whew! what a day this has been!" "i've rather enjoyed it," murmured dave, as he sank into the chair on the opposite side of the study table. "huh! you have liberal ideas, then, about enjoyment. how many hundred rules are you going to commit to memory tonight? "i don't know," returned dave. "but i do know that my head is in a big whirl, and that i'm going to rest it for a few minutes. by the way, dan, there's one thing i hope you remember." "what is that?" demanded dalzell. "what did they tell us this lower deck was named?" "dunno," grunted dan. "but i have my own name for it. _i_ call it the pinochle deck." "i'm afraid that won't do to repeat," laughed dave. at that moment the handle of the door was turned. five upper class midshipmen entered, closing the door behind them. then they stood there, glaring at the two poor plebes in "cit." clothes. chapter iii a taste of hazing "good evening, gentlemen," nodded dave pleasantly, as he rose and stood by the study table, waiting to hear the pleasure of his visitors. dan dalzell favored his callers with a nod, but remained seated, both hands thrust deep in his pockets. "get up on your feet, mister!" ordered one of the midshipmen, so sternly that dan obeyed like a shot. "excuse me," he began hastily. "i didn't know you came here in an official capacity. i thought--" "silence, mister!" commanded another of the visitors. dan subsided. "what's your name, mister?" demanded the last speaker, as he favored dave with his next glance. "why, my name is dave darrin," replied that plebe pleasantly. "say 'sir,' mister, when you address an upper class man. when asked your name, reply, 'darrin, sir.'" "darrin, sir," replied dave promptly. "stand at attention, both of you!" commanded another visitor. both plebes obeyed. now still another caller wheeled upon dan. "what's your name, mister." "dan dalzell." "dalzell--sir!" thundered dan's questioner. "dalzell, sir," dan responded meekly enough. "it is plain enough that both of you plebes need a good deal of practice in the use of the word, sir. therefore, in your next answers, you will be careful to employ 'sir' after each word that you utter in your reply. mister," to dave, "what did you come to the naval academy for?" "to, sir, become, sir, a sir, naval, sir, officer. sir." "very good, mister. mister," to dalzell, "why did you come here?" "for sir, the same pur--" "sir, sir, sir, sir!" interrupted the quizzer. "now, try again, mister." "for, sir, the, sir, same, sir, purpose, sir." "now, mister," continued the quizzing visitor, transfixing dalzell with a look of tremendous sternness, "can you talk french?" dan's eyes twinkled briefly. "i don't know, sir. i never tried, sir," replied dalzell, in pretended embarrassment. for a moment it looked as though dan had turned the tables of mischief upon his tormentors. his reply was so absurd that all of the upper class men, for a moment, betrayed signs of twitching at the corners of their mouths. then all of them conquered the desire to laugh and returned to the inquest with added severity. the late questioner turned to one of his classmates, remarking scornfully: "_touge!_" "very touge, indeed" replied the one addressed. a "touge" plebe, in naval academy parlance, is one who is wholly "fresh." "mister," continued dan's quizzer, "we find you too full of levity for one who intends to embrace the profession of quarter-deck lounger. in our belief it will be necessary for you to let some new ideas soak into your head. mister, get your wash basin and fill it exactly half full of water. remember, mister--neither a drop nor less than exactly half full." dan's first impulse was to grin, his second to laugh. yet something in the tone and look of the last speaker made "touge" dalzell feel that the simplest way out of difficulty would be for him to obey as carefully and speedily as he could. so, with a hurried "very good, sir," dalzell turned in quest of his basin. he brought it, just about half full, for the inspection of his imperious visitor. "place it there on the floor, beside the wall," ordered the tormentor dan obeyed. "now, mister, stand on your head in that water!" dan flushed hotly, for an instant. he even clenched his fists. then, with a sudden rush of good sense to the head, he bent over to carry out the order that he had received. it was not as easy a feat as might be supposed, even for a rather well trained and hardened athlete like dan dalzell. he got his head into the bowl all right, and rested his hands on the floor on either side of the bowl. it was when he tried to throw his feet up against the wall that he came to grief. his feet slid along the wall and came down to the floor again. dan fell out of the bowl with a good deal of splash. "if, at first, you don't succeed, mister," began midshipman trotter, who had constituted himself chief of the tormentors, "try, try some more." "i'll make it, sir," responded dan cheerily, and his very manner, now, inclined his tormentors to go a little more lightly with him. at the third trial, with his eyes closed, just below the level of the water, dalzell succeeded in standing very solidly on his head. the upper class men, who were all third class men, or "youngsters" as they are unofficially termed, watched the performance with interest. "rather well done, for a beginner," commented midshipman trotter. "as you were, mister." dan, unfortunately, tried to be a bit "smart." he made a half somersault forward, trying to spring up on his feet. he fell back, however, and sat down squarely in what was left of the water. "never mind a little wet, mister," advised midshipman trotter, with a very serious face. "we always rate a man as highly awkward, however, if he breaks the washbowl." "which one of you is the better athlete?" suddenly asked midshipman harris. neither chum intended to be caught, by this crowd, as wanting in modesty. "he is, sir," replied dan, with great promptness, nodding toward darrin. "dalzell is, sir," contended dave. "in view of this conflicting testimony, we shall have to settle the question by actual test," replied mr. trotter. "mister," to dan, "bale out your boat." from the nod which accompanied this command dalzell understood that he was to empty the water from his wash basin so he promptly obeyed. "mister," to darrin, "launch your boat on this water here." plainly the "water" signified the floor. dave brought out his own wash basin with alacrity. under further orders the chums placed their bowls about four feet apart. "here," announced midshipman trotter, taking two toothpicks from a pocket, "are a pair of oars." dave darrin received the toothpicks with a grin. "and here are your oars, mister," supplemented mr. trotter, handing another pair of toothpicks to dan dalzell. at this instant a faint knock was heard at the door, which opened immediately after. "got a pair of beasts at work, fellows?" asked a voice. "here are some more young admirals who need a little help." four new midshipmen, in the custody of three youngsters, now stepped into the room and the door was closed. "bender's in charge of the floor tonight, you know," nodded one of the newly-arrived youngsters, "and bender's duty-crazy. besides, he belongs to the second class, and hardly admits that we're alive." on each floor a midshipman is detailed to be in charge through the evening. he is responsible for discipline on his floor, and must report all breaches of the rules. a midshipman who wishes to stand well with his comrades may, when in charge of the floor, conveniently fail to see a good many minor breaches of discipline. when the man in charge of the floor reports all breaches that come to his notice he is said to be duty-crazy. he is also charged with "trying to make his mark in grease." "grease" is high standing on the efficiency report. as a rule the man who stands well in "grease" stands somewhat lower in general popularity. midshipman bender, second class, was, at this time, regarded as one of the worst "greasers" of all. "what's on?" inquired midshipman hayes, one of the newcomers in the room. "tub race?" "no, sir; fast spurt in single-pair shells," replied midshipman trotter impressively. "whew! you've caught some real athletes, have you?" "that's what we want to find out," responded mr. trotter. "now, then, misters, we warn you against approaching this noble sport in any spirit of levity! you are not to think that this work is for your own amusement, or for anyone else's. you must try yourselves out fairly and squarely. our purpose is to find out which is the better oarsman, and also which rows with the more finish. take your seats in your craft." dave and dan seated themselves, with all possible gravity, in their respective wash basins. "up oars!" commanded mr. trotter. as neither plebe knew just what was meant by this command they had to be shown how to sit holding their "oars" straight up in the air. "let fall!" this time the two new men guessed fairly well. they went through the motions of allowing their toothpick oars to fall into row-locks. "now, at the outset, take your strokes from my count," directed mr. trotter. "one, two three, four, five, six, seven--" and so on. it was all ludicrously absurd, to see dave and dan bending to their tasks as seriously as though they were rowing real craft with actual oars. one of the visiting plebes was stupid enough to giggle. "go over and stand by the window in arrest, mister," ordered midshipman hayes. "you shall be tried later!" then the "boat race" continued. it soon proved to be more than absurd; it was decidedly fatiguing. both dave and dan found that their strained positions, and the motions required of them, made backs and shoulders ache. their legs, too, began to suffer from cramp. it was not until both showed signs of decided weariness that the race was brought to an end. then the cadet who had giggled was called forward, ordered to half fill one of the washbowls and to stand on his head in it. while this was going on there was not a smile from anyone. from the serious faces of all this might have been one of the most important bits of drill in the whole course at the academy. dave, however, made the best impression upon the youngsters. all the other new men came sooner or later, to the ordeal of standing on their heads in the wet bowl, but dave seemed destined to escape. the rowing was carried on until all of the youngsters had tired of this sport. "fall in, in platoon front," directed midshipman trotter. the six plebes, solemn as owls, stood up in line, "dressing" their line carefully. "now, attend me carefully," cautioned mr. trotter, sweeping a stern glance down the line of plebes. "i am about to tell you a bit of the day's news from over in sleepy hollow, which place is known to maryland geographers as the village of annapolis. you must attend me with extreme care, for, after i have narrated the news, i shall question you concerning it. do you follow me, misters?" "yes, sir," came in a chorus. "you need not answer quite as loudly," warned midshipman trotter, sending a backward look over his shoulder at the door. "now, then, the police over in sleepy hol--annapolis--today learned the details of a yellow tragedy. some weeks ago three chinamen came to town and opened a clean--i mean, a new--laundry. during the last week, however, the public noted that the door leading from the office to the rear room was always closed. you follow me?" "yes, sir," came in an almost whispered chorus. "finally," continued mr. trotter, "one customer, more curious than the others, reported his observations to the police. today the johnny tinplates made a raid on the place. a most curious state of affairs came to light. so--but is this tangled tale clear to you all as far as i have gone?" "yes, sir," came the whispered chorus. "what the police learned," went on mr. trotter, in a voice that now sounded slightly awestruck, "was this: a week ago the three chinese partners had a serious row. they quarreled, then fought. two of the yellow partners killed the third! and now, a serious problem confronted the two survivors of that misunderstanding. what was to be done with the remains of the unsuccessful disputant?" midshipman trotter looked at each of the wondering plebes in turn. it looked as though he were asking the question of them. "i don't know, sir," admitted dan dalzell, at the left of the line. "i don't know, sir," admitted the man next to dan. so it went down the line, until dave darrin, at the further end, had admitted himself to be as much in the dark as were the others. "then, listen," resumed mr. trotter impressively. "the chinese, being descended from a very ancient civilization, are not only very ingenious but also very thrifty. they were burdened with two hundred pounds of evidence on the premises. in their extremity the two survivors cut up their late partner, cooked him, and disposed of the flesh at meal times." from the gravity of the narrator's expression he appeared to be reciting a wholly true story. "now, then," rasped out midshipman trotter, "that being the state of affairs at the laundry--_what was the telephone number_?" trotter's gaze was fixed on dan dalzell's face almost accusingly. "how the--" began startled dan gruffly. then, instantly realizing that he was making a mistake, he broke in hastily: "beg your pardon, sir, but i don't understand how to get at the telephone number." "you try, mister," ordered midshipman trotter, turning to the plebe next to dalzell. "i can't solve the problem, sir." so it ran, straight down the line, each confessing his ignorance, until finally mr. trotter glared at dave darrin. "come, come, mister, from the very exact narrative that i have given, can't you deduce the telephone number of that laundry?" "yes, sir; i think so," answered darrin, with a slight smile. "ah! then there's a man in the squad who is more than a mere saphead. let us have the telephone number, mister! "two-ate-one-john," replied dave promptly. this was the correct answer. dave had heard that "gag" before. "mister," beamed mr. trotter, "i congratulate you. you are no mollycoddle. your head is not over-fat, but somewhat stocked with ideas. as soon as you have soaked in a few more ideas you will be fit to associate with the young gentlemen at this sailor-factory. you may, therefore, take the washbowl, fill it half full of ideas, and stand on your head in them until they have soaked well in!" poor dave, his face flushed crimson, could have dropped in his humiliation at having thus fallen into the trap. but he started manfully for the washbowl, which he half filled with water. meanwhile the other five plebes were choking. they could have screamed in their glee--had they dared! placing the bowl where ordered, dave bent down to his knees, immersing the top of his head in the water. with hands on opposite sides of the bowl he balanced his feet, preparatory to hoisting them into place against the wall. "up oars!" commanded mr. hayes dryly. from one of the visiting plebes came an incautious giggle. mr. hayes turned and marked his man with a significant stare that made the unfortunate giggler turn red and white in turn with alarm. at the order, "up oars," dave darrin sent his feet aloft. by rare good luck he succeeded the first time trying. there he remained, his head in the bowl of water, his feet resting against the wall. just at this moment, though, the sound of trouble was in the air, even if it reached interested ears but faintly. a step was heard in the corridor outside. there was a faint knock. the upper class midshipmen knew on the instant what the knock meant--and so indeed did dave darrin. chapter iv the "youngsters" who became "spoons on" it was a most critical moment in the life histories of several young men who had grown to consider themselves as future officers in the united states navy! such a man as midshipman bender was certain to report any form of hazing he detected. now, the usual punishment meted out to hazers at either annapolis or west point is dismissal from the service! true, this was not brutal hazing, but merely the light form of the sport known as "running" the new man. nevertheless, "all hazing looks alike" to the public, when posted by the newspapers, and the naval academy authorities deal severely with even "running." so, for all of the "youngsters," or third class men, who had been conducting the evening's festivities, all the elements of trouble, and perhaps of dismissal, were at hand. but dave darrin had been the first to hear the soft approach of footsteps, and somehow, he had guessed at the meaning of it all. just in the fraction of a second before the knock had sounded at the door dave had made a fine handspring that brought him from his topsy-turvy attitude to a position of standing on his feet. and, at the same time, he held the washbowl in his hand without having spilled a drop of the water. like a flash dave few across the room, depositing the bowl where it belonged. with a towel he wiped his hair, then swiftly mopped his face dry. hair brush and comb in hand, he turned, saving: "why, i suppose, gentlemen, dalzell and myself were very fair athletes in the high school sense of the word. but it's a long jump from that to aspiring to the navy football team. of course we'll turn out for practice, if you wish, but--" at this moment, lieutenant bender, the "duty-crazy" one, thrust the door open. here dave, on his way to the mirror, hairbrush and comb in hand, halted as though for the first time aware of the accusing presence of bender, midshipman in charge of the floor for the day. "uh-hum!" choked midshipman bender more confused, even, than he had expected the others to be. "looks like rather good material, doesn't he, bender?" inquired mr. trotter. "green, of course, and yet--" "i didn't come here to discuss navy athletics," replied midshipman bender. "oh, an official visit--is that it?" asked shipman hayes, favoring the official visitor with a baby-stare. "as it is past graduation, and there are no evening study hours, there is no regulation against visiting in the rooms of other members of the brigade." "no," snapped mr. bender, "there is not." saying this the midshipman in charge turned on his heel and left the room. an instant after the door had closed the lately scared youngsters expressed themselves by a broad grin, which deepened to a very decided chuckle as mr. bender's footsteps died away. "mister," cried midshipman trotter, favoring darrin with a glance of frank friendliness, "do you know that you saved us from frapping the pap hard?" "and that perhaps you've saved us from bilging?" added midshipman hayes. "i'm such a greenhorn about the navy, sir, that i am afraid i don't follow you in the least, sir," darrin replied quietly. then they explained to him that the "pap" is the conduct report, and that "to frap" is to hit. to "frap the pap" means to "get stuck on" the conduct report for a breach of discipline. a "bilger" is one who is dropped from the service, or who is turned back to the class below. "i judged that there was some trouble coming sir," dave confessed, "and i did the best that i could. it was good luck on my part that i was able to be of service to you." "good luck, eh?" retorted midshipman trotter. "third class men, fall in!" as the "youngsters" lined up mr. trotter, standing at the right of the line, asked coaxingly: "mister, will you be condescending enough to pass down the line and shake hands with each of us?" flushing modestly, but grinning, dave did as asked--or directed. "mister," continued midshipman trotter impressively, "we find ourselves very close to being 'spoons on' you." for a youngster to be "spoons on" a new fourth classman means for the former to treat the latter very nearly as though he were a human being. "now, you green dandelions may go," suggested mr. trotter, turning to the four "visiting" plebes. as soon as this had come about trotter turned to dave darrin. "mister, we humble representatives of the third class are going to show you the only sign of appreciation within our power. we are going to invite you to stroll down the deck and visit us in our steerage. your roommate is invited to join us." dave and dan promptly accepted, with becoming appreciation. all of the youngsters escorted dave and dan down the corridor to midshipman trotter's room. in the course of the next hour the youngsters told these new midshipmen much about the life at the naval academy that it would otherwise have taken the two plebes long to have found out for themselves. they were initiated into much of the slang language that the older midshipmen use when conversing together. many somewhat obscure points in the regulations were made clear to them. lest the reader may wonder why new fourth class men should tamely submit to hazing or "running," when the regulations of the naval academy expressly prohibit these upper class sports, it may be explained that the midshipmen of the brigade have their own internal discipline. a new man may very easily evade being hazed, if he insists upon it. his first refusals will be met with challenges to fight. if he continues to refuse to be "hazed" or "run," he will soon find himself ostracized by all of the upper class men. then his own classmates will have to "cut" him, or they, too, will be "cut." the man who is "cut" may usually as well resign from the naval academy at once. his continued stay there will become impossible when no other midshipman will recognize him except in discharge of official duties. the new man at annapolis, if he has any sense at all, will quietly and cheerfully submit to being "run." this fate falls upon every new fourth class man, or nearly so. the only fourth class man who escapes bring "run" is the one who is considered as being beneath notice. unhappy, indeed, is the plebe whom none of the youngsters above him will consent to haze. and frequent it happens that the most popular man in an upper class is one who, while in the fourth class, was the most unmercifully hazed. often a new man at the naval academy arrives with a firm resolution to resist all attempts at running or hazing. he considers himself as good as any of the upper class men, and is going to insist on uniformly good treatment from the upper class men. if this be the new man's frame of mind he is set down as being "ratey." but often the new man arrives with a conviction that he will have to submit to a certain amount of good-natured hazing by his class elders. yet this man, from having been spoiled more or less at home, is "fresh." in this case he is called only "touge." hence it is a far more hopeful sign to be "touge" than to be "ratey." the new man who honestly tries to be neither "touge" nor "ratey," and who has a sensible resolve to submit to tradition, is sometimes termed "almost sea-going." dave darrin was promptly recognized as being "almost sea-going." he would need but little running. dan dalzell, on the other hand, was soon listed as being "touge," though not "ratey." chapter v invited to join the "frenchers" within the nest few days several things happened that were of importance to the new fourth class men. other candidates arrived, passed the surgeons, and were sworn into naval service. many of the young men who had passed the surgeons, and who had gone through the dreary, searching ordeals over in grim old academic hall, had now become members of the new fourth class. as organized, the new fourth class started off with two hundred and twenty-four members--numerically a very respectable battalion. at the outset, while supplied only with midshipmen's caps, and while awaiting the "building" of their uniforms, these new midshipmen were drilled by some of the members of the upper classes. this state of affairs, however, lasted but very briefly. graduation being past, the members of the three upper classes were rather promptly embarked on three of the most modern battleships of the navy and sent to sea for the summer practice cruise. the night before embarkation midshipman trotter looked in briefly upon dave darrin and his roommate. "well, mister," announced the youngster, with a paternal smile, "somehow you'll have to get on through the rest of the summer without us." "it will be a time of slow learning for us, sir," responded darrin, rising. "your summer will henceforth be restful, if not exactly instructive," smiled trotter. "in the absence of personal guidance, mister, strive as far as you can to reach the goal of being sea going." "i'll try, sir." "you won't have such hard work as your roommate," went on trotter, favoring dalzell with a sidelong look. "and, now, one parting bit of advice, mister. keep it at all times in mind that you must keep away from demoralizing association with the forty per cent." statistics show that about forty per cent of the men who enter the u.s. naval academy fail to get through, and are sent back into civil life. hence the joy of keeping with the winning "sixty." the next morning the members of the three upper classes had embarked aboard the three big battleships that lay at anchor in the severn. it was not until two days afterwards that the battleships sailed, but the upper class men did not come ashore in the interval. soon after the delivery of uniforms to the new fourth class men began and continued rapidly. dave and dan, having been among the first to have their measure taken, were among the earliest to receive their new naval clothing. a tremendously proud day it was for each new midshipman when he first surveyed himself, in uniform, in the mirror! the regular summer course was now on in earnest for the new men. on mondays those belonging to the first and second divisions marched down to the seamanship building, there to get their first lessons in seamanship. this began at eight o'clock, lasting until 9.30. during the same period the men who belonged to the third and fourth divisions received instruction in discipline and ordnance. in the second period, from 10 to 11.30 the members of the first and second division attended instruction in discipline and ordnance while the members of the third and fourth divisions attended seamanship. in the afternoon, from 3 to 4.45, the halves of the class alternated between seamanship and marine engineering. all instruction proceeded with a rapidity that made the heads of most of these new midshipmen whirl! from 5 to 6 on the same afternoon the entire fourth class attended instruction in the art of swimming--and no midshipman hope to graduate unless he is a fairly expert swimmer! wednesday and saturday afternoons were devoted to athletics and recreation. a midshipman does not have his evenings for leisure. on the first five evenings of each week, while one half of the class went to the gymnasium, the other half indulged in singing drill in recreation hall. "what's the idea of making operatic stars out of us?" grumbled dan to his roommate on day. "you always seem to get the wrong impression about everything, danny boy," retorted darrin, turning to his roommate with a quizzical smile. "the singing drill isn't given with a view to fitting you to sing in opera." "what, then?" insisted dan. "you are learning to sing, my dear boy, so that, later on, you will be able to deliver your orders from a battleship's bridge in an agreeable voice." "if my voice on the bridge is anything like the voice i develop in recreation hall," grimaced dalzell, "it'll start a mutiny right then and there." "then you don't expect sailors of the navy to stand for the kind of voice that is being developed in you in recreation hall?" laughed darrin. "sailors are only human," grumbled dalzell. the rowing work, in the big ten-oared cutters proved one of the most interesting features of the busy summer life of the new men. more than half of these fourth class midshipmen had been accustomed to rowing boats at home. the work at annapolis, however, they found to be vastly different. the cutter is a fearfully heavy boat. the long naval oar is surprisingly full of avoirdupois weight. true, a midshipman has to handle but one oar, but it takes him many, many days to learn how to do that properly. yet, as august came and wore along, the midshipmen found themselves becoming decidedly skilful in the work of handling the heavy cutters, and in handling boats under sail. competitive work and racing were encouraged by the navy officers who had charge of this instruction. each boat was under the direct command of a midshipman who served as crew captain, with thirteen other midshipmen under him as crew. when the post of crew captain fell to dan dalzell he embarked his crew, gave the order to shove off and let fall oars, and got away in good style. then, leaning indolently back dan grinned luxuriously. "this is the post i'm cut out for," he murmured, so that stroke-oar heard him and grinned. yet, as "evil communications corrupt good manners," dan's attitude was reflected in his crew of classmates. the cutter was manned badly at that moment. "mr. dalzell!" rasped out the voice of lieutenant fenton, the instructor, from a near-by boat. dan straightened up as though shot. but the navy officer's voice continued sternly: "sit up in a more seamanlike manner. pay close attention to the work of your boat crew. be alert for the best performance of duty in the boat that you command. for your inattention, and worse, of a moment ago, mr. dalzell, you will put yourself on the conduct report." the next morning, at breakfast formation, dan's name was read from the "pap." he had been given five demerits. this was below the gravity of his offense, but he had been let off lightly the first time. "you've got to stick to duty, and keep it always in mind," darrin admonished his chum. "i don't intend to turn preachy, dan; but you'll surely discover that the man who lets his indolence or sense of fun get away with him is much better off out of the naval academy." "pooh! a lot of the fellows have frapped the pap," retorted dalzell. "demerits don't do any harm, unless you get enough of 'em to cause you to be dropped." "well, if there is no higher consideration," argued dave, "at least you must remember that the number of demerits fixes your conduct grade. if you want such liberties and privileges as are allowed to new midshipmen, you'll have to keep your name away from the pap." "humph! setting your course toward the grease mark are you?" jeered dan. "think it over!" urged dave darrin patiently. before august was over the new fourth class men marched "like veterans." they had mastered all the work of drill, marching and parade, and felt that they could hold their own in the brigade when the upper class men returned. on the 28th of august the three big battleships were sighted coming up the bay in squadron formation. a little more than an hour later they rode at anchor. it was not, however, until the 30th of august that the upper classmen were disembarked. august 31 was devoted to manifold duties, including the hurried packing of light baggage, for now the members of the three upper classes were to enjoy a month's leave of absence before the beginning of the academic year on october 1. then, like a whirlwind mob, and clad in their "cit." clothes, the upper class men got away on that hurried, frenzied leave. there was no leave, however, for the new midshipmen. in lieu of leave, through the month of september, the new fourth class men spent the time, each week-day, from ten o'clock until noon, at the "dago department," as the department of modern languages is termed. here they made their start in french. "when trotter comes back," muttered dan, "if he asks me whether i can talk french, i'll tell him that i've tried, and now i know i can't." it was the last night before the upper classmen were due back from their leave. dave and dan were in their room, poring hard over french, when a light tap sounded on the door. right on top of the tap midshipman farley, fourth class, entered on tiptoe, closing the door behind him. this accomplished, farley dropped his air of stealth, strolling over to the study desk. "there's a nice little place in town--you know, purdy's," began farley significantly. "i've heard of it as an eating place," responded darrin. "it's more than that," returned farley, smacking his lips. "it's an ideal place for a banquet." "i accept your word for it," smiled dave. "i don't ask you to, darrin," grinned farley. "like any honest man i'm prepared to prove all i say. purdy has received--by underground telegraph--orders to prepare a swell feast for eight. it's to be ready at eleven tonight. we had the eight all made up, but two fellows have flunked cold. we're to french it over the wall tonight, leaving here a few minutes after taps. are you on?" farley's enthusiastic look fell upon the face of dalzell. "i'm on!" nodded dan "no; you're not" broke in dave quietly. "i'm afraid i must disagree with you, little david," murmured dan. "oysters, clams, fish--watermelon!" tempted midshipman farley. "um-yum!" grunted dan, his eyes rolling. "then you're with us, dalzell?" insisted farley. "well, rather--" "--not!" interjected dave darrin with emphasis. "now, what are you butting in for, you greasy greaser?" demanded farley, giving dave a contemptuous glance. "maybe you won't join us, and maybe we'd just as soon not have as greasy a midshipman as you at the festive board, but dalzell isn't tied to your apron strings, are you, dalzell?" "no; he's not," replied darrin, speaking for his chum. "dalzell will speak for himself, if he insists. but he and i have been chums these many years, and we've often given each other good advice in trying or tempting times. dalzell will go with you, if he cares to, for he already knows all that i have to say on the subject." "you've had your nose stuck down deep in the grease-pot ever since you struck annapolis!" cried farley angrily. "i hope you bilge, darrin; with all my heart i hope you bilge soon. we don't need a mollycoddle like you here in the naval academy!" "isn't that about all you want to say?" demanded dave, looking up with a frown. "no; it's not half what i have to say," cried farley hotly. "darrin, your kind of fellow is a disgrace to the naval service! you're a sneak--that's what--" "you may stop, right there!" frowned darrin, rising from his chair. "i'll stop when i'm proper ready!" retorted farley hotly. "if you don't stop right now, you'll finish while engaged in landing on your ear in the hall outside!" warned dave, stepping forward. there was a new look in darrin's usually patient eyes. it was a look farley hadn't seen there before, and it warned the hot-headed midshipman that he was in danger of going too far. "oh, fudge on you, darrin!" jeered farley, turning on his heel. "going to be with us, dalzell? "no," replied dan promptly. "i never travel with the enemies of my friends." "greasers, both of you!" flung back the caller, and left them. "if that fellow had talked an hour longer i believe i might have lost my patience," smiled darrin, as he turned back to his desk. "but i'm glad you're not with that outfit tonight danny boy. it may turn out a big scrape." "why should it turn out a big scrape." demanded dan. "oh, you never can tell," replied darrin, as he picked up his book. farley did not succeed in getting two more midshipmen to join in the frenching. twenty minutes after taps, however, the original six of the fourth class slipped out of bancroft hall. slyly they made their way to where they had a board hidden near the wall of the academy grounds. one at a time, and swiftly, they went up this board, and over the wall. at purdy's they found a meal to tempt the most whimsical appetite. the meal over they spent much time in singing and story-telling. it was nearly two in the morning when farley and his fellow feasters tried to get back into the grounds, over the wall. they got over the wall, all right, but only to fall into the hands of one of the watchmen, who seemed to have known exactly where to expect their return. all six were reported to the officer in charge. at breakfast formation midshipmen farley, oates, scully, brimmer, henkel and page were assigned fifty demerits each for unauthorized absence during the night. farley and his friends were furious. more, they were talkative. had dave darrin been less occupied that day he would have noted that many of his classmates avoided him. dan did notice, and wondered, without speaking of the matter. that day all the upper class men returned, and bancroft hall hummed for a while with the bustle of the returning hundreds. just before the dinner formation youngster trotter encountered dave in the corridor. "hullo, mister!" was trotter's greeting, and the youngster actually held out his hand. "i hope you had a mighty pleasant leave, sir," replied dave, returning the handclasp. "passably pleasant, passably, mister," returned midshipman trotter. "but see here, mister, what's this about you and your class that i've heard? "nothing, so far as i know, sir," replied dave, scanning the youngster's face closely. "it must be more than nothing," returned trotter. "i understand that more than half of your class are furious with you over something that happened last night. i've heard you called a sneak, mister, though i don't believe that for a single minute. but i've heard mutterings to the effect that your class will send you to coventry for excessive zeal in greasing, to the detriment of your classmates. what about it all, mister?" dave darrin gazed at the youngster with eyes full of wonder. "what about it?" repeated dave. "that's the very thing i'd like to know, sir, for this is the very first word i've heard of it." nor could midshipman trotter doubt that dave darrin had answered in all sincerity. "well, you certainly must be innocent, mister, if you're as puzzled as all this," replied the youngster. "then it must be that malicious mischief is brewing against you in some quarter. take my advice, mister, and find out what it all means." "thank you. i most certainly will, sir," replied dave, his eyes flashing. chapter vi dave passes the lie dalzell looked up wonderingly as darrin marched swiftly into their room. "danny boy, have you heard any talk against me today?" demanded dave. "do i look as though i had been fighting?" queried dan promptly. "i've just heard, from trotter, that a good many of the fellows in our class are scorching me, and talking of sending me to coventry. will you--" "i sure will," broke in dan, dropping his book, rising and snatching at his cap. "i'll be back as soon as i've heard something, or have settled with the fellow who says it." dan was out of the room like a flash. dave sat down heavily in his chair, his brow wrinkling as he tried to imagine what it all meant. "it must all be a mistake that trotter has made," argued dave with himself. "of course, trotter might be stringing me, but i don't believe he would do that. now, to be sure, i came near to having words with farley last night, but that wouldn't be the basis for any action by the fourth class. that, if anything, would be wholly a personal matter. then what am i accused of doing? it must be some fierce sort of lie when the fellows talk of taking it up as a class matter." for ten minutes more dave puzzled and pondered over the problem. then the door flew open and dan bolted hastily in. "you haven't been hitting anyone have you? asked dave, noticing the flushed, angry face of his chum. "no! but one of us will have to do some hitting soon," burst hotly from dalzell. "it'll be my hit, then, i guess," smiled dave wearily. "have you found out--" "dave it's the most absurd sort of lie! you know that farley and his little crowd got caught last night, when they returned from their frenching party over the wall?" "frenching" is taking unauthorized leave from the academic limits by going over the wall, instead of through the gate. "yes; i know farley and his friends got caught," rejoined darrin. "but what has that to do with me? "farley and his friends are sore--" "they ought not to be," said darrin quietly. "they took the chance, and now they ought to be ready to pay up like good sportsmen." "dave, _they say you informed on them, and got them caught!_" "what?" shouted darrin, leaping to his feet. his face was deathly white and the corners of his mouth twitched. he took two bounding steps toward the door, but dalzell threw himself in his chum's way. "not just this minute, dave!" ordered dan firmly. "we don't want any manslaughter here--not even of the 'justifiable' kind! sit and wait until you've cooled off--some. when you go out i'm going with you--whether it's out into the corridor, or out of the naval academy for good. sit down, now! try to talk it over coolly, and get yourself into a frame of mind where you can talk with others without prejudicing your case." "my case?" repeated dave bitterly, as he allowed dan to force him back into his chair. "i haven't any case. i haven't done anything." "i know that, but you've got to get cool, and stay so, if you want to make sure that others have a chance to know it," warned dan. "does farley say that i sneaked in information against him?" "farley and the others are so sore over their demerits that they believe almost anything, now, and they say almost anything. of course, farley remembers the row he had with you last night. in a fool way he puts two and two together, an decides that you helped set the trap for them." "if i had done a dirty thing like that, then i'd deserve to be cut by the whole brigade," retorted dave, his face flushing. "but i want to tell you, right now, dave, that some of the fellows of our class know you too well to believe any such thing against you." "i'm properly grateful to the few, then," retorted darrin, his eyes softening a trifle. "but come along, dan, if you will. i mean to start in at once to sift this thing down." "let me look at you," ordered dalzell, grappling with his chum, and looking him over. then, a moment later, dan added: "yes; you're cool enough, i think. i'll go with you. but remember that the easiest way to destroy yourself is to let your temper get on top. if anybody is to get mad before the crowd, let me do it. then you can restrain me if i get too violent." dave darrin took his uniform cap down from the nail and put it on with great deliberation. next, he picked up his whisk broom, flecking off two or three imaginary specks of dust. "now, i guess we can go along, danny boy," he remarked, in a tone of ominous quietness. "where are you headed?" murmured dalzell, as they reached the room door. "to farley's room," answered dave darrin coolly. "do you suppose he's there?" "he was, a few moments ago" dan answered. "then let us hope he is now." carrying himself with his most erect and military air, darrin stepped down the corridor, dalzell keeping exactly at his side. the chums arrived before the door of the room in which farley was lodged. dave raised his hand, sounding a light knock on the door, which he next pushed open. farley and a dozen other members of the fourth class were in the room. moreover, it was evident instantly that some of those present were discussing the burning class issue. "but are you sure he did it? farley?" one midshipman inquired, as the chums entered. "sure?" repeated farley. "of course i am! didn't i tell you what a hot row we had. darrin--" "i'm here to speak for myself, farley," boomed in the quiet, steady voice of dave darrin. "but i'll hear you first, if you wish." "oh, you're here, are you?" cried farley hotly, wheeling about on the visitors. some of the other fourth class men present turned and glanced coldly at the two last-comers. others looked on with eager curiosity. "i've heard," announced darrin, "that you are saying some things about me that don't sound well. so i've come to ask you what you are saying." "i won't keep you waiting," jeered farley. "you know, from hearing morning orders, that six of us were given fifty demerits apiece." "for going over the wall to a late supper in town," nodded dave. "you wouldn't go with us," continued farley angrily, "and gave us a greaser's talk-fest instead." "i didn't advise you against going," responded dave, standing with his arms folded, utterly cool as he eyed his accuser. "then, after we went, some one went and wised the powers," charged farley. "now, no one but a most abandoned greaser would do that." to "wise the powers" is to give information to the naval officers. "the fellow who would wilfully tell on you would be worse than what you term a greaser," agreed dave. "careful," warned farley ironically. "you know who told, or who caused the wise word to leak to the powers." "i don't," dave denied bluntly. "you're the sneak, yourself!" cried farley angrily. "i am not," spoke dave, with clear denial. "do you mean to say i lie?" demanded midshipman farley threateningly, as he took a step forward. "do you deliberately state that i informed upon you, or caused you to be informed upon?" demanded dave darrin. "yes, i do! "then you lie!" returned darrin promptly. with a suppressed yell farley sprang at darrin, and the latter struck out quickly. chapter vii on the field of the code midshipman farley had the bad judgment to stop that blow with the side of his neck. across the room he spun, going down in a heap, his head under the study table. dave darrin looked on with a cool smile, while farley lay there for an instant, then scrambled out and up onto his feet. but two or three other new midshipmen sprang in between dave and his accuser. "we can't have a fight here, farley," urged two or three in the same breath. "let me at the sneak!" sputtered farley who was boiling over with rage. "yes; let him at me," voiced dave coolly, "and i'll send him into the middle of next term!" but three of the midshipmen clung to farley, who furiously strove to fling them off. "let me at him!" insisted the accuser. "he struck me." "you struck at him first, and didn't land," replied one of the peacemakers. "you go on with a fight here, and you'll bring the officer in charge down on us all. farley, if you feel you've a grievance you are privileged to take recourse to the regular code in such matters." "the fellow has lied about me, and i'm ready to settle it with him now, or outside by appointment," broke in dave, speaking as coolly as before. "he calls me 'fellow' and 'liar,'" panted farley, turning white. "do you think i can stand that? "you don't have to," replied one of those who held farley back. "send darrin a challenge, in the regular way." "i will!" panted midshipman farley. "and i'll hammer him all over and out of the meeting-place!" "then it's settled for a challenge," interposed dan dalzell. "that will suit us all right. we'll be ready whenever the challenge comes. and now, to prevent getting a lot of decent fellows into a needless scrape, darrin and i will withdraw." dan took dave by the arm, and both turned to leave the room. "you--" began farley hoarsely, when another midshipman clapped a hand over his mouth. "shut up farley! save all of your undoubted grit for the field, when you two meet." the door closed softly behind darrin and dalzell. "why didn't you let me at the sneak?" bellowed farley, released, now, from interfering hands. "see here, farley," advised one of his friends, "cool down and keep your face in a restful attitude. darrin behaved twice as well as you did. if you don't look out you'll lose the sympathy of the class. just keep cool, and restrain your tongue from wagging until you've met darrin. don't try to start the row again, this side of the field where you meet. if you do, you'll get many a cold shoulder." other midshipmen present spoke in the same vein. farley, who wanted to be popular at all times, presently allowed himself to be advised. of course the news of the meeting, and of the more emphatic one to come spread fast through bancroft hall. there is an unknown wireless that carries all such news on wings through the brigade of midshipmen. within half an hour henkel and page brought the challenge to dave darrin. dan, in the meantime, had been busy, and had induced midshipman rollins, of the fourth class, to act with him as second. rollins, indeed, needed little urging. he was eager to see the fight. tyson, of the second class, was secured as referee, while trotter, of the third class, gladly agreed to act as time-keeper. the time was set for an hour before taps, as, on this evening, it would be easy for all the young men involved to slip away and be back in time for taps. "i won't let the thing run over two rounds," promised farley, who had an excellent idea of himself as a fighter. that afternoon dave and farley were obliged to pass each other. dave did not even seem to know that his enemy was around. farley, on the other hand, glared ferociously at darrin as he passed. midshipman trotter certainly would have come around to offer dave friendly counsel, had not his position as one of the officials of the fight restrained him. dave, by his prompt action, had veered many of his classmates around to his side. the bulk of opinion in the class, however, was that farley would make good in his boasts of victory. he was a heavily-built yet very active young man, who had shown great promise in boxing bouts in the gymnasium. at half-past eight that evening, while scores of cadets strolled through the grounds, thinking of the academic term to begin on the morrow, some little groups made their way more directly across the grounds. many interested glances followed them. over in the direction of the old government hospital stepped dave, accompanied by dan and rollins. they were the first to arrive, though a few minutes later midshipmen tyson and trotter appeared. "farley doesn't seem in as a big hurry as he was," remarked dan dalzell laughingly. it was not, in fact, until close to the time that farley, henkel and page came on the scene. "we want to put this mill through briskly, gentlemen," announced midshipman tyson, in a low tone. "both principals will be good enough to get ready as rapidly as possible." dave darrin had been only awaiting the order. now he took off his cap and uniform blouse, handing them to dan, who folded the coat and laid it on the ground, placing the cap on top of it. by this time darrin had pulled his shirt over his head. dan took that also, while rollins produced a belt which dave strapped about his waist with care. then he stepped forward, like a young war horse, sniffing the battle. farley was more leisurely in his preparations, though he did not appear nervous. in fact, farley wasn't a bit nervous. but he meant "wind up" the fight in such short order that there would be an abundance of time to spare. "there's no use in giving you any advice, old fellow," murmured dan. "you've been in too many fights, back in the good old high school days of dick & co." "i can handle myself," nodded dave, "unless farley proves to be a veritable wonder." "he certainly thinks he is," warned rollins. "and a good many of the fellows believe farley to be the best man of the class in this line of work." "they won't think so much longer," returned dan, as simply as though merely stating a proved fact. "you see, rollins, you never had the great good luck to get your kid training with dick & co. our old crowd always went in to win just because we were blind to the idea that there was any possible chance of losing." "did you always make good?" asked rollins curiously. "just about always, i reckon," nodded dan confidently. "you must have been a wonder-bunch then," smiled rollins. farley was ready, now, and coming forward with a second on either side of him. "step in dave old fellow." directed dan. dave came forward to where midshipman tyson awaited them. "gentlemen," announced the referee, "this is to be a fight to the finish, bare hands. as time is short you are urged to mix it up briskly to a conclusion. the usual ring rules will guide the officials of this meeting. hand-shaking will dispensed with. are you ready?" "ready!" hissed farley venomously. "ready," nodded dave coolly. "time!" with a yell farley leaped in. he didn't want it to last more than one round, if it could be helped. the fury of his assault drove the lighter darrin back. farley followed up with more sledge-hammers. he was certainly a dangerous man, with a hurricane style. he was fast and heavy, calculated to bear down a lighter opponent. before that assortment of blows dave darrin was forced to resort to footwork. "stand up and fight!" jeered farley harshly as he wheeled and wheeled, still throwing out his hammer blows. "don't play sneak on the field!" dave didn't even flush. trained with dick prescott at gridley high school, darrin was too old a hand to be taunted into indiscretion. in spite of his footwork, however, farley succeeded in landing upon him twice, though neither blow did much damage. then a third blow landed, against the side of darrin's head, that jarred him. it was all he could do to stand off farley until he recovered his wits enough to dodge once more. yet, all the while, darrin was watching his chance. chapter viii the man who won "this isn't a sprint!" yelled farley, in high disgust. "come back here!" dave did come back. wheeling suddenly, he struck his right arm up under farley's now loose guard. in the same fraction of a second dave let fly with his left. smack! it wasn't such a very hard blow--but it landed on the tip of farley's nose. with a yell of rage farley made a dive at his lighter opponent. "_time!_" in his rage farley tried to strike after that call, but dave bounded to one side. then, turning his back, darrin walked away to where dan and midshipman rollins awaited him. "be careful, mister farley," warned second class man tyson, striding over to him. "you struck out after the call of time. had the blow landed i would have been compelled under the rules to award darrin the fight on a foul." "first blood for our side!" cheered dan, as he sprang at dave with a towel. in a few moments the young man had been well rubbed down, and now dan and rollins, on opposite sides, were kneading his muscles. from over in farley's corner came a growl: "i came here to fight, not to go in for track work. that fellow can't fight." "queer!" remarked dan cheerfully. "we hold all the honors so far." quickly enough the call of time came. farley, the flow of blood from his nose stanched, came back as full of steam as before. dave's footwork was as nimble as ever. speed and skill in dodging were features of darrin's fighting style. yet farley caught him, with a blow on the chest that sent him to his knees. like a flash, however, darrin was upon his feet, and farley lunged at him swiftly and heavily. in the very act of reaching his feet, however, dave darrin leaped lightly to the left. with an exclamation of disgust farley turned and swung again. but dave dropped down, then shot up under his opponent's guard once more. _biff!_ this time an exclamation of real pain came from farley, for the blow had landed solidly on his left eye, just about closing it. a second time darrin might have landed, but he was taking no chances under a steam-roller like farley. as dave danced away, however, followed up by his opponent, bellowing from the sudden jolt his eye had received, he saw that farley was fighting almost blindly. dan dalzell now jumped in as close as he had any right to be. he wanted to see what would happen next. nor was he kept long guessing, for dave had slipped around on the blind side of his opponent. "confound you! can't you stand up and fight square?" demanded farley harshly. dave flushed, this time. dodging two of farley's blows he next moved as though about to retreat. instead, however, darrin leaped up and forward. pound! dave's hard left fist landed crushingly near the point of farley's jaw. down went the larger man, while his seconds rushed to him. midshipman trotter, watch in hand, began calling off the seconds. steadily he counted them, until he came to "--eight, nine, _ten_!" still farley lay on the ground, his good eye, as well as his damaged one, closed. if he was breathing it was so slightly that his seconds, not permitted under the rules to go close, could not detect the movements of respiration. "he loses the count," announced second class man tyson, in businesslike tones. "i award the fight to mister darrin." always the ceremonious "mister" with which upper class men refer to new fourth class men. it is not until the plebe becomes a "youngster" that the "mister" is dropped for the more friendly social address. farley's seconds were kneeling at his side now. "can you bring him out easily?" asked midshipman tyson, going over to the defeated man's seconds. "he's pretty soundly asleep, just now," put in midshipman trotter. "my, but that was a fearful crack you gave your man, mister!" "i'm sorry if i have had to hurt him much," replied dave coolly. "i am not keen for fighting." dan and rollins offered their services in helping to bring farley to, only to met by a curt refusal from midshipman henkel. so dave and his seconds stood mutely by, at a distance, while the two officials in the late fight added their efforts to those of the seconds of the knocked-out man. at last they brought a sigh from farley's lips. soon after the defeated midshipman opened his eyes. "is--darrin--dead?" he asked slowly, with a bewildered look. midshipman trotter chuckled. "not so you could notice it, mister. but you surely had a close call. do you want to try to sit up?" this farley soon concluded to do. then his seconds dressed him. "now, see if you can stand on your feet," urged midshipman tyson. by this time farley's wits had returned sufficiently for him to have a very fair idea of what had passed. aided by henkel and page midshipman farley got to his feet. there he stood, dizzily, until his late seconds gave him stronger support. "you can't go back to bancroft while you are in this condition, mister," hinted tyson decidedly. "you'll have to pass in review before one of our medical gentlemen, and do whatever he deems best." "dan," murmured dave, "go over and ask farley whether he cares to shake hands." dan crossed in quest of the information. "never!" growled farley, with a hissing intake of breath. "it's a shame to have bad blood after the fight is over," muttered tyson rebukingly. "i don't want anything to do with that fellow until we meet again," growled farley. "great scott, mister! you don't think of calling mister darrin out again, do you?" demanded tyson, with a gasp. "yes; if he can be made to fight fair!" snarled farley. "he fought fairly this time, mister," replied second class man tyson, almost with heat. "you're a fast, heavy and hard scrapper for your age, mister, but the other man simply out-pointed you all through the game. if you call him out again, and he meets you, he can kill you if he sees fit." "misters," directed midshipman trotter, addressing henkel and page, "you'd better hurry to get your man over to a surgeon if you want to be in your rooms at lights-out time." as page and henkel started away with their unfortunate comrade, dave approached tyson. "sir, do you believe that i fought with entire fairness?" asked darrin of the referee. "fair? of course you did, mister," replied tyson. "come along, trotter." dave, who had dressed some time before, now turned with dan and rollins and started back. they took pains not to be seen close to the upper class men. "who won?" demanded a fourth class man, curiously, as they neared bancroft hall. "farley will tell you tomorrow if he's able," grinned dan. when taps sounded on the bugle, that evening, all of the midshipmen, save farley, were in their rooms. promptly as the last note of taps broke on the air the last of the midshipmen was in bed, and the electric light was turned off from a master switch. the inspection of rooms was on. chapter ix dan just can't help being "touge" fourth class man farley did not put in an appearance at breakfast formation in the morning. as this was the opening day of the first term of the academic year it was a bad time to be "docked for repairs" at the hospital. merely reading over the list of the fourth class studies did not convey to the new men much idea of how hard they were to find their work. in the department of marine engineering and naval construction there were lessons in mechanical drawing. no excuse is made for a midshipman's natural lack of ability in drawing. he must draw satisfactorily if he is to hope to pass. in mathematics the new man had to recite in algebra, logarithms and geometry. in addition to the foregoing, during the first term, the new midshipman had courses in english and in french. as at west point, the mathematics is the stumbling block of the new man at annapolis. in the first term algebra, logarithms and geometry had to be finished, for in the second term trigonometry was the subject in mathematics. shortly before eight in the morning the bugle call sounded for the first period of recitation. the midshipmen fell in by classes in front of bancroft hall. after muster the classes marched away by sections. each section contained an average of ten men, under command of one of their number, who was known as the section leader. it was the section leader's duty to march his section to the proper recitation room in academic hall, to preserve discipline while marching, and to report his section to the instructor. at the beginning of the academic year the fourth class men were divided into sections in alphabetical order. afterwards the sections would be reorganized according to order of merit. so, at the outset, darrin and dalzell were in the same section, and dave, as it happened, had been appointed section leader. when the command rang out dave marched away with his section, feeling somewhat proud that he had attained even to so small a degree of command. it was an interesting sight to see hundreds of midshipmen, split up into so many sections, marching across the grounds in so many different directions, for not all the sections were headed for academic hall. dave knew the number of the room to which his section was bound, and knew also the location of the room. sections march, in step, at a brisk gait, the clicking of so many heels against the pavements making a rhythmic, inspiring sound. some of the midshipmen in dave's section however, felt low-spirited that morning. they had been looking through their text-books, and felt a dread that they would not be able to keep up the stiff pace of learning long enough to get past the semi-annual examinations in the coming january. dave and dan, however, both felt in good spirits. they had looked through the first lessons in algebra, and felt that they would not have much trouble at the outset, anyway. they believed that they had been well grounded back in their high school days. on their way darrin's section was passed by three officers of the navy. midshipmen must always salute officers of the navy. while marching in sections, however, the only midshipman who salutes is the section leader. three times dave's hand came smartly up to the visor of his cap in salute, while the other men in his section looked straight ahead. reaching academic hall dave marched his section mates into the recitation room. lieutenant bradshaw, the instructor, was already present, standing by his desk. darrin saluted the lieutenant as soon as he had halted the section. "sir, i report all members of the section present." five of the midshipmen were directed by lieutenant bradshaw to go to their seats. the rest were ordered to blackboards, dave and dan among the latter number. those at the blackboards were each given a problem to lay out on the blackboard. then the instructor turned to the fourth class men who remained in their seats. these he questioned, in turn, on various aspects of the day's lesson. all the time the midshipmen at the blackboard worked busily away, each blocking out phase after phase of his problem. dave darrin was first to finish. he turned his back to the board, taking the position of parade rest. dan was third to finish. "mr. darrin, you may explain your work," announced lieutenant bradshaw. this dave did, slowly, carefully, though without painful hesitation. when he had finished the instructor asked him several questions about the problem, and about some other phases of the day's work. darrin did not jump at any of his answers, but made them thoughtfully. "very good, indeed, mr. darrin," commented the instructor. "but, when you are more accustomed to reciting here, i shall hope for a little more speed in answering." as dave was returning to his seat lieutenant bradshaw marked him 3.8 per cent on the day's work. that was an excellent marking, 4 being the highest. the lowest average in a study which a midshipman may have, and hold his place in the naval academy, is 2.5. anything below 2.5 is unsatisfactory, which, in midshipman parlance is "unsat." taking 4 to represent 100 per cent., 2.5 stands for 62.5 per cent. this would not be a high average to expect, as courses are laid down in the average high school of the land; but as most of our american high schools go 2.5 at annapolis is at least as good a marking as 90 per cent would be in a high school. "good old dave leaks too slow at the spout, does he?" chuckled dan to himself, as he waited at parade rest. "when it comes my turn, then, as i happen to know my problem as well as the fellow who wrote the book, i'll rattle off my explanation at a gait that will force the lieutenant to stand on his feet to hear all i say." dalzell was the fourth man called upon at the blackboard. taking a deep breath, and assuming a tremendously earnest look, dan plunged into the demonstration of his problem as fast as he could fire the words out. lieutenant bradshaw, however, listened through to the end. "your demonstration is correct, mr dalzell," said the instructor quietly. "however while speed in recitation is of value, in the future try to speak just a little more slowly and much more distinctly. you are fitting yourself to become a naval officer one of these days. on shipboard it is of the utmost importance that an officer's voice be always distinct and clear, in order that every word he utters may be instantly understood. try to keep this always in mind, mr. dalzell, and cultivate the habit of speaking distinctly." the rebuke was a very quiet one, and courteously given. but dan, who knew that every other man in the section was grinning in secret over his discomfiture, was quickly losing his nerve. then, without favor, lieutenant bradshaw questioned dan searchingly on other details of the day's work. dan stammered, and forgot much that he had thought he knew. lieutenant bradshaw set down a mark of 2.9, whereas dalzell, had he stuck sensibly to the business in hand, would have been marked as high as dave had been. as the section was marching back to bancroft dan whispered: "dave, did you hear the old owl go 'too-whoo' at me in the section room?" "stop talking in section!" ordered dave crisply. "blazes! there isn't a single spot at annapolis where a fellow can take a chance on being funny!" muttered dalzell under his breath. "dave, old chum," cried dan tossing his cap on the bed as they entered their room. "are you going to turn greaser, and stay greaser?" "what do you mean?" asked darrin quietly. "you told me to shut up in the ranks." "that was right, wasn't it? i am under orders to see that there is no talking in the section when marching." "not even a solitary, teeny little word, eh?" "not if i can stop it," replied dave. "and what if you can't stop it?" "then i am obliged to direct the offender to put himself on the report." "great scott! would you tell your chum to frap the pap for a little thing like that, and take demerits unto himself?" "if i had to," nodded dave. "you see, dan, we're here trying to learn to be naval officers and to hold command. now, it's my belief that a man who can't take orders, and stick to them, isn't fit to give orders at any period in his life." "this sort of thing is getting on my nerves a bit," grumbled dan. "just think of all the freedom we had in the good old days back at gridley!" "this is a new life, dan--a different one and a better one." "maybe," half assented dalzell, who was beginning to accumulate the elements of a "grouch." "dan," asked darrin, as he seated himself at his desk and opened a book preparatory to a long bit of hard study, "don't you know that your bed isn't the regulation place to hang your cap?" "oh, hang the cap, and the regulations, too!" grumbled dalzell. "i'm beginning to feel that i've got to break through at some point." "pick up your cap, and put it on its hook--do," begged darrin coaxingly. at the same time he looked us with a smile which showed that he thought his friend was acting in a very juvenile manner. something impelled dan to comply with his chum's request. then, after hanging the cap, with great care, on its nail, the disgruntled one slipped to the study table and picked up a book. just as he did so there came a knock on the door. then lieutenant stapleton, in white gloves and wearing his sword, stepped into the room, followed by a midshipman, also white-gloved. lieutenant stapleton was the officer in charge, the young man the midshipman in charge of the floor. "good morning, gentlemen," said the lieutenant pleasantly, as both midshipmen promptly rose to their feet and stood at attention. dave and dan remained standing at attention while the lieutenant stepped quickly about the room, taking in everything with a practiced glance. "everything in order," commented the lieutenant, as he turned to the door. "resume your work, gentlemen." "maybe you're glad you hung your cap up just in time," grinned dave. "oh, bother the whole scheme!" grunted dan "the idea of a fellow having to be a jumping-jack all the time!" "a midshipman has to be a jumping-jack, i reckon," replied dave, "until he learns to be a man and to live up to discipline as only a man can." "see here, do you mean to say--" "go on with your study of english, unless you're sure you know all the fine points of the language," interrupted darrin. "i know i don't and i want time to study." dan gazed steadily at his chum, but darrin seemed too deeply absorbed in his work to be conscious of the gaze. on the whole studies and recitations passed off rather pleasantly for both chums that day, though both could see that there were breakers ahead. after supper a few minutes were allowed for recreation, which consisted mostly of an opportunity for the midshipmen to chat with each other. then came the call that sent them to their rooms to study for two solid hours. "i wish the powers that be would let us sit up an hour later," sighed dave, looking up from his book in the middle of the study period. "i'd rather they'd let us sleep an hour later in the morning," grumbled dan. "but, really, it would be great to have chance to study an hour more each evening," insisted dave. "huh!" "yes; i begin to feel that we're going to need more study time than we get, if we're ever to pass." at 9.30 the release bell rang. dan closed his book with a joyful bang, darrin closing his much more reluctantly. "i'm going visiting," declared dalzell, starting toward the door. before he could reach the door, however, there sounded a slight knock and two midshipmen of the third class stepped in. "mister, what's your name?" demanded one of the visitors. "dalzell, sir," replied dan, standing at attention. "what's yours, mister? "darrin, sir." "stand on your head, mister." dave obeyed with good-natured speed. "that will do, mister. now, on your head, mister." dan made a grimace, but obeyed. then the other visitor demanded: "do either of you fourth class men intend to try to be ratey?" "no, sir," replied darrin promptly. "do you, mister?" turning to dalzell. "no, sir." "are you both a bit touge?" asked the youngster questioner. "i hope not, sir," replied dave. "do you feel that way, mister?"--looking at dan. "what way, sir?" "do you feel inclined to be touge, mister?" "i'm willing to be anything that's agreeable, and not too much work, sir," replied dan, grinning. it is offensive for a fourth class man to grin in the presence of an upper class man. moreover, two other youngsters had just stepped into the room to watch proceedings. "mister," commanded the youngster whom dan had answered, "wipe that grin off your face." dalzell drew out his handkerchief, making several elaborate passes across his countenance with it. "touge!" growled his inquisitor. "very touge, indeed," assented the other three youngsters. "why did you bring out your handkerchief, mister?" "just obeying orders," replied dan, with another grin. "wipe that grin off your face, sir!--no, not with your handkerchief!" so dalzell thrust the handkerchief away and applied his blouse sleeve to his face. "stop that, mister! "yes, sir," replied dalzell meekly. "don't you know how to wipe a grin off your face?" "i'm not sure, sir," dan admitted. "mister, you are wholly touge! i'm not sure but that you're a ratey plebe as well." thereupon youngster quimby plunged into a scathing lecture on the subject of a plebe being either touge or ratey. at first dan listened with a becoming air of respect. before long, however, a huge grin began to illumine dalzell's face. "wipe that grin off, mister!" commanded mr. quimby sternly. "i--i simply can't!" gasped dan, then began to roar with laughter. "why can't you?" insisted quimby. "what's the matter? "it's--it's your face!" choked dan. "my face?" repeated quimby, reddening "what do you mean, sir?" "i--i--it would be a shame to tell you!" sputtered dalzell between spasms of laughter. truth to tell, midshipman quimby did look funny when he attempted to be over-stern. quimby's face was one of his sensitive points, anyway. yet it was not, strictly speaking, the face, but the look of precocious authority on that face which had sent dan, with his keen sense of humor, off into spasms of laughter. but the youngster didn't propose to see the point. "mister," spoke midshipman quimby, with an added sternness of look that sent dan off into another guffaw, "you have been guilty of insulting an upper class man. your offense has been so serious--so rank--that i won't accept an apology. you shall fight, mister!" "when? whom?" asked dan, the big grin still on his face. "_me_, mister--and as soon as the thing can be pulled off." "oh, all right, sir," nodded dalzell. "any time you like, then, sir. i've been accustomed, before coming here, to getting most of my exercise out of fighting. but--pardon me, if i meet, i shall have to hit--pardon me--that face." "call this plebe out, quimby, and trim him in good shape," urged one of the other youngsters present. "he's touge all the way through. he'll need trimming." "and he'll get it, too," wrathfully promised midshipman quimby, who was rated high as a fighter at the naval academy. chapter x "just for exercise" "now, then, mister, keep your eyes on my humorous face!" it was the next evening, over behind the old government hospital. midshipman quimby had just stepped forward, from the hands of his seconds, two men of the third class. "i can't keep my eyes away from that face, and my hands are aching to follow the same route, sir," grimaced dalzell. he, too, had just stepped forward from the preliminary care of dave and of rollins, for that latter fourth class man was as anxious to see this fight as he had been the other one. "stop your talk, mister," commanded midshipman ferris, of the second class, who was present to officiate as referee. "on the field you talk with your hands. don't be touge all the time, or you'll soon have a long fight calendar." "very good, sir," nodded dan, his manner suddenly most respectful--as far as appearance went. dave darrin did not by any means approve his chum's conduct of the night before, but dave was on hand as second, just the same, and earnestly hoping that dan might get at least his share of the honors in the event that was now to be "pulled off." "gentlemen," began mr. ferris, in the monotonous way of referees, "this fight is to be to a finish, without gloves. hand-shaking will be dispensed with. are you ready?" "ready!" assented both. "time!" both men advanced warily. quimby knew well enough that he could whip the plebe, but he didn't intend to let dalzell get in any blows that could be guarded against. both men danced about until mr. ferris broke in, rather impatiently: "stop eating chocolates and mix it up!" "like this, sir?" questioned dan. darting in, on a feint, he followed quimby's block with a blow that jolted the youngster's chin. then dan slipped away again, grinning gleefully, well aware that nothing would anger quimby more easily than would that same grin. "i'll wipe that disgrace off your face myself," growled quimby, closing in briskly. "come over here and get it," taunted dan, showing some of his neatest footwork. quimby sent in three blows fast; two of them dalzell blocked, but one hit him on the chest, staggering him slightly. midshipman quimby started to follow up his advantage. in another moment, however, he was backing away with a cut lip. "there's something to wipe off your own face," suggested dan, grinning harder than ever. stung, mr. quimby made strenuous efforts to pay back with worse coin. he was still trying when the call of time sounded. "you didn't half go in after him, dan," murmured dave, as the latter and rollins quickly toweled their man in the corner. "if i had, i might have gotten more of him than i wanted," muttered dalzell. "why don't you mix it up faster?" queried rollins. "because," proclaimed midshipman dan, "i don't want to fight or get hurt. i'm doing this sort of thing just for exercise, you understand." then they were called into the second round. quimby, in the meantime, had been counseled to crowd the plebe hard, and to hammer him when he got close. so, now, quimby started in to do broadside work. at last he scored fairly, hitting dalzell on the nose and starting the flow. but, within ten seconds, dalzell had return the blow with interest. after that things went slowly for a few more seconds, when time was again called. "that plebe isn't exactly easy," quimby confided to his seconds. "i've got to watch him, and be cautious. i haven't seen a plebe as cool and ready in many a day." in the third round quimby was perhaps too cautious. he did not rush enough. dan, on the other hand, bore down a bit. just before the call of time he closed quimby's right eye. both quimby and his seconds were now dubious, though the youngster's fighting pluck and determination ran as high as ever. "i've got to wipe him off the field in this fourth round, or go to the grass myself," murmured quimby, while his seconds did the best they could with him. "i'm warming up finely," confided dan to dave and rollins. "you're coming through all right," nodded dave confidently. "at present you have twice as much vision as the other fellow, and only a fraction as much of soreness. but keep on the watch to the end." for the first twenty seconds of the new round it was quimby who was on the defensive. dan followed him up just warmly enough to be annoying. at last, however, dan straightened, stiffened, and there was a quick flash in his eyes. he saw his chance, and now he jumped in at it. his feint reached for quimby's solar plexus, but the real blow, from dalzell's right hand, hammered in, all but closing quimby's other eye. smack! right on top of that staggerer came a hook that landed on the youngster's forehead with such force that quimby fell over backward. he tried to catch himself, but failed, and lurched to the ground. "--six, seven, eight--" counted the timekeeper. quimby staggered bravely to his feet, but stood there, his knees wobbling, his arms all but hanging at his side. dan did not try to hit. he backed off slightly keeping only at half-guard and watching his opponent. "what's the matter, quimby" called mr. ferris. "can't you go on?" "yes; i'm going on, to the knock-out!" replied the youngster doggedly. he tried to close in, but was none too steady on his feet. dan, watching him, readily footed it, merely watching for the youngster to lead out. "time!" quimby's two seconds rushed to his side. midshipman ferris and the time-keeper also gathered around. "quimby," spoke the referee, "you're in no shape to go on." "i can stand up and be hit," muttered the youngster gamely. "mr. dalzell, do you care to go further?" asked mr. ferris. "i shan't attempt to hit mr. quimby, sir, unless he develops a good deal more steam." ferris looked at quimby's seconds. they shook their head. "i award the fight to mister dalzell," declared midshipman ferris. "oh, give it to mr. quimby, if you don't mind, sir," begged dan. "he got the game, and might as well have the name along with it." "mister, don't be touge all the time," cried mr. ferris sharply. "i don't mean to be, sir," replied dan quite meekly. "what i meant to convey, sir, is that i don't care anything about winning fights. the decision, sir, is of very little importance to me. i don't fight because i like it, but merely because i need the exercise. a fight about once a week will be very much to my liking, sir." "you'll get it, undoubtedly," replied midshipman ferris dryly. "whee, won't it be great!" chuckled dan, in an undertone, as he stepped over to his seconds. "give me that towel, dave. i can rub myself off." while dan was dressing, and quimby was doing the same, one of the seconds of the youngster class came over, accompanied by the timekeeper. "mister, you really do fight as though you enjoyed it," remarked the latter. "but i don't," denied dan. "i'm willing to do it, though, to keep myself in condition. say once a week, except in really hot weather. a little game like this tones up the liver so that i can almost feel it dancing inside of me." as he spoke, dalzell clapped both hands to his lower left side and jumped up and down. "you heathen, your liver isn't there," laughed the time-keeper. "isn't it?" demanded dan. "now, i'm ready to maintain, at all times, that i know more about my liver and its hanging-out place than anyone else possibly can." there was a note of half challenge in this, but the time-keeper merely laughed and turned away. members of the second class usually feel too grave and dignified to "take it out of" plebes. that work is left to the "youngsters" of the third class. a little later mr. quimby presented himself for medical attendance. his face certainly showed signs of the need of tender ministration. "dan, why in the world are you so fresh?" remonstrated dave, when the two chums were back in their room. "you talk as though you wanted to fight every man in the upper classes. you'll get your wish, if you don't look out." "old fellow," replied dalzell quizzically, "i expect to get into two or three more fights. i don't mean to be touge, but i do intend to let it be seen that i look upon it as a lark to be called out. then, if i win the next two or three fights also, i won't be bothered any after that. this is my own scheme for joining the peace society before long." nor is it wholly doubtful that dan's was the best plan, in the long run, for a peaceful life among a lot of spirited young men. chapter xi midshipman henkel does some thinking "busy" asked midshipman henkel, of the fourth class, stepping into the room which farley and page shared. the release bell had just sounded, giving all of the young men a brief interval of freedom before taps. "not especially," laughed farley, as he finished stacking his books and papers neatly. it was about a week after the night of dan's fight with midshipman quimby. "let me get a good look at your face, farley, under the light," continued henkel. "why, it looks almost natural again. my, but it was a rough pounding that fellow, darrin, gave it!" "yes," nodded farley, flushing. "let me see; isn't it about time that you squared matters up with darrin?" went on midshipman henkel. "how? what do you mean?" demanded farley, while page, too, looked on with interest. "well, first of all, darrin gets the whole bunch of us ragged by the watchman. the when you object, he pounds your face at his own sweet will." "what are you trying to do?" laughed farley. "are you trying to fan up the embers of my wrath against darrin?" "such embers shouldn't need much fanning," retorted mr. henkel coolly. "surely, you are not going to let the dead dog lie?" "darrin and i fought the matter out, and he had the good fortune to win the appeal to force," replied plebe farley stiffly. "i don't associate with him now, and don't expect to, later on, if we both graduate into the navy." "that satisfies your notions of honor, does it, with regard to a man who not only injured you, but pounded your face to a fearful pulp?" henkel's tone as he put the question, was one of bitter irony. "do you know," demanded farley, rising, his face now flushing painfully, "i don't wholly like your tone." "forget it, then," begged henkel. "i don't mean to be offensive to you, farley. i haven't the least thought in the world like that. but i take this whole darrin business so bitterly to heart that i suppose i am unable to comprehend how you can be so meek about it." "meek?" cried farley. "what do you mean by that word?" "well, see here," went on henkel coaxingly, "are we men of spirit, or are we not? we fellows devise a little outing in the town of annapolis. it's harmless enough, though it happens to be against the rules in the little blue book. we are indiscreet enough to let darrin in on the trick, and he pipes the whole lay off to some one. result--we are 'ragged' and fifty 'dems.' apiece. when you accuse darrin of his mean work he gives you the lie. true, you show spirit enough to fight him for it, but the fight turns out to be simply more amusement for him. now, i've been thinking over this thing and i can't rest until the mean work is squared. but i find you, who suffered further indignities under darrin's fists, quite content to let the matter rest. that's why i am astonished, and why i say so frankly." having delivered this harangue with an air of patient justice, henkel seated himself with one leg thrown over the edge of the study table, waiting to hear what farley could say in reply. "well, what do you plan to do further in the matter?" insisted midshipman farley. "to get square with darrin!" "how?" "well, now see here, farley, and you, too, page, what has happened? at first we had the class pretty sore against darrin for getting our crowd ragged. since the fight, however, in which you were pummeled like--" "never mind my fate in the fight," interposed farley. "it was a fair fight." "well, ever since the fight," resumed henkel, "darrin has been climbing up again in class favor. most of the boobies in the fourth class seem to feel that, just because darrin hammered you so, the beating you received proves darrin's innocence of a mean act." "i can't help what the class concludes," retorted farley stiffly. "page, you have more spirit than that, haven't you?" demanded henkel, wheeling upon midshipman farley's roommate. "i hope i have spirit enough," replied page, bridling slightly, "but i am aware of one big lack." "what is that?" "i seem to lack the keen intelligence needed to understand what you are driving at, henkel." "that's the point, henkel," broke in midshipman farley, walking the floor in short turns. "just what are you driving at? why are you trying to make me mad by such frequent references to the fact that darrin won his fight with me?" "i'm sounding you fellows," admitted henkel. "that's just what it rings like," affirmed midshipman page, nodding his head. "well, out with it! what's your real proposition?" "are you with me?" asked midshipman henkel warily. "how can we tell," demanded farley impatiently, "until you come down out of the thunder clouds, and tell us just what you mean?" "pshaw, fellows," remarked mr. henkel, in exasperation, "i hate to think it, but i am beginning to wonder if you two have the amount of spirit with which i had always credited you." "cut out the part about the doubts," urged farley, "and tell us, in plain english, just what you are driving at." "fellows, i believe, then," explained midshipman henkel, "that we owe it to ourselves, to the naval academy and to the navy, to work dave darrin out of here as soon as we can." "how?" challenged farley flatly. "why, can't we put up some scheme that will pile up the 'dems.' against that industrious greaser? can't we spring a game that will wipe all his grease-marks off the efficiency slate?" asked midshipman henkel mysteriously. "do you mean by putting up a job on darrin?" inquired page. "that's just it!" nodded henkel, with emphasis. "putting up a job on a man usually calls for trickery, doesn't it?" questioned farley. "why, yes--that is--er--ingenuity," admitted henkel. "trickery isn't the practice of a gentleman, is it?" insisted farley. "it has to be, sometimes, when we are fighting a rascal," retorted midshipman henkel. "i'm afraid i don't see that," rejoined page, shaking his head. "dirty work is never excusable. i'd sooner let a fellow seem to win over me, for the time being, than to resort to trickery or anything like underhanded methods for getting even with him." "good for you, page!" nodded farley "that's the whole game for a gentleman--and that's what either a midshipman or a naval officer is required to be. henkel, old fellow, you are a little too hot under your blouse collar tonight. wait until you've cooled off, and you'll sign in with us on our position." "then you fellows are going to play the meek waiting game with darrin, are you?" sneered henkel. "we're going to play the only kind of game that a gentleman may play," put in page incisively, "and we are not going to dally with any game about which a gentleman need feel the least doubt." "you've spoken for me, page, old chap," added farley. midshipman henkel took his leg off the desk, stood there for a moment, eyeing his two comrades half sneeringly, then turned on his heel and left the room. just before he closed the door after him henkel called back: "good night, fellows." "well, what do you think of that?" demanded farley, a moment later. "i think," replied midshipman page, "just as you do, that darrin, in his desire to bone grease somewhere, played a dirty trick on us. i consider darrin to be no better than a dog, and i apologize to the dog. but we're not going to make dogs of ourselves in order to even up matters." "we're certainly not," replied farley, with a nod. "oh, well, henkel is a mighty good fellow, at heart. he'll cool down and come around all right." at that instant, however, midshipman henkel, with a deep scowl on his face, was whispering mysteriously with his roommate brimmer. chapter xii a chronic pap frapper another week had passed. by this time all of the new midshipmen had had a very strong taste of what the "grind" is like at the u.s. naval academy. if the lessons had seemed hard at the outset, the young men now regarded the tax demanded on their brains as little short of inhuman. the lessons were long and hard. no excuse of "unprepared" or otherwise was ever accepted in a section room. the midshipman who had to admit himself "unprepared" immediately struck "zip," or absolute zero as a marking for the day. many such marks would swiftly result in dragging even a bright man's average down to a point where he would fall below two-five and be "unsat." "i thought we plugged along pretty steadily when we were in the high school," sighed dave darrin, looking up from a book. "danny boy, a day's work here is fully three times as hard as the severest day back at the high school. "david, little giant," retorted dalzell, "your weak spot is arithmetic. it's just seven times as hard here as the worst deal that we ever got in the high school." "oh, well," retorted darrin doggedly, "other men have stood this racket before us, and have graduated into the navy. if they did it, we can do it, too. mr. trotter was telling me, yesterday, that the plebe year is the hardest year of all here." "mr. trotter is a highly intelligent individual, then," murmured dan dalzell. "he explained that the first year is the hardest just because the new man has never before learned how to study. after our first year here, he says, we'll have the gait so that we can go easily at the work given us." "if we ever live through the first year," murmured dan disconsolately. "as for me, i'm hovering at the 'unsat.' line all the time, and constantly fearing that i'm going to be unseated. if i could see myself actually getting through the first year here, with just enough of an average to save me, i'd be just as happy as ever a fourth class man can hope to be here." "remember the old gridley spirit, danny boy," coaxed dave. "we can't be licked--just because we don't know how to take a licking. we're going to get through here, danny, and we're going to become officers in the navy. it's tough on the way--that's all." "and we green young idiots," sighed dalzell, "thought the life here was just a life of parading, with yachting thrown in on the side. we were going to feel swell in our gold lace, and puff out our chests under the approving smiles of the girls. we were going to lead the german--and, say, dave, what were some of the other fool things we expected to find happiness in doing at annapolis? "it served us right," grunted darrin, "if we imagined that we were going to get through without real work. danny boy, i don't believe there's a single thing in life--worth having--a fellow can get without working hard for it!" "there goes the call for mathematics, dave. we'll tumble out and see whether we can get a two-six today. "or a two-seven," suggested darrin hopefully. "my, but how far away a full four seems! "did anyone ever get a full four?" asked dan, opening his eyes very wide. as each, with his uniform cap set squarely on, and his book and papers carried in left hand, turned out, he found the corridor to be swarming with midshipmen fully as anxious as were this pair. a minute later hundreds of midshipmen were forming by classes. then the classes parted into sections and the little groups marched away in many directions, all going at brisk military gait. dave got through better, that forenoon, than usual. he made a three-one, while dalzell scored a two-eight. then this section, one of many, marched back. as dave and dan swung down the corridor, and into their own room, they halted, just inside the door, and came quickly to attention. lieutenant hall, the officer in charge for the day, stood there, and with him the midshipman who served as assistant cadet officer of the day. "mr. darrin," spoke lieutenant hall severely, "here is your dress jacket on the floor, and with dust ground into it." "yes, sir," replied dave, saluting. "but i left it on its proper hook--i am sure of that." up came dan's hand in quick salute. "may i speak, sir?" "yes, mr. dalzell," replied the officer in charge. "i remember seeing mr. darrin's coat hanging properly on its hook, sir, just before we marched off to math. recitation." "did you leave the room, mr. dalzell, after mr. darrin, or even with him?" questioned lieutenant hall. "no-o, sir. i stepped out just ahead of mr. darrin." "that is all, then, mr. dalzell. mr. darrin, there is a pair of your shoes. they are in place, but one of them is muddy." dave glanced at the shoes uneasily, a flush coming to his face. "i am certain, sir, that both shoes were in proper condition when i left to go to the last recitation." "then how do you account for the dust-marked dress jacket on the floor, and the muddy shoe, mr. darrin?" "i can think of no explanation to offer, sir." "nor can i imagine any excuse," replied lieutenant hall courteously, yet skeptically. lieutenant hall made a further inspection of the room, then turned to dave. "mr. darrin, you will put yourself on the report for these two examples of carelessness of your uniform equipment." "very good, sir." saluting, dave crossed to the study table, laying his book and papers there. then, once more saluting, he passed lieutenant hall and made his way to the office of the officer in charge. taking one of the blanks, and a pen, dave darrin filled out the complaint against himself, and turned it over. "dave, you didn't leave your things in any such shape as that?" burst from dan as soon as dave had returned to his room. "i didn't do it--of course i didn't," came impatiently from darrin. "then who did?" "some fellow may have done it for a prank." dan shook his head, replying, stubbornly: "i don't believe that any fellow in the naval academy has a sense of humor that would lead him to do a thing like that, just as a piece of what he would consider good-natured mischief. dave, this sort of report against you on pap means demerits." "fortunately," smiled darrin, "the pap sheet is so clear of my name that i can stand a few demerits without much inconvenience." but at breakfast formation, the next morning, dave's name was read off with twenty demerits. "that's a huge shame," blazed forth dan, as soon as the chums were back in their room, preparing to march to their first recitation. "oh, well, it can't be helped--can it?" grimaced dave. within the next fortnight, however, darrin's equipment and belongings were found to be in bad shape no less than five other times. with a few demerits which he had received in the summer term dave now stood up under one hundred and twenty demerits. "i'm allowed only three hundred demerits for the year, and two hundred by january will drop me," muttered dave, now becoming thoroughly uneasy. for, by this time, he was certain that some unknown enemy had it "in for him." darrin felt almost morally certain that some one--and it must be a midshipman--was at the bottom these troubles. yet, though he and dan had done all they could think of to catch the enemy, neither had had the least success in this line. "eighty demerits more to go," muttered dave, "and the superintendent will recommend to the secretary of the navy that i be dropped for general inaptitude. it seems a bit tough, doesn't it, danny boy?" "it's infamous!" blazed dalzell. "oh, if i could only catch the slick rascal who is at the bottom of all this!" "but both of us together don't seem to be able to catch him," replied darrin dejectedly. "oh, well, perhaps there won't be any more of it. of course, i am already deprived of all privileges. but then, i never care to go into annapolis, and i am never invited to officers' quarters, anyway, so the loss of privileges doesn't mean so very much. it's the big danger of losing my chance to remain here at the naval academy that is worrying me." yet outwardly, to others, dave darrin was patient. his surplus irritation he vented in extraordinary effort in the gymnasium, where he was making a remarkable record for himself. but of course his worries were reflected in his studies and recitations. dave was dropping steadily. he seemed soon destined to reach the "wooden section" in math. this "wooden section" is the section composed of the young men who stand lowest of all in a given study. the men of the "wooden section" are looked upon as being certain of dismissal when the semiannual examinations come along. now, for five days, things went along more in a better groove. nothing happened to darrin, and he was beginning to hope that his very sly persecutor had ceased to annoy him for good. on the sixth day, however, the chums returned from recitation in english. "nothing seems to be wrong here," remarked dave, with a sigh of satisfaction. "umf--umf!" sniffed dan, standing still in the middle of the room. "doesn't it smell a little as though some one had been smoking in here?" "don't even suggest the thing!" begged dave turning white at the thought. tap-tap! sounded at the door. in walked the white-gloved cadet assistant officer of the day. "mr. darrin, you will report immediately to the officer in charge." "very good, sir," dave answered. this was again lieutenant hall's day to be in charge. dave walked into that gentleman's office, saluted, reported his presence under orders and then stood at attention. "mr. darrin," began lieutenant hall, "i had occasion to inspect your room. the air was quite thick with tobacco smoke. i felt it necessary to make a very thorough search. in the pocket of your rain-coat i found"--lieutenant hall produced from his desk a pouch of tobacco and a well-seasoned pipe--"these." the officer in charge looked keenly at darrin, who had turned almost deathly white. certainly dave had the appearance of one wholly guilty. "have you anything to say, mr. darrin?" continued the officer in charge. "i have never, in my life, sir, smoked or used tobacco in any form," darrin truthfully answered. "then how did these articles come to be in your possession?" "they were _not in my possession_, sir, were they?" darrin asked, with the utmost respect. lieutenant hall frowned perceptibly. "mr. darrin, do not attempt any quibble. the circumstances under which these articles were found place them sufficiently in your possession. what have you to say that will clear you?" "i can offer, sir, the testimony of my roommate, mr. dalzell, who will declare most positively that he has never known me to use tobacco." "did mr. dalzell leave your room with you when you went to your last recitation?" "no, sir; he left fifteen minutes before, by permission, to go to his locker in the gymnasium to look over certain articles there." "then you are unable to call your roommate to support your assertion that you did not smoke before going with your section to recitation in english?" "i have only my unsupported word, sir, as a midshipman and a gentleman, to offer." "under almost all circumstances, mr. darrin, a midshipman's word of honor should be sufficient. but you have been reported several times of late, and with apparent justice. you will make in writing, mr. darrin, at once, such report as you wish to hand in on this incident, and the report against you will be considered in the usual way." dave returned to his room. though he was discouraged his face looked grim, and his air was resolute. taking pen and paper he began to prepare his report on this latest charge. having finished and signed, dave next picked up a bit of exercise paper and began to figure. "what are you doing, old chap?" asked dan sympathetically. "my head is in too much of a whirl for me to trust myself to any mental arithmetic," darrin answered. "i have been figuring how much further i have to go. first offense of having tobacco in possession calls for twenty-five demerits. that brings the total up to one hundred and forty-five. dave, i have a lease of life here amounting to fifty-four more demerits in this term. the fifty-fifth signs my ticket home! "the next trick of this kind attempted," cried dalzell, his face glowing with anger, "must sign, instead, the home ticket of the rascal who is at the bottom of all this!" "but how?" demanded dave blankly. "he has been entirely too slick to allow himself to be caught." chapter xiii midshipman farley's about-face the gloom that now hung over dave darrin was the thickest, the blackest that he had ever encountered in his short life. he was fully convinced, of course, that his troubles were the work of some determined and unscrupulous enemy or enemies. yet he was equally convinced that he was not likely to catch the plotter against his happiness. he and dan had already done all that seemed to be in their power. on the saturday afternoon following the tobacco incident the first ray came to light up the gloom--though it did not take away any of awesome demerits that had piled up against him. dave and dan were standing chatting in a group of about a score of fourth class men when farley and page stepped briskly in their direction. dave glanced at the pair in some astonishment, for it was weeks since he had been on speaking terms with either of them, and now both looked as though about to address him. "one moment gentlemen, all, if you please," called out midshipman farley. "let no one leave just now. i have something to say that i wish to make as public as possible." then, turning toward the astonished darrin, mr. farley continued: "darrin, i got into a bad scrape once, and i accused you of carrying the information that resulted in several others and myself being detected. i was positive in my charge. i now wish to make you the most public apology that is possible. i know now that you did not in any way betray myself and my companions." "i am glad you have come to this conclusion," dave darrin replied. "it is not exactly a conclusion," replied farley frankly. "it is a discovery." "how did you find it out, farley?" asked dan dalzell, speaking to that midshipman for the first time in many weeks. "i have the word of the watchman who caught us. that is old grierson, and there isn't a more honest old fellow in the yard." "did you ask grierson, farley?" questioned another midshipman gravely. "no; for that would be to pile on another offense," replied farley readily. "i am well enough aware that a midshipman has no right to go to a watchman about a matter in which the watchman has reported him. but a civilian is under no such restrictions. as some of you fellows know, my cousin, sloan, was here at the academy yesterday. now, ben sloan is a newspaper man, and a fellow of an inquiring disposition. i told ben something about the scrape i had been in, and ben soon afterward hunted up grierson. grierson told ben the whole truth about it. it seems that grierson did not have any information from anyone. he saw our crowd go over the fence the night we frenched it. but grierson was too far away to catch any of us, or recognize us. so he made no alarm, but just waited and prowled until we came back. he heard the noise we made trying to get up over the wall from the outside, and ran down to that part of the wall. he didn't make any noise, and stood in the shrubbery until we had all dropped over. then he stepped out, looked us over quickly and demanded our names. he had us ragged cold, so there was nothing to do but give him our names. now, there's the whole story fellows, and i'm mighty glad i've got at the truth of it." "so am i," muttered dan dryly. "darrin, you haven't said whether you accept my apology," farley continued insistently. "i'm mighty sorry for the whole thing, and i'm glad you thrashed me as you did when we met. i richly deserved that for my hot-headedness." for just a moment dave darrin couldn't speak, but he held out his hand. "thank you, old fellow," cried farley, grasping it. "from now on i hope we shall trust each other and be friends always." farley had been a good deal spoiled at home, and had a hasty, impetuous temper. his career at annapolis, however, was doing much to make a man of him in short time. several of the other midshipmen spoke, expressing their pleasure that the whole thing was cleared up, and that dave had proved to be above suspicion. "and now i'm off to find the other fellows who were with me that night," continued farley. "i've told page, already, but i've got to find scully and oates, henkel and brimmer and put them straight also." five minutes later farley was explaining to midshipman henkel. "well, you are the softy!" said henkel, in a sneering tone. "why?" demanded farley stiffly. "to fall for a frame-up like that." "do you mean that my cousin lied to me?" "no; but grierson certainly did." "old man grierson is no liar," retorted farley. "he is one of most trusted employes in the yard. he has caught many a midshipman, but grierson is such a square old brick that the midshipmen of two generations love him." "you're too easy for this rough world," jeered midshipman henkel. "perhaps i am," retorted farley. "but i'm going through it decently, anyway." "so you went and rubbed down darrin's ruffled fur as gently as you could," continued henkel. "i went to him and apologized--the only thing a man could do under the circumstances." "and now i suppose some of the fellows are trying to build up an altar to darrin as the class idol?" "i don't know. i hope so, for i'm convinced that dave darrin is as decent a fellow as ever signed papers at annapolis." "go on out and buy some incense to burn before darrin," laughed henkel harshly. perhaps mr. henkel might not have been as flippant had he known that, all the time, farley was studying him intently. "so, in spite of all explanations, you still have no use for darrin?" asked midshipman farley. "i have just as much use for him as i have for any other big sneak," retorted mr. henkel. "he betrayed us to the watchman, and i don't care what explanations are offered to show that he didn't." "and you won't be friendly with darrin?" insisted farley. "i?" asked henkel scornfully. "not for an instant! "well, i hardly believe that darrin will care much," replied mr. farley, turning on his heel and walking out of the room. "it's a mighty good thing that darrin is going to be dropped out of annapolis," growled henkel to himself. "he's altogether too slick in playing a dirty trick on people and then swinging them around so that they'll fawn upon him. when farley first came here he was a fellow of spirit. but he's been going bad for some time, and now he's come out straight and clean for grease-mark!" saturday afternoon proved a dull time for dave darrin. the heavy pile of demerits opposite his name prevented his getting leave even to stroll out into the town of annapolis. dan could have gone, but would not leave his chum. sunday morning there was chapel, but dave, usually attentive, heard hardly a word of the discourse. sunday afternoon he turned doggedly to his books. dan, who was getting along better, and who just now, stood three sections higher than dave in math., went visiting among the members of his class. sunday evening all the cadets were again busy at their studies until 9.30. as early as the regulations allowed dave turned down his bed, undressed and got into it, feeling utterly "blue." "it's no use," he told himself, as he lay awake, thinking, thinking, thinking. "some one has it in for me, of course. but dan and i together can't find out who the rascal is. he may try nothing against me again, for weeks, but sooner or later he'll turn another demerit trick against me. before january i shall be home again, looking for some sort of job." before eight o'clock the following morning the class, after muster, broke into sections which marched away to recitation in math. dan dalzell was now section leader of one group. dave marched in the ranks of a much lower section. this morning the section with which dave marched was one man short. not until the members had taken their seats, or places at the blackboards, did darrin give heed enough to note that it was farley who was absent. the section leader, however, had reported that mr. farley was absent by permission of the head of the department of mathematics, "for purposes of study." unusual as this excuse was the instructor had accepted it without making any inquiry. if farley was in his room for purposes of study, then what kind of "study" could it be? for at that precise moment, midshipman farley was standing close to a tiny crack between the edge of his room door and the jamb. he was "peeking" out attentively. curiously enough midshipman page, farley's roommate, had also been excused from attending section work. at this moment mr. page sat tilted back in his chair, with his feet resting across the corner of the study table. a most unmilitary pose for mr. page, to be sure. yet what need was there to fear report with roommate farley thus industriously standing by the door? so mr. page hummed softly to himself and stared out of the window. midshipman farley remained by the door until he was becoming decidedly wearied of his occupation, and page had several times shifted his feet. then, all of a sudden, midshipman farley turned with a low, sharp hiss. "it?" whispered midshipman page, rising swiftly. "yes," nodded farley. midshipman page walked swiftly out of the room, though his heels did not make as much noise as usual. just after page had left the room midshipman farley stole along the corridor, halting before a door. there he paused, as though on duty. it was not long before his erect attitude was accounted for, for lieutenant nettleson, the officer in charge, came down into the corridor, followed by the cadet officer of the day. just a little way behind them walked midshipman page. farley stood quickly at attention, saluting the officer in charge, who returned the salute. chapter xiv the trap in midshipmen's quarters tap-tap! sounded lieutenant nettleson's knuckles on the door. just a shade longer than usual the lieutenant waited ere he turned the door knob and entered the room. behind him, like a faithful orderly, stood midshipman hawkins, of the first class, cadet officer of the day. a quick look about the room lieutenant nettleson took, then turned to the cadet officer of the day. "mr. hawkins," spoke the o.c., "mr. darrin seems to be growing worse in his breaches of duty." "so it seems, sir," agreed the cadet officer the day. "mr. darrin has left his bed turned down," continued the lieutenant, inspecting that article of furniture. "and, judging by the looks of the sheets, he has been abed with his boots on." "yes sir." "you will put mr. darrin on the report for this latest offense, mr. hawkins." "aye, aye, sir." lieutenant nettleson made a further inspection of the room. "and mr. darrin has neglected to empty his washbowl. he has also thrown the towel on the floor. put mr. darrin on the report for that as well." "aye, aye, sir." "that is all here, mr hawkins." "very good, sir." o.c. and cadet officer of the day turned to leave the room. as they were crossing the threshold midshipman farley, saluting, reported: "i think, sir, if you search more closely, you will find some one in this room." "very good," replied the officer in charge, turning back. in truth, lieutenant nettleson was already aware that there was a prowler in the room, for he had seen a pair of feet in a dark corner; but he had purposely awaited midshipman farley's report. now, swift as a flash, lieutenant nettleson turned back, going straight so the cupboard in which dave darrin's uniform equipment hung. pushing aside a dress uniform and a raincoat that hung like curtains, lieutenant nettleson gazed into the face of--midshipman henkel! henkel had been caught so suddenly, had realized it so tardily, that the grin of exultation had not quite faded from his face by the time that he stood exposed. in another second, however, that midshipman's face had turned as white as dirty chalk. "stand forth, sir!" ordered the o.c. sternly. henkel obeyed, his legs shaking under him. "what is your name?" "henkel, sir." "mr. henkel, what are you doing in the room of another midshipman, in the absence of both occupants? "i--i--just dropped in, sir!" stammered affrighted midshipman. "mr. henkel, sir," continued lieutenant nettleson sternly, "it has long been a puzzle to the discipline officers why mr. darrin should so deliberately and senselessly invite demerits for lack of care of his equipment. you may now be certain that you will be accused of all breaches of good order and discipline that have been laid at mr. darrin's door. have you anything to say, sir." midshipman henkel, who had been doing some swift thinking, had had time enough to realize that no one had seen him doing any mischief in the room. the offense, merely, of visiting another midshipman's room improperly would call but for ten demerits. pooh! the scrape was such a simple one that he would lie valiantly out of the graver charge and escape with ten demerits. "i admit being here, sir, without propriety. i am innocent of any further wrongdoing, sir," lied the culprit. lieutenant nettleson studied the young man's face keenly. "mr. henkel, was mr. darrin's bed turned down and in its present disordered state when you entered the room?" "yes, sir." "you declare this on your honor as a midshipman and gentleman?" "yes, sir," lied the unabashed henkel. "was mr. darrin's washbowl in its present untidy state?" "i don't know, sir. i didn't notice that." "very good, mr. henkel. go to your room and remain there in close arrest. do not leave your room, except by orders or proper permission, sir." "very good, sir," replied henkel, saluting. then, his face still a ghastly hue, he turned and marched from the room, not venturing, under the eyes of the o.c., to look at either farley or page. when the sections came marching back from math. lieutenant nettleson stood outside the door of his office. "mr. darrin!" called the o.c. and, a moment later, "mr. dalzell!" both wondering midshipmen approached the officer in charge for the day at bancroft hall, and saluted. "mr. darrin," stated lieutenant nettleson, "you and your roommate may go to your room to leave your books. in the room you will find some evidences of disorder. do not attempt to set them straight. as soon as you have left your books return to me." "and i also, sir?" queried dan, saluting. "you, also, mr. dalzell," replied the officer. "now, has this thing broken loose again?" groaned dave darrin, as the two chums hurried below. "it seems as if it ought to stop some time," gasped dalzell. "it will, and soon," gritted darrin. "in a very short time, now, i shall certainly have the full course of two hundred demerits. great--scott!" for now the two chums were in their room, and saw the full extent of the mischief there. "i guess i may as well wire home to gridley for the price of my return ticket," hinted dave bitterly. "don't do anything of the sort," urged dan, though with but little hope in his voice. "you may still have a margin of ten or fifteen dems. left to hold you on." "we're under orders, danny boy, to report back to the o.c." "o.k." "come along, then." in the office of the officer in charge stood midshipmen farley and page. just after dave and dan entered henkel came in, accompanied midshipman hawkins, the cadet officer of day. it was an actually ferocious gaze that henkel turned upon darrin. in that same instant dave believed that a great light had broken in upon his mind. "mr. hawkins," requested the o.c., "ascertain whether the commandant of midshipmen can see us now." saluting, the cadet officer of the day passed out of the room, very prim and erect, his white gloves of duty a very conspicuous part of his uniform. in a few moments, he returned, raising his right, white-gloved hand to the visor of his cap. "the commandant of midshipmen is ready, sir." "come with me, then," directed lieutenant nettleson, who had already risen to receive the cadet officer's report. the o.c. led the way into the office of commander jephson, u.s. navy, the commandant of midshipmen. "this, mr. nettleson, i understand, relates to mr. darrin's late apparent course in matters of discipline?" inquired commander jephson. the commandant of midshipmen, who was middle-aged and slightly bald, removed his eye-glasses, holding them poised in his right hand while he gazed calmly at mr. nettleson. "yes, sir. this is the matter," replied the o.c., saluting his superior. commander jephson had, usually, a manner of slow and gentle speech. he impressed one, at first sight, as being a man lacking in "ginger," which was a great mistake, as many a midshipman had found to his cost. the commandant of cadets, however, did not believe in becoming excited or excitable until the occasion arose. "be good enough to make your statement, mr. nettleson," requested commander jephson. consulting a slip of paper that he held in his left hand the younger naval officer recounted the previous instances in which midshipman darrin, fourth class, u.s. naval academy, had been found delinquent in that he had slighted the care of his equipment or of his room. having made this preliminary statement, the officer in charge now came down to the doings of the present day. midshipman henkel kept his gaze fixed on lieutenant nettleson's face. henkel's bearing was almost arrogant. he had fully decided upon his course of lying himself out of his serious scrape. chapter xv air "the rogue's march" "it is already, sir," spoke lieutenant nettleson, "a matter of knowledge with you that mr. darrin denied his responsibility in each case of disorder among his personal belongings. it is also a matter within your knowledge, sir, that mr. darrin, finally, in his desperation, informed you that he believed that some enemy in the brigade of midshipmen was responsible for all the bad appearances against him. "the reply of this department, sir, to mr. darrin, was to the effect that, while there was a possibility of his claim being correct, yet it was nearly inconceivable. mr. darrin was given permission to bring forward any evidence he could secure in support of his view. as time passed, and he confessed himself unable to secure any such evidence, one set of demerits after another accumulated against mr. darrin. "yesterday, sir, so i am informed, mr. farley and mr. page approached you, stating that they believed they had good reason for suspecting a member of the brigade of seeking to injure mr. darrin. midshipmen farley and page also stated to you that they believed the offender to be a member of the half of the fourth class which does not recite in mathematics the same time as does the half of the class to which mr. darrin and his roommate belong. "as midshipmen farley and page belong to the half of the class that recites during the same periods as do mr. darrin and dalzell, midshipmen farley and page requested permission to remain in their room during the time when they would otherwise be reciting in mathematics. they were thus to remain for two mornings, and other members of the fourth class were then willing to stay on watch for two mornings more, and so on, until the offender against mr. darrin, if there was one, could be caught in the act." what a baleful glare midshipman henkel shot at farley and page! then henkel saw the eye of the commandant of midshipmen fixed curiously on him, and glanced down at the floor. "this very unusual permission, sir, you finally agreed to seek from the head of the department of mathematics. so, this morning, mr. farley and mr. page did not march off to recitation in mathematics, but remained in their room. presently mr. page reported to me, in great haste, that a midshipman other than mr. darrin, or mr. dalzell had just entered their room. i thereupon went down to that room, knocked, waited a moment, and then entered, accompanied by the cadet officer of the day. the condition of things that i found in the room you already, sir, know from my written report. while in the room i detected a pair of feet showing under the bottom of mr. darrin's uniform equipment hanging in his cupboard. i pretended, however not to see the feet, and turned to leave the room when mr. farley, as prearranged, stepped forward and informed me that he had seen some one enter the room a while before. i then turned and compelled the prowler to step forth. that prowler was mr. henkel." "you questioned mr. henkel as to his reason for being in the room?" asked commander jephson. "i did, sir." "did he deny guilty intention in being there?" "he did, sir, other than admitting that he had broken the regulations by entering another midshipman's room in that midshipman's absence." tapping his right temple with the eye-glasses that he held in his hand, the commandant of midshipmen turned to look more directly at the startled culprit. "mr. henkel, did you arrange any or all of the disorder which lieutenant nettleson reported having found in mr. darrin's room?" "i did not, sir." henkel's voice was clear, firm--almost convincing. "have you, at any time, committed any offense in mr. darrin's room, by tampering with his equipment or belongings, or with the furniture of the room?" "never, sir," declared midshipman henkel positively. "you are aware that mr. darrin has been punished by the imposition of a great many demerits for untidiness in the care of his equipment?" "yes, sir." "but you were not responsible for any of these seeming delinquencies on mr. darrin's part?" "never, sir." "you did not turn down, disarrange and soil his bed this forenoon, or create the appearance of untidiness in connection with mr. darrin washbowl?" "no, sir." "you make these denials on your word of honor, as a midshipman and gentleman?" persisted commander jephson. "i do, sir, and most earnestly and solemnly, sir," replied midshipman henkel. "one word, more, mr. henkel," went on the commandant of midshipmen. "when you improperly entered mr. darrin's room this morning, did you then observe the signs of disorder which lieutenant nettleson subsequently discovered and reported?" "i did, sir, as to the bed. the washbowl i did not notice." "that will do, for the present, mr. henkel. mr. farley, will you now state just what you saw, while watching this forenoon?" midshipmen farley told, simply, how he and page had commenced their watch. "in the first place, sir," declared farley, "as soon as mr. darrin and mr. dalzell had left their room, and the corridor was empty, mr. page and i, acting by permission and direction of this office, went at once to mr. darrin's room. we made an inspection. at that time there were no such signs of disorder as those which lieutenant nettleson subsequently found. then, sir, mr. page and i went back to our room. i held our door very slightly ajar, and stood in such a position that i could glance down the corridor and keep mr. darrin's room door constantly within my range of vision." "as a matter of vital fact, mr. farley," interrupted the commandant of midshipmen, "did you at any time relax such vigilance, even for a few seconds?" "not even for a few seconds, sir." "after the inspection that mr. page and yourself made, who was the first person that you saw enter mr. darrin's room?" "mr. henkel! "was he alone?" "yes, sir." "did you then immediately send mr page to the officer in charge?" "i did, sir." "and yourself?" "without allowing my glance to turn from mr. darrin's door, sir, i stepped out into the corridor, walked close to mr. darrin's room door, and then stood there until lieutenant nettleson and mr. hawkins arrived." "then, mr. farley, you are certain that there was no disorder in mr. darrin's room at the time when he and mr. dalzell left to recite in mathematics? "i am absolutely positive, sir." "and you are also certain that none but mr. henkel entered that room up to the time when the disorder was discovered by lieutenant nettleson?" "i am certain, sir." midshipman page was then questioned. he bore out the testimony just given by farley in every particular. the manner of the commandant of midshipmen was still gentle when he turned again to henkel. "mr. henkel, do you wish to modify your previous statements in any way?" "no, sir," replied henkel. "in all my answers i have told the whole and exact truth, as i know it. i am eager, sir, to answer any further questions that you may wish to put to me on the subject." "gentlemen, you may all withdraw, save lieutenant nettleson and mr. henkel," announced the commandant, after a few moments of seemingly mild thought. "mr. hawkins, of course you understand that what you know of this matter you know officially, and that you are not to mention or discuss it until such time as official action shall have been taken. as for you other midshipmen, i see no harm, gentlemen, in your discussing it among yourselves, but you will see to it that information does not, for the present, spread through the brigade. you may go, gentlemen." once outside farley and page walked so rapidly that dave and dan did not attempt to overtake them in the corridors. but they found farley and page waiting outside dave's room door. "may we come in?" asked farley. "if anyone on earth may," replied dave heartily, throwing open the door, then stepping back to allow the others to enter. "i'm afraid we've cooked a goose for some one," cried farley, with grim satisfaction. "great scott, yes," breathed dan dalzell, in devout thankfulness. "is it fair, farley, for me to ask you whether you suspected henkel before you caught him?" queried dave darrin. "yes; and the commandant knows that. henkel came here one night, weeks ago, and mysteriously tried to interest us in putting up a job to get you dropped from the navy rolls. when page and i really tumbled that an enemy working against you, it didn't take us two minutes to guess who that enemy was. then we started on the warpath." "i wonder," asked dave darrin huskily, "whether it is really necessary for me to assure you of the tremendous burden of obligation that you've put upon me?" "it isn't necessary, any way that you can look at the question," retorted farley promptly. "what we did for you, darrin, is no more than we'd stand ready to do for any man in the brigade who was being ground down and out by a mean trickster." "wouldn't i like to take peep in on henkel, now, while the commandant is grilling him in that gentle way the commandant has?" mocked midshipman page. "david, little giant, the matter is cleared and as good as squared," cried dalzell. "and now i know this is the first time in my life that i've ever been really and unutterably happy!" during the nest two days it was known through the brigade at large that midshipman henkel was in close arrest. the brigade did not at once learn the cause. yet, in such appearances as henkel was permitted to make, it was noted that he bore himself cheerfully and confidently. then, one day, just before the dinner formation, darrin was ordered to report at the commandant's office. "mr. darrin," announced commander jephson, when the midshipman had reported and saluted, "i am glad to be able to announce that we have been able to pile up so much evidence against mr henkel that young man finally confessed that it was he, and he alone, who created all the disorders with your equipment, and in your room for which so many demerits have been inflicted upon you. at the dinner formation. therefore, when the orders of the day are published by the brigade adjutant, you will again hear that your demerits, given for the offenses unjustly charged against you, have been remitted by order of the superintendent. you will also learn that you have been restored to the first conduct grade, with all the privileges belonging to the midshipmen of that grade." it was with a light heart that dave darrin left the commandant's office, though the young man had been expecting that very decision. yet, despite the fact that he knew it was coming, dave's heart thrilled with exultation and gratitude as he heard the order read out in the brigade adjutant's quick, monotonous tones. then, immediately following, came another order. midshipman henkel, for dishonorable conduct, was dropped from the rolls! "fours right, march!" by companies the brigade wheeled and marched into the mess hall--the air resounding with the quick, martial tread of eight hundred or more of the pick of young american manhood! as the command "march" was given one man fell out of the ranks. henkel, from the moment of the publications of the order, was no longer a midshipman! he had fallen deservedly, as one not fit to associate with gentlemen, or to figure among the future defenders of his country of honorable men. as the brigade marched indifferently off, and left him there, henkel gazed, for a few moments at the solid ranks of blue and gold, and a great sob welled up within him. in this supreme moment he realized all that he had lost--his place among honest men! then, crushing down any feeling of weakness, he turned on his heel, a sneer darkening his face. then, recalling himself, henkel sprang up the steps and hastened to the room that had been partly his. here he discarded his uniform substituting for it the citizen's clothes which had been brought to him from the midshipmen's store. his own few belongings that he cared about taking with him he packed hastily in a dress-suit case. yet the task required time. his roommate, brimmer, was back before henkel was ready to depart. "you'd better wait, now, until the coast is clear," whispered brimmer. "hosts of the fellows are hanging about outside." "they won't see me," jeered henkel harshly. "i'll wait until they're off at afternoon duties. but see here, brimmer, don't you dare forget that i might have said much about you, and that i didn't. don't dare forget that i leave to you the task of humbling that fellow, darrin. if you fail me, brimmer, it won't be too late for me to do some talking." "oh, i'll get darrin out of here," grimaced brimmer. "but i won't try to do it the way you did. you went in for enmity. i'm going to undo darrin by being his friend." "well, i'm through and ready to leave," muttered henkel. "but i'm not going until the coast is clear." seating himself by the window, he stared moodily out, thinking of the life which had strongly appealed to him, and from which he had exiled himself. while he was so occupied knock sounded at the door; then the cadet officer of the day stepped in: "i see you are ready to go, mr. henkel," announced the cadet officer. "the published order was to the effect that you leave the naval academy immediately. the officer in charge has sent me to see that you comply with the order at once." "oh, well," muttered henkel bitterly. he turned, holding out his hand to his late roommate. "goodby, brimmer; good luck!" "the same to you," replied brimmer, as their hands met. that was all that was said with the cadet officer of the day looking on, but both of the late roommates understood the compact of dishonor that lay between them concerning dave darrin's coming fate. with his derby hat pulled low over his eyes and gripping his suit case, henkel slunk through the corridors of bancroft hall. now he faced the hardest ordeal of all in going out through the entrance of the great white building, beyond which stood many groups of midshipmen. now these young men of the navy caught sight of henkel. no goodbyes were called out to him. instead, as his feet struck the flagging of the walk scores of lips were puckered. the midshipmen gave the departing one a whistled tune and furnished the drum part with their hands. that tune was-"the rogue's march." chapter xvi brimmer makes a new friend "darrin, i hope you don't hold me in any way responsible for that fellow henkel's actions. "why should i?" asked dave, turning and looking into the eyes of midshipman brimmer. "i know that, for a while, there was hard feeling between us," continued brimmer seriously. "it took me a long time to get it out of my stubborn head that you were the one responsible for having our crowd ragged by the watchman the night of the spread in annapolis. even after farley changed his mind it took me a long time to believe that he was right." "i forgot that whole matter long ago," replied darrin. "then will you accept my tardy apology, and let us be friends?" urged brimmer, holding out his hand. it was not dave darrin's way to hold a grudge forever. he extended his own hand to take brimmer's. "and i hope you'll let me know you better," continued brimmer, turning to dan dalzell. "most people who know me at all think they know me too well," laughed dan, but he held out his hand. perhaps, in other walks of life, the chums might have been more wary about accepting brimmer's suddenly proffered friendship, as they stood in the open air just after dinner one november day. the weather was so fine and mild that it seemed a shame to be cooped up between walls. back in the high school days, for instance, dave and dan would have been more cautious in accepting such an offer of friendship. but at the u.s. naval academy the atmosphere is wholly different. the midshipmen are ranked as gentlemen, and all are so taken on trust unless they betray themselves as dishonorable. ninety-nine per cent of the young men are earnest, honest and wholly aboveboard. after that, during the next two or three weeks, brimmer cultivated the acquaintance of darrin and dalzell at every possible opportunity. often, in the evening, he came hastening to their room for a short visit after the release bell had sounded at 9.30. when he called, brimmer always remained until the warning call just before taps. "it took you a long while to find out that dave darrin is white enough to shake hands with," laughed farley, one day. "as i remember, it took you quite a little while, also, to find it out," laughed brimmer. "i admit that i am slow at forming my friendships. but there's no mistake about darrin, when you get to know him. he's about the finest fellow in the class." "he certainly is," nodded farley heartily. being shorn of the long list of unjustly-given demerits that had stood against his name, darrin was now in the first conduct grade. so was dan. that gave to both considerable in the way of privileges. on saturdays and sundays, for instance, they were at liberty to accept invitations to call on or dine at the houses of officers and their families. this privilege, while pleasant to possess, amounted to little, for dave and dan had been too busy over their studies to have any opportunity to attract social notice. as to dancing, fourth class men do not, by tradition, attend any of the midshipmen's hops, which are reserved for upper class men. neither is a plebe midshipman expected to be seen escorting young ladies. in fact, the plebe has no social pleasures within the academy walls. outside, however, it is different. if the fourth class men are acquainted with young ladies in the town of annapolis they may visit them on saturday afternoons when so invited. here, again, dave and dan found no delight. for they became acquainted with none of the girls of annapolis. they could, however, on saturday afternoon secure permission to go into the town. any change outside of the academy walls now became welcome, though our young midshipmen had no other form of pleasure than merely to stroll through the streets of the town and occasionally regale themselves with a dish of ice-cream or a glass of soda at wiegard's. brimmer, one saturday afternoon, when strolling through the town, discovered a new little shop on main street. this was a little store that had just been fitted up. some fruit was displayed for sale, though the main business of the place appeared to be the dispensing of various temperance drinks. on the sign over the door the proprietor's first name was given as "tony." the second name was an unpronounceable greek one. being thirsty brimmer stepped inside. "are you tony?" he asked of the swarthy young man behind the counter. "yes, sare," grinned tony. "what you drink?" brimmer looked over the stock, selected a bottle of ginger ale and paid for it. "business good?" asked the midshipman. "no, sare; ver' bad," replied tony sadly. "oh, well, it will pick up by-and-by." "i hope so, sare. but when i come here i think maybe the midsheepmen come see me offen. you, sare, first midsheepman who came here." "you have a neat little place," continued brimmer. "and this ginger ale," holding up his glass, "is good. you'll have trade enough by-and-by." "you tell other midsheepmen they come here, sare?" asked tony hopefully. "why, yes; i think perhaps i can send you a bit of trade," replied brimmer. the young man's father was a politician, and a prosperous one. the son had learned the wisdom of making friends wherever he could, since there could be no telling when a friend anywhere might be useful. "you come with me, sare," urged tony, taking a gentle hold on brimmer's arm, and leading him to the rear of the store. tony threw open a door, revealing a rear room in which were three tables. "maybe midsheepmen like play cards, sometimes," suggested tony, with a grin. "great!" cried brimmer. "yes; sometimes the fellows do like to know a quiet little place where they can have a good game without a discipline officer butting in. good enough; i'll tell some of the fellows about this place; but you must keep it quiet, and not let anyone else into that room." "for midsheepmen on'y," promised tony solemnly. "good enough, then," smiled mr. brimmer. "i'll bring you a party as soon as possible." "then you make me your frien', sare," protested the greek. as brimmer went strolling along the street, after that, a plan began rapidly to hatch in his mind. he thought he saw how tony could made a most valuable ally. as luck would have it, brimmer was not long in meeting three midshipmen of rather wild tendencies. to them he proposed a quiet little game of cards. he led his classmates back to tony's. here they regaled themselves with ginger ale, then passed on into the rear room. for more than two hours the midshipmen remained here. occasionally they called for more of the temperance drinks. as they left brimmer passed tony a two-dollar bill, for this midshipman disregarded the regulations in that he frequently received money from home and was always well supplied. "thank you, sare," cried tony, bowing very low, indeed. the following saturday brimmer returned to the little shop with a small party of friends. late that afternoon tony was richer by a few dollars. "you one ver' good frien', sare," protested the delighted tony. "me? i your ver' good frien', too. i do anything for you, sare--try me!" "i'm getting tony about where i want him," thought mr. brimmer. "just a little more help to him, and then i'll spring my idea on him." thanksgiving had gone by, and now the christmas holidays were nearing. brimmer was playing his game slowly, and without the slightest risk to himself. tony must take all the risk. if the greek got into any trouble brimmer could deny all knowledge of the matter. one saturday afternoon, just before christmas midshipman brimmer came down main street, looked in and found the greek standing alone in his shop. "howdy, tony," was the midshipman's greeting, as he sauntered into the store. "hullo, my good frien', sare." "wish you a merry christmas, tony." "i don' know, sare, i don' know," replied the greek, shaking his head. "why, isn't business good now, tony?" "you do ver' much, my frien', to help make it better," replied tony, shaking his head, "but still i not make much money." "are you hard up at christmas, tony?" asked brimmer, with pretended sympathy. "oh, yes, sare; all time hard up." at that moment brimmer's gleaming eyes saw dave darrin and dan dalzell passing on the other side of the street. "quick, tony! get a look at my friends over there!" whispered brimmer. "take such a good look that you will know them again anywhere. now, it's the one on the inside, especially. note him sharply, tony." "i never mistake him again, sare, eff i see him," replied the greek gravely. "do you see many of these ten-dollar bills nowadays, tony?" questioned brimmer, carelessly displaying a banknote. the greek shook his head wistfully. "this is yours now, tony; and twice as much more afterwards, if you do what i want of you. it's a good joke that i want to play on a midshipman down at the academy." "a joke, eh?" repeated the greek. "then, sare, my frien', it can't be anything so ver' bad, eef it only a joke." "oh, it isn't anything bad," brimmer lied cheerfully. "but that fellow played a warm one on me, and i want to pay him back." "i understand, sare, my ver' good frien'." inside of five minutes tony understood very much better. still, the greek saw no real harm in what he now engaged himself to do. that night tony slept with brimmer's ten-dollar note under his pillow. dave darrin slept as soundly as ever, unconscious of harm hanging over his head. midshipman brimmer did much gleeful chuckling after taps, as he lay on the bed in the room that henkel had once shared with him. "now, let's see anyone get a chance to bring this job back to me!" laughed brimmer. "and goodby, darrin! the naval academy won't know you much longer!" chapter xvii tony baits the hook up to this time darrin had dropped in at tony's but once, and dan not at all. the saturday after christmas was an anxious one for nearly all of the midshipmen. only a few availed themselves of any privilege of going into annapolis this saturday afternoon. most of the young men remained in their rooms at bancroft hall, anxiously going over the work in which they were soon to take their semi-annual examinations. especially was this true of the fourth class men in the "wooden" or lowest sections. most of these men knew that, if they succeeded in staying on at all, it would be by a very small margin indeed. even the men in the "savvy sections," with the highest marks of their class, were eager to come out as well as possible in the dreaded semi-ans. dave and dan both had secured permission to go into annapolis. "we'll want to clear out the cobwebs by a brisk walk, anyway," declared darrin. they did not intend to go townward, however, until rather late in the afternoon. dan, when he could stand the grind no longer picked up his cap. dave wanted to put in least fifteen minutes more over his book. "i've got to get out in the air," dalzell muttered. "going to town?" dave asked. "yes. coming along?" "i've got a little more in logarithms to clean up," murmured darrin, looking wistfully at two pages in one of his text-books on mathematics. "will it do as well, danny boy, if i follow in fifteen or twenty minutes?" "yes; you'll probably find me on main street, though you can look in at wiegard's on the way." wiegard's is the famous confectionery shop where cadets go for candy, for ices or soda fountain drinks. if upper class men and young ladies are plentiful in wiegard's, however, prudent fourth class men keep right on without stopping. dan left bancroft hall quite certain that his chum would not be along for at least an hour. at the gate dan made his report of liberty, then kept on up maryland avenue. as he turned into state circle he slowed up a trifle, glancing in through the door at wiegard's. "too many upper class men in there for me," decided dan, so turning he made his was way through the state capitol grounds, and on into main street. here he strolled more slowly, passing, here and there, a member of his class, though none with whom he was particularly intimate. "i'm thirsty," decided dalzell. "i don't believe i want any of the hot drinks. there's tony's. i'll drop in and get a bottle of soda lemonade." tony saw the fourth classman coming, and a peculiar smile crossed his lips. on the occasion on which brimmer had pointed out the chums to the greek the latter had understood that it was dan who was to be the principal victim. "good afternoon, tony!" was dan's greeting, as he stepped into the shop. "merry christmas." "thank you, sare, good frien'," was tony's reply. then the greek turned briefly, to hide a grin. "crowd seems to have left you, tony," said dan sympathetically. "save their money to buy present for girls," guessed the greek. "tony, have you a small bottle of lemon soda that's good and cold?" "oh, yes, sare." "then i want it." tony fumbled among bottles clinking in ice under the counter. at last he found what he wanted and held the bottle up to the capping machine. then the greek did something unusual. instead of emptying the bottle into a glass on the counter he performed that service underneath the counter. next he held the glass up full of bright, cold liquid filled with bubble and sparkle. "it makes me thirstier to look at this," muttered dan, picking up the glass. "i'll get it down as soon as i can." he sipped the last out of the glass, put do a coin to pay for it, and stood, for a moment, chatting with tony. "excuse me, sare," broke in the greek, suddenly. "i hear ma wife call me." opening a door behind him tony stepped into a hallway. the short december afternoon was drawing to a close. standing in the shop dan saw that the light in the street was growing less. "i'll walk a little further down the street," thought dan. "then i'll turn back, and keep on toward state circle, and look for dave." as he took the first step away from the store dalzell noticed a slight feeling of dizziness. after a moment this passed off, but soon it came on again, heavier than before. "what ails me?" wondered the astonished midshipman. "it can't be that i'm turning sick, for i've been feeling fine all along." he tried the effect of will power, holding himself as erect as he could and trying to walk slowly in a straight line. then, though he did not realize it, three or four passers-by turned to look at the unsteady young man in a midshipman's uniform. two men passing in an auto runabout glanced quickly at dan. "look at that fool midshipman, throwing away a great future for a few glasses of strong drink," he remarked to his companion. then the auto sped on. as for dan dalzell, he no longer understood clearly what was happening. at this lower end of main street, on which he was now moving, there were not many people astir. one there was behind him, however--tony, the greek, following stealthily on his trail. at last, as dalzell reached the head of a short, narrow alleyway tony caught up with him in the darkness that had now fallen. a quick shove tony gave the midshipman, and dan, helpless, staggered into the alleyway, tripped and fell. tony passed on as though he had merely accidentally jostled another. then, in an instant he wheeled, went back the head of the alley and glanced in. dan dalzell was lying still, in a complete stupor. with a chuckle the greek drew a small bottle from one of his pockets, taking out the stopper and throwing it away. then he began sprinkling the contents on dan's uniform coat with energy. at that instant there was a quick step outside. then dave darrin, tall, handsome, and even distinguished-looking in the uniform that he wore so well, bounded in, gripping the greek's right arm in a tight grasp. "you rascal!" vibrated dave's angry voice. "what are you doing here?" it being darker in the alleyway than it was outside, tony did not recognize his captor. dave towered so in his wrath that the greek took him to be an officer of the navy. "speak up, before i shake the truth out of you!" warned darrin. "do you understand that this is a crime, you knave, and that i can place you under arrest and have you sent to the penitentiary for years?" tony was now sure that he was in the clutch of a naval officer. moreover, darrin's grip was one that spoke of more muscular strength held in reserve. "let me go, sare!" begged the greek, squirming. "this ees all one joke. i do ze man no harm." for answer, dave used his left hand to snatch away the bottle that tony still held. "alcohol!" detected dave, and hurled the bottle to the other end of the alleyway. "and you have been sprinkling it on this midshipman's uniform? you are the fellow who runs the temperance drinks place? a nice business for you to be in--drugging midshipmen and trying to ruin them! to prison you go, unless you limber up your tongue. who put you up to this miserable business? talk quickly--or off to a cell you go!" this was pure bluff, as dave, being under twenty-one, had no right to make an arrest, even as a citizen. but he saw that he had the greek scared, and he resolved to push his advantage to the limit. "talk this instant, or to the police station you go!" warned dave. "then it will be years before you are a free man again." "mercy, captain!" howled the frightened greek. "then out with the whole truth like lightning!" ordered dave darrin. he accompanied his order with a shaking that made the greek's teeth rattle. "stop, sare, stop! i tell you!" whined tony. "go ahead, then, you brute." "you know midsheepman brimmer?" "i know him," repeated dave. "he tell me, sare, about one joke. he geev me bottle of stuff, and he tell me when this midsheepman, or his friend, come in my place i am to put half of stuff in the bottle in one glass of what the midsheepman order. then i am to follow the midsheepman out, and watch him until he fall. i am also to have bottle of alcohol with me and sprinkle some on the midsheepman when he fall and lie still. then i am to go away and let the midsheepman be found. it is to be one grand joke on the midsheepman." "give me what is left of the bottle of stuff that midshipman brimmer gave you to put in the drink," commanded dave sternly. tony's first impulse was to deny that he had the vial with him. but darrin's grip on the fellow's arm tightened so alarmingly that the greek thrust his left hand down into a trousers pocket, then produced the vial, which darrin pocketed. "so this is brimmer's work--and brimmer was at one time henkel's roommate and crony!" flashed swiftly through darrin's mind. "oh, the scoundrel!" "some one ees coming, sare," warned tony. "let me go, sare." "stay where you are, and don't dare make a move to get away," warned darrin. "it would do you no good, anyway. i know where to find you." then darrin peeped cautiously out at the head of the alley. some one was coming, and that some one wore the naval uniform. dave's heart began to beat faster. then the wearer the uniform passed the light from a store window, and his face was briefly revealed. darrin's heart, for a few seconds, seemed almost to stop beating. for it was brimmer himself! further up in the town that midshipman had heard a fleeting word, uttered by some one, about a staggering midshipman having been seen going down main street. "a dollar to a doughnut it's darrin himself! flashed exultantly through brimmer's mind. he hurried on, though careful to avoid the appearance of haste. "i wish henkel were here at this moment!" thought brimmer. "oh, it will be great to see that sneak, darrin--" just at that moment brimmer stopped short, with something like a gasp. for he did see darrin, standing before him, towering in his wrath. chapter xviii in the days of "old two-five" before brimmer could utter a word darrin pounced upon him, seizing him by the collar and fairly dragging him into the alleyway. then, still gripping his astounded, dismayed foe, darrin demanded: "tony, is this the fellow who paid you to drug my friend? "the treacherous greek has betrayed me!" was the thought that flashed instantly through brimmer's startled mind. "let go of my collar, darrin!" he commanded loudly. "if this lying greek has dared to say that i--" "shut up!" ordered dave tersely. ever since coming to annapolis he had tried to keep his temper in the background. but now, quivering in his righteous wrath, darrin was once more the hot-headed, impulsive, generous dave of old--a doer of deeds, and a thrasher of scoundrels. "no, no, no!" protested tony, shrilly and cunningly. "mr. brimmer, he no tell me--he no hire me--" "be silent, fellow!" commanded dave darrin hotly. "you've told the truth once. don't spoil it with a dozen lies! brimmer, you dastard, you disgrace to the noble old uniform--" by a quick, forceful twist brimmer had freed himself from dave's frantic clutch. it availed the plotter but little, however. quick as a flash dave let drive with his right fist, landing a blow on the chest that sent mr. brimmer flat to the pavement of the alley. "you coward! you--" screamed brimmer, as he rose. but no sooner was he on his feet than dave planted a terrific blow over his left eye. down went brimmer again, his eyes closed "until further notice." "don't try to get up!" warned darrin, crouching over his enemy. "if you make a move upward, until i'm through talking, i'll kick you clean over the town of annapolis and far out into chesapeake bay. brimmer, if you send me a challenge when we get back to bancroft hall, i won't pay any attention to it until after the class has passed on the merits of the case. if you want to fight here and now i'll let you up and we'll settle it right off. but no formal fight, under decent auspices. you hear me? you understand?" brimmer made no reply. "all right, then," nodded dave. "i understand that you don't want to fight here. don't try to provoke me into a formal fight, at the naval academy, unless you are prepared to defend your side before a class committee. now get up and take yourself away--you infamous hound!" tony, in the meantime, had swiftly vanished. the greek's change of front, in denying his charge against brimmer, had been prompted by craft. "meester brimmer, he pay me, now, not twenty dollars, but all the money he have, and all he can get," chuckled the rascally greek. "otherwise, he be afraid i tell too much, and he get the double-queeck out of the naval acadeemy!" brimmer, boiling with helpless rage, got up and made off as quickly as he could. he would have fought, on the spot, but knew that with one eye closed, and giving him great pain, he would be but a football for the strenuous darrin. and now dave bent over his chum, who, still unconscious, was breathing heavily. "he's in no immediate danger," breathed darrin, in great relief. then, hearing wheels, he stepped to the end of the alleyway. as if in answer to his prayer the vehicle turned ont to be a cab, and without a fare. "driver, i need you here!" called dave, and the cab rolled in at the curb. "follow me," directed darrin, leading the way up the alley catching sight of the prostrate midshipman the driver grinned. "no, he's not intoxicated!" flashed out darrin half angrily. "this is all a trick. help me lift him into your cab. then drive us to the best physician in the town." dan was propped in place on the back seat, darrin beside him. "give me the card of your stable, driver," dave requested. "i haven't money enough to pay you, but i'll write and have my father send you the amount of your bill." "that'll be all right, sir," nodded the driver who knew the ways of midshipmen, and who also knew that such a "risk" was a safe one. a few minutes later the cab stopped before the residence of dr. stewart. "see if the doctor is in," directed darrin. the physician was at home, and not engaged. so dave and the driver carried dan into the medical man's office. "too bad!" murmured the physician. "intoxicated, eh? "no, sir," responded dave quietly, "and that's one of the things i wish you to note positively, so that you can be prepared to certify if necessary. this is the stuff, i believe, with which my friend was drugged." dave passed over the vial tony had handed him. dr. stewart smelled the contents, then touched the bottle lightly to his tongue. next he stepped over to a cabinet, poured a small quantity of the liquid into a test tube and did some hurried experimenting. "the regulation knockout drops," he smiled grimly. "now, help me to take off your friend's overcoat. whew! there is the smell of alcohol here! "only on the overcoat, i guess, doctor," suggested dave. "you don't notice any on my friend's breath, do you? "no," replied the doctor. "there has been a plot on foot to make it appear that my friend had been indulging in liquor. doctor, i hope you can prove positively that such was not the case." "i shall have to pump the young man's stomach out. that is the first step in getting him back to consciousness. that will also show convincingly whether he has been using alcoholic drinks." within three minutes dr. stewart was positive that dan had not been using strong drink. soon after dan regained consciousness. dr. stewart quickly gave him something to restore his faculties. catching sight of the office clock dave broke in: "doctor, if it is barely possible, we must be back for supper formation. can you fix it?" "i think so," nodded the physician. "you can help. turn on that electric fan and place your friend's uniform overcoat where the fan will play upon it. that will drive away most of the smell of alcohol." "alcohol?" mumbled dan wonderingly. "don't try to think, now, mr. dalzell," ordered the physician. "mr. darrin will explain to you later." dan lay on the lounge, the physician keeping a finger on his pulse. presently the man of medicine gave dan another drink of restorative. "now, get up and walk to the back of the room with me," commanded the physician. "here, i'll throw this window up. now, take in as deep breaths as you can." dave, in the meantime, was standing near fan attending to driving the fumes from his friend's coat. a few minutes later dr. stewart gave dalzell a third draught. dan was now recovering steadily from his mental numbness. "you can take your friend away safely, now," declared dr. stewart, at last. "he can thank a strong constitution for recovering so quickly under treatment." "shall i take him near the gate in a cab, or walk him there?" asked darrin. "it will bring about his recovery more completely if he walks." "pardon me for a moment, then, and i'll go outside and release the driver." then, returning, darrin added: "doctor, if you'll hand me your bill, mr. dalzell will see that his father remits to you." dr. stewart nodded, wrote the bill, and passed it over. it was not by any means the first time that the physician had done business on that basis. "a fairly brisk walk, gentlemen, will be best," said the doctor, at the street door. "good evening--and good luck." "another naval mystery, i suppose," smiled the physician, as he turned back to his office. "but i shall never hear from it again, except when the remittance arrives from the young man's father." arriving at the maryland avenue gate of the academy grounds dave turned in report for both of them. then the chums continued across to bancroft hall. midshipman brimmer was reported absent, but accounted for, at that supper formation. at that moment brimmer was undergoing a naval surgeon's treatment for his eye. brimmer's brief explanation to the surgeon was that he had run his face against something hard in a dark alleyway while in town. the surgeon noted down the explanation, smiling grimly. that being saturday evening, with release from studies, dave slipped down to the door of farley and page, and invited them to his quarters. there sat dan. both farley and page listened almost in stupefaction. they had always rather liked brimmer. yet they were convinced that darrin spoke the truth. "now, help me with your advice," begged dave. "should i make an official report of this whole matter? "not until you have stronger evidence against brimmer," suggested farley. "would it do any good to ask for a class committee, and to bring brimmer before it?" "not until you have a better case to offer," replied page. "then what should i do?" "cut brimmer, of course," said farley thoughtfully. "and don't let him guess that you're going to let up at any point of the investigation into the matter." "we won't let up, either," blazed dave, "if we can think of any way to probe the facts. "i don't believe it will do much good to fool with tony, the greek," suggested midshipman page. "brimmer has more money than any of us, and he'll pay blackmail to keep tony's tongue quiet." it was tuesday when midshipman brimmer returned to formations. immediately after breakfast dave darrin went up to him. "mr. brimmer, i want a word with you." "i don't want any words with you, at any time, mr. darrin," brimmer retorted bitterly. "you won't have any that are not necessary," retorted dave. "yet i think it will be to your advantage to step aside and hear what i have to say now." "make it very short, then." "mr. brimmer," continued darrin, when they were by themselves, "all i have to say is to confirm the language that i used to you the other evening. further, i will say that you are quite at liberty to report me for having assaulted you. or, you may ask for a class committee to investigate this affair between us. the last that i have to say is that i have the vial of knockout stuff that you gave tony to serve to dalzell and myself, and i have also expert testimony as to the nature of the stuff. nor do i mind admitting to you that dalzell and i are going to go as far as we can in getting the evidence that; will warrant our making an official report your scoundrelly conduct. if possible we shall bring about your dismissal from the naval academy." brimmer's eyes flashed. yet in the next minute the yellow streak in him showed. his lip quivered, and he begged, brokenly: "darrin, show a little mercy. would you care to be kicked out of the academy?" "not any more than dalzell would have liked it," replied dave dryly. "then you must realize that it would spoil my life, too." "mr. brimmer," retorted darrin sternly, "it is no longer a question of what your feelings in the matter may be. the plain fact is that you are not a gentlemen--not honorable. you are not fit to be the comrade of gentlemen. you are a profanation of the uniform of the united states. it is for the good of the service, far more than for any personal enmity, that several of us have resolved to keep on the hunt for evidence until we get a complete enough lot to drive you away from annapolis." finding that coaxing was of no avail brimmer became surly. at the first opportunity for liberty to go into town dave, dan and farley went abruptly to tony, the greek, questioning him insistently. tony, however, would not say a word beyond stolidly denying that he had had any part in the plot, and that he had ever said so. tony had abundant reasons for his silence. he had promptly demanded two hundred dollars from brimmer, and the latter had sent post haste to his father for the money, explaining only that he needed it to "buy his way out of a scrape." the money now rested in tony's pocket. dave, dan, farley and page tried hard, however, in other directions, to secure the need evidence. there was no druggists' label on the vial, so these four midshipmen visited all the druggists in annapolis, seeking light on the matter. the druggists, however, denied any knowledge of the vial or of its contents. now, the friends appeared to be up against a dead wall of difficulty. they did not cease their efforts, however, and held many conferences behind closed doors. brimmer kept track of their activities as best he could. he became moody, and slackened in his studies. after that the semi-annual examinations came on. dave passed better than he had hoped, making two-nine as his standing. dalzell was forced to be content with two-seven, but as two-five was a high enough mark for passing dan was delighted. farley and page got through safely, and that was all. fifty-nine of the men of the fourth class were dropped for failing to keep up to the two-five standard. and one of these was midshipman brimmer. he and the other unlucky ones left for their homes as soon as the results had been announced. brimmer would have passed, in all probability, had he not been unstrung by the knowledge that four of his comrades were working to secure the evidence which should warrant his expulsion from the naval academy. oppressed by dread, this young scoundrel was not capable of doing his best work at the semi-annuals. so brimmer left as henkel had done. the only difference was that brimmer did not have to slink away to the tune of "the rogue's march." "you're past the worst of it, now, mister," murmured youngster trotter, in passing dave. "you'll win through hereafter." but dave darrin could hardly help feeling that his greatest thankfulness was over the fact that the poisonous pair, henkel and brimmer, were both out of the navy for good and all. chapter xix the collision on the chesapeake the weeks slipped by quickly now. athletics cannot occupy as prominent a place at annapolis as at the universities and colleges, for the midshipmen must, above all, be sure that they stand high enough in their academic work. dave and dan were both invited out for baseball try-out, but both asked to be excused. dan, by himself, would have gone in for the navy nine, and doubtless would have made it. it was darrin, the cautious, who dissuaded dalzell. "better shy away from athletics, danny boy, until you've made your academic footing secure," was dave's advice. "you didn't talk that way in the high school," argued dan. "no; there the athletics were more necessary, if we were to keep in condition. here athletics may be regarded as the luxury, which we are not yet entitled. here, with the gym work, the fencing, the drills under arms and the boat drills, we're kept in the pink of physical condition without need for special training." "next year, when we feel absolutely solid in our marks, we can go in for athletics, if we wish, dan." so dalzell gave in. he was beginning to realize that his chum had a "long" head and that his advice was always good. with the coming of spring the boat drills were resumed in earnest. dave, standing well in "grease," now, became captain of one of the boat crews, for he had developed unusual skill in boat handling. one bright afternoon in the latter part of april, while half of the brigade marched off to instruction on shore, the other half marched down to the docks beyond the seamanship building. here the members of the third class embarked in the steam launches each craft representing a war vessel--for fleet drill. the fourth class men embarked, by crews, in the sailboats. as each captain gave the order to shove clear of the dock the mainsail was hoisted. then each crew captain kept one eye on the watch for the signals of the instructor, who was aboard a boat designated as the flagship. the sail was downstream. beyond annapolis some pretty manoeuvering work was done. while this drill was proceeding, however, the wind died out considerably. then, light as the breeze was, the youthful crew captains were forced to beat back against almost a head wind. there being no signs of squalls or puffs, the crew captains did not seem to need to exercise much caution. the members of the crews stood indolently at their stations. yet dave was as alert as ever. he stood close to the midshipman tillerman, looking constantly for signals from the flagship, and at the same time watchful for any wind signs. an hour or more they had proceeded thus. some of dave's boat crew, who had been making a lark of their nearly becalmed condition now began to demur over the prospect of getting back late for supper. "the steam-launch fleet might show up and give us a tow," grumbled farley. dave smiled and said nothing. he was as eager as any midshipman in the boat to have his supper on time, but he felt that the crew captain must appear above any sign of complaint untoward fate. for a moment or so darrin turned to look aft at the weather. "motor boat 'john duncan' on the port bow, two points off and bearing this way, sir," reported the bow watch. darrin turned quickly, bending to glance under the boom, for the mainsail was in his way. what he saw made him dart quickly forward, to take up his stand by the mast. "pass me the megaphone, mr. dalzell," he requested. with this mouth-piece in hand, dave watched the nearing craft. the "duncan" was a semi-speed boat, some forty-five feet over all, without cabin, and carrying only a sprayhood forward to protect its engine. two men appeared in the boat--mr salisbury, the owner, and his engineer. the latter was steering at this time. chug-chug-chug! came the fast craft. dave waited, well knowing that his hail could not carry to either engineer or owner over the noise that the "duncan's" engine was making. farley stood close to dave watching. the tillerman also had his eye on the approaching craft. the other midshipmen, telling stories or staring out over the water, paid little heed. there could be no danger from the motor boat. both the owner and engineer were well known, in these waters, as capable boat handlers and as men of judgment. darrin, himself, did not believe that there was any danger. "throw her head a point and a half off to the starboard," called dave darrin evenly. "aye, aye, sir," responded the midshipman tillerman, and the sailboat responded slowly under the slight headway. "great scott, don't those fellows know that a sailboat has the right of way over a power craft?" demanded darrin suddenly. "perhaps they're going to see how close they can come to us without hitting us," remarked farley. dave raised the megaphone to his lips, waiting until he judged that there was a chance of his hail being heard. "duncan, 'ahoy!" bellowed darrin. "go to port of us!" still the motor boat came onward, at a speed something better than fourteen miles. "hard-a-starboard!" darrin roared back to his own tillerman. then he repeated his hail. he was almost frenzied now; for the motor boat had not yet changed its course. suddenly, when the two craft were almost together, the engineer, after throwing over his wheel, held up one hand. before dave could guess what the gesture meant, the "duncan" loomed up on the sail-boat's port bow, coming on at unabated speed. there was an instant scampering of midshipmen for safety. then bump! the motor boat's bow crashed into the sailboat, cutting a great gap in her. the force of the shock threw most of the midshipmen into the water. the rest jumped. now, the "duncan" responded to her engine by backing off. but the motor boat, too, had received her deathblow. ere she had backed off a hundred and fifty feet she began to fill rapidly. owner and engineer had only time to adjust life-preservers and leap overboard. then the "duncan" went down. at the moment of collision there was a crash of spars and a snapping of cordage. the sailing craft's mast had gone by the board, though not much before the sailboat itself had filled. dave himself was pitched headlong. he sank below the water, but had no fear for himself, for he was wholly at home in the water. yet, as he found the water closing over him, dave darrin felt a great thrill of terror for others run through him. "my boat crew is the poorest in the class in swimming!" he gasped, with a throb of agony. "not more than half of them know how to take care of themselves! and i, as captain, am responsible for their safety!" chapter xx in the line of duty as his head shot above the water a dave barely paused to expel the water from his mouth. "boat's crew close together, to stand by the poor swimmers!" he yelled hoarsely. the water being barely ruffled, darrin was able to count eight heads besides his own. that meant that five men had still failed to come up. midshipman driscoll, an instant later, shot up beside dave. "help!" sputtered driscoll. "float on my arm, sir," ordered dave, swimming with lusty strokes until he had thrust his left arm under driscoll's chest. then the young crew captain shouted: "who can get here first to support mr. driscoll." "here!" called another midshipman, overtaking the pair with lusty strokes. "keep mr. driscoll up," called dave, as he swam away. "i've got to count heads fast." another midshipman came above water, and dan dalzell was at him, like a flash, supporting the new arrival, who was one of the poor swimmers. that left three men to be accounted for. further down the stream still another head appeared. only for a moment or two, this midshipman succeeded in keeping his head above water. "i'll get that man," cried farley, as he and another midshipman started with powerful strokes after the man who was going down for the second time. "there's a seat floating!" shouted dalzell. darrin plunged forward for it, until he saw one of his crew nearing it ahead of him. "hold that as a life-buoy!" called dave. hardly had he given this order when another midshipman made himself heard, as he trod water. the board was pushed toward him, while dave made a rapid count. "all up but mr. page;" muttered dave, but even that thought made him sick at heart. only a few moments had passed, but that was time enough for any man to come to the surface if his buoyancy remained. darrin had paid no heed to mr. salisbury or the latter's engineer, for he had seen them jumping for their life-preservers. in the meantime the other boats of the sailing fleet were making for the scene of the disaster. yet, with the light breeze, that was no easy thing to do. it would take some time yet to bring the nearest of the sailing fleet to the scene. signals had been sprung to the steam-launch fleet, but the launches were far down the bay, and many minutes must pass before relief could be looked for from that quarter. two or three of the sailboats would, in fact, be at hand first. though there were some excellent swimmer among the wrecked midshipmen, the best of these were already standing by midshipmen who did not swim well. dave darrin was the only one free to go to page's assistance should he show up. "every man keep his eyes peeled for mr. page!" shouted dave. "we simply can't stand the loss of any member of the crew!" "there's a hat!" cried dan, a few moments later. "can you make it out, sir." dalzell was pointing further down the bay. "a cap, yes," called dave, striking out lustily for the spot. "but i don't see any head there. watch, all of you, and give me a hail if you see mr. page's head show up anywhere." midshipman farley was in agony over the thought of the loss of his roommate. yet farley was at this time engaged in standing by a less-skilled swimmer. "that looks like a face, fifteen yards west from the cap!" shouted one of the crew. dave darrin made the greatest spring, he could up out of the water. it gave him a chance for a better view. "i see the face!" he roared back. "look after yourselves. i'll get in close to mr. page." dave swam as he had never done before, taking swift yet long, powerful strokes. he reached the spot, only to see what he had taken for a face sink slowly below the surface. "that must be the second time going down!" throbbed darrin, with a feeling of horror. more powerfully than ever he surged forward. he was too late to catch another glimpse of the white face. but he had noted the point at which it had sunk. taking a breath, darrin took a dive downward, duck fashion. holding his breath, he went below, his eyes wide open, seeking as best he could. down where the light of day reached him poorly darrin caught sight of something floating slowly past. it might have been a fish, for all the sense of shape that reached dave. with an inward prayer the young crew captain surged downward and forward. he grappled with--something--then fought his way the surface, holding that something tightly. as they shot above the water darrin's blood danced for joy. it was page--"good old page!"--whom he had brought to the top. "got him safe?" bellowed farley, over the water. dave was too winded to answer. he thrust one hand above his head, waving it joyfully. then he let the hand fall that he might better attend to his work. for a few moments they floated there. the nearest of the sailing cutters was now nearing the victims of the wreck. the boat, however, would reach darrin last of all. while darrin watched farley and three others clambering aboard the rescuing boat, the young crew captain trod water, supporting page at the same time. then page opened his eyes, as though returning from a faint, rather than reviving from a partial drowning. "hold me tight!" gasped page, almost in a whisper. "i'm a fearfully poor swimmer." "i know," nodded dave, "but i've got you, and i never let go of a good thing." darrin's heart throbbed gratefully. all of the boat crew were accounted for; not a man of his command lost. further off he could see mr. salisbury and the engineer of the foundered power boat, each held up by a life-preserve. but, though all of the wrecked middies were afloat, they were as yet by no means safe. some were so helpless that every man who could keep himself afloat and help another was thus engaged. dave, after his strong exertions, found himself rapidly "playing out." if help did not soon reach him he felt that he would be exhausted. "can't you help yourself a little more, mr. page?" he asked. unnoticed by darrin, midshipman page had been slowly relapsing into unconsciousness. in the collision page had been hit glancingly on the head by the gaff of the falling mainsail. page heard dave's query with a muddled mind. all he grasped was that darrin was doubtful of his ability to keep them both up. in an agony of unreasoning, stupefied dread, midshipman page swiftly wound both arms around dave darrin. "here!" commanded the young captain the crew. "don't do that!" but page either did not hear or did not heed. his arms clung more desperately around dave, binding one of the latter's arms to his body. "he'll drown both of us!" was the thought that flashed instantly through midshipman darrin's mind. there was no time to think of more. before he realized that the thing was happening darrin felt the waters close over his head. both midshipmen were going down. while darrin's mind was fully alive to the situation page, a gallant fellow at heart, and thoroughly brave, was now unwittingly carrying his comrade down with him to death. nor, in the first moments, did any of the other midshipmen note the tragic happening. it was not long, however, before dan dalzell's agonized query shot over the waters: "where's grand old darrin?" dan groaned with his helplessness. for dan was, at that instant, holding up one of the poor swimmers, to leave whom would be to abandon him to death. chapter xxi official and other report when under the water, and in imminent danger of drowning, seconds count as hours. if they perished, now, page would be spared the deep horror of it all, for his mind was already clouded again through his recent injuries. he retained only consciousness enough to fight like a dying wild beast. with one of darrin's arms pinioned page seemed fighting to get the other in an equal state of helplessness. dave fought to free himself. yet he did not struggle too hard. "if i free myself abruptly, i may lose page!" was the thought that rushed through his brain. to free himself of his comrade in order to get to the surface alone and safe was furthest from the young midshipman's mind. "it's a tough fix, but i'm going to get page to the surface, or stay down here with him!" throbbed dave. they were near enough to the surface to enable darrin to see his comrade, though not with much clearness. down under the water all forms looked indistinct. while darrin struggled cautiously his mind worked fast. it would have been easy enough to choke page into insensibility, but that would cause the unreasoning midshipman to open his mouth, insuring his drowning. suddenly dave saw his chance! he made up his mind at once. swiftly moving his free hand back, he struck page on the forehead with his clenched fist. at that moment, page began to fight harder to keep them both down. but darrin struck him again on the head with his fist. the injured midshipman now collapsed, senseless. cautiously though swiftly dave freed himself, got a left hand grip on the collar of page's blouse, and with his right hand struck out for the surface. his feet aided. with joy dave saw the water overhead growing lighter and lighter. then his face shot up into the life-giving air. darrin took in a great gulp of it, then turned to make sure that the unconscious page's mouth was above water. close at hand one of the sailboats of the fleet was bearing down upon them. "there are mr. darrin and mr. page!" shouted a voice. splash! splash! two classmates were over in the water, swimming superbly toward the exhausted dave. "keep up a moment or two longer, mr. darrin!" hailed the voice of midshipman hallam encouragingly. all these young midshipmen were on duty. therefore, throughout the mishap and its attendant circumstances the ceremonious use of "mr." had been followed. "won't i keep up, though!" thrilled dave, as he heard the cheering hail. all but forgetting himself, dave turned to make sure that page's mouth was kept above water. "let me have mr. page!" called out midshipman botkin, ranging up alongside and taking charge of darrin's burden. "how are you, mr. darrin? enjoy a little help?" queried midshipman hallam, throwing out a supporting arm to his classmate. "i'm nearly all in," confessed dave, with a ghastly smile. "but not all in? good enough! get hold of my arm, and don't try to do much more than float. they're gathering the men in fast, now." two sailboats were now engaged in the work of rescue, and a third was heading for mr. salisbury and his engineer. in almost no time, it seemed, dave and page, and their supporters, were hauled into one of the boats. "give mr. page first aid for the injured--quick!" urged dave, almost in a whisper. "he has gone close to being drowned." hardly had he spoken the words when darrin's own eyes closed. the strain had been too much for him. when the steam launches came up, dave and page, as well as the other drenched fourth class men, were transferred, and fast time was made back to the dock. mr. salisbury and his engineer were also taken back by steam power. the owner of the launch had a most satisfactory explanation to offer. he and his engineer had both believed that they had abundant room in which to clear the sailboat. when, at last, they had tried their helm, it was found that the steering gear had broken. there was no way in which to change the course of the motor boat in time. the reversing gear was promptly used, but it was impossible to stop headway and dart back before the collision came. it was accident, and that was all there was to it. yet, had it not been for darrin's prompt judgment, and the cool conduct of some of the members of his crew, there might easily have been some fatalities to report among the midshipmen. as it was, nothing but darrin's splendid conduct had saved midshipman page from speedy death by drowning. dave opened his eyes on his way back to annapolis. page, however though he was "pumped dry" of the water that he had involuntarily swallowed, remained in a stupefied condition all the way back. an ambulance had been signaled for, and was waiting at the dock. "i don't want to go to hospital, sir," dave objected weakly. "you'll come with me, mr. darrin," responded the naval surgeon, without argument. "of course we can discharge you at any time we find you strong enough for duty." so dave was taken to hospital, stripped, rubbed down, put to bed and dosed with hot drinks. midshipman page was put on the cot next to dave's. now the surgeons discovered the injury that had been done page's head by the falling gaff. some four hours later commander jephson, commandant of midshipmen, came through the hospital, accompanied by lieutenant edgecombe, who had been the sailing instructor of the afternoon. "good evening, mr. darrin," was the commandant's very cordial greeting. "good evening, sir." "good evening, mr. darrin," came from lieutenant edgecombe, which greeting dave also acknowledged. "the surgeon says, mr. darrin, that you a fit to do some talking," continued the commandant. "i am certain of that, sir," smiled darrin. "in fact, my only trouble is that the surgeon insists on my staying here tonight." "then it is an official order, and can't be dodged," laughed the commandant pleasantly. "but, mr. darrin, you were crew captain this afternoon. lieutenant edgecombe wishes to secure your official report of the accident. he will reduce it to writing, read it over to you, a then you will sign it." "very good, sir," responded dave briefly. the navy lieutenant's questions drew out only the simplest account of the affair. of all the heavy, swift work he had done for the safety of his crew after the foundering dave gave only the barest sketch. lieutenant edgecombe then wrote down a brief, dry recital of fact, read it over, and darrin signed it. during this time the commandant of midshipmen had sat by, a quiet listener. "mr. darrin," said commander jephson, at last, "i am obliged to say that, in some respects, your report does not agree with that of members of your crew." "i have made a truthful statement, sir, just as i recall the incidents of the affair," replied dave, flushing to the temples. "don't jump too speedily at false conclusions, mr. darrin," cautioned the commandant. "my remark is founded on the statement, made by other midshipmen of your crew, that you displayed the utmost judgment and coolness, with great bravery added. that you clung to mr. page to the last, and even went below with him at the almost certain risk of being drowned yourself." "you didn't expect me, sir, to include any praise of myself, in my official report?" questioned darrin. "you have me there, mr. darrin," laughed the commandant, while the lieutenant turned to hide a smile. "i am quite satisfied with your official report, but i wish to ask you some questions, on my own account, about your own experience in rescuing mr. page." this it took some minutes to draw out. darrin did not balk, nor try to conceal anything, but he had a natural aversion to singing his own praises, and answered questions only sparingly at first. yet, at last, the commandant succeeded in drawing out a story, bit by bit, that made the old seadog's eyes glisten with pride. "mr. darrin," announced the commandant, "from experience and observation, through a rather long life in the navy, i am able to state that the kind of courage which enables a man go down in drowning with a comrade, sooner than leave the comrade to his fate, is the highest type of courage known among brave men!" "you must have been aware, mr. darrin," added lieutenant edgecombe, "that you were taking at least ninety-nine chances in a hundred of offering up your life." "gentlemen," replied dave, rather restless under so much praise, "i have signed under the flag, to give my life up for it at any time in the line of duty. does it make very much difference in which year i turn that life over to the flag?" "edgecombe," said the commandant, rather huskily, as the two officers left the hospital, "i am glad--mighty glad--that we didn't lose darrin today. we are going to need him in the navy of tomorrow!" chapter xxii the "bazoo" makes trouble "sir, the brigade is formed," reported the brigade adjutant, the next day, as the midshipmen stood in ranks, ready to march into the mess hall. "publish the orders," directed the cadet commander. then the brigade adjutant rattled off the orders, reading them in a quick monotonous voice. "for coolness, judgment and remarkable bravery displayed in an accident encounter in the sinking and foundering of a sailboat under his command, which accident was not any way due to his own negligence or incapacity--" dave started, then crimsoned, as the brigade adjutant continued reading: "midshipman david darrin, fourth class, is hereby specially commended, and his conduct is offered as an example to all his comrades in the brigade of midshipmen." a moment later the crisp marching orders rang out, and the brigade was marching in by classes. dave's face was still flushed, his blood tingling somewhat. it was pleasing, doubtless, to be thus reviewed in orders, but dave was not unduly elated. in the navy, though courage may sometimes be mentioned in orders, not much fuss is made over it. all officers and men in the navy are expected to be brave, as a matter of course and of training. dan, in fact, was more pleased over that one paragraph in orders than was his chum. "of course everyone in the navy must brave," thought dalzell, to himself. "but old dave will always be one of the leaders in that line." in accordance with custom a copy of the order giving darrin special commendation was mailed to his father, as one who had a right to know and to be proud of his son's record at the naval academy. not a doubt was there that the senior darrin was proud! so many of the elder darrin's friends were favored with a glimpse of the official communication received from annapolis that the editor of the gridley "blade," heard of it. mr. pollock asked the privilege of making a copy of the official communication, which contained a copy of the paragraph in orders. mr. pollock, however, was not contented with publishing merely a copy of the official communication from the naval academy authorities. the editor printed a column and a half, in all reminding his readers that midshipman darrin was one of a recently famous sextette of gridley high school athletes who had been famous as dick & co. not only did dave receive a flattering amount of praise in print. dan came in for a lot of pleasant notice also. dave received a marked copy of that issue of the "blade." he fairly shivered as he read through that column and a half. "danny boy," shuddered darrin, passing the "blade" over to his roommate, "read this awful stuff. then help me to destroy this paper!" dan dalzell read the column and a half, and reddened, grinning in a sickly sort of way. "just awful, isn't it?" demanded midshipman dalzell. "awful?" muttered darrin uneasily. "why that doesn't begin to describe it. if any upper class man should see that paper--" "he won't see this copy," proclaimed dan, beginning to tear the offending issue of the "blade" into small bits. in the parlance of annapolis the newspaper from a midshipman's home town is known as the "bazoo." now, the "bazoo" has an average inclination to print very flattering remarks about the local representative at annapolis. while the home editor always means this as pleasant service, the detection of flattering articles by any upper class man at annapolis always means unpleasant times for the poor plebe who has been thus honored in the columns of the "bazoo." the torn bits of the gridley "blade" were carefully disposed of, but dave still shivered. through a clipping agency, or in some other mysterious way, upper class men frequently get hold of the "bazoo." four days passed, and nothing happened out of the usual. on the evening of the fifth day, just after the release bell had rung, there was a brief knock at the door. then that barrier flew open. midshipmen jones, hulburt and heath of the second class filed gravely into the room, followed by midshipmen healy, brooks, denton, trotter and paulson of the third class. dave and dan quickly rose to their feet, standing at attention facing their visitors. with a tragic air, as if he were an executioner present in his official capacity, youngster paulson held out a folded newspaper. "mister," he ordered darrin, "receive this foul sheet. unfold it, mister. now, mister, what depraved sheet do you hold in your hands?" "the gridley 'blade', sir," replied darrin, his face crimsoning. "the--_what_, mister?" "pardon me, sir--the gridley 'bazoo.'" "have you seen another copy of the 'bazoo' lately, mister?" "yes, sir," admitted dave, his face growing still redder. "ah! he saw it--and still he did not die of shame!" murmured second class man jones. "shocking depravity!" groaned midshipman hurlburt. "since you have already scanned the 'bazoo,'" resumed midshipman paulson, "you will have no difficulty in finding the page, mister, on which the editor of the 'bazoo' sings his silly praise of you. turn to that page, mister." dave further unfolded the paper, coming to the page on which the fearful article was printed. as he glanced at it dave saw that the article had been marked in blue pencil, and many of the paragraphs numbered. "since you admit having read the 'bazoo's' infamous article, mister," continued midshipman paulson, "tell us whether any of the scurrilous charges therein are true?" "the quotation from the official report, sir, being correct as a copy, is bound to be true--" "official reports at the naval academy are always true," retorted paulson severely. "proceed, sir, to the comments which the ink-slinger of the 'bazoo' has made concerning you. mister, read the paragraph numbered 'one.'" in a voice that shook a trifle dave read: _"dave darrin is, beyond any question or cavil, one of the brightest, smartest, bravest and most popular boys who ever went forth into the world as a true son of old gridley."_ "mister," declared paulson, "you may gloss over some of the slander in those words by singing them to the tune of 'yankee doodle.'" dave flushed. there was a momentary flash in his eyes. dan, watching his chum covertly, was briefly certain that darrin was going to balk. perhaps he would even fight. true hazing, however, does not aim at cruelty, but at teaching a new man to obey, no matter how absurd the order. in another moment the grim lines around the corners of dave's mouth softened to a grin. "wipe off that ha-ha look, mister!" warned youngster paulson. "i'll sing, gentlemen, if you think you can stand it," dave promised. "you'll sing, mister, because you've been ordered to do so," reported paulson as master of ceremonies. "now, then, let us have that paragraph to the air of 'yankee doodle.'" dave obeyed. to do him justice, he sang the best that he knew how, but that wasn't saying much for quality. dave had a good voice for a leader of men, but a poor one for a singer. somehow, he got through the ordeal. "now, cast your eye on the paragraph marked as number two," directed mr. paulson. "mister, the 'bazoo' in your left hand. thrust your right hand in under the front of your blouse and strike the attitude popularly ascribed to daniel webster. no comedy, either, mister; give us a serious impersonation, sir!" this was surely rubbing it in, but dave gave his best in attitude and pose. "effective!" murmured midshipman jones. "very! "superb!" voiced mr. hurlburt. "now, for the declamation, mister, of paragraph number two," commanded youngster paulson. in a deep voice, and with a ring that was meant to be convincing, dave read the paragraph: _"since a school consists of pupils as well as of instructors, the brightest student minds may be said to make the life and history of a famous school. it has been so with our justly famous gridley high school. mr. darrin, in the past, has aided in establishing many of the traditions of the famous school that claims him as her own son. the young man's heroism at annapolis, under the most exacting conditions, will surprise no one who knows either mr. darrin or the splendid traditions that he helped establish among the youth of his home town. in the years to come we may look confidently forward to hearing the name of darrin as one of the most famous among the newer generation of the united states navy. david darrin will always be a hero--because he cannot help it."_ as dave, his face flushing more hotly than ever, read through these lines he was conscious of the jeering gaze of the upper class men. he was interrupted, at times, by cries of fervid but mock admiration. "i feel," announced mr. hurlburt, wiping his eyes with his handkerchief, "that i am indeed honored in being one of the humbler students at this great school on which our beloved comrade has shed the luster of his presence." "it seems almost profane to look at such a young man, except through smoked glasses," protested midshipman heath. "what's your name, mister?" demanded midshipman brooks. "darrin, sir," dave answered, with the becoming meekness of a fourth class man. "any relative of the darrin mentioned in the elegy you have just been reading?" "i hope not, sir," replied dave, fighting to stifle a grin, though it was a sheepish one. "mister," stormed midshipman denton, "you are attempting to deceive us!" dave gazed meekly but inquiringly at the last speaker. "you are trying to evade the fact that you are the real darrin, the identical hero whom the 'bazoo' so lovingly, so reverently describes. deceit fills your system, mister! you will stand on your head long enough to let it run out of you." midshipman paulson, though an inveterate "runner" of fourth class men, had some regard for the dangers of overstaying the visit, and kept his left eye on the time. darrin, standing on his head, became redder of face than ever, for all the blood in his body seemed to be running downward. at last he became so unsteady that twice his feet slipped along the wall, and he had to return to his attitude of standing on his head. "better let up on the beast, paulson," murmured midshipman brooks. "yes," agreed paulson. "the warning bell will go in a minute more. mister, on your feet!" dave promptly returned to normal attitude, standing respectfully at attention. "mister," continued paulson, "you will be allowed to retain this marked copy of the 'bazoo.' you are warned to keep it out of sight, ordinarily, that none of the discipline officers may find it. but you will continue to refer to it several times daily, until you are sure that you have committed all of the marked paragraphs to heart, so that you can reel them off in song or in declamation. and you will be prepared, at all times, to favor any of the upper class men with these selections, whenever called for. good night, mister! "good night, sir." dave returned the salutations of each of the departing visitors. just as brooks, the last of the lot, was passing through the doorway, the warning bell before taps sounded. for a moment dave darrin, his face still red, stood behind the closed door, shaking his fist after the departing visitors. "why didn't you shake your fist while they were in the room?" asked dalzell bluntly. "that would have started a fight, as the least consequence," replied dave, more soberly. "a fight, eh?" chuckled dan. "dave, i don't know what has come over you lately. there was a time when you didn't mind fights." "i have fought three times since coming here," darrin replied soberly. "and i have fought seven times," retorted dan. "puzzle: guess which one of us was found the fresher," laughed darrin. "i never thought you'd stand anything such as you've endured at annapolis, without pounding your way through thick ranks of fighters," mused dalzell aloud. "dave, i can't fathom your meekness." "perhaps it isn't meekness," returned darrin, wheeling and looking at his chum. "if it isn't meekness, then what is it? and, dave, you used to be the hothead, the living firebrand of dick & co.!" "danny boy, if hazing has lived nearly seventy years at annapolis, then it's because hazing is a good thing for the seedling naval officer. i believe in hazing. i believe in being forced to respect and obey my elders. i believe in a fellow having every grain of conceit driven out of him by heroic measures. and that's hazing--long may the practice live and flourish!" "why, what good is hazing doing you?" insisted dalzell. "it's teaching me how to submit and to obey, and how to forget my own vanity, before i am put in command of other men later on. danny boy, do you suppose it has cost me no effort to keep my hands at my trousers-seams when i wanted to throw my fists out in front of me? do you imagine i have just tamely submitted to a lot of abuse because my spirit was broken? danny, i'm trying to train my spirit, instead of letting it boss me! many and many a time, when the youngsters have started to guy me unmercifully i've fairly ached to jump in and thrash 'em all. but, instead, i've tried to conquer myself!" "i reckon you're the same old dave--improved," murmured midshipman dalzell, holding out his hand. chapter xxiii the spectre at the fight party "on your head, mister. now, let us have paragraph number four, with tragic, blank-verse effect." that was jennison's command brooks manifested a fondness for paragraph number one, to the air of "yankee doodle." others dropped in on dave, after release at 9.30, evenings, and called for other paragraph rendered in various ways. he was also overhauled, out of doors, in the brief recreation period after dinner, and made to do various stunts with the unfortunate paragraphs from the "bazoo." by the time the first week of this was over dave darrin wished most heartily that mr. pollock had never founded the gridley "blade." it is rare that second class men take any part in hazing; it is almost unheard of for a first class man to take any really active part in running a plebe. midshipman henley, first class, proved an exception to this rule. regularly, once a day, he met darrin and ordered him to sing paragraph number one to the tune of "yankee doodle." if dave resented any part of the torment, he was especially annoyed by henley's unusual conduct. naval needs brought a strange revenge. reports had reached the navy department from commanders of warships in commission that many of the graduates of the naval academy serving with the fleets did not possess sufficient knowledge of the command of boat crews. in the past first class men had not been bothered with rowing drills, which they were supposed to have thoroughly mastered earlier in their course. acting on word from the navy department the superintendent of the naval academy had the first class men ordered out for rowing drills. all who showed sufficient skill were released from such drills. the others were sent to drill with the fourth class men. four of dave's boat crew of fourth class men were transferred to another crew, their places being taken by four first class men who had been found sadly deficient in rowing drill. "will one of the first class men serve as crew captain, sir?" asked darrin. "certainly not," replied lieutenant edgecombe. "you will still keep command of your crew, mr. darrin. and you will be expected to see that these first class men are most thoroughly grounded in the boat drill. do no spare any of them in the least because they are upper class men." "very good, sir," darrin answered, saluting. midshipman henley was one of the four assigned to dave's crew. there was a deep scowl on henley's face when he reported for the first boat drill under a plebe crew captain. as the boat was pushed off, after the crew had embarked, darrin was alert only to his duty as the man in charge of the boat. before the boat had gone a hundred yard dave called crisply: "number four, handle your oar with more energy and precision! "don't get too stiff, mister," growled midshipman henley. darrin returned the black look coolly. "number four, when addressing the crew captain, you will employ the word, 'sir.' and you will pay strict attention to criticisms of your work." "beats all how these plebes think they're men!" growled mr. henley disgustedly, without looking at dave. "no talking in the crew," called dave henley subsided, for he had been trained to habits of obedience. had the man in command been a member of his own class there would have been no trouble whatever, but henley resented being at the orders of a fourth class man. "number four, you are lounging," rebuked darrin quietly, but firmly. "correct your deportment, sir." dave gazed so steadily at midshipman henley that the latter, though he colored, took a more seamanlike attitude for a while. bitter thoughts, however, were seething in the mind of this first class man. after a few minutes henley again struck his improper attitude. "mr. henley, upon your return put yourself on the report for taking an unseamanlike attitude after having been once corrected," directed dave, in a businesslike tone. the hot blood leaped to henley's face and temples. he opened his mouth, intent upon making a stinging retort. but dave was glancing at him so coolly, compellingly, that the older midshipman now realized that he had gone as far as was safe. during the rest of the drill mr. henley performed his work well enough to escape further rebuke. when the crew was dismissed, however, henley wore a blacker look than ever as he stalked along to the office of the officer in charge. here henley picked up one of the report blanks, filled it out as briefly as possible, an signed his name, next turning in the report. immediately after supper that night, and before the signal sent the midshipmen to their studies, henley stepped up to dave. "mister, i want a word in private with you." "certainly, sir," replied dave. he was no longer crew captain on duty, but a fourth class man answering a first class man. henley conducted dave out of earshot of any one else before he turned to say, hissingly: "mister, you used an upstart's privilege of abusing your authority this afternoon." "i think not, sir," replied dave quietly. "you put me on report for no other reason than that i had made you sing extracts from the 'bazoo,'" charged the first class man. "that reason or thought never entered my head, sir." "i say it did!" "then i am very sorry to have to reply that you are entirely in error." "you tell me that i am making a false statement?" demanded midshipman henley, more angrily. "if you choose to consider it in that light, sir." "mister, you are touge, ratey, impudent and worthless!" declared henley hotly. "then i infer, sir, that you do not wish to waste any more time upon me?" "oh, you will not get off as easily as that," sneered midshipman henley. "you are a good-sized fellow, and you have some fourth class reputation as a fighter. we shall not be so badly or unevenly matched, mister, i shall send a friend to inform you that i have called you out." "then, sir, your friend will save time by seeking mr. dalzell, of the fourth class, who will be informed that he is to represent me." "very good, mister." "that is all you wish to say to me, sir?" "you may go, mister." dave darrin walked away, his mind full of mighty serious thoughts. in the first place, for a midshipman to call out another, for reporting him for breach of discipline, is about as serious an offense as a midshipman can ordinarily commit. it insures, if detected, the instant dismissal of the challenger. and the challenged midshipman, if he accepts, held to be equally guilty. so are the seconds. in accepting this challenge, which he had done instantly, dave darrin well knew that he placed his chances of remaining at the naval academy in great peril. he was also aware that he ran dan's head into equal danger. yet tradition and custom would not allow darrin to dodge the fight thus thrust upon him. it was equally true, that, if he failed to ask dan to act as his second, he would put a serious slight on his chum. dave hurried to dalzell, who listened with more glee than might have been expected. "good enough, david, little giant!" approved dalzell. "when you meet henley on the field just close in and pound off the whole of his superstructure! "dan, i'm afraid i'm letting you in for a tough risk." "you wouldn't be my friend if you kept me out of it," retorted dalzell significantly. rollins proved only too glad to have the privilege of being the other second. he, too, ran a risk of being dismissed, if caught at this fight; but in adventurous youth the love of risk is strong. the time was set for saturday evening at 8.30; the place as usual. darrin, as usual, was the first principal to show up. he always liked to have plenty of time for stripping, and he also found it to his advantage to look the ground over. mr. bailey, of the second class, was to serve as referee, and mr. clafflin, of the second class as time-keeper. it was against custom to have any of the officials from the first class since member of that class was to be one of the principals. "i wonder what sort of fellow henley is with his fists," mused rollins, after they had reached the ground. "darrin will find out for you," replied dan. "i'm not as afraid of seeing my principal thrashed as i might have been earlier in the year," went on rollins. "hm! any fellow that thrashes dave is almost certain to carry away a few mementos himself!" as soon as henley and his seconds were seen to be approaching, dave slipped off his blouse. within five minutes after that both men were ready and faced each other. the word was given. "now, mr. touge," warned henley, "guard that striking face of yours!" "oh, i don't do any striking with my face," retorted dave dryly. "i do all my killing with my hands." "stop that one," urged henley, feinting cleverly with his left, then following it up with a right hand crusher. dave stopped both blows neatly enough, then sidestepped and passed over a fist that grazed mr. henley's face. "i just wanted to find out where your face is," mocked darrin. "talk less and fight more, mr. touge!" warned the referee. "very good, sir," dave retorted. "but it's going to be hard on mr. henley." "bah!" sneered henley. "woof!" the latter exclamation followed when dave's fist cut henley's lip a bit. but that indignity stirred the first class man to swifter, keener efforts. he failed to score heavily on the fourth class man, however; but, just before the call time for the first round henley's nose stopped a blow from darrin's fist, and first class blood began to flow. "mr. touge is a hard fighter," muttered the time-keeper to the referee, while the seconds attended their men. "we've plenty of fellows at annapolis who can punish darrin," replied midshipman bailey. time was called for the start-off of the second round. the two principals were intent on their footwork around each other, when there came hail that froze their blood. "halt! remain as you are for inspection!" it was the voice of lieutenant hall, one of the discipline officers, and the fighters and their friends had been caught! chapter xxiv conclusion blank dismay fell over the whole of the fight party. three first class men, two second class men and three members of the fourth class stood on the brink of almost instant dismissal. it was bitter for all of them, but it seemed especially hard to the first class men, who had survived the four years of hard grilling and were on the eve of graduation. however, there was no thought of running. though it was too dark for the discipline officer to have recognized any of them at the distance from which he had hailed them, yet, in a flight, it would be easy enough for lieutenant hall, who was an athlete, to catch one or two of them and then the names of all present could be obtained. it was an instant of utter terror. then another voice broke in on the stillness. "all hands to the fire apparatus! fire in bancroft hall!" the fight party felt another thrill. if the big academy building was in danger they must rush to do their share. the officer's running footsteps were already heard. he had turned and was speeding away. "get on your clothes, quickly, you two fellows!" ordered midshipman bailey crisply "we've got to turn in with the rest for fast work!" just then another figure darted up to them. it turned out to be midshipman farley. "yes; get on your clothes with some classy speed," chuckled farley. "lieutenant hall will be back here with a bunch of watchmen, the marine guard, or any other old crowd, when he finds that he has been lured on the reefs by false signals! "mister, did you give that call of fire?" demanded midshipman bailey sternly. "yes, sir." "and there's no fire?" "none that i know of, sir." "mister, what's your name?" "farley, sir." "then, farley, sir, come and get hugged." in truth a lot of fuss was made over that young midshipman within a few seconds. "it can't do much harm to use you something like a human being and a comrade, anyway," declared time-keeper clafflin, as he wrung both of farley's hands. "within a few days you'll be a youngster now." farley explained that an itching interest in the fight had tempted him to be close at hand, and this had given him his chance to save the fight party. darrin and henley were dressing like lightning, and the others would not flee until the principals were ready to take part in the flight. "henley," broke in midshipman bailey decisively, "you can't risk your graduation again by resuming this fight at some other time. as far as the mill had gone mr. darrin had the best of it. i award the fight to him." "i'm glad you do, bailey," replied henley heartily. "and, as soon as i'm dressed, and my cap is set on square, i'm going to apologize and ask mr. darrin to shake hands with me." "will you do me a favor, sir?" inquired dave. "a dozen," agreed henley instantly. "then, sir, cut the apology and confine it to the hand-shake." in another moment they were ready for hasty departure. but dave had to wait for a quick, hearty handclasp from each of the upper class men. then all divided into three groups, by classes, and thirty seconds later found these midshipmen too far from the scene to be identified with any fight party. "it was a remarkably good and cheeky piece of work, sir," lieutenant hall reported, twenty minutes later, to commander jephson, commandant of midshipmen. "i had a fight party right under my hands when that call of fire sounded. it was so natural that i bolted away and lost my party before i discovered that it was a hoax." "did you recognize any of the fight party, mr. hall? "no, sir; i was not close enough, and the night is dark." "did you recognize the voice of the man who gave the fire-call?" "no, sir; at any rate, i believe that the voice was disguised." "the young men have discovered a new one, and have tried it on you, mr. hall." "i realize that, sir," replied the lieutenant, in a voice of chagrin. it was now the time of annual examinations, of daily dress parade and the incoming of the first of the hosts of visitors who would be on hand during graduation week. of the annual examinations the poor fourth class men thought they had more than their share. of the dress parades they had their full share. in the graduating exercises they took no part; they were not even present. "what does a mere fourth class man know about the navy, anyway?" was the way midshipman trotter asked the question. twenty-two of the fourth class men stumbled in their annual examinations. these went home promptly. they would not return again, unless their congressmen reappointed them for another try. in case that happened to any of the young men they would return to take up life with the new fourth class, and would henceforth be known as "bilgers." a man who has been dropped is a "bilger," whether he comes back or not. a "bilger" is further described as "one who used to be in the game, and is now only on the outside looking in." dave darrin's standing for the year was two-eighty-seven. dan's was two-eighty-two. farley and page came close to that figure. none of these young men were in the "savvy" section, but all had passed with sufficient credit for the first year. while the graduating exercises were going on the fourth class men were divided between drills on land and on water. dave and dan were in a squad that marched up from the steam building just in time to catch a distant glimpse of the crowds surging out from the graduating exercises. both young men, and probably a lot of others in the same squad throbbed with a swift flash of thought. as soon as the ranks were broken dalzell seized his chum's hand, and began wringing it strenuously. "david, little giant," murmured dan ecstatically, "we are no longer fourth class men. from the instant that the tail-ender of the old first class received his diploma we became transformed into third class men." "yes," smiled dave. "we're youngsters. that's going some." "poor fourth class men!" sighed dan. "i'm alluding to those who will have to look up to and reverence me as a youngster!" as soon as the chums had made a shift from their working clothes to the uniform of the day, and had stepped outside, they saw mr. henley coming their way, looking wholly proud and happy. then, of a sudden, mr. henley bent a keen look upon the new youngsters. just in the nick of time dave darrin recalled one of the regulations to which he had hitherto paid little heed for lack of use. graduate midshipmen are entitled to be saluted by mere midshipmen as though they were already officer. swiftly darrin brought his heels together with a click, bringing his hand smartly up to the visor of his uniform cap. henley gravely returned the salute with a new sense of existence. dan dalzell caught the drift of the thing just in time, and saluted also. "may we congratulate you, mr. henley?" asked dave. "i was hoping that you both would," replied the graduate. "and, one of these days, i may have the pleasure of congratulating you, as an officer, when you first come up over the side to start in with your real sea life." "i'm thinking, now, of our first taste of sea life," murmured darrin, a dreamy light coming into his eyes. "yes; just as soon as we graduates are gotten out of the way you new youngsters will join the two upper classes on the big battleships and start on your first summer practice cruise." "i feel as if i couldn't wait," muttered dan, as henley moved away. "you'll have to, however," laughed dave. "don't be impatient. think what a very small insect on shipboard a youngster midshipman is!" the chums were through with their first year at annapolis. but, all in a moment, they had entered the next year. many things befell them on that summer practice cruise, and many more things in the new academic year that followed. but these will be appropriately reserved for the next volume, which will be entitled: "_dave darrin's second year at annapolis; or, two midshipmen as naval academy 'youngsters.'_" having left the fourth class behind dave and dan at last entered fully into the life of the midshipmen. they "counted" now; they were "somebodies," and a host of new and exciting experiences were ahead of them. dave darrin's fourth year at annapolis headed for graduation and the big cruise h. irving hancock contents chapters i. wanted---a doughface! ii. some one pushes the tungsten iii. bad news from west point iv. dave's work goes stale v. dan hands himself bad money vi. the "forgot" path to trouble vii. dan's eyes jolt his wits viii. the prize trip on the "dodger" ix. the treachery of morton x. "we belong to the navy, too!" xi. a quarter's worth of hope xii. ready to trim west point xiii. when "brace up, army!" was the word xiv. the navy goat grins xv. dan feels as "sold" as he looks xvi. the day of many doubts xvii. mr. clairy deals in outrages xviii. the whole class takes a hand xix. midshipman darrin has the floor xx. dan steers on the rocks again xxi. in the thick of disaster xxii. the search at the bottom of the bay xxiii. graduation day---at last xxiv. conclusion chapter i wanted---a doughface! "now, then, danny boy, we-----" first classman dave darrin, midshipman at the united states naval academy, did not finish what he was about to say. while speaking he had closed the door behind him and had stepped into the quarters occupied jointly by himself and by midshipman daniel dalzell, also of the first or upper class. "danny boy isn't here. visiting, probably," mused dave darrin, after having glanced into the alcove bedroom at his right hand. it was a saturday night, early in october. the new academic year at the naval academy was but a week old. there being no "hop" that night the members of the brigade had their time to spend as they pleased. some of the young men would need the time sadly to put in at their new studies. dave, fortunately, did not feel under any necessity to spend his leisure in grinding over text-books. dave glanced at his study desk, though he barely saw the pile of text-books neatly piled up there. "no letters to write tonight," he thought "i was going to loan danny boy one of my two new novels. no matter; if he'd rather visit let him do so." in the short interval of recreation that had followed the evening meal dave had missed his home chum and roommate, but had thought nothing of it. nor was dave now really disappointed over the present prospect of having an hour or two by himself. he went to a one-shelf book rack high overhead and pulled down one of his two recent novels. "if i want danny boy at any time i fancy i have only to step as far as page's room," mused dave, as he seated himself by his desk. an hour slipped by without interruption. an occasional burst of laughter floated down the corridor. at some distance away, on the same deck of barracks in bancroft hall, a midshipman was industriously twanging away on a banjo. darrin, however, absorbed in his novel, paid no heed to any of the signs of saturday-night jollity. he was a third of the way through an exciting tale when there came a knock on the door---a moment later a head was thrust in. midshipman farley's head was thrust inside. "all alone, darry?" called mr. farley. "yes," dave answered, laying his novel aside after having thrust an envelope between pages to hold the place. "come in, farl." "where's dalzell?" inquired farley, after having closed the door behind him. "until this moment i thought that he was in your room." "i haven't seen him all evening," farley responded. "page and i have been yawning ourselves to death." "danny boy is visiting some other crowd, then," guessed darrin. "he will probably be along soon. did you want to see him about anything in particular?" "oh, no. i came here to escape being bored to death by page, and poor old pagey has just fled to wilson's room to escape being bored by me. what are these saturday evenings for, anyway, when there's no way of spending them agreeably?" "for a good many of the men, who want to get through," smiled dave, "saturday evening is a heaven-sent chance to do a little more studying against a blue next week. as for danny boy, i imagine he must have carried his grin up to wilson's room. or, maybe, to jetson's. danny has plenty of harbors where he's welcome to cast his anchor." "may i sit down?" queried mr. farley. "surely, furl, and with my heartiest apologies for having been too dull to push a chair toward you." "i can easily help myself," laughed the other midshipman, "since there's only one other chair in the room." "what have you and page been talking about tonight?" asked dave. "why do you want to know?" "so that i won't run the risk of boring you by talking oh the same subject." "well," confessed midshipman farley, "we've been talking about this season's football." "oh, dear!" sighed darrin. "that's the only topic really worth talking about." "speaking of football," resumed farley, "don't you believe that we have a stronger eleven than we had last year!" "if we haven't we ought to walk the plank," retorted dave. "you remember how the army walloped us last year?" "that was because the army team had prescott and holmes on it," rejoined farley quickly. "well, they'll have 'em this year, too, won't they? "so prescott and holmes are to be out for the army this year!" "i haven't heard anything definite on that head," dave answered. "but i take it as a matter of course that prescott and holmes will play once more with the army. they're west point men, and they know their duty." "what wonders that pair are!" murmured farley with reluctant admiration for the star players of the united states military academy. "yet, after all, darry, i can't for the life of me see where prescott and holmes are in any way superior to yourself and dan dalzell." "except," smiled dave, "that prescott and holmes, last year, got by us a good deal oftener than we got by them---and so the army lugged off the score from franklin field." "but you won't let 'em do it this year, darry!" "dan and i will do all we can to stop our oldtime chums, now of the army," agreed dave. "but they're a hard pair to beat. any one who saw prescott and holmes play last year will agree that they're a hard pair of nuts for the navy to crack." "we've got to beat the army this year," farley protested plaintively. "i certainly hope we shall do so." "darry, what is your candid opinion of wolgast?" "as a man?" "you know better!" "as a midshipman?" "darry, stop your nonsense! you know well enough that i'm asking your opinion of wolgast as captain of the navy eleven." "he seems inclined to be fair and just to every member of the squad, so what more can you ask of him." "but do you think he's any real good, darry, as captain for the navy?" "i do." "we ought to have had you for captain of the team, darry," insisted farley. "so two or three other fellows thought," admitted dave. "but i refused to take that post, as you know, and i'm glad i did." "oh, come, now! "yes; i'm glad i refused. a captain should be in mid-field. now, if dalzell and i are any good at all on the gridiron-----" "oh, mr. modesty!" "if we're of any use at all," pursued darrin, "it's only on the flank. now, where would the navy be with a captain directing from the right or left flank." "darry, you funker, you could play center as well as wolgast does." "farl, you're letting your prejudices spoil your eyesight." "oh, i've no prejudice at all against wolgast," farley hastened to rejoin. "only i don't consider him our strongest man for captain. now, wolgast-----" "here!" called a laughing voice. the door had opened, after a knock that darrin had not noticed. "talking about me?" inquired midshipman wolgast pleasantly, as he stopped in the middle of the room. midshipman farley was nothing at all on the order of the backbiter. service in the brigade of midshipmen for three years had taught him the virtue of direct truth. "yes, wolly," admitted farley without embarrassment. "i was criticizing your selection as captain of the eleven." "nothing worse than that?" laughed first classman wolgast. "i was saying---no offense, wolly---that i didn't consider you the right man to head the navy eleven." midshipman wolgast stepped over to farley, holding out his right hand. "shake, farl! i'm glad to find a man of brains on the eleven. i know well enough that i'm not the right captain. but we couldn't make darry accept the post." midshipman wolgast appeared anything but hurt by the direct candor with which he had been treated. he now threw one leg over the corner of the study table, though he inquired: "am i interrupting anything private?" "not in the least," dave assured him. "am i intruding in any way?" "not a bit of it," darrin answered heartily "we're glad to have you here with us." "surely," nodded farley. "now, then, as to my well known unfitness to command the navy football team," continued first classman wolgast, "do either of you see any faults in me that can be remedied?" "i can't," dave answered. "i believe, wolly, that you can lead the team as well as any other man in the squad. on the whole, i believe you can lead a little better than any other man could do." "no help from your quarter, then, darry," sighed midshipman wolgast. "farl, help me out. tell me some way in which i can improve my fitness for the post of honor that has been thrust upon me. i assure you i didn't seek it." "wolgast, my objection to you has nothing personal in it," farley went on. "with me it is a case simply of believing that darry could lead us on the gridiron much better than you're likely to." "that i know," retorted wolgast, with emphasis. "but what on earth are we going to do with a fellow like darrin? he simply won't allow himself to be made captain. i'd resign this minute, if we could have darry for our captain." "you're going to do all right, wolgast. i know you are," dave rejoined. "then what's the trouble? why don't i suit all hands?" demanded the navy's football captain. darrin was silent for a few moments. the midshipmen visitors waited patiently, knowing that, from this comrade, they could be sure of a wholly candid reply. "have you found the answer, darry?" pressed wolgast at last. "yes," said dave slowly; "i think i have. the reason, as i see it, is that there are no decidedly star players on this year's probable eleven. the men are all pretty nearly equal, which doesn't give you a chance to tower head and shoulders above the other players. usually, in the years that i know anything of, it has been the other way. there have been only two or three star players in the squad, and the captain was usually one of the very best. you're plenty good enough football man, wolgast, but there are so many other pretty good ones that you don't outshine the others as much as captains of poorer teams have done in other years." "by jupiter! darry has hit it!" cried farley, leaping from his seat. "wolly, you have the luck to command an eleven in which most of the men are nearly, if not quite, as good as the captain. you're not head and shoulders over the rest, and you don't tower---that's all. wolly, i apologize for my criticisms. darry has shown me the truth." "then you look for a big slaughter list for us this year, darry?" wolgast asked. "yes; unless the other elevens that we're to play improve as much as the navy is going to do." at this moment page and jetson rapped and then entered. ten minutes later there were fully twenty midshipmen in the room, all talking animatedly on the one subject at the united states naval academy in october---football. so the time sped. dave lost his chance to read his novel, but he did not mind the loss. it was jetson who, at last, discovered the time. "whew, fellows!" he muttered. "only ten minutes to taps." that sent most of the midshipmen scuttling away. page and farley, however, whose quarters were but a few doors away on the same deck, remained. "farl," murmured darrin, "for the first time tonight i'm feeling a bit worried." "over danny?" "the same." "what's up?" page wanted to know. "why, he hasn't been around all evening. surely dalzell would be coming back by this time, unless-----" "didn't he have leave to visit town?" demanded midshipman page. "not that i've heard of," dave darrin answered quickly. "nor do i see how he could have done so. you see, wednesday he received some demerits, and with them went the loss of privileges for october." "whew!" whistled page. "what?" demanded dave, his alarm increasing. "why, not long after supper i saw danny heading toward the wall on the town side." "i have been afraid of that for the last two or three minutes," exclaimed dave darrin, his uneasiness now showing very plainly. "dan didn't say a word to me about going anywhere, but-----" "you think, leave being impossible, danny has frenched it over the wall?" demanded farley. "that's just what i'm afraid of," returned dave. "but why-----" "i don't know any reason." "then-----" "farl", broke in dave hurriedly, almost fiercely, "has anyone a doughface?" "yes." "who has it?" "i don't know." "find it---on the jump!" "but-----" "there's no time for 'buts,'" retorted darrin, pushing farley toward the door. "find it!" "and i-----" added page, springing toward the door. "you'll stay here," ordered dave. darrin was already headed toward his friend's alcove, where dalzell's cot lay. page followed. "the dummy," explained darrin briefly. every midshipman at annapolis, doubtless, is familiar with the dummy. not so many, probably, are familiar with the doughface, which, at the time this is written, was a new importation. swiftly dave and page worked. first they turned down the clothing, after having hurriedly made up the cot. now, from among the garments hanging on the wall nearby the two midshipmen took down the garments that normally lay under others. with these they rigged up a figure not unlike that of a human being. at least, it looked so after the bed clothes had been drawn up in place. then, glancing at the time, dave darrin waited---breathless. farley hastened into the room without losing time by knocking. under one arm he bore, half hidden, some roundish object, wrapped in a towel. without a word, but with a heart full of gratitude, dave darrin snatched out from its wrapping the effigy of a male human head. it was done in wax, with human hair on the head. dave darrin neatly fitted this at the top of the outlines of a figure under the bed clothing. under the full light the doughface looked ghostly. in a dimmer light it would do very well. "thank you a thousand times, fellows," trembled dave darrin. "now hustle to your own quarters before the first stroke of taps sounds." the two useful visitors were gone like a flash. ere they had quite closed the door, dave darrin was removing his own uniform and hanging up trousers and blouse. next off came the underclothing and on went pajamas. just then taps sounded. out went the electric light, turned off at the master switch. dave darrin dived under the bed clothes on his own cot and tried to still the beating of his own heart. two minutes later a brisk step sounded on the corridor of the "deck." door after door was opened and closed. then the door to dave's room swung open, and a discipline officer and a midshipman looked into the room. "all in?" the midshipman called. a light snore from dave darrin's throat answered. in his left hand the discipline officer carried an electric pocket light. a pressure of a button would supply a beam of electric light that would explore the bed of either midshipman supposed to be in this room. but the officer saw midshipman darrin plainly enough, thanks to beams of light from the corridor. over in the opposite alcove the discipline officer made out, more vaguely, the lay figure and the doughface intended to represent midshipman dan dalzell. "both in. darrin and dalzell never give us any trouble, at any rate," thought the discipline officer to himself, then closed the door, and his footsteps sounded further down the corridor. "oh, danny boy, i wish i had you here right at this minute!" muttered dave darrin vengefully. "maybe i wouldn't whang your head off for the fright that you've given me! i'll wager half of my hairs have turned gray in the last minute!" however, midshipman dan dalzell was not there, as darrin knew to his own consternation. dave did not go to sleep. well enough he knew that he was on duty indefinitely through the hours until dan should return. if midshipman darrin fell into a doze this night he would be as bad as any sentry falling asleep on any other post. so darrin lay there and fidgeted. twenty times he tried to solve, in his own mind, the riddle of why dalzell should be away, and where he was. but it was a hopeless puzzle. "of course, danny didn't hint that he was going to french it tonight," thought dave bitterly. "good reason why, too! he knew that, if i got wind of his intention, i'd thrash him sooner than let him take such a chance. oh, dan! dan, you idiot! to take such a fool chance in your last year here, when detection probably means your being dropped from brigade, and your career ended!" for dave darrin knew the way of discipline officers too well to imagine that that one brief inspection of the room was positively all the look-in that would be offered that night. some discipline officers have a way of looking in often during the night. being themselves graduates of the naval academy, officers are sure to know that the inspection immediately after taps does not always suffice. midshipmen have been known to be in bed at taps, and visiting in quarters of other midshipmen ten minutes later. true, the electric light in rooms is turned off at taps---but midshipmen have been known to keep candles hidden, and to be experts in clouding doors and windows so that no ray of light gets through into a corridor after taps. just how often discipline officers were accustomed to look in through the night, dave darrin did not know from his own knowledge. usually, at the times of such extra visits, darrin was too blissfully asleep. tonight, however, despite the darkness of the room at present, dave lay wide awake. no sleep for him before daylight---perhaps not then---unless dan turned up in the meantime. after an interval that seemed several nights long, the dull old bell of the clock over on academic hall began tolling. dave listened and counted. he gave an almost incredulous snort when the total stopped at eleven. then another long period of waiting. darrin did not grow drowsy. on the contrary, he became more wide awake. in fact, he began to imagine that he was becoming possessed of the vision of the cat. dark as it was in the room, dave began to feel certain that he could distinguish plainly the ghostly figure of the saving doughface in the alcove opposite. twelve o'clock struck. then more waiting. it was not so very long, this time, however, before there came a faint tapping at the window. dave darrin was out of bed as though he had been shot out. like a flash he was at the window, peering out. where, after all, was the cat's vision of which he had thought himself possessed? some one was outside the window. dave thought he recognized the naval uniform, but he could not see a line of the face. tap-tap-tap! sounded softly. dave threw the window up stealthily. "you, dan?" he whispered. "of course," came the soft answer. "stand aside. let me in---on the double-quick!" dave pushed the window up the balance of the way, then stepped aside. dan dalzell landed on his feet in the room, cat-like, from the terrace without. then dave, without loss of an instant, closed the window and wheeled about in the darkness. "hustle!" commanded dave. "what about?" "get off your uniform! get into pajamas. then i'll-----" dave's jaws snapped together resolutely. he did not finish, just then, for he knew that midshipman dalzell could be very stubborn at times. "i'll have a light in a jiffy," whispered dan "i brought back a candle with me." "you won't use it---not in here," retorted dave. "the dark is light enough for you. hustle into your pajamas." perhaps midshipman dalzell did not make all the speed that his roommate desired, but at last dan was safely rid of his uniform, underclothing and shoes, and stood arrayed in pajamas. "now, i'll hide this doughface over night," whispered darrin, going toward dalzell's bed. "at the same time you get the articles of your equipment out from under your bed clothes and hang them up where they belong." "i'll have to light the candle for that," muttered dan. "if you do, i'll blow it out. there's a regulation against running lights in the rooms after taps." "do you worship the little blue-covered volume of regulations, dave?" dan demanded with a laugh. "no; but i don't propose to take any chances in my last year here. i don't intend to lose my commission in the navy just because i can't control myself." dan sniffed, but he silently got his parts of uniform out from between the sheets and hung up the articles where they belonged, in this going by the sense of feeling. then, all in the dark as they were, midshipman dave darrin seized his chum and roommate by the shoulders. "danny boy," he commanded firmly, "come over with an account of yourself! why this mad prank tonight---and what was it?" chapter ii some one pushes the tungsten you don't have to know every blessed thing that i do, do you?" demanded dan dalzell, in an almost offended tone. "no; and i have no right to know anything that you don't tell me willingly. are you ready to give me any explanation of tonight's foolishness? "seeing that you kept awake for me, and were on hand to let me in, i suppose i'll have to," grumbled dan. "well, then? "dave, for the first time tonight, i struck my flag." "struck to whom?" "oh---a girl, of course," grunted dan. "you? a girl?" repeated dave in amazement. "yes; is it any crime for me to get acquainted with a girl, and to call on her at her home?" "certainly not. but, dan, i didn't believe that you ever felt a single flutter of the pulse when girls were around. i thought you were going to grow up into a cheerful, happy old bachelor." "so did i," sighed dan. "and now you've gone and met your fate?" "i'm not so sure about that," dalzell retorted moodily. "do you mean that you don't stand any real show in front of the pair of bright eyes that have made you strike your colors?" "i'm afraid i don't." "dan, is the game worth the candle," argued darrin. "you're mightily interested in belle meade, aren't you?" "yes; but that's different, danny boy." "how is it different, i'd like to know?" "well, in the first place, there's no guesswork in my case. belle and i are engaged, and we feel perfectly sure each of the other. i'm so sure of belle that i dream about her only in my leisure moments. i don't ever let her face come between myself and the pages of a textbook. i am here at the naval academy working for a future that belle is to share with me when the time comes, and so, in justice to her, i don't let the thought of her get between myself and the duties that will lead to the career she is to share with me." "humph!" commented midshipman dalzell. "above all, dan, i've never frenched it over the wall. i don't take any disciplinary chances that can possibly shut me off from the career that belle and i have planned. belle meade, danny boy, would be the first to scold me if she knew that i had frenched it over the wall in order to meet her." "well, miss preston doesn't know but what i had regular leave tonight," danny replied. "miss preston?" repeated dave his interest taking a new tack. "i don't believe i know her." "i guess you don't," dan replied. "she's new in annapolis. visiting her uncle and aunt, you know. and her mother's with her." "are your intentions serious in this, danny?" darrin went on. "blessed if i know," dalzell answered candidly. "she's a mighty fine girl, is may preston. i don't suppose i'll ever be lucky enough to win the regard of such a really fine girl." "then you aren't engaged?" "hang it, man! this evening is only the second time that i've met miss preston." "and you've risked your commission to meet a girl for the second time?" dave demanded almost unbelievingly. "i haven't risked it much," dan answered. "i'm in safe, now, and ready to face any discipline officer." "but wouldn't this matter wait until november, when you're pretty sure to have the privilege of town leave again?" pressed midshipman darrin. "by november a girl like miss preston might be married to some one else," retorted dan dalzell. "it was a fool risk to take, dan!" "if you look at it that way." "will you promise me not to take the risk again, danny boy?" "no." "it's a serious affair, then, so far as you are concerned," grinned dave, though in the dark dan could not see his face. "for your sake, danny, i hope miss preston is as much interested in you as you certainly are in her." "are you going to lecture me?" "not tonight, dan." "then i'm going to get in between sheets. it's chilly here in the room." "duck!" whispered dave with sudden energy. footsteps could be heard coming down the corridor. it was a noise like a discipline officer. three doors above that of the room occupied by our midshipman friends were opened, one after the other. then a hand rested on the knob of the door to dave and dan's room. the door was opened, and the rays of a pocket electric light flashed into the room. dan lay on one side, an arm thrown out of bed, his breathing regular but a trifle loud. dave darrin had again found recourse to a snore. in an instant the door closed. any discipline officer ought to be satisfied with what this one had seen. "safe!" chuckled dalzell. "an awfully close squeak," whispered dave across the intervening room. "what if he had started his rounds ten minutes earlier?" "he didn't, though," replied dan contentedly. now another set of footsteps passed hurriedly along the "deck" outside. "what's that?" questioned a voice sharply. "you say that you saw some one entering a room from the upper end of the terrace?" "oh, by george," groaned dan dalzell, now beginning to shiver in earnest. "some meddling marine sentry has gone and whispered tales." "keep a stiff upper lip," dave whispered hoarsely, encouragingly. "if the officer returns don't give yourself away by your shaking." "but if he asks me?" "if you're asked a direct question," sighed dave mournfully, "you'll have to give a truthful answer." "and take my medicine!" "of course." that annoying discipline officer was now on his way back, opening doors once more. moreover, the two very wide-awake midshipmen could hear him asking questions in the rooms further along the "deck." "he's questioning each man," whispered dave. "of course," nodded dan gloomily. "it'll be our turn soon." "d-d-dave!" "what?" "i---i'm feeling ill---or i'm going to." "don't have cold feet, old fellow. take your dose like a man---if you have to." "d-dave, i wonder if i couldn't have a real sickness? couldn't it be something so you'll have to jump up and help me to hospital? couldn't i have---a---a fit?" "a midshipman subject to fits would be ordered before a medical board, and then dropped from the brigade," dave replied thoughtfully. "no; that wouldn't do." that meddling discipline officer was getting closer and closer. dave and dan could hear him asking questions in each room that he visited. and there are no "white lies" possible to a midshipman. when questioned he must answer truthfully. if the officers over him catch him in a lie they will bring him up before a court-martial, and his dismissal from the service will follow. if the officers don't catch him in a lie, but his brother midshipmen do, they won't report him, but they'll ostracize him and force him to resign. a youngster with the untruthful habit can find no happiness at the naval academy. "he---he's in the next room now," whispered dan across the few feet of space. "yes," returned dave darrin despairingly, "and i can't think of a single, blessed way of getting you out of the scrape." "woof!" sputtered midshipman dan dalzell, which was a brief way of saying, "here he comes, now, for our door." then a hand rested on the knob and the door swung open. lieutenant adams, u.s.n., entered the room. "mr. darrin, are you awake?" boomed the discipline officer. dave stirred in bed, rolled over so that he could see the lieutenant, and then replied: "yes, sir." "rise, mr. darrin, and come to attention." dave got out of bed, but purposely stumbled in doing so. this might give the impression that he had been actually awakened. "mr. darrin," demanded lieutenant adams, "have you been absent from this room tonight?" "yes, sir." "after taps was sounded?" "no, sir." "you are fully aware of what you have answered?" "yes, sir." "very good." that was all. a midshipman's word must be taken, for he is a gentleman---that is to say, a man of honor. "mr. dalzell!" poor dan stirred uneasily. "mr. dalzell!" this time the naval officer's voice was sharper. dan acted as though he were waking with difficulty. he had no intention, in the face of a direct question, of denying that he had been absent without leave. but he moved thus slowly, hoping desperately that the few seconds of time thus rained would be sufficient to bring to him some inspiration that might save him. "mr dalzell, come to attention!" dan stood up, the personification of drowsiness, saluted, then let his right hand fall at his side and stood blinking, bracing for them correct military attitude. "it's too bad to disturb the boy!" thought lieutenant adams. "surely, this young man hasn't been anywhere but in bed since taps." none the less the naval officer, as a part of his duty, put the question: "mr. dalzell, have you, since taps, been out of this room? did you return, let us say, by the route of the open window from the terrace?" midshipman dalzell stiffened. he didn't intend to betray his own honor by denying, yet he hated to let out the admission that would damage him so much. bang! it was an explosion like a crashing pistol shot, and it sounded from the corridor outside. there could be no such thing as an assault at arms in guarded bancroft hall. the first thought that flashed, excitedly, through lieutenant adams's mind was that perhaps the real delinquent guilty of the night's escapade had just shot himself. it was a wild guess, but a pistol shot sometimes starts a wilder guess. out into the corridor darted lieutenant adams. he did not immediately return to the room, so dave darrin, with rare and desperate presence of mind, closed the door. "get back into the meadow grass, danny boy," darrin whispered, giving his friend's arm a hard grip. "if the 'loot'nant' comes back, get up fearfully drowsy when he orders you. gape and look too stupid to apologize!" lieutenant adams, however, had other matters to occupy his attention. there was a genuine puzzle for him in the corridor. just out, side the door of midshipmen farley and page there lay on the floor tiny glass fragments of what had been an efficient sixty-candle-power tungsten electric bulb. it was one of the lights that illuminated the corridor. now one of these tungsten bulbs, when struck smartly, explodes with a report like that of a pistol. at this hour of the night, however, there were none passing save naval officers on duty. none other than the lieutenant himself had lately passed in the corridor. how, then, had this electric light bulb been shattered and made to give forth the sound of the explosion? "it wouldn't go up with a noise like that," murmured the lieutenant to himself. "these tungsten lights don't explode like that, except when rapped in some way. they don't blow up, when left alone. at least, that is what i have always understood." so the puzzle waxed and grew, and lieutenant adams found it too big to solve alone. "at any rate, i've questioned all the young gentlemen about the window episode, and they all deny knowledge of it," lieutenant adams told himself. "so i'll just report that fact to the o.c., and at the same time i'll tell him of the blowing up of this tungsten light." two minutes later lieutenant adams stood in the presence of lieutenant-commander henderson, the officer in charge. "so you questioned all of the midshipmen who might, by any chance, have entered by a window?" asked the o.c. "yes, sir." "and they all denied it?" "yes, sir." "did you see signs of any sort to lead you to believe that any of the midshipmen might have answered in other than the strict truth?" continued the o.c. "no, sir," replied lieutenant adams, and flushed slightly, as he went on: "of course, sir, i believe it quite impossible for a midshipman to tell an untruth." "the sentiment does you credit, lieutenant," smiled the o.c. then he fell to questioning the younger discipline officer as to the names of the midshipmen whom he had questioned. finally the o.c. came to the two names in which the reader is most interested. "darrin denied having been out after taps?" questioned lieutenant-commander henderson. "he did, sir." "did mr. dalzell also deny having been out of quarters after taps?" "he did, sir." lieutenant adams answered unhesitatingly and unblushingly. in fact, lieutenant adams would have bitten off the tip of his tongue sooner than have lied intentionally. so firmly convinced had adams been that dan was about to make a denial that now, with the incident broken in two by the report of the tungsten bulb, lieutenant adams really believed that had so denied. but dan had not, and had dave darrin been called as a witness he would been compelled to testify that dan did not deny being out. the explosion of the tungsten bulb was too great a puzzle for either officer to solve. a man was sent with a new bulb, and so that part of the affair became almost at once forgotten. dan finally fell into a genuine sleep, and so did dave darrin. in the morning dave sought out midshipman farley to inquire to whom the doughface should be returned. "give it over to me and i'll take care of it," farley replied. "say, did you hear a tungsten bulb blow up in the night!" "did it" echoed darrin devoutly. then a sudden suspicion crossed his mind. "say, how did that happen, farl?" demanded dave. "if anyone should ask you-----" began the other midshipman. "yes-----?" pressed darrin. "tell 'em---that you don't know," finished farley tantalizingly, and vanished. it was not until long after that darrin found out the explanation of the accident to the tungsten bulb. farley, during dan's absence, had been almost as much disturbed as had dave. so mr. farley was wide awake. when he heard lieutenant adams receive the message in the corridor farley began to wonder what he could do. presently he was made to rise, with page, stand at attention, and answer the questions of the discipline officer. soon after dave and dan were called up, farley, listening with his door ajar half an inch, slipped out and hit the tungsten burner a smart rap just in the nick of time to save dan dalzell's navy uniform to that young man. chapter iii bad news from west point bump! the ball, hit squarely by the toe of wolgast's football shoe, soared upward from the twenty-five-yard line. it described an arc, flying neatly over and between the goal-posts at one end of the athletic field. "that's the third one for you, wolly," murmured jetson. "you're going to be a star kicker!" "shall i try out the rest of the squad, sir?" asked wolgast, turning to lieutenant-commander parker, this year's new coach. "try out a dozen or so of the men," nodded coach, which meant, in effect: "try out men who are most likely to remain on the navy team." "jetson!" called wolgast. jet tried, but it took his third effort to make a successful kick. "you see, wolly, who is not to be trusted to make the kick in a game," remarked jetson with a rueful smile. "it shows me who may need practice more than some of the others---that's all," answered wolgast kindly. with that the ball went to dave. the first kick he missed. "i can do better than that, if you'll give me the chance," observed darrin quietly. at a nod from coach parker, dave was allowed five more trials, in each one of which he made a fair kick. "mr. darrin is all right. he won't need to practice that very often, mr. wolgast," called coach. then dan had his try. he made one out of three. "no matter, danny grin," cried page solacingly, "we love you for other things that you can do better on the field." farley made two out of three. page, though a rattling good man over on the right flank, missed all three kicks. "i'm a dub at kicking," he growled, retiring in much disgust with himself. other midshipmen had their try, with varying results. "rustlers, forward!" shouted lieutenant-commander parker. eleven young fellows who had been waiting with more or less patience now threw aside their blankets or robes and came running across the field, their eyes dancing with keen delight. "mr. wolgast, let the rustlers start the ball---and take it away from 'em in snappy fashion!" admonished coach. the game started. in the second team at annapolis there were some unusually good players---half a dozen, at least, who were destined to win a good deal of praise as subs. that year. tr-r-r-r-ill! sounded the whistle, and the ball was in motion. yet, try as he did, the captain of the rustlers made a side kick, driving the ball not far out of dave darrin's way. it was coming, now, in dan's path, but dalzell muttered in a barely audible undertone: "you, davy!" so darrin, playing left end on the navy team, darted in and caught the ball. he did not even glance sideways to learn where dan was. he knew that dalzell would be either at his back or right elbow as occasion demanded. "take it away from darry!" called pierson, captain of the rustlers. "block him!" the scores of spectators lining the sides of the field were watching with keenest interest. it was rumored that dave and dan had some new trick play hidden up their sleeves. yet, with two men squarely in the path of darrin it seemed incredible that he could get by, for the rustlers had bunched their interference skillfully at this point. "darry will have to stop!" yelled a score of voices at once, as dave bounded at his waiting opponents. "yah, yah, yah!" "wow!" "whoop!" the spectators had been treated to a sight that they never forgot. just as dave reached those who blocked him he seemed to falter. it was dan dalzell who bumped in and received the opposition alone. dan went down under it, all glory to him! but dave, in drawing back as he had done, had stepped aside like lightning, and now he had gone so far that he had no opposing end to dodge. instead, he darted straight ahead, leaving all of the forward line of the rustlers behind. but there was the back field to meet! as dave shot forward, jetson, too, smashed over the line, blocking the halfback who got in his way. straight over the line charged dave darrin, and laid the ball down. now the athletic field resounded with excited yells. annapolis had seen "a new one," and it caught the popular fancy like lightning. back the pigskin was carried, and placed for the kick. "you take it, darry," called wolgast. "you've earned it!" "take it yourself, wolly," replied dave darrin. "this is your strong point." so wolgast kicked and scored. the rustlers at first looked dismayed over it all, but in another instant a cheer had broken loose from them. it was the business of the rustlers to harry the navy team all they could---to beat the navy, if possible, for the rustlers received their name from the fact that they were expected to make the team members rustle to keep their places. just the same the rustlers were delighted to find themselves beaten by a trick so simple and splendid that it fairly took their breath away. for it was the navy team, not the rustlers, who met the enemy from the colleges and from west point. rustlers and team men alike prayed for the triumph of the navy in every game that was fought out. "you never told me that you had that trick, darry," muttered wolgast, in the rest that followed this swift, brilliant play. "i wanted to show it to you before telling you about it" laughed dave. "why?" "because i didn't know whether it were any good." "any good? why, darry, if you can get up one or two more like that you'll be the greatest gridiron tactician that the navy has ever had!" "i didn't get up that one," dave confessed modestly. "you didn't, mr. darrin?" interposed coach parker. "who did?" "mr. jetson, sir." "i helped a bit," admitted jetson, turning red as he found himself the center of admiring gazes. "dalzell and darrin helped work it out, too." "have you any more like that one, mr. darrin?" questioned coach parker. "i think we have a few, sir," dave smiled steadily. "are you ready to exhibit them, mr. darrin?" "we'll show 'em all, if you order it, sir," darrin answered respectfully. "but we'll undoubtedly spring two or three of 'em, anyway, in this afternoon's practice." "i'll be patient, then," nodded coach. "but i want a brief talk with you after practice, mr. darrin." "very good, sir." "i just want you to sketch out the new plays to me in private, that i may consider them," explained the lieutenant-commander. "yes, sir. but i am not really the originator of any of the new plays. mr. dalzell and mr. jetson have had as much to do with all of the new ones as i have, sir." "and this is darrin's last year! the navy will never have his like again," groaned one fourth classman to another. "ready to resume play!" called coach. "navy to start the ball." the play was on again, in earnest, but this time it fell to the right flank of, the navy team to stop the onward rush of the rustlers as they charged down with the ball after the navy's kick-off. in fact, not during the team practice did dave or dan get a chance to show another of their new tricks. "just our luck!" grunted many of the spectators. meanwhile dave, dan and jet got out of their togs, and through with their shower baths as quickly as they could, for lieutenant-commander parker was on hand, awaiting them impatiently. until close to supper call did the coach hold converse with these three men of the navy's left flank. then the lieutenant-commander went to midshipman wolgast, who was waiting. "mr. wolgast, i see the army's banner trailed low in the dust this year," laughed coach. "these young gentlemen have been explaining to me some new plays that will cause wailing and gnashing of teeth at west point." "i'm afraid, sir, that you forget one thing," smiled darrin. "what is that, sir?" demanded coach. "why, sir, the army has prescott and holmes, beyond a doubt, for they played last year." "i saw prescott and holmes last year," nodded mr. parker. "but they didn't have a thing to compare with what you've just been explaining to me." "may i remark, sir, that that was last year?" suggested dave. "then you think that prescott and holmes may have developed some new plays." "i'd be amazed, sir, if they hadn't done so. and i've tried to have the navy always bear in mind, sir, that dalzell and myself learned everything we know of football under dick prescott, who, for his weight, i believe to be the best football player in the united states!" "you're not going to get cold feet, are you, mr. darrin?" laughed lieutenant-commander parker. "no, sir; but, on the other hand, i don't want to underestimate the enemy." "you don't seem likely to commit that fault, mr. darrin. for my part," went on coach, "i'm going to feel rather satisfied that prescott and holmes, of the army, won't be able to get up anything that will equal or block the new plays you've been describing to me." dave and dan were more than usually excited as they lingered in their room, awaiting the call to supper formation. farley and page, all ready to respond to the call, were also in the room. "i hope old dick and greg haven't got anything new that will stop us!" glowed dan dalzell. "it's just barely possible, of course," assented darrin, "that they haven't." "if they haven't," chuckled farley gleefully, "then we scuttle the army this year." "wouldn't it be truly great," laughed page, "to see the great prescott go down in the dust of defeat. ha, ha! i can picture, right now, the look of amazement on his army face!" "we mustn't laugh too soon," dave warned his hearers. "don't you want to see the redoubtable prescott shoved into the middle of next year?" challenged midshipman page. "oh, yes; of course. yet that's not because he's prescott, for good old dick is one of the most precious friends i have in the world," dave answered earnestly. "i want to see prescott beaten this year, and i want to have a hand in doing it---simply for the greater glory of the navy!" "well," grunted page, "that's good enough for me." "we'll trail soldier prescott in the dust!" was a gleeful boast that circulated much through the naval academy during the few succeeding days. even dave became infected with it, for he was a loyal navy man to the very core. he began to think much of every trick of play that could possibly help to retire dick prescott to the background---all for the fame of the navy and not for the hurt of his friend. dave even dreamed of it at night. as for dalzell, he caught the infection, proclaiming: "we're out, this year, just to beat old prescott and holmes!" yet readers of the high school boys' series, who know the deep friendship that had existed, and always would, between prescott and holmes on the one side, and darrin and dalzell, on the other, do not need to be told that this frenzied feeling had in it nothing personal. "if you two go on," laughed midshipman farley, one evening after release, "you'll both end up with hating your old-time chums." "don't you believe it!" retorted dave darrin almost sharply. "this is just a matter between the two service academies. what we want is to show the country that the navy can put up an eleven that can walk all around the army on franklin field." "a lot the country cares about what we do!" laughed page. "true," admitted dare. "a good many people do seem to forget that there are any such american institutions as the military and the naval academies. yet there are thousands of americans who are patriotic enough to be keenly interested in all that we do." "this is going to be a bad year for army friends," chuckled farley. "and for the feelings of cadets prescott and holmes," added page with a grimace. as the practice went on the spirits of the navy folks went up to fever heat. it was plain that, this year, the navy eleven was to make history in the world of sports. "poor old dick!" sighed darrin one day, as the members of the squad were togging to go on to the field. "why?" dan demanded. "because, in spite of myself, i find that i am making a personal matter of the whole business. dan, i'm obliged to be candid with myself. it has come to the point that it is prescott and holmes that i want to beat!" "same case here," dan admitted readily. "they gave us a trouncing last year, and we're bound to pass it back to 'em." "i believe i'd really lose all interest in the game, if dick and greg didn't play on the army this year." "i think i'd feel the same way about it," agreed dan. "but never fear---they will play." two days later dan finished his bath and dressing, after football practice, to find that dave had already left ahead of him. dan followed to their quarters in bancroft hall, to find dave pacing the floor, the picture of despair. "dan!" cried darrin sharply. "this letter is from dick. he doesn't play this year!" "don't tell me anything funny, like that, when i've got a cracked lip," remonstrated midshipman dalzell. "dick doesn't play, i tell you---which means that greg won't, either. a lot of boobs at the military academy have sent dick to coventry for something that he didn't do. dan, i don't care a hang about playing this year---we can't beat prescott and holmes, for they won't be there!" chapter iv dave's work goes stale "aye, you're not---not joking?" demanded dan dalzell half piteously. "do you see any signs of mirth in my face?" demanded dave darrin indignantly. rap-tap! right after the summons midshipman farley and page entered the room. "say, who's dead?" blurted out farley, struck by the looks of consternation on the faces of their hosts. "tell him, dave," urged dan. "prescott and holmes won't play on this year's army team," stated darrin. "whoop!" yelled farley gleefully. "and that was what you're looking so mighty solemn about? cheer up, boy! it's good news." "great!" seconded midshipman page with enthusiasm. "i tell you, fellows," spoke dave solemnly, "it takes all the joy out of the army-navy game." "since when did winning kill joy?" demanded farley aghast. "why, with prescott and holmes out of it the navy will get a fit of crowing that will last until after christmas!" "it makes the victory too cheap," contended darrin. "a victory is a victory," quoth midshipman page, "and the only fellow who can feel cheap about it is the fellow who doesn't win. cheer up, davy. it's all well enough to wallop a stray college, here and there, but the one victory that sinks in deep and does our hearts good is the one we carry away from the army. whoop! i could cry for joy." "but why won't prescott and holmes play this year?" asked farley, his face radiant with the satisfaction that the news had given him. "because the corps has sent prescott to coventry for something that i'm certain the dear old fellow never did," darrin replied. "lucky accident!" muttered farley. "but the corps will repent, when they find their football hope gone," predicted page, his face losing much of its hitherto joyous expression. "no! no such luck," rejoined midshipman darrin. "if the brigade, here, sent a fellow to coventry for what they considered cause, do you mean to tell me that they'd take the fellow out of coventry just to get a good player on the eleven?" "no, of course, not," page admitted. "then do you imagine that the west point men are any more lax in their views of corps honor?" pressed dave. "to be sure they are not---they can't be." "then there's only a chance in a thousand that dick prescott will, by any lucky accident, be restored to favor in the corps---at least, in time to play on this year's eleven. if he doesn't play, holmes simply won't play. so that takes all the interest out of this year's army-navy game." "not if the navy wins," contended midshipman page. "bosh, there's neither profit nor honor in the navy winning, unless it's against the best men that the army can put forth," retorted dave darrin stubbornly. "by the great dewey, i'm afraid nine tenths of my enthusiasm for the game this year has been killed by the miserable news that has come in." within less than five minutes after the midshipmen had seated themselves around the scores of tables in the mess hall, the news had flown around that prescott and holmes were to be counted as out of the army eleven for this year. here and there suppressed cheers greeted the announcement the bulk of the midshipmen, however, were much of dave darrin's opinion that there was little glory in beating less than the best team that the army could really put forth. "darry looks as though he had just got back from a funeral," remarked one member of the third class to another youngster. "i don't blame him," replied the one so addressed. "but he's all the more sure of winning over the army this year." "i don't believe either of you youngsters know darrin as well as i do," broke in a second classman. "what i'm afraid of is, if prescott and holmes don't play with the soldiers, then darry will lose interest in the game to such a degree that even army dubs will be able to take his shoestrings away from him. danny doesn't enjoy fighting fourth-raters. it's the big game that he enjoys going after. why, i'm told that he had simply set his heart on pushing prescott and holmes all the way across franklin field this year." readers who are anxious to know why dick prescott, one of the finest of american youths, had been sent to coventry by his comrades at the united states military academy, will find it all set forth in the concluding volume of the west point series, entitled _"dick prescott's fourth year at west point."_ strangely enough, the first effect of this news from west point was to send the navy eleven somewhat "to the bad." that is to say, dave darrin, despite his best endeavors, seemed to go stale from the first hour when he knew that he was not to meet dick prescott on the gridiron. "mr. darrin, what ails you?" demanded coach kindly, at the end of the second practice game after that. "i don't know, sir." "you must brace up." "yes, sir." "you seem to have lost all ambition. no; i won't just say that. but you appear, mr. darrin, either to have lost some of your snap or ambition, or else you have gone unaccountably stale." "i realize my defects, sir, and i am trying very, very hard to overcome them." "are you ill at ease over any of your studies?" persisted coach. "no, sir; it seems to me that the fourth year studies are the easiest in the whole course." "they are not, mr. darrin. but you have had the advantage of three hard years spent in learning how to study, and so your present course appears rather easy to you. are you sleeping well?" "yes, sir." "eating well?" "splendid appetite, sir." "hm! i shall soon have a chance to satisfy myself on that point, mr. darrin. the day after to-morrow the team goes to training table. have you any idea, mr. darrin, what is causing you to make a poorer showing?" "i have had one very great disappointment, sir. but i'd hate to think that a thing like that could send me stale." "oh, a disappointment?" "yes, sir," dave went on frankly. "you see, sir, i have been looking forward, most eagerly, to meeting prescott and downing him with the tricks that jetson, dalzell and i have been getting up." "oh! prescott of the army team?" "yes, sir." "i think i heard something about his having been sent to coventry at the military academy." "but, mr. darrin, you are not going to fail us just because the army loses a worthy player or two?" exclaimed lieutenant-commander parker in astonishment. "probably that isn't what ails me, sir," dave answered flushing. "after all, sir, probably i'm just beginning to go stale. if i can't shake it off no doubt i had better be retired from the navy eleven." "don't you believe it!" almost shouted coach. "mr. darrin, you will simply have to brace! give us all the best that's in you, and don't for one instant allow any personal disappointments to unfit you. you'll do that, won't you?" "yes, sir." darrin certainly tried hard enough. yet just as certainly the navy's boosters shook their heads when they watched darrin's work on the field. "he has gone stale," they said. "the very worst thing that could happen to the navy this year!" then came the first game of the season---with lehigh. darrin roused himself all he could, and his playing was very nearly up to what might have been expected of him---though not quite. the visitors got away with a score of eight to five against the navy. next week the lehighs went to west point and suffered defeat at the hands of the army. the news sent gloom broadcast through the naval academy. "we get beaten by one of the smaller colleges, that west point can trim," was the mournful comment. it did, indeed, look bad for the navy! chapter v dan hands himself bad money as the season went on it was evident that dave darrin was slowly getting back to form. yet coach was not wholly satisfied, nor was anyone else who had the triumph of the navy eleven at heart. three more games had been played, and two of them were won by the navy. next would come stanford college, a hard lot to beat. the navy tried to bolster up its own hopes; a loss to stanford would mean the majority of games lost out of the first five. true, the news from west point was not wholly disconcerting to the navy. the army that year had some strong players, it was true; still, the loss of prescott and holmes was sorely felt. word came, too, in indirect ways, that there was no likelihood whatever that the coventry against cadet dick prescott would be lifted. it was the evident purpose of the corps of cadets, for fancied wrongs, to ostracize dick prescott until he found himself forced to resign from the united states military academy. november came in. stanford came. coach talked to dave darrin steadily for ten minutes before the navy eleven trotted out on to the field. stanford left annapolis with small end of the score, in a six-to-two game, and the navy was jubilant. "darrin has come back pretty close to his right form," was the general comment. for that saturday evening dan dalzell, being now "on privilege" again, asked and received leave to visit in town---this the more readily because his work on the team had prevented his going out of the yard that afternoon. dave, too, requested and secured leave to go into town, though he stated frankly that he had no visit to make, and wanted only a stroll away from the academy grounds. darrin went most of the way to the prestons. "come right along through, and meet miss preston," urged dan. "if you ask it as a favor i will, old chap," dave replied. "no; i thought the favor would be to you." "so it would, ordinarily," darrin replied gallantly. "but to-night i just want to stroll by myself." "ta-ta, then." the grin on dan dalzell's face as he turned away from his chum was broader than usual. dan was thinking that, this time, though his call must be a short one, he would be in no danger on his return. he could report unconcernedly just before taps. "no doughface need apply to-night," chuckled dan. "but davy was surely one awfully good fellow to get me through that other scrape as he did." all thought of football fled from dan dalzell's brain as he pulled the bellknob at the preston house. after all this was to be but the third meeting. dan fancied, however, that absence had made his heart fonder. since the night when he had frenched it over the wall dan had received two notes from miss preston, in answer to his own letters, but the last note was now ten days' old. "may i see mrs. preston?" asked dan, as a colored servant opened the door and admitted him. this was dan's correct idea of the way to call on a young woman to whom he was not engaged, but half hoped to be, some day. the colored maid soon came back. "mrs. preston is so very busy, sah, that she asks to be excused, sah," reported the servant, coming into the parlor where dan sat on the edge of a chair. "but mistah preston will be down right away, sah." a moment later a heavier step was heard on the stairway. then may preston's uncle came into the parlor. "you will pardon mrs. preston not coming down stairs to-night, i know, mr. dalzell," said the man of the house, as he and the midshipman shook hands. "the truth is, we are very much occupied to-night." "i had not dreamed of it, or i would not have called," murmured dan reddening. "i trust you will pardon me." "there is no need of pardon, for you have not offended," smiled mr. preston. "i shall be very glad to spare you half an hour, if i can interest, you." "you are very kind, sir," murmured dan. "and miss preston----" "my niece?" "yes, sir." "it is mainly on my niece's account that we are so busy to-night," smiled the host. "she is not ill, sir?" asked dan in alarm. "ill! oh, dear me, no!" mr. preston laughed most heartily. "no; she is not in the least ill, mr. dalzell, though, on monday, she may feel a bit nervous toward noon," "nervous---on monday?" asked dan vaguely. it seemed rank nonsense that her uncle should be able to predict her condition so definitely on another day. "why, yes; monday is to be the great day, of course." "great day, sir? and why 'of course'?" inquired dan, now as much interested as he was mystified. "why, my niece is to be married monday at high noon." "married?" gasped midshipman dalzell, utterly astounded and discomfited by such unlooked-for news. "yes; didn't you know miss preston was engaged to be married?" "i---i certainly did not," dan stammered. "why, she spoke to you much of 'oscar'-----" "her brother?" "no; the man who will be her husband on monday," went on mr. preston blandly. being quite near-sighted the elder man had not discovered dan's sudden emotion. "that is what occupies us to-night. we leave on the first car for baltimore in the morning. mrs. preston is now engaged over our trunks." "i---i am very certain, then, that i have come at an unseasonable time," dan answered hastily. "i did not know---which fact, i trust, will constitute my best apology for having intruded at such a busy season, mr. preston." "there has been no intrusion, and therefore no apology is needed, sir," replied mr. preston courteously. dan got out, somehow, without staggering, or without having his voice quiver. once in the street he started along blindly, his fists clenched. "so that's the way she uses me, is it?" he demanded of himself savagely. "plays with me, while all the time the day for her wedding draws near. she must be laughing heartily over---my greenness! oh, confound all girls, anyway!" it was seldom that midshipman dalzell allowed himself to get in a temper. he had been through many a midshipman fight without having had his ugliness aroused. but just now dan felt humiliated, sore in spirit and angry all over---especially with all members of the gentler sex. he even fancied that mr. preston was at that moment engaged in laughing over the verdant midshipman. as a matter of fact, mr. preston was doing nothing of the sort. mr. preston had not supposed that dan's former call had been intended as anything more than a pleasant social diversion. the prestons supposed that every one knew that their niece was betrothed to an excellent young fellow. so, at this particular moment, mr. preston was engaged in sitting on a trunk, while his wife tried to turn the key in the lock. neither of them was favoring midshipman dalzell with as much as a thought. "why on earth is it that all girls are so tricky?" dan asked himself savagely, taking it for granted that all girls are "tricky" where admirers are concerned. "oh, my, what a laugh davy will have over me, when he hears!" was dan's next bitter thought, as he strode along. having just wronged all girls in his own estimation of them, dan was now proceeding to do his own closest chum an injustice. for dave darrin was too thorough a gentleman to laugh over any unfortunate's discomfiture. "what a lucky escape i had from getting better acquainted with that girl!" was dalzell's next thought. "why, with one as wholly deceitful as she is there can be no telling where it would all have ended. she might have drawn me into troubles that would have resulted in my having to leave the service!" dan had not the least desire to do any one an injustice, but just now he was so astounded and indignant that his mind worked violently rather than keenly. "serves me right!" sputtered dalzell, at last. "a man in the navy has no business to think about the other sex. he should give his whole time and thought to his profession and his country. that's what i'll surely do after this." having reached this conclusion, the midshipman should have been more at peace with himself, but he wasn't. he had been sorely, even if foolishly wounded in his own self esteem, and it was bound to hurt until the sensation wore off. "you'll know more, one of these days, danny boy," was his next conclusion. "and what you know will do you a lot more good, too, if it doesn't include any knowledge whatever of girls---except the disposition and the ability to keep away from 'em! i suppose there are a few who wouldn't fool a fellow in this shameless way but it will be a heap safer not to try to find any of the few!" dan's head was still down, and he was walking as blindly as ever, when he turned a corner and ran squarely into some one. "why don't you look out where you're going?" demanded that some one. "why don't you look out yourself?" snapped midshipman dalzell, and the next instant a heavy hand was laid upon him. chapter vi the "forgot" path to trouble "here, confound you! i'll teach you to-----" "teach me how to walk the way you were going when i stopped you?" demanded the same voice, and a harder grip was taken on dalzell's shoulder. in his misery dan was not at all averse to fighting, if a good excuse were offered. so his first move was not to look up, but to wrest him self out of that grip, haul away and put up his guard. "dave darrin!" gasped midshipman dan, using his eyes at last. dave was laughing quietly. "danny boy, you shouldn't cruise without lights and a bow watch!" admonished dave. "what sent your wits wool gathering? you look terribly upset over something." "do i?" asked dan, looking guilty. "you certainly do. and see here, is this the way to the preston house?" "no; it's the way away from it." "but you had permission to visit at the prestons." "that isn't any news to me," grunted dalzell. "then---pardon me---but why aren't you there?" "are you the officer of the day?" demanded dan moodily. "no; merely your best friend." "i beg your pardon, dave. i am a grouch tonight." "wasn't miss preston at home." "i---i don't know." "don't know? haven't you been there?" "yes; but i didn't ask-----" as dan hesitated dave rested both hands on his chum's shoulders, looking sharply into that young man's eyes. "danny, you act as though you were _loco_. (crazy). what on earth is up? you went to call on miss preston. you reached the house, and evidently you left there again. but you don't know whether miss preston was in; you forgot to ask. let me look in at the answer to the riddle." "dave---miss preston is going to be married!" "most girls are going to be," darrin replied quietly. "do you mean that miss preston is going to marry some one else than yourself?" "yes." "soon?" "monday noon." dave darrin whistled. "so this is the meaning of your desperation? danny boy, if you're stung, i'm sincerely sorry for you." "i don't quite know whether i want any sympathy," dan replied, though he spoke rather gloomily. "perhaps i'm to be congratulated." he laughed mirthlessly, then continued: "when a girl will treat a fellow like that, isn't it just as well to find out her disposition early?" "perhaps," nodded darrin. "but danny, do you mean to say that you attempted to pay your call without an appointment?" "what was the need of an appointment?" demanded dan. "miss preston invited me to call at any time---just drop in. now, she must know that saturday evening is a midshipman's only chance at this time of the year." "nevertheless, you were wrong at that point, in the game," dave went on gravely. "unless you're on the best of terms with a young lady, don't attempt to call on her without having learned that your purpose will be agreeable to her. and so miss preston, while receiving your calls, has been engaged to some one else?" dan nodded, adding, "she might have given me some hint, i should think." "i don't know about that," darrin answered thoughtfully. "another good view of it would be that a young lady's private affairs are her own property. didn't she ever mention the lucky fellow to you?" "it seems that she did," dalzell assented. "but i thought, all the time, that she was talking about her brother." "why should you especially think it was her brother whom she was mentioning?" "because she seemed so mighty fond of the fellow," dan grunted. dave choked a strong impulse to laugh. "danny boy," he remarked, "girls, very often, are mighty fond, also, of the fellow to whom they're engaged." "why did she let me call?" demanded dan gloomily. "how often have you called?" inquired midshipman darrin. "once, before to-night." "only once? then, see here, danny! don't be a chump. when you call on a girl once, and ask if you may call some other time, how on earth is she to guess that you're an intended rival of the man she has promised to marry?" "but-----" that was as far as midshipman dalzell got. he halted, wondering what he really could say next. "dan, i'm afraid you've got an awful lot to learn about girls, and also about the social proprieties to be observed in calling on them. as to miss preston receiving a call from you, and permitting you to call again, that was something that any engaged girl might do properly enough. miss preston came to annapolis, possibly to learn something about midshipman life. she met you and allowed you to call. very likely she permitted others to call. from what you've told me i can't see that she treated you unfairly in any way; i don't believe miss preston ever guessed that you had any other than the merest social reasons for calling." "and i'm not sure that i did have," grunted dalzell. dave shot another swift look into his chum's face before he said: "danny boy, your case is a light one. you'll recover speedily. your vanity has been somewhat stung, but your heart won't have a scar in three days from now." "what makes you think you know so much about that?" insisted dan, drawing himself up with a dignified air. "it isn't hard to judge, when it's another fellow's case," smiled darrin. "i believe that, at this minute, i understand your feelings better than you do yourself." "i don't know about my feelings," proclaimed dan gloomily still, "but i do know something about my experience and conclusions. no more girls for me!" "good idea, danny boy," cried darrin, slapping his friend on the back. "that's the best plan for you, too." "why?" "because you haven't head enough to understand girls and their ways." "i don't want to." "good! i hope you will keep in that frame of mind. and now, let's talk of something serious." "of what, then?" inquired dalzell, as the two started to walk along together. "football." "is that more serious than girls?" demanded dan dalzell, suspicious that his friend was making fun of him. "it's safer, at any rate, for you. why, if a girl happens to say, 'delighted to meet you, mr. dalzell,' you expect her to give up all other thoughts but you, and to be at home every saturday evening. no, no, danny. the company of the fair is not for you. keep to things you understand better---such as football." dan dalzell's eyes shot fire. he was certain, now, that his chum was poking fun at him, and this, in his present temper, dan could not quite endure. "so, since we've dropped the subject of girls," dave continued placidly, "what do you think are our real chances for the balance of this season?" "they'd be a lot improved," grunted dan, "if you'd get the grip on yourself that you had at the beginning of the season." "i know i'm not playing in as good form as i had hoped to," dave nodded. "the worst of it is, i can't find out the reason." "a lot of the fellows think you've lost interest since you found that you won't have the great prescott to play against in the army-navy game," dan hinted. "yes; i know. i've heard that suspicion hinted at." "isn't it true?" challenged dalzell. "to the best of my knowledge and belief, it isn't. why, danny, it would be absurd to think that i couldn't play right now, just because dick isn't to be against us on franklin field." "i know it would sound absurd," dan replied. "but let us put it another way, dave. all along you've been working yourself up into better form, because you knew that, otherwise, it was very doubtful whether the navy could beat the army on the gridiron. so you had worked yourself up to where you played a better game than ever dick prescott thought of doing. then you hear that poor dick is in coventry, and therefore not on the team. you haven't got the great army man to beat, and, just for that reason, you slack up on your efforts." "i am not slacking up," retorted dave with some spirit. "i am doing the best that is in me, though i admit i appear to have gone stale." "and so something will happen," predicted dan. "what will that be?" "between now and the game with the army, prescott's comrades will find what boobs they've been, and they'll lift the coventry. prescott and holmes will get into the army team at the last moment, and the fellows from west point will ride rough-shod over the navy, just as they did last year." "do you really think that will happen?" demanded darrin eagerly. "do you really believe that dear old dick will get out of that coventry and back on the army eleven?" "well," returned midshipman dalzell soberly, "i'll venture a prediction. if you don't get a brace on your playing soon, then it'll be regular navy luck for prescott to come to philadelphia and put on his togs. then the soldiers will drag us down the field to the tune of 46 to 2." "i'd sooner he killed on the field than see that happen!" cried midshipman dave, his eyes flashing. "then don't let it happen! you're the only star on our team, dave, that isn't up to the mark. if we lose to the army, this year, prescott or no prescott, it will be your fault, dave darrin. you're not one of our weak spots, really but you're not as strong as you ought to be and can be if you'll only brace." "brace!" quivered dave. "won't i, though?" "good! just stick to that." "dan!" darrin halted his chum before a store where dry goods and notions were sold. "let's go in here-----" "what, for?" midshipman dalzell asked in astonishment. "i want to make a purchase," replied dave soberly. "danny boy, i'm going to buy you a hat pin---one at least ten inches long. you're to slip it in, somewhere in your togs. when you catch me lagging---practice or game---just jab that hat pin into me as far as you can send it." "bosh!" retorted dan impatiently. "come along." dave submitted, in patient silence, to being led away from the store. for some moments the chums strolled along together in silence. "now, speaking of miss preston," began dan, breaking the silence at last, "she-----" "drop that! get back to football, danny---it's safer," warned dave darrin. "but-----" "hold on, i tell you! you had almost recovered, danny, in the short space of five minutes. now, don't bring on a relapse by opening up the old sore. i shall soon begin to believe it was your heart that was involved, instead of your vanity." "oh, hang girls, then!" exploded dan. "couldn't think of it," urged dave gently. "that wouldn't be chivalrous, and even a midshipman is required to be a gentleman at all times. so-----" "good evening, gentlemen," spoke a pleasant voice. the midshipmen glanced up, then promptly brought up their hands in salute to an officer whom they would otherwise have passed without seeing. that officer was lieutenant adams, discipline officer. "are you enjoying your stroll, mr. darrin?" asked mr. adams. "very much, sir; thank you." "and you, mr. dalzell. but let me see---wasn't your liberty for the purpose of paying a visit?" "yes, sir," dan answered, coloring. "and you are strolling, instead?" "yes, sir; the person on whom i went to call was not there." "then, mr. darrin, you should have returned to bancroft hall, and reported your return." "yes, sir; i should have done that," dan confessed in confusion. "the truth is, sir, it hadn't occurred to me." "return at once, mr. dalzell, and place yourself on report for strolling without permission." "yes, sir." both midshipmen saluted, then turned for the shortest cut to maryland avenue, and thence to the gate at the end of that thoroughfare. "ragged!" muttered dan. "and without the slightest intention of doing anything improper." "it was improper, though," dave replied quickly, "and both you and i should have thought of it in time." "i really forgot." "forgot to think, you mean, dan, and that's no good excuse in bodies of men where discipline rules. really, i should have gone on report, too." "but you had liberty to stroll in town." "yes; but i'm guilty in not remembering to remind you of your plain duty." lieutenant adams had not in the least enjoyed ordering dan to place himself on report. the officer had simply done his duty. to the average civilian it may seem that dan dalzell had done nothing very wrong in taking a walk when he found the purpose of his call frustrated; but discipline, when it imposes certain restrictions on a man, cannot allow the man himself to be the judge of whether he may break the restrictions. if the man himself is to be the judge then discipline ceases to exist. "so i've got to stick myself on pap, and accept a liberal handful of demerits, all on account of a girl?" grumbled dan, as the chums turned into the road leading to bancroft hall." "that is largely because you couldn't get the girl out of your head," dave rejoined. "didn't i tell you, danny, that you hadn't head enough to give any of your attention to the other sex?" "it's tough to get those demerits, though," contended dan. "i imagine there'll be a large allowance of them, and in his fourth year a fellow can't receive many demerits without having to get out of the academy. one or two more such scrapes, and i'll soon be a civilian, instead of an officer in the navy!" "see here, dan; i'll offer an explanation that you can make truthfully. just state, when you're called up, that you and i were absorbed talking football, and that you really forgot to turn in the right direction while your mind was so full of navy football. that may help some." "yes; it will---not!" dan dalzell passed into the outer room of the officer in charge, picked up a blank and filled it out with the report against himself. dave was waiting outside as dan came out from the disagreeable duty of reporting himself. "hang the girls!" dalzell muttered again disgustedly. chapter vii dan's eyes jolt his wits dan dalzell, on the point of stepping out of bancroft hall, wheeled like a flash, and bounded back against farley, jetson and page. "don't look!" whispered dan hoarsely. "duck!" "what on earth is the matter?" demanded midshipman darrin, eyeing his chum sharply. "i---i don't know what it is," muttered dan, after he had backed his friends some feet from the entrance. "what does it look like?" asked farley. "something like a messenger boy," returned dan. "surely, you're not afraid of a messenger boy with a telegram," laughed darrin. "little chance that the message is for you, at any rate." "but---it's got a naval uniform on, i tell you," warned dan. "no; you hadn't told us. what is it---another midshipman?" "not by a jugful!" dan sputtered. "it's wearing an officer's uniform." "then undoubtedly you chanced to glance at an officer of the navy," darrin replied, sarcastically soothing. "brace up, dan." "but he's only a kid!" remonstrated dan. "and he wear a lieutenant's insignia!" "bosh! some officers are quite boyish-looking," remarked farley. "come on out, fellows; i haven't forgotten how to salute an officer when i see one." the others, except dan, started briskly for the entrance. as for dalzell, he brought up the rear, grumbling: "all right; you fellows go on out and see whether you see him. if you don't, then i'm going to report myself at hospital without delay. really, i can't swear that i saw---it." but at that moment the object of dan's alarm reached one of the doors of the entrance of bancroft hall and stepped briskly inside. this new-comer's glance fell upon the knot of midshipmen, and he glanced at them inquiringly, as though to see whether these young men intended to salute him. surely enough, the newcomer was decidedly boyish-looking, yet he wore the fatigue uniform and insignia of a lieutenant of the united states navy. if he were masquerading, here was a dangerous place into which to carry his antics. the five midshipmen brought their right hands hesitatingly to the visors of their uniform caps. the very youthful lieutenant smartly returned their salutes, half smiled, then turned, in search of the officer in charge. "scoot! skip! let's escape!" whispered dan hoarsely, and all five midshipmen were speedily out in the open. "now, did you fellows really see---it---or did i have a delusion that i saw you all salute when i did?" "i saw it," rejoined farley, "and i claim it, if no one else wants it." "the service is going to the dogs," growled page, "when they give away a lieutenant's uniform with a pound of tea!" "what ails you fellows?" rebuked dave darrin. "the man who passed us was a sure-enough lieutenant in the navy." "him?" demanded midshipman dalzell, startled out of his grip on english grammar. "a lieutenant? that---that---kid?" "he's a lieutenant of the navy, all right," dave insisted. "you're wrong," challenged page. "don't you know, dave, that a man must be at least twenty-one years old in order to hold an officer's commission in the navy?" "that man who received our salutes is a naval, officer," dave retorted. "i don't know anything about his age." "why, that little boy can't be a day over seventeen," gasped dan dalzell. "anyway, fellows, i'm overjoyed that you all saw him! that takes a load off my mind as to my mental condition." "whoever he is, he's a navy officer, and he has trod the bridge in many a gale," contended dave. "small and young as he looks, that man had otherwise every bit of the proper appearance of a navy officer." "what a joke it will be on you," grinned page, "when you find the watchman dragging the little fellow away to turn over to the doctors from the asylum!" the midshipmen were on their way to report for afternoon football work. as they had started a few minutes early, and had time to spare, they had now halted on the way, and were standing on the sidewalk in front of the big and handsome barracks building. "can you fellows still use your eyes?" dave wanted to know. "if you can, look toward the steps of bancroft." the officer in charge was coming out. at his side was the very youthful looking one in the lieutenant's uniform. "the o.c. is decoying the stranger away to turn him over to the watchmen without violence," guessed midshipman farley. three officers were approaching. these the five midshipmen turned and saluted. in another moment all of the five save dave darrin received a sharp jolt. for the o.c. had halted and was introducing the three navy officers to the youthful one. "this is lieutenant benson, the submarine expert of whom you have heard so much," said the o.c., loudly enough for the amazed middies to hear. "sub---sub----say, did you fellows hear that?" begged dan hoarsely. "yes," assented dave calmly. "and say, you fellows are a fine lot to be serving here. you all remember mr. benson. he was here last year---he and his two submarine friends. we didn't see them, because our class didn't go out on the pollard submarine boat that was here last year. but you remember them, just the same. you remember, too, that mr. benson and his friends were hazed by some of the men in last year's youngster class. you heard about that? a lot of the fellows came near getting ragged, but benson didn't take offense, and his quick wit pulled that lot of last year's youngsters out of a bad fix." "then benson and his mates are real people?" demanded dan, still doubtful, if his voice were an indication. "yes; and benson is a real submarine expert, too, even if he is a boy," dave went on. "then he is only a boy?" "he's seventeen or eighteen." "then how can he be a lieutenant?" demanded dalzell, looking more bewildered. "he isn't," dave answered simply. "but the o.c. introduced him that way." "and quite properly," answered darrin, whereat his companions stared at him harder than ever. "let's walk along," proposed dave, "and i'll tell you the little that i know, or think i know, about the matter. of course, you fellows all know about the pollard submarine boats? the government owns a few of them now, and is going to buy a lot more of the pollard craft." "but that kid officer?" insisted dan. "if you'll wait i'll come to that. benson, his name is; jack benson he's commonly called. he and two boy friends got in on the ground floor at the farnum shipyard. they were boys of considerable mechanical skill, and they found their forte in the handling of submarine boats. they've done some clever, really wonderful feats with submarines. farnum, the owner of the yard, trusted these boys, after a while, to show off the fine points of the craft to our navy officers and others." "but what has that to do with giving benson a commission in the navy?" demanded farley. "i'm coming to that," dave replied. "as i've heard the yarn, benson and his two boy friends attracted attention even from the european governments. the germans and some other powers even made them good offers to desert this country and go abroad as submarine experts. our navy folks thought enough of benson and his chums to want to save them for this country. so the secretary of the navy offered all three the rank and command of officers without the actual commissions. as soon as these young men, the submarine boys as they are called, are twenty-one, the navy department will bestir itself to give them actual commissions and make them real staff or line officers." "so that those kids will rank us in the service?" grumbled dan. "well, up to date," replied dave quietly, "the submarine boys have done more for their country than we have. of course, in the end, we may be admirals in the navy, even before they're captains. who can tell?" "i wonder what benson is doing here?" murmured farley. "lieutenant benson," dave corrected him, "is probably here on official business. if you want exact details, suppose we stop at the superintendent's house and ask him." "quit your kidding," grinned farley. "so i've got to say 'sir,' if that boy speaks to me?" asked dan. "i think it would be better," smiled darrin, "if you're anxious to escape another handful of demerits." by the time that the football squad began to assemble on the football field, dan and his friends found that some of the midshipmen were full of information about the famous submarine boys. readers who may not be familiar with the careers of lieutenant jack benson, ensign hal hastings, and ensign eph somers are referred to the volumes of the _submarine boys' series_. in _"the submarine boys and the middies"_ will be found the account of the hazing that jack, hal and eph had received at the hands of midshipmen. benson and his two friends, with a crew of four men, were now at the naval academy, having arrived at two o'clock that afternoon, for the purpose of giving the first classmen instruction aboard the latest pollard submarine, the "dodger." but play was called, and that stopped, for the time being, all talk about the submarine boys. chapter viii the prize trip on the "dodger" the following afternoon, at the hour for instruction in the machine shops, the entire first class was marched down to the basin, where the "dodger" lay. squad by squad the midshipmen were taken on board the odd-looking little craft that was more at home beneath the waves than on them. while the exact place and scale of importance of submarine war craft has not been determined as yet, boats of the pollard type are certainly destined to play a tremendously important part in the naval wars of the future. hence all of the midshipmen were deeply interested in what they saw and were told. some of these first classmen were twenty-four years of age, others from twenty to twenty-two. hence, with many of them, there was some slight undercurrent of feeling over the necessity for taking instruction from such very youthful instructors as jack benson, hal hastings and eph somers. had any of this latter trio been inclined to put on airs there might have been some disagreeable feeling engendered in the breasts of some of the middies. but jack and his associates were wholly modest, pleasant and helpful. beginning on the following day, it was announced, the "dodger" would take a squad of six midshipmen down chesapeake bay for practical instruction in submarine work, both above and below the surface of the water. this instruction would continue daily, with squads of six midshipmen on board, until all members of the first class had received thorough drilling. "that's going to be a mighty pleasant change from the usual routine here," whispered farley in dave's ear. "it surely will," darrin nodded. "it will be even better fun than football." "with no chance for the army to beat us out on this game," farley replied slyly. at last it came the turn of dave, dan, farley, page, jetson and wolgast to go aboard the "dodger." "gentlemen," announced lieutenant jack benson, "ensign somers will show you all that is possible about the deck handling and the steering below the surface, and then ensign hastings will explain the mechanical points of this craft. when both are through, if you have any questions. i will endeavor to answer them." in a few minutes the "showing" had been accomplished. "any questions, gentlemen?" inquired lieutenant benson. dave was ready with three; farley had four and jetson two. lieutenant benson looked particularly pleased as he answered. then, at last, he inquired: "what's your name?" "darrin, sir," dave replied. the other midshipmen present were asked their names, and gave them. "gentlemen," continued youthful lieutenant benson, "this present squad impresses me as being more eager and interested in submarines than any of the squads that have come aboard." "thank you, sir," dave replied for himself and the others. "are you really exceptionally interested?" inquired benson. "i think we are, sir," dave responded. "on saturday of each week, as long as the 'dodger' is at annapolis," went on benson, "we intend to take out one of the best squads. we shall drop down the bay, not returning, probably before sunday noon. would you gentlemen like to be the first squad to go on the longer cruise---next saturday?" the faces of all six midshipmen shone with delight for an instant, until dave darrin answered mournfully: "it would give us great delight, sir, but for one thing. we play creighton university next saturday, and we are all members of the navy team." "none of you look forward to having to go to hospital during the progress of the game, do you?" inquired lieutenant benson with a slight smile. "hardly, sir." "then the 'dodger' can sail an hour after the finish of the game, and perhaps stay out a little later on sunday. will that solve the problem?" "splendidly, sir!" "then i will use such persuasion as i can with the superintendent to have you six men detailed for the saturday-sunday detail this week," promised lieutenant benson. "and now i will write your names down, in order that there may be no mistake about the squad that reports to me late next saturday afternoon. dismissed!" as dave and his friends stepped ashore even dan dalzell had a more gracious estimate of "that kid, benson." that night, and for several nights afterwards, the "dodger" and her officers furnished a fruitful theme for discussion among the midshipmen. as the "dodger" was believed to be the very finest submarine craft anywhere among the navies of the world, the interest grew rather than waned. dave and dan, as well as their four friends, began to look forward with interest to the coming cruise down the bay. "fellows," warned wolgast, "you'll have to look out not to get your heads so full of submarines that you lose to creighton on saturday." "on the contrary," retorted dave, "you can look for us to push creighton all over the field. we'll do it just as a sheer vent to our new animal spirits." that was a decidedly boastful speech for dave darrin, yet on saturday he made good, or helped tremendously, for creighton retired from the field with the small end of an eight-to-two score. "now, hustle on the dressing," roared wolgast, as they started to un-tog and get under the showers, after the football victory. "what's the need of rush?" demanded peckham one of the subs. "it doesn't apply to you," wolgast shot back over his shoulder, as he started on a run to the nearest shower. "i'm talking only to to-night's submarine squad." the six midshipmen found many an envious look shot in their direction. "those extremely youthful officers seem to have a bad case of spoons on you six," remarked peckham almost sourly. "show some nearly human intelligence, and maybe you'll get a chance at one of the saturday cruises, peckham," called back farley, as he began to towel down vigorously. dave and his friends were the first men of the team to be dressed and ready to leave. "give our best regards to davy jones!" shouted one of the football men. "if you go down to the bottom of chesapeake bay, and can't get up again, don't do anything to spoil the fishing," called another middy. by this time dave darrin and his mates were outside and on their way to the basin. lieutenant jack benson was the only one of the "dodger's" officers on view when the midshipmen arrived alongside. they passed aboard, saluting benson, who returned their salutes without affectation. "all here?" said benson. "mr. somers, tumble the crew on deck!" "shall we go below, sir?" inquired dave, again saluting. "not until so directed," benson replied. "i wish you to see every detail of the boat handling." at lieutenant jack's command the crew threw the hawsers aboard and soon had them out of the way. benson gave the starting signal to eph somers. no sooner had the "dodger's" hawsers been cast aboard than the submarine torpedo boat headed out. it was a get-away swift enough---almost to take the breath of the midshipmen. "you see, gentlemen," lieutenant benson explained quietly, "we act on the theory that in submarine work every second has its value when in action. so we have paid a good deal of attention to the speedy start. another thing that you will note is that, aboard so small a craft, it is important that, as far as is possible, the crew act without orders for each move. what do you note of the crew just now?" "that they performed their work with lightning speed, sir, and that they have already gone below, without waiting for orders to that effect." "right," nodded jack benson. "had the crew been needed on deck i would have ordered them to remain. as i did not so order they have gone below, where they are out of the way until wanted. a craft that fights always on the surface of the water should have some men of the crew always on deck. but here on a submarine the men would be in the way, and we want a clear range of view all over the deck, and seaward, in order that we may see everything that it is possible to see. mr. darrin, mr. dalzell and mr. farley will remain on deck with me. the other young gentlemen will go below to study the workings of the engines under ensign hastings." though it was a true pleasure trip for all six of the midshipmen, it was one of hard, brisk instruction all the time. "here, you see," explained lieutenant jack, leading his trio just forward of the conning tower, "we have a deck wheel for use when needed. mr. somers, give up the wheel." "aye, aye, sir," and ensign eph, who had been sitting at the tower wheel since the start, moved away and came on deck. "mr. darrin, take the wheel," directed benson. "are you familiar with the bay?" "not sufficiently, sir, to be a pilot." "then i will give you your directions from time to time. how does this craft mind her wheel?" "with the lightest touch, sir, that i ever saw in a wheel." "the builders of the 'dodger' have been working to make the action of the steering wheel progressively lighter with each boat that they have built. men on a submarine craft must have the steadiest nerves at all times, and steady nerves do not go hand in hand with muscle fatigue." lieutenant jack walked to the entrance to the conning tower. "mallock!" he called down to one of the crew. "aye, aye, sir." "my compliments to mr. hastings, and ask him to crowd the speed of the boat gradually." "aye, aye, sir." the "dodger" had been moving down the bay at a ten-knot pace. suddenly she gave a jump that caused midshipman dave darrin to wonder. then the submarine settled down to a rushing sixteen-knot gait." "i didn't know, sir," ventured farley, "that submarines could go quite so fast." "the old types didn't," lieutenant jack answered. "however, on the surface a capable submarine must be able to show a good deal of speed." "for getting away, sir?" "oh, no. naturally, when a submarine is pursued she can drop under the surface and leave no trail. but suppose a single submarine to be guarding a harbor, unaided by other fighting craft. a twenty-or twenty-two knot battleship is discovered, trying to make the harbor. even if the battleship steams away the submarine should be capable of following. the engines of the 'dodger,' in favorable weather, can drive her at twenty-six knots on the surface." "she's as fast as a torpedo-boat destroyer, then, sir," hazarded dan. "yes; and the submarine needs to be as fast. with the improvement of submarine boats the old style of torpedo boat will pass out altogether. then, if the destroyer is retained the submarine must be capable of attacking the destroyer on equal terms. undoubtedly, after a few years more the river gunboat and the submarine torpedo boat will be the only small fighting craft left in the navies of the leading powers of the world." even while this brief conversation was going on the speed of the "dodger" had begun to increase again. ensign hasting's head showed through the opening in the conning tower. "we're going now at a twenty-knot clip, sir," hal reported. "do you wish any more speed?" "not in chesapeake bay; navigating conditions are not favorable." "very good, sir." hal vanished below. never very talkative, hal was content to stand by his engines in silence when there was no need of talking. from time to time, as the craft sped on down the bay, lieutenant benson glanced at the chronometer beside the deck wheel. "you don't have the ship's bell struck on this craft, sir?" inquired midshipman darrin. "only when at anchor or in dock," replied lieutenant jack benson. "a submarine's natural mission is one of stealth, and it wouldn't do to go about with a clanging of gongs. now, let me have the wheel, mr. darrin. you gentlemen go to the conning tower and stand so that you can hear what goes on below." while the three midshipmen stood as directed the speed of the "dodger" slackened. then, after a space of a full minute, the submarine returned to her former twenty-knot speed. "did you hear any clanging or jangling of a signal bell or gong when the speeds were changed?" questioned lieutenant benson. "no, sir," darrin answered. "that was because no bells were sounded," explained benson. "from deck or conning tower signals can be sent that make no noise. on a dark night, or in a fog, we could manoeuvre, perhaps, within a stone's throw of an enemy's battleship, and the only sound that might betray our presence would be our wash as we moved along. take the wheel, mr. farley." then, after giving farley a few directions as to the course to follow, lieutenant benson added: "take command of the deck, mr. farley." "humph!" muttered dan. "the lieutenant doesn't seem to be afraid that we'll run his craft into any danger." "he knows as well as we do what would happen to me, if there were any disaster, and i had to explain it before a court of inquiry," laughed midshipman farley. "hello! who slowed the boat down?" dan had done it, unobserved by his comrades, in an irrepressible spirit of mischief. he had reached over, touching the indicator, and thus directing the engine-room man to proceed at less speed. dalzell, however, did not answer. "i'd like to know if the speed were slackened intentionally," fussed farley. "darry, do you mind going below and inquiring?" "not in the least," smiled dave, "but is it good naval etiquette for one midshipman to use another midshipman as a messenger?" "oh, bother etiquette!" grunted farley. "what would you really do if you were in command of the deck---as i am---and you wanted to ask a question, with the answer down below?" "i'll go to the conning tower and summon a man on deck, if you wish," dave offered. farley nodded, so dave stepped over to the conning tower, calling down: "one man of the watch---on deck!" seaman mallock was on deck in a hurry, saluting midshipman farley. "mallock, report to lieutenant benson, or the next ranking officer who may be visible below. report with my compliments that the speed of the craft has slackened, and inquire whether that was intentional." "aye, aye, sir." mallock was soon back, saluting. "engine tender reports, sir, that he slowed down the speed in obedience to the indicator." "but i-----" farley began. then he checked himself abruptly, noting out of the corner of his eye that dan dalzell had wandered over to the rail and stood looking off to seaward. if dan were responsible for the slowing down of the speed, and admitted it under questioning, then farley, under the regulations, would be obliged to report dalzell, and that young man already had some demerits against his name. "oh, very good, then, mallock," was midshipman farley's rather quick reply. "who is the ranking officer visible below at present?" "ensign somers, sir." "very good. my compliments to mr. somers, and ask at what speed he wishes to run." seaman mallock soon returned, saluting. "ensign somers' compliments sir, and the ensign replies that mr. farley is in command of the deck." "very good, then," nodded midshipman farley, and set the indicator at the twenty mark. ten minutes later lieutenant benson reappeared on deck. first of all he noted the "dodger's" position. then, as ensign eph and mallock appeared, benson announced: "gentlemen, you will come down to supper now. mr. somers, you will take command of the deck." "very good, sir," eph responded. "mallock, take the wheel." lieutenant benson seated himself at the head of the table, with ensign hastings on his right. the midshipmen filled the remaining seats. "we're necessarily a little crowded on a craft of this size," explained benson. "also the service is not what it would be on a battleship. we can carry but few men, so the cook must also act as waiter." at once a very good meal was set on the table, and all hands were busily eating when eph somers came down the stairs, saluted and reported: "sir, we are on the bottom of chesapeake bay, with our nose in the mud!" chapter ix the treachery of morton to the midshipmen that was rather startling news to receive while in the act of enjoying a very excellent meal. lieutenant jack benson, however, appeared to take the news very coolly. "may i ask," he inquired, "whether any of you young gentlemen noticed anything unusual in our motion during the last two or three minutes?" all six of the midshipmen glanced at him quickly, then at darrin the other five looked, as though appointing him their spokesman. "no, sir; we didn't note anything," replied dave. "we were too busy with our food and with listening to the talk." "but now you notice something?" "yes, sir." "what?" "that the boat appears motionless, as though speed had been stopped." "and that is the case," smiled benson. "mr. somers, soon after the soup was placed on the table, came in from the deck with the one man of his watch, closed the tower and signaled for changing to the electric motors. then he filled the forward tanks and those amidships, at last filling the tanks astern. we came below so gently that you very intent young men never noticed the change. we are now on the bottom---in about how many feet of water, mr. somers?" "about forty, sir," replied eph. the six midshipmen stared at one another, then felt a somewhat uncomfortable feeling creeping over them. "had it been daylight," smiled benson, "you would have been warned by the disappearance of natural light and the increased brilliancy of the electric light here below. however, your experience serves to show you how easily up-to-date submarines may be handled." "what do you think of the way the trick was done?" asked hal hastings, looking up with a quiet smile. "it was marvelous," replied midshipman farley promptly. "i would like to ask a question, sir, if i may," put in midshipman jetson. "go ahead, sir." "were submarines ever handled anywhere near as neatly before you three gentlemen began your work with the pollard company?" "we didn't handle them as easily, at all events," replied jack with a smile. "it has required a lot of work and practice, night and day. steward, a plate for mr. somers." "this is the way we generally manage at meal times," smiled ensign eph, as he took his place at table. "there's no use in keeping an officer and a man on deck, or a tender at the engines, unless we're going somewhere, in a hurry. so, in a case like this, where the deck officer wants his meal, we just sink into the mud and rest easy until the meal is over." "are you giving instruction, or merely seeking to amuse your guests, mr. somers?" lieutenant jack benson asked quietly. "oh, i forgot," explained eph, with another smile; "these young gentlemen are not yet acquainted with me. when they are they'll know that no one ever takes me too seriously." "a bad habit for a superior officer, isn't it?" inquired benson, looking around at his student guests. "but mr. somers may be taken very seriously indeed---when he's on duty. he is unreliable at table only." "unreliable at table?" echoed eph, helping himself to a slice of roast meat. "why, it seems to me that this is the one place where i can be depended upon to do all that is expected of me." the others now sat back, out of courtesy, looking on and chatting while ensign eph somers ate his meal. "there may be a few questions---or many---that you would like to ask," suggested lieutenant jack benson. "if so, gentlemen, go ahead with your questions. for that matter, during your stay aboard, ask all the questions you can think of." "thank you, sir," replied midshipman dave darrin, with a slight bow. "i have been thinking of one point on which i would be glad of information." "and that is-----" "the full complement of this craft appears to consist of three officers and four enlisted men---that is, of course, outside of your combined cook and steward." "yes," nodded benson. "one of the officers is commanding officer; another is deck officer and the third engineer officer." "yes." "then, on a cruise," pursued dave, "how can you divide watches and thus keep going night and day?" "why, originally," jack replied, "we put on long cruises with only three aboard---the three who are at present officers. with a boat like the 'dodger,' which carries so few men, the commanding officer cannot stand on his dignity and refuse to stand watch. i frequently take my trick at the wheel. that gives mr. somers his chance to go below and sleep." "yet mr. hastings is your only engineer officer." "true, but two of our enlisted men are trained as engine-tenders. our engines are rather simple, in the main, and an enlisted engine-tender can run our engine room for hours at a stretch under ordinary conditions. of course, if anything out of the usual should happen while mr. hastings were taking his trick in his berth, he would have to be wakened. but we can often make as long a trip as from new york to havana without needing to call mr. hastings once from his berth during his hours of rest." "then you have two enlisted men aboard who thoroughly understand your engines?" pressed dave darrin. "ordinarily," replied hal hastings, here breaking in. "but one of our engine-tenders reached the end of his enlisted period to-day, and, as he wouldn't re-enlist, we had to let him go. so the new enlisted man whom we took aboard is just starting in to learn his duties." "small loss in morton," laughed lieutenant jack benson. "he was enough of a natural genius around machinery, but he was a man of sulky and often violent temper. really, i am glad that morton took his discharge to-day. i never felt wholly safe while we had him aboard." "he was a bad one," ensign hal hastings nodded. "morton might have done something to sink us, only that he couldn't do so without throwing away his own life." "i don't know, sir, what i'd do, if i were a commanding officer and found that i had such a man in the crew," replied midshipman darrin. "why, in a man's first enlistment," replied lieutenant jack, "the commanding officer is empowered to give him a summary dismissal from the service. morton was in his second enlistment, or i surely would have dropped him ahead of his time. i'm glad he's gone." ensign eph had now finished his meal and was sitting back in his chair. lieutenant jack therefore gave the rising sign. "i want to show the midshipmen everything possible on this trip," said the very young commanding officer. "so we won't lie here in the mud any more. mr. somers, you will return to the tower steering wheel, and you, mr. hastings, will take direct charge of the engines. i will gather the midshipmen around me here in the cabin, and show the young gentlemen how easily we control the rising of a submarine from the bottom." hal and eph hurried to their stations. the midshipmen followed jack benson over to what looked very much like a switchboard. the young lieutenant held a wrench in his right hand. "i will now turn on the compressed air device," announced lieutenant jack. "first of all i will empty the bow chambers of water by means of the compressed air; then the middle chambers, and, lastly, the stern chambers. on a smaller craft than this we would operate directly with the wrench. on a boat of the 'dodger's' type we must employ the wrench first, but the work must be backed up with the performance of a small electric motor." captain jack rapidly indicated the points at which the wrench was to be operated, adding: "i want you to note these points as i explain them, for after i start with the wrench i shall have to work rapidly along from bow to stern tanks. otherwise we would shoot up perpendicularly, instead of going up on a nearly even keel. mr. hastings, are you all ready at your post?" "aye, aye, sir," came back the engineer officer's reply. "on post, mr. somers?" "aye, aye, sir." lieutenant jack applied the wrench, calling snappily: "watch me. i've no time to explain anything now." with that he applied one of the wrenches and gave it a turn. instantly one of the electric motors in the engine-room began to vibrate. almost imperceptibly the bow of the "dodger" began to rise. lieutenant jack, intent on preserving an even keel as nearly as possible, passed on to the middle station with his wrench. just as he applied the tool the electric motor ceased running. "what's the matter, mr. hastings?" jack inquired quietly. "something blow out of the motor?" the submarine remained slightly tilted up at the bow. "i don't know, sir, as yet, what has happened," hal hastings answered back. "i'm going over the motor now." in a moment more he stepped into the cabin, a much more serious look than usual on his fine face. "this, looks like the man morton's work," hal announced holding a small piece of copper up before the eyes of the midshipmen. "gentlemen, do you notice that the under side of this plate has been filed considerably?" "yes, sir," nodded dan dalzell, a queer look crossing his face. "won't the motor operate without that plate being sound?" "it will not." the other midshipmen began to look and to feel strange. "then are we moored for good at the bottom of the bay?" asked jetson. "no; for we carry plenty of duplicate parts for this plate," replied ensign hal. "come into the engine room and i will show you how i fit the duplicate part on." hal led the midshipmen, halting before a small work bench. he threw open a drawer under the bench. "every duplicate plate has been removed from this drawer," announced hastings quietly. "then, indeed, we are stuck in the mud, with no chance of rising. gentlemen, i trust that the navy will send divers here to rescue us before our fresh air gives out!" chapter x "we belong to the navy, too!" "you mean, sir," asked midshipman jetson, his voice hoarse in spite of his efforts to remain calm, "that we are doomed to remain here at the bottom of the bay unless divers reach us in time?" "yes," nodded hal hastings, his voice as quiet and even as ever. "unless we can find a duplicate plate---and that appears impossible---the 'dodger' is wholly unable to help herself." "if the outlook is as black as it appears, gentlemen," spoke jack benson from behind their backs, "i'm extremely sorry that such a disaster should have happened when we had six such promising young naval officers aboard." "oh, hang us and our loss!" exploded dave darrin forgetting that he was addressing an officer. "i guess the country won't miss us so very much. but it surely will be a blow to the united states if the navy's three best submarine experts have to be lost to the country to satisfy a discharged enlisted man's spite." eph somers had come down from the tower. he, too, looked extremely grave, though he showed no demoralizing signs of fear. as for the six midshipmen, they were brave. not a doubt but that every one of them showed all necessary grit in the face of this fearful disaster. yet they could not conceal the pallor in their faces, nor could they hide the fact that their voices shook a little when they spoke. "make a thorough search, mr. hastings," directed lieutenant jack benson, in a tone as even as though he were discussing the weather. "it's barely possible that the duplicate plates have been only mislaid---that they're in another drawer." hal hastings turned with one of his quiet smiles. he knew that the system in his beloved engine room was so exact that nothing there was ever misplaced. "i'm looking, sir," hastings answered, as he opened other drawers in turn, and explored them. "but i'm not at all hopeful of finding the duplicate plates. this damaged one had been filed thinner, which shows that it was done by design. the man who would do that trick purposely wouldn't leave any duplicate plates behind." the four enlisted men and the cook had gathered behind their officers. "morton---the hound! this is his trick!" growled seaman kellogg hoarsely. "many a time i've heard him brag that he'd get even for the punishments that were put upon him. and now he has gone and done it---the worse than cur!" "no; there are no duplicate parts here," announced ensign hastings at last. "see if you can't fit on the old, worn one," proposed lieutenant jack. "no such luck!" murmured hal hastings. "morton was too good a mechanic not to know bow to do his trick! he hasn't left us a single chance for our lives!" none the less hal patiently tried to fit the plate back and make the motor work, lieutenant jack, in the meantime, standing by the board with the wrench in hand. in the next ten minutes several efforts were made to start the motor, but all of them failed. "and all for want of a bit of copper of a certain size, shape and thickness," sighed midshipman dan dalzell. "it does seem silly, doesn't it," replied lieutenant jack with a wan smile. "at least," murmured midshipman wolgast, "we shall have a chance to show that we know how to die like men of the navy." "never say die," warned ensign eph somers seriously, "until you know you're really dead!" this caused a laugh, and it eased them all. "well," muttered jetson, "as i know that i can't be of any use here i'm going back into the cabin and sit down. i can at least keep quiet and make no fuss about it." one after another the other midshipmen silently followed jetson's example. they sat three on either side of the cabin, once in a while looking silently into the face of the others. not until many minutes more had passed did the three officers of the "dodger" cease their efforts to find a duplicate plate for the motor. kellogg and another of the seamen, though they met their chance of death with grit enough, broke loose into mutterings that must have made the ears of ex-seaman morton burn, wherever that worthy was. "i wish i had that scoundrel here, under my heel," raged seaman kellogg. "it will be wiser and braver, my man," broke in lieutenant jack quietly, "not to waste any needless thought on matters of violence. it will be better for us all if every man here goes to his death quietly and with a heart and head free from malice." "you're right, sir," admitted kellogg. "and i wish to say, sir, that i never served under braver officers." "there won't be divers sent after us---at least, within the time that we're going to be alive," spoke midshipman farley soberly. "in the first place, chesapeake bay is a big place, and no naval officer would know where to locate us." "mr. benson," broke in jetson suddenly, "i heard once that you submarine experts had invented a way of leaving a submarine boat by means of the torpedo tube. why can't you do that now?" "we could," smiled lieutenant jack benson, "if our compressed air apparatus were working. we can't do the trick without compressed air. if we had any of that which we could use, we wouldn't need to leave the boat and swim to the top. we could take the boat to the surface instead." "then it's impossible, sir, to leave the boat?" questioned jetson, his color again fading. "yes; if we opened the outer end of the torpedo tube, without being able to throw compressed air in there first, then the water would rush in and drown us." "i'm filled with wonder," dan dalzell muttered to himself. "staring certain death in the face, i can't understand how it happens that i'm not going around blubbering and making a frantic jackanapes of myself. there's not a chance of living more than an hour or two longer, and yet i'm calm. i wonder how it happens? it isn't because i don't know what is coming to me. i wonder if the other fellows feel just as i do?" dan glanced curiously around him at the other midshipmen faces. "do you know," said darrin quietly, "i've often wondered how other men have felt in just such a fix as we're in now." "well, how do you feel, darry?" farley invited. "i'm blessed if i really know. probably in an instant when i fail briefly to realize all that this means my feeling is that i wouldn't have missed such an experience for anything." "you could have all my share of it, if i could make an effective transfer," laughed wolgast. "if we ever do get out of this alive," mused page aloud, "i don't doubt we'll look back to this hour with a great throb of interest and feel glad that we've had one throb that most men don't get in a lifetime." "but we won't get out," advanced jetson. "we're up hard against it. it's all over but the slow strangling to death as the air becomes more rare." "i wonder if it will be a strangling and choking," spoke darrin again in a strange voice; "or whether it will be more like an asphyxiation? in the latter case we may drop over, one at a time, without pain, and all of us be finished within two or three minutes from the time the first one starts." "pleasant!" uttered wolgast grimly. "let's start something---a jolly song, for instance." "want to die more quickly?" asked dalzell. "singing eats up the air faster." lieutenant jack benson came out of the engine room for a moment. he took down the wrench and went back to the engine room. but first he paused, for a brief instant, shooting at the midshipmen a look that was full of pity for them. for himself, jack benson appeared to have no especial feeling. then the young commanding officer went back into the engine room, closing the door after him. "what did he shut the door for?" asked jetson. "probably they're going to do something, in there, that will call for a good deal of physical exertion." "well, what of that?" demanded jetson, not seeing the point. "why," dave explained, "a man at laborious physical work uses up more air than a man who is keeping quiet. if the three officers are going to work hard in there then they've closed the door in order not to deprive us of air." "we called them kids, at first," spoke dan dalzell ruefully, "but they're a mighty fine lot of real men, those three acting naval officers." dave darrin rose and walked over to the engine room, opening the door and looking in. hal and eph were hard at work over the motor, while lieutenant jack benson, with his hand in his pockets, stood watching their efforts. "i beg your pardon, sir," said darrin, saluting, "but did you close this door in order to leave more air to us?" "yes," answered jack benson. "go back and sit down." "i hope you won't think us mutinous, sir," darrin returned steadily, "but we don't want any more than our share of whatever air is left on board this craft. we belong to the navy, too." from the after end of the cabin came an approving grunt. it was here that the cook and the four seamen had gathered. with the door open the midshipmen could see what was going on forward, and they watched with intense fascination. eph somers had taken 'the too-thin copper' plate to the work-bench, and had worked hard over it, trying to devise some way of making it fit so that it would perform its function in the motor. now, he and hal hastings struggled and contrived with it. every time that the pair of submarine boys thought they had the motor possibly ready to run hal tried to start the motor. yet he just as often failed to get a single movement from the mechanism. "i reckon you might about as well give it up," remarked lieutenant jack benson coolly. "what's the use of giving up," eph demanded, "as long as there's any life left in us?" "i mean," the young lieutenant explained, "that you'd better give up this particular attempt and make a try at something else." "all right, if you see anything else that we can do," proposed eph dryly. "say, here's a quarter to pay for your idea." seemingly as full of mischief as ever, eph somers pressed a silver coin into jack benson's hand. but jack, plainly impatient with such trifling, frowned slightly as he turned and pitched the quarter forward. "this isn't a twenty-five-cent proposition," benson remarked. "in fact, all the money on earth won't save us this time!" chapter xi a quarter's worth of hope "until some one can think of something else, i'm going to keep on trying the hopeless thing and endeavoring to make this old, thin plate work," declared hal hastings, who was still bent over the motor, studying it intently. benson had turned back to examine the work, after tossing the coin away, but just as suddenly he glanced forward again. at the extreme forward end of the engine room of the "dodger" was another bench. here were a vise and other heavier tools. on the floor under this bench were stowed many mechanical odds and ends---pieces of wood, coils of rope, even a bundle of tent-pegs, though nothing was visible of a metallic nature. "you fellows keep at work," jack benson shot back suddenly over his shoulder. "where you going?" demanded eph. "forward." that much was evident, but jack was now down on hands and knees carefully yet feverishly moving the wooden articles, cordage and such things from under the forward bench. "what are you doing?" called eph. "go ahead with your work---there's no time to be lost," replied lieutenant jack. "hold this a moment, eph," hal hastings requested, and somers's attention was forced back to the motor. sc-cratch! flare! jack benson was using matches under that work bench, now that be had made some clear space there. "i wonder if jack has gone clean daffy?" half chuckled somers under his breath. "what are you talking about?" hastings demanded. "jack's lighting matches up forward, under the other bench." "what if he is?" "maybe he thinks he can explode some gasoline and blow us to the surface." "quit your nonsense," returned hal almost angrily, "and help me with this job." "i'm waiting to see if jack is going to let out a maniac yell," grimaced eph somers. "quit your-----" "wow! whoop!" uttered young benson excitedly. "never tell me again that it's unlucky to throw money away! whoop!" "what did i tell you?" demanded eph. "if jack's making a noise like that," retorted hastings, as be straightened up and wheeled about, "he's got a mighty good reason for it." "of course. every lunatic has loads of good reasons for anything he does," muttered eph. "look here, fellows!" ordered jack benson, almost staggering as he approached them. "great dewey! am i going crazy, too?" muttered eph, staring hard. "what i think i see in jack's hands are some of the missing copper plates." "it's exactly what you do see," announced jack benson, his face beaming. "but how---" "how they came to be there i don't know," benson replied. "but when i threw away your quarter, eph, it rolled under the bench. there wasn't supposed to be anything metallic under the bench, but i felt almost, sure that i had heard the silver strike against something metallic. even then it seemed like a crazy notion to me. i didn't really expect to find anything, but some uncontrollable impulse urged me to go hustling under the bench. and so i found these duplicate plates, wedged in behind a lot of junk and right up against the partition." hal hastings, in the meantime, had taken one of the plates from lieutenant jack's hand, and was now quietly fitting it where it belonged on the motor. the six midshipmen, as soon as they realized what had happened, had sprung eagerly to the door of the engine room and stood peering in. behind them were the cook and crew of the "dodger." presently hal straightened up. "sir," he said gravely, "i have hopes that if you test the compressed air apparatus you will find that this motor will do its share." midshipmen and crew drew back as jack and eph came out of the engine room. lieutenant jack had his wrench in hand, and went back to his former post. "young gentlemen," the commanding officer announced coolly, "we will take up, at the point where we were interrupted, the work of expelling the water from the compartments are you ready, mr. hastings?" "right by my post, sir," came from hal. the six midshipmen gathered about benson with a stronger sense of fascination than ever. eph stepped past them to the stairs leading---to the little conning tower. with steady hand jack benson turned the wrench. the motor began to "mote" and there was a sense of being lifted. "going up!" sang ensign eph, with a grin. nor could dan dalzell help imitating the grin and calling out jovially: "let me out at the top floor, please!" having set the compressed air at work on the forward tanks, jack benson quickly shifted the wrench, and without a word, getting at work on the midship's compartments. then the stern tanks were emptied. "may i come up, sir?" called dan, his voice trembling with joy, at the foot of the stairs. "very good," eph sang back. "room for only one, though," so dan dalzell hastily mounted the iron stairs until he found himself side by side with eph somers. for a few seconds all was inky darkness on the other side of the thick plate glass of the conning tower. then, all in a flash, dalzell caught sight of the twinkling stars as the dripping conning tower rose above the top of the water. "i have the honor to report that all's well again, and that we're on earth once more," dan announced, as he came down the steps into the little cabin. "attention, gentlemen," called lieutenant jack benson, as soon as the "dodger" was once more under way, her sea-going gasoline engines now performing the work lately entrusted to the electric motors. at the word "attention" the six midshipmen became rigidly erect, their hands dropping at their sides. "gentlemen," continued benson, "i realize that the late strain has been a severe one on us all. we of the 'dodger' have been through the same sort of thing before. you midshipmen have not. if you feel, therefore, that you would prefer to have me head about and return to the naval academy i give you my word that i shall not think you weak-kneed for making the request." "thank you, sir," replied dave darrin, "but we belong to the united states navy and we have no business to suffer with nerves. if our wish alone is to be consulted, we prefer to finish the cruise as we would any other tour of duty." dave's five comrades in the brigade of midshipmen loved him for that answer! chapter xii ready to trim west point "have had an experience, sir, that we shall never forget, and one that we wouldn't have missed!" thus spoke dave darrin the, following afternoon, as he saluted the young officers of the "dodger" before going over the side as the boat lay alongside the wall of the basin. to which the other midshipmen agreed. "we have enjoyed having you aboard," replied lieutenant jack benson. "none of us will ever forget this cruise." then the six midshipmen strode briskly along the walks until they reached bancroft hall. it wasn't long ere news of the adventure of the night before got whispered along the decks. then dave and dan, farley and page, jetson and wolgast all had so much midshipman company that it was a relief when the evening study hours came around. all six of the midshipmen had to tell the story of their submarine experience until all of them fairly hated to talk about the matter. seaman morton was never heard from again, and so did not come in for his share of the excitement. however, it was not destined to last long, for the football season was at its height and every blue-clad middy thought, talked and dreamed about the navy team. a good team it was, too, and a good year for the navy. the young men of the naval academy played one of their most brilliant seasons of football. dave, by a bigger effort than any one understood, forced back his interest in the gridiron until he played a brilliant game. the navy won more victories than it had done before in any one of fifteen seasons of football. yet report said that the army, too, was playing a superb game, considering that it had been deprived of its two best players, prescott and holmes. up to the last dave continued to hope that cadet dick prescott might be restored to the army eleven. dick's letters from west point, however, appeared to indicate clearly that he was not to play. therefore greg holmes wouldn't play. at last came the fateful day, the saturday after thanksgiving. early the brigade of midshipmen was marched over to the trolley line, where a long string of cars waited to receive them. "we want an extra car to-night," one first classman called jovially to the car inspector who was in charge of the transportation. "we want that extra car to bring back the army scalp in." all the way to baltimore and thence to philadelphia, dave darrin was unusually quiet. dalzell, on the other hand, made noise enough for both of them. "darry hasn't the sulks over anything, has be?" wolgast anxiously asked dalzell. "don't you believe it," dan retorted. "but he's so abominably quiet." "saving all his breath to use on the field." "are you sure darry is in form?" persisted wolgast. "yes. wait and see." "i'll have to," sighed wolgast, with another sidelong glance at darrin's emotionless face. the navy team and subs. arrived at dressing quarters nearly an hour before it would be necessary to tog. as the west point men were on hand, also, dave stepped outside. almost the first man he met was a tall, slim, soldierly looking fellow in the cadet gray. "aren't you fields?" asked dave, holding out his hand. "yes," replied the cadet, giving his own hand. "and you're darrin---one of the few men we're afraid of." "does prescott play to-day?" dave asked eagerly. the west pointer's brow clouded. "no," he replied. "mr. prescott isn't a subject for conversation at the military academy. mr. prescott is in coventry." "sad mistake," muttered darrin. "eh?" "a sad mistake. you men have made a bad bungle; i know it." "it is a matter of internal discipline in the corps," replied the west point cadet, speaking much more coldly. "yes, i know it," dave replied quickly, "and i beg your pardon for having seemed to criticise the action of the corps of cadets. however, anything that unpleasantly affects dick prescott is a sore subject with me. prescott is one of the best friends i have in the world." "why, i've heard something about that," replied fields in a less constrained tone. "you and mr. prescott are old school cronies." "of the closest kind," dave nodded. "that's why i feel certain that dick prescott never did, and never could do, anything dishonorable. you'll surely find it out before long, and then the corps will make full amends." "i fear not," replied cadet fields. "mr. prescott had every opportunity given him to clear himself, and failed to do so to the satisfaction of the corps. therefore he'll never graduate from the military academy. it wouldn't do him any good to try. he'd only be ostracized in the army if he had the cheek to stay in the corps." "let's not talk about that part of it any more," begged dave. "but you'll miss prescott from your fighting line to-day." "that's very likely," assented the west point man. "i'm glad we haven't mr. prescott here, but we'd be heartily glad if we had some one else as good on the football field." "and you haven't holmes, either?" sighed dave. "that isn't any one's fault but holmesy's," frowned cadet fields. "we wanted holmesy to play, and we gave him every chance, but-----" "but he wouldn't," finished dave. "no more would i play on the navy team if the fellows had done anything unjust to dalzell." "do you feel that you're going to have an easy walk-over with us to-day?" demanded cadet fields cheerily. "no; but we're prepared to fight. we'll get the game if it's in any way possible," darrin assured his questioner. "are the bonfires back in annapolis all ready to be lighted to-night?" inquired fields smilingly. "they must be." "what a lot of unnecessary labor," laughed the west point man. "why?" challenged dave. "because the army is going to win again." that "again" caused dave darrin to wince. "we win almost every time, you know," fields explained. "almost every time?" challenged dan dalzell, joining the pair. "are you sure of your statistics?" "oh, i have the statistics, of course," fields answered. "that's why i speak so confidently." at this point three more west point men approached. "hey, fellows," called fields good-humoredly. "do you know of an impression that i find to prevail among the middies to-day?" "what is that?" inquired one of the gray-clad cadets, as the newcomers joined the group. "why, the middies seem to think that they're going to take the army's scalp to-day." "is that really your idea of the matter?" asked one of the gray-clad cadets. "so mr. fields has said," dave answered. "but what do you say?" "about the most that i feel like saying," darrin answered as quietly as ever, "is that the navy prefers to do its bragging afterwards." "an excellent practice," nodded one of the cadets. "you've acquired the habit through experience, i presume. it has saved your having to swallow a lot of your words on many occasions." all laughed good-naturedly. though there was the most intense rivalry between the two government military schools, yet all were gentlemen, and the fun-making could not be permitted to go beyond the limits of ordinary teasing. "what's your line-up?" broke in dan dalzell. "haven't you fellows gotten hold of the cards yet?" asked one of the west point men. "then take a look over mine." standing together dave and dan eagerly glanced down the printed line-up of the military academy. "i know a few of these names," ventured darrin, "and they're the names of good men. several of the other names i don't know at all. and you've left out the names of the two army men that we're most afraid of in a game of football." "it seems queer to think of an army line-up without prescott and holmes," dan declared musingly. over the faces of the cadets there crept a queer look, but none of them spoke. "so you've boycotted prescott and holmes?" pursued dalzell. "yes," replied one of the cadets. "or, rather, prescott is in coventry, and holmes prefers to stand by his friend in everything. holmes, being prescott's roommate, doesn't have to keep away from mr. prescott." "humph!" laughed dan. "i think i can see greg holmes turning his back upon dick prescott. why, greg wouldn't do that even if he had to get out of the army in consequence." "we did the only thing we could with the prescott fellow," spoke up another cadet. dave darrin's dark eyes flashed somewhat. "gentlemen," he begged quietly, "will you do me the very great favor not to refer to prescott slightingly as a 'fellow.' he's one of the noblest youngsters i've ever known, and i'm his friend through thick and thin. of course, i don't expect you to know it yet, but i feel positive that you've made a tremendous mistake in sending to coventry one of nature's noblemen." "hm!" muttered some of the cadets, and slight frowns were visible. "and when you lose the game to-day," continued dan dalzell, "it may be a comfort to you to know that you might possibly have won it if you had had prescott and holmes in your battle front." "prescott isn't the only football player in the army," returned cadet fields. "nor are he and holmes the only pair of 'em." "you'll lose without that pair, though," ventured dave. "and it must shake the confidence of your men, too, for you've come here without your two best men." "of course, we have to manage our own affairs," interposed one of the cadets. "gentlemen," spoke up dave quickly, "of course, you have to manage your own problems, and no one else is fitted to do so. if i've gone too far in what might have seemed like criticism, then i beg you to forget it. i don't want to be suspected of any disagreeable intent. if i spoke almost bitterly it was because prescott is my very dear friend. i have another, and a real grievance---i wanted to test myself out today against dick prescott, as any two friends may contest to vanquish one another on the field of sports." "no one had any thought, i am sure, mr. darrin, of accusing you of wishing to be disagreeable," spoke up cadet fields. "we believe you to be a prince of good and true fellows; in fact, we accept you at the full estimate of the brigade of midshipmen. wade in and beat us to-day, if you can---but you can't prescott or no prescott." "better run inside and tog!" called wolgast from a distance. "you'll excuse us now, won't you?" asked dave. "come along, danny boy." as the two midshipmen lifted their caps and hastened away, fields gazed after them speculatively: "there goes the navy's strength in to-day's game," he announced. "i wonder if we have done prescott any wrong?" said another cadet slowly. "that question has been settled by formal class action," replied another. "it's a closed matter." then these west point men strolled over to quarters to get into togs. as they were to play subs. they did not need to be as early at togging as the members of the team. out on franklin field thousands and thousands of americans, from the president of the united states down, waited impatiently for the excitement of the day to begin. on either side of the field some hundreds of seats were still left vacant. the music of a band now floated out, proclaiming that one set of seats was soon to be filled. then in, through a gate, marched the military academy band at the head of the corps of cadets. frantic cheers broke loose on the air, and there was a great fluttering of the black and gray banners carried by the army's boosters in the audience. gray and steel-like the superb corps marched in across the field, and over to the seats assigned to them. barely had the army band ceased playing when another struck up in the distance. it was now the turn of the fine naval academy band to play the brigade of midshipmen on to the field. again the air vibrated with the intensity of the loyal cheers that greeted the middies. over in quarters, after the middies of the team had togged, a few anxious minutes of waiting followed. what was to be the fate of the day? "darry," spoke wolgast in a voice full of feeling, "you're not woozy to-day, are you?" "i don't believe i am," smiled dave. "well, you know, old chap, you've been unaccountably stale---or something---at times this season. you haven't been the real darry---always. you're feeling in really bully form today?" "i'm pretty sure that i'm in good winning form," dave replied. "will that be enough?" wolgast looked him over, then rejoined: "somehow, i think you're in pretty good form. i'll feel better, very likely, after we've played for ten minutes. darry, old fellow, just don't forget how much the navy depends upon you." "are you all right, davy?" dan dalzell demanded in a more than anxious undertone. "i certainly am, danny boy." "but, you know-----" "yes; i know that, for a while, i showed signs of going fuzzy. but i'm over that." "good!" chuckled dan, as he caught the resolute flash in darrin's eyes. "i was fearfully afraid that you'd go bad simply because you didn't have prescott to go up against. for a good many days that very fact seemed to prey upon your mind and make you indifferent." "danny boy, i am going to play my mightiest, just because prescott isn't with the army!" "what do you mean by that?" "i mean that i'm going to make the west point fellows most abominably sorry that they didn't have dick prescott on their eleven. and you want to stand with me in that, danny boy. keep hammering the army to-day, and with every blow just think it's another blow struck for dick prescott and greg holmes. oh, we'll trim west point in their joint name!" chapter xiii when "brace up, army!" was the word "all out for practice!" called wolgast. team men and subs. bunched, the navy players trotted on to the field, amid a tempest of wild cheering. no sooner had dave darrin halted for an instant, when he broke into a whirlwind of sprinting speed. dan dalzell tried to keep up with him, but found it impossible. "good old darry!" yelled a hoarse voice from one of the grandstands. "that's the way you'll go around the end to-day!" some of the other navy players were kicking a ball back and forth. the army team was not yet on the field, but it came, a few moments later, and received a tremendous ovation from its own solid ranks of rooters. this time darrin barely glanced at any of the army players. he knew that prescott and holmes were not there. whoever else might be, he was not interested. only a very few minutes were allowed for practice. during this exercise the army and navy bands played alternately. then the referee signaled the bands to stop. tril-l-l-l! sounded the whistle, and army and navy captains trotted to the center of the field to watch the toss of the coin. wolgast won, and awarded the kick-off to the army. then the teams jogged quickly to places, and in an instant all was in readiness. over the spectators' seats a hush had fallen. even the army and navy cheer leaders looked nearly as solemn as owls. the musicians of the two bands lounged in their seats and instruments had been laid aside. there would be no more noise until one team or the other had started to do real things. quick and sharp came the signal. west point kicked and the ball was in play. navy's quarterback, after a short run, placed himself to seize the arching pigskin out of the air. then he ran forward, protected by the navy interference. by a quick pass the ball came into dave darrin's hands. dalzell braced himself as he hit the strong army line. it was like butting a stone wall, but darrin got through, with the aid of effective interference. army men bunched and tackled, but dave struggled on. he did not seem to be exerting much strength, but his elusiveness was wonderful, then, after a few yards had been gained, dave was borne to the earth, the bottom of a struggling mass until, the referee's whistle ended the scrimmage. annapolis players could not help shooting keen glances of satisfaction at each other. the test had been a brief one, but now they saw that darrin was in form, and that he could be depended upon to-day, unless severe accident came to cripple him. again the ball was put in play, this time going over to farley and page on the right end. only a yard did farley succeed in advancing the ball, but that was at least a gain. then again came the pigskin to the left flank, and dave fought it through the enemy's battle line for a distance of eight feet ere he was forced to earth with it. by this time the west point captain was beginning to wonder what ailed his men. the cadet players themselves were worried. if the navy could play like this through the game, it looked as though annapolis might wipe out, in one grand and big-scored victory, the memory of many past defeats. "brace up, army!" was the word passed through west point's eleven. "good old darry!" chuckled wolgast, and, though he did not like to work darrin too hard at the outset, yet it was also worth while to shake the army nerve as much as possible. so wolgast signaled quarterback to send the ball once more by midshipman dave. another seven yards was gained by darrin. the west point men were gasping, more from chagrin than from actual physical strain. was it going to prove impossible to stop these mad navy rushes? then wolgast reluctantly as he saw dave limp slightly, decided upon working page and farley a little harder just at present. so back the ball traveled to the right flank was making, however, the navy cheermaster started a triumphant yell going, in which nearly eight hundred midshipmen joined with all their lung power. of course, the army cheermaster came back with a stirring west point yell, but one spectator, behind the side lines, turned and bawled at the army cheermaster: "that's right, young man! anything on earth to keep up your crowd's courage!" in the laugh that followed many a gray-clad cadet joined simply because he could not help himself. "if we don't break at some point it's all ours to-day," wolgast was informing the players nearest him. "i've never seen darry so wildly capable as he is right now. the demon of victory seems to have seized him." dave's limp had vanished. he was ready for work---aching for it. wolgast worked his left flank once more, and the army was sorely pressed. "brace up, army!" was the word passing again among the west point men. douglass, captain of the army team, was scolding under his breath. but straight on darrin and dalzell worked the ball. it was when wolgast decided to rest his left that farley and page came in for more work. these two midshipmen were excellent football men, but the army's left was well defended. the navy lost the ball on downs. but the army boys were sweating, for the navy was now within nine yards of goal line. the army fought it back, gaining just half a yard too little in three plays, so the ball came back to the blue and gold ranks of the navy. "brace, army!" was the word that cadet douglass passed. "and look out, on the right, for darrin and dalzell!" there was a feint of sending the ball to farley, but darrin had it instead. the entire army line, however, was alert for this very trick. playing in sheer desperation, the cadets stopped the midshipmen when but a yard and a half had been gained. with the next play the gain was but half a yard. the third play was blocked, and once more the cadets received the pigskin. both army and navy cheermasters now refrained from inviting din. those of the spectators who boosted for the army were now silent, straining their vision and holding their breath. it began to look, this year, as though the navy could do with the army as it pleased. wolgast lined his men up for a fierce onslaught darrin and dalzell, panting, looked like a pair who would die in their tracks ere allowing the ball to go by them. in a moment more the army signal was being called out crisply. the whistle sounded, and both elevens were in instant action. but the cadets failed to get through. the middies were driving them back. in sheer desperation the cadet with the ball turned and dropped behind the army goal line---a safety. chapter xiv the navy goat grins all at once the navy band chopped out a few swift measures of triumphant melody. the entire brigade of midshipmen cheered under its cheermaster. thousands of blue and gold navy banners fluttered through the stands. that safety had counted two on the score for the navy. given breathing time, the army now brought the ball out toward midfield, and once more the savage work began. the navy had gained ten yards, when the time-keeper signaled the end of the first period. as the players trotted off the navy was exultant, the army depressed. captain douglass was scowling. "you fellows will have to brace!" he snapped. "are you going to let the little middies run over us?" "i shall have no bad feeling, suh, if you think it well to put a fresh man in my place, suh," replied cadet anstey. "hang it, i don't want a man in your place!" retorted douglass angrily. "i want you, and every other man, anstey, to do each better work than was done in that period. hang it, fellows, the middies are making sport of us." among the navy players there was not so much talk. all were deeply contented with events so far. "i've no remarks to make, fellows," captain wolgast remarked. "you are all playing real football." "at any rate darry and his grinning twin are," chuckled jetson. "my, but you can see the hair rise on the army right flank when darry and danny leap at them!" in the second period, which started off amid wild yelling from the onlookers, the army fought hard and fiercely, holding back the navy somewhat. during the period two of the cadets were so badly hurt that the surgeons ordered them from the field. two fresh subs. came into the eleven, and after that the army seemed endowed with a run of better luck. the second period closed with no change in the score, though at the time of the timekeeper's interference the navy had the ball within eleven yards of the army goal line. "we've got the navy stopped, now, i think," murmured douglass to his west point men. "all we've got to do now is to keep 'em stopped." "if they don't break our necks, or make us stop from heart failure, suh," replied cadet anstey, with a grimace. "we've got the army tired enough. we must go after them in the third period," announced captain wolgast. but this did not happen until the third time that the navy got the pigskin. then darrin and dalzell, warned, began to run the ball down the field. here a new feint was tried. when the navy started in motion every army man was sure that wolgast was going to try to put through a center charge. it was but a ruse, however. darrin had the pigskin, and dalzell was boosting him through. the entire navy line charged with the purpose of one man. there came the impact, and then the army line went down. darrin was charging, dalzell and jetson running over all who got in the way. the halfback on that side of the field was dodged. dalzell and jetson bore down on the victim at the same instant, and dave, running to the side like a flash, had the ball over the line. wolgast himself made the kick to follow, and the score was now eight to nothing. the applause that followed was enough to turn wiser heads. when play was resumed the army was fighting mad. it was now victory or death for the soldier boys. the west point men were guilty of no fouls. they played squarely and like gentlemen, but they cared nothing for snapping muscles and sinews. before the mad work the navy was borne back. just before the close of the third period, the navy was forced to make a safety on its own account. "but wolgast was satisfied, and the navy coaches more than pleased. "there's a fourth period coming," wolgast told himself. "but for darry and his splendid interference the army would get our scalp yet. darry looks to be all right, and i believe he is. he'll hold out for the fourth." eight to two, and the game three quarters finished. the army cheermaster did his duty, but did it half dejectedly, the cadets following with rolling volumes of noise intended to mask sinking hearts. when it came the navy's turn to yell, the midshipmen risked the safety of their windpipes. the naval academy band was playing with unwonted joy. "fellows, nothing on earth will save us but a touchdown and a kick," called douglass desperately, when he got his west point men aside. "that will tie the score. it's our best chance to-day." "unless, suh," gravely observed anstey, "we can follow that by driving the midshipmen into a safety." "and we could do even that, if we had prescott and holmesy here," thought douglass, with sinking heart to himself. he was careful not to repeat that sentiment audibly. "holmesy ought to be here to-day, and working," growled one of the army subs. "he's a sneak, just to desert on mr. prescott's account." "none of that!" called doug sharply. the army head coach came along, talking quietly but forcefully to the all but discouraged cadets. then he addressed himself to douglass, explaining what he thought were next to the weakest points in the navy line. "you ought to be able to save the score yet, mr. douglass," wound up coach. "i wish some one else had the job!" sighed doug to himself. "fellows, the main game that is left," explained wolgast to the midshipmen, "is to keep west point from scoring. as to our own points, we have enough now---though more will be welcome." play began in the fourth period. at first it was nip and tuck, neck and neck. but the army braced and put the pigskin within sixteen yards of the navy's goal line. then the men from annapolis seemed suddenly to wake up. darrin, who had had little to do in the last few plays, was now sent to the front again. steadily, even brilliantly, he, dalzell and jetson figured in the limelight plays. yard after yard was gained, while the army eleven shivered. at last it came to the inevitable. the army was forced to use another safety. stinging under the sense of defeat, the cadet players put that temporary chance to such good advantage that they gradually got the pigskin over into naval territory. but there the midshipmen held it until the timekeeper interposed. the fourth period and the game were over. west point had gone down in a memorable, stinging defeat. the navy had triumphed, ten to two. what a crash came from the naval academy band! yet the military academy band, catching the spirit and the tune, joined in, and both bands blared forth, the musicians making themselves heard faintly through all the tempest of huzzas. dave darrin smiled faintly as he hurried away from the field. all his personal interest in football had vanished. he had played his last game of football and was glad that the navy had won; that was about all. yet he was not listless---far from it. on the contrary dave fairly ran to dressing quarters, hustled under a shower and then began to towel and dress. for out in the audience, well he knew, had sat belle meade and her mother. "darry, you're a wonder!" cried wolgast. "every time to-day we called upon you you were ready with the push." but dave, rushing through his dressing, barely heard this and other praise that was showered on him. "i'll get along before assembly time, davy," whispered dan dalzell. "come along now," dave called back. "oh, no! i know that you and belle want some time to yourselves," murmured dalzell wisely. "i'll get along at the proper time." dave didn't delay to argue. he stepped briskly outside, then into the field, his eyes roving over the thousands of spectators who still lingered. at last a waving little white morsel of a handkerchief rewarded darrin's search. "oh, you did just splendidly to-day," was belle's enthusiastic greeting, as dave stepped up to the young lady and her mother. "i've heard lots of men say that it was all darrin's victory." "yes; you're the hero of franklin field, this year," smiled mrs. meade. "laura bentley and her mother didn't come over?" dave inquired presently. "no; of course not----after the way that the cadets used dick prescott," returned belle. "wasn't it shameful of the cadets to treat a man like dick in that fashion?" "i have my opinion, of course," dave replied moodily, "but it's hardly for a midshipman to criticise the cadets for their own administration of internal discipline in their own corps. the absence of prescott and holmes probably cost the army the game to-day." "not a bit of it!" belle disputed warmly. "dave, don't belittle your own superb work in that fashion! the army would have lost to-day if the west point eleven had been made up exclusively of prescotts and holmeses!" as belle spoke thus warmly her gaze wandered, resting, though not by intent, on the face of a young army officer passing at that moment. "if the remark was made to me, miss," smiled the army officer, "i wish to say that i wholly agree with you. the navy's playing was the most wonderful that i ever saw." dave, in the meantime, had saluted, then stood at attention until the army officer had passed. "there!" cried belle triumphantly. "you have it from the other side, now---from the enemy." "hardly from the enemy," replied dave, laughing. "between the united states army and the united states navy there can never be a matter of enmity. annually, in football, the army and navy teams are opponents---rivals, perhaps---but never enemies." mrs. meade had strolled away for a few yards, the better to leave the young people by themselves. "dave," announced belle almost sternly, "you've simply got to say something savage about the action of the west point men in sending dick prescott to coventry." "the west point men didn't do it," rejoined dave. "it was all done by the members of the first class alone." "well, then, you must say something very disagreeable about the first class at the military academy." "but why?" persisted dave darrin. he was disgusted enough over the action of the first class cadets, but, being in the service himself, he felt it indelicate in him to criticise the action of the cadets of the united states military academy. "why?" repeated belle. "why, simply because laura bentley will insist on asking me when i get home what you had to say about dick's case. if i can't tell laura that you said something pretty nearly awful, then laura will be terribly hurt." "shall i swear?" asked dave innocently. belle opened her eyes wide in amazement. "no, you won't swear," belle retorted. "profanity isn't the accomplishment of a gentleman. but you must say something about dick's case which will show her that all of dick's friends are standing by the poor fellow." "but, belle, you know it isn't considered very manly for a fellow in one branch of the service to say anything against fellows in the other branch." "not even---for laura's sake?" "oh, well," proposed midshipman darrin, squirming about between the horns of the dilemma, "you just think of whatever will please laura most to hear from me." "yes-----?" pressed miss meade. "then tell it to her and say that i said it." "but how can i say that you said it if you didn't say it?" demanded belle, pouting prettily. "easiest thing in the world, belle. i authorize you, fully, to say whatever you like about dick, as coming from me. if i authorize you to say it, then you won't be fibbing, will you?" belle had to think that over. it was a bit of a puzzle, as must be admitted. "now, let's talk about ourselves," darrin pressed her. "i see danny boy coming, with that two-yard grin of his, and we won't have much further chance to talk about ourselves." the two young people, therefore, busied themselves with personal talk. dan drifted along, but merely raised his cap to belle, then stationed himself by mrs. meade's side. it was not until dave signaled quietly that dalzell came over to take belle's proffered hand and chat for a moment. the talk was all too short for all concerned. a call of the bugle signaled the midshipmen to leave friends and hasten back for assembly. it was not until the train had started away from philadelphia that dave and dan were all but mobbed by way of congratulation. wolgast, jetson, farley, page and others also came in for their share of good words. "and to think, darry, that you can never play on the navy eleven again!" groaned a second classman. "you'll have some one else in my place," laughed dave. "the navy never before had a football player like you, and we'll never have one again," insisted the same man. "dalzell's kind come once in about every five years, but your kind, darry, never come back---in the navy!" chapter xv dan feels as "sold" as he looks it was the first hop after the new year. "tell me one thing dave," begged belle meade, who, with laura bentley, and accompanied by mrs. meade, had come down to annapolis for this dance. "i'll tell you two things, if i know how," darrin responded promptly. "dan has danced a little with laura, to be sure, but he introduced mr. farley to her, and has written down farley's name for a lot of dances on laura's card." "farley is a nice fellow," dave replied. "but why didn't dan want more of the dances with laura, instead of turning them over to mr. farley?" followed up belle. "and---there he goes now." "farley?" "no, stupid! dan." "well, why shouldn't he move about?" midshipman darrin inquired. "but with---by the way, who is that girl, anyway?" the girl was tall, rather stately and of a pronounced blonde type. she was a girl who would have been called more than merely pretty by any one who had seen her going by on midshipman dalzell's arm. "i don't really know who she is," dave admitted. "have you seen her here before?" "yes; i think i have seen the young lady half a dozen times before to-night." "then it's odd that you don't know who she is," pursued miss meade. "i've never been introduced to her, you see." "oh! i imagined that you midshipmen were always being presented to girls." "that's a fairy tale," said dave promptly. "the average midshipman has about all he can do to hold his place here, without losing any time in running around making the acquaintances of young women who probably don't care at all about knowing him." "what i'm wondering about," belle went on, "is whether the young woman we have been discussing is any one in whom dan dalzell is seriously interested." "i'll ask dan." "oh! and i suppose you'll tell him that it's i who really want to know." "i'll tell him that, too, if you wish it." "dave, you won't even mention my name to dan in connection with any topic so silly." "all right, belle. all i want is my sailing orders. i know how to follow them." "you're teasing me," miss meade went on, pouting. "i don't mean to be curious, but i noticed that dan appears to be quite attentive to the young lady, and i was wondering whether dan had met his fate---that's all." "i don't know," smiled midshipman darrin, "and i doubt if dan does, either. he's just the kind of fellow who might ignore girls for three years, then be ardently attentive to one for three days---and forget all about her in a week." "is dan such a flirt as that?" belle demanded, looking horrified. "dan---a flirt!" chuckled dave. "i shall have to tell that to some of the fellows; it will amuse them. no; i wouldn't call dan a flirt. he's anything but that. dan will either remain a bachelor until he's past forty, or else some day he'll marry suddenly after having known the girl at least twenty-four hours. dan hasn't much judgment where girls are concerned." "he appears to be able to tell a pretty girl when he sees one," argued belle meade, turning again to survey dan's companion. belle, with the sharp eyes and keen intuition of her sex, was quite justified in believing that midshipman dalzell realized fully the charms of the girl with whom he was talking. miss catharine atterly was the only daughter of wealthy parents, though her father had started life as a poor boy. daniel atterly, however, had been shrewd enough to know the advantages of a better education than he had been able to absorb in his boyhood. miss catharine, therefore, had been trained in some of the most expensive, if not the best, schools in the country. she was a buxom, healthy girl, full of the joy of living, yet able to conceal her enthusiasm under the polish that she had acquired in the schools she had attended. miss atterly, on coming to annapolis, had conceived a considerable liking for the naval uniform, and had attracted dan to her side within the last three days. and dan had felt his heart beating faster when nearing this pretty young creature. now, he was endeavoring to display himself to the best advantage before her eyes. "you midshipmen have a very graceful knack of being charmingly attentive to the ladies," miss atterly suggested coyly. "we receive a little bit of training in social performance, if that is what you mean, miss atterly," dan replied. "and that enables you to be most delightfully attentive to every girl that comes along?" "i don't know," midshipman dalzell replied slowly. "i haven't had much experience." miss atterly laughed as though she felt certain that she knew better. "do you say that to every girl?" she asked. "i don't get many chances," dan insisted. "miss atterly, all the hops that i've attended could be counted on your fingers, without using the thumbs?" "oh, really?" "it is the truth, i assure you. some of the midshipmen attend many hops. most of us are too busy over our studies as a rule." "then you prefer books to the society of girls?" "it isn't that," replied dan, growing somewhat red under miss atterly's amused scrutiny. "the fact is that a fellow comes here to the naval academy for the purpose of becoming an officer in the navy." "to be sure." "and, unless the average fellow hugs his books tightly he doesn't have any show to get through and become an officer. there are some fellows, of course, to whom the studies come easily. with most of us it's a terrible grind. even with the grind about forty per cent. of the fellows who enter the naval academy are found deficient and are dropped. if you are interested in knowing, i had a fearful time in keeping up with the requirements." "oh, you poor boy!" cried miss atterly half tenderly. "i never felt that i wanted any sympathy," dan declared stoutly. "if i couldn't keep up, then the only thing to do was to go back to civil life and find my own level among my own kind." "now, that was truly brave in you!" declared miss atterly, admiration shining in her eyes. "there's the music starting," dan hastily reminded her. "our dance." "would it seem disagreeable in me if i asked you to sit out this number with me?" inquired the girl. "the truth is, i can dance any evening, but you and your brave fight here, mr. dalzell, interest me---oh, more than i can tell you!" under this line of conversation midshipman dalzell soon began to feel highly uncomfortable. miss atterly, however, in getting dan to talk of the midshipman and the naval life, soon had him feeling at his ease. nor could dalzell escape noticing the fact that miss atterly appeared to enjoy his company hugely. then dan was led on into talking of the life of the naval officer at sea, and he spoke eloquently. "a life of bravery and daring," commented miss atterly thoughtfully. "yet, after all, i would call it rather a lonely life." "perhaps it will prove so," dalzell assented. "yet it is all the life that i look forward to. it's all the life that i care about." "despite the loneliness---or rather, because of it---it will seem all the finer and more beautiful to come home to wife and children," said miss atterly after a pause. "nearly all naval officers marry, don't they?" "i---i believe they do," dalzell stammered. "i---i never asked any naval officers for statistics." "now, you are becoming droll," cried miss atterly, her laughter ringing out. "i didn't mean to be," dan protested. "i beg your pardon." whereat miss atterly laughed more than ever. "i like you even better when you're droll," miss atterly informed him. something in the way that she said it pleased midshipman dalzell so immensely that he began to notice, more than before, what a very fine girl miss atterly was. then, to win her applause, dan made the mistake of trying to be funny, whereat the girl was extremely kind. "dave," whispered belle soon after the music had stopped, "i can't get away from the belief that dan's companion is leading him on. see! dan now looks at her almost adoringly." laura bentley, too, had noticed dan's preoccupation, but she merely smiled within herself. she did not believe that dan could really be serious where girls were concerned. now, as laura's midshipman partner led her to a seat, and soon left her, dan, tearing himself away from miss atterly, came to remind laura that his name was written on her card for the next dance. "very fine girl i've been talking with, laura," dan confided in the straightforward way that he had always used with miss bentley, who was such a very old school friend. "she certainly is very pretty," laura nodded. "and---er---distinguished looking, don't you think?" dan ventured. "yes, indeed." "but i was speaking more of her character---at least, her disposition. miss atterly is highly sympathetic. i wish you'd meet her, laura." "i shall be delighted to do so, dan." "after this dance, then? and i want belle to meet her, too. miss atterly has noticed you both, and was much interested when she learned that you were old school-day friends of mine." so, after the music had ceased, dan escorted laura over to where dave and belle were chatting. "belle," asked dan in his most direct way, "will you come and be introduced to miss atterly?" "the young lady you've been dancing with so much?" miss meade inquired. "the tall, stately blonde?" "yes," dan nodded. "i shall be glad to meet miss atterly. but how about her? do you think she could stand the shock?" "miss atterly is very anxious to meet you both," dalzell assured belle. "take me over and shock her, then," laughed belle. dan stood gazing about the scene. "i---i wonder where miss atterly is?" dan mused aloud. "oh, i can tell you," belle answered. "a moment ago she went through the entrance over yonder." "alone?" "no; an older woman, probably miss atterly's mother, was with her." "oh! let's look them up, then, if you don't mind." as belle rose, taking dave's arm, dan and laura took the lead. just beyond the entrance that belle had indicated no one else was in sight when the four young friends reached the spot. there was a clump of potted tropical shrubbery at one side. on the other side of this shrubbery sat mrs. and miss atterly, engaged in conversation. "why do you prefer to sit in this out-of-the-way place, catharine?" her mother inquired, just as the young people came up. "i want to get away from two rather goodlooking but very ordinary girls that mr. dalzell wants to present to me, mamma," she replied. "if they are midshipmen's friends are they too ordinary to know?" inquired mrs. atterly. "mamma, if i am going to interest mr. dalzell, i don't want other girls stepping in at every other moment. i don't want to know his girl friends." "are you attracted to mr. dalzell, cathy?" asked her mother. "not especially, i assure you, mamma." "oh, then it is not a serious affair." "it may be," laughed the girl lightly. "if i can learn to endure mr. dalzell, then i may permit him to marry me when he is two years older and has his commission." "even if you don't care much for him?" asked mrs. atterly, almost shocked. "if i marry," pouted miss atterly, "i don't want a husband that leaves the house every morning, and returns every evening." "cathy!" "well, i don't! in some ways i suppose it's nice to be a married woman. one has more freedom in going about alone. now, a naval officer, mamma, would make the right sort of husband for me. he'd be away, much of the time, on long cruises." "but i understand, cathy, that sometimes a naval officer has a year or two of shore duty." "if that happened," laughed the girl, "i could take a trip to europe couldn't i? and the social position of a naval officer isn't a bad one. his wife enjoys the same social position, you know, mamma." "yet why mr. dalzell, if you really don't care anything about him?" "because he's so simple, mamma. he would be dreadfully easy to manage!" the four young people looking for the atterlys had unavoidably heard every word. they halted, dan violently red in the face. then laura, with quick tact, wheeled about and led the way back to the ball room floor. "better luck next time, dan," whispered belle, gripping dalzell's arm. "don't you think twice is enough for a simpleton like me?" blurted midshipman dan. chapter xvi the day of many doubts busy days followed, days which, for some of the first classmen, were filled with a curious discontent. some, to be sure, among these midshipmen soon to graduate, took each day as it came, with little or no emotion. to them the naval life ahead was coming only as a matter of course. there were others, however---and dave darrin was among them---who looked upon a commission as an officer of the navy as a sacred trust given them by the nation. dave darrin was one of those who, while standing above the middle of his class, yet felt that he had not made sufficiently good use of his time. to his way of thinking there was an appalling lot in the way of naval duties that he did not understand. "i may get through here, and out of here, and in another couple of years be a line or engineer officer," midshipman darrin confided to his chum and roommate one day. "but i shall be only a half-baked sort of officer." "well, are cubs ever anything more?" demanded dan. "yes; wolgast, for instance, is going to be something more. so will fenton and day, and several others whom i could name." "and so is darrin," confidently predicted midshipman dalzell. but dave shook his head. "no, no, danny boy. the time was when i might have believed extremely well of myself, but that day has gone by. when i entered the naval academy i probably thought pretty well of myself. i've tried to keep up with the pace here-----" "and you've done it, and are going to do it right along," interjected midshipman dalzell. "no; it almost scares me when i look over the subjects that i'm not really fit in. it's spring, now, and i'm only a few weeks away from graduation, only something like two years this side of a commission as ensign, and---and---dan, i wonder if i'm honestly fit to command a rowboat." "you've got a brief grouch against yourself, davy," muttered dan. "no; but i think i know what a naval officer should be, and i also know how far short i fall of what i should be." "if you get your diploma," argued midshipman dalzell, "the faculty of the naval academy will testify on the face of it that you're a competent midshipman and on your way to being fit to hold an ensign's commission presently." "but that's just the point, danny. i shall know, myself, that i'm only a poor, dub sort of naval officer. i tell you, danny, i don't know enough to be a good naval officer." "then that's a reflection on your senior officers who have had your training on hand," grinned dalzell. "if you talk in the same vein after you've gotten your diploma, it will amount to a criticism of the intelligence of your superior officers. and that's something that's wisely forbidden by the regulations." dan picked up a text-book and opened it, as though he believed that he had triumphantly closed the discussion. midshipman darrin, however, was not to be so easily silenced. "then, if you're not fitted to be a naval officer," blurted dalzell, "what on earth can be said of me?" "you may not stand quite as high as i do, on mere markings," dave assented. "but there are a lot of things, danny, that you know much better than i do." "name one of them," challenged dalzell. "well, steam engineering, for instance. now, i'm marked higher in that than you are, danny. yet, when the engine on one of the steamers goes wrong you can hunt around until you get the engine to running smoothly. you're twice as clever at that as i am." "not all naval officers are intended to be engineer officers," grunted midshipman dalzell. "if you don't feel clever enough in that line, just put in your application for watch officer's work." "take navigation," dave continued. "i stand just fairly well in the theory of the thing. but i've no real knack with a sextant." "well, the sextant is only a hog-yoke," growled dalzell. "yes; but i shiver every time i pick up the hog-yoke under the watchful gaze of an instructor." "humph! only yesterday i heard lieutenant-commander richards compliment you for your work in nav." "yes; but that was the mathematical end. i'm all right on the paper end and the theoretical work, but it's the practical end that i'm afraid of." "you'll get plenty of the practical work as soon as you graduate and get to sea," dan urged. "yes; and very likely make a chump of myself, like digby, of last year's class. did you hear what he did in nav.?" "no," replied dalzell, looking up with real interest this times "if digby made a fool of himself i'll be glad to hear about it, for dig was always just a little bit too chesty to suit me." "well, dig wasn't a bit chesty the first day that he was ordered to shoot the sun," dave laughed. "dig took the sextant, and made a prize shot, or thought he did. after he had got the sun, plumb at noon, he lowered the instrument and made his reading most carefully. then he went into the chart room, and got busy with his calculations. the longer dig worked the worse his head ached. he stared at his figures, tore them up and tried again. six or eight times he worked the problem over, but always with the same result. the navigating officer, who had worked the thing out in two minutes, sat back in his chair and looked bored. you see, dig's own eyes had told him that the ship was working north, and about five miles off the coast of new jersey. but his figures told him that the ship was anchored in the old fourth ward of the city of newark. try as he would, dig couldn't get the battleship away from that ward." dan dalzell leaned back, laughing uproariously at the mental picture that this story of midshipman digby brought up in his mind. "it sounds funny, when you hear it," dave went on. "but i sometimes shiver over the almost certainty that i'm going to do something just as bad when i get to sea. if i get sent to the engine room i'll be likely to fill the furnaces with water and the boilers with coal." "rot!" objected dan. "you're not crazy---not even weak-minded." "or else, if i'm put to navigating, i'm fairly likely to bring the battleship into violent collision with the chicago limited, over in ohio." "come out of that funk, davy!" ordered his chum. "i'm trying to, danny boy; but there's many an hour when i feel that i haven't learned here all that i should have learned, and that i'll be miles behind the newest ensigns and lieutenants." "there's just about one thing for you to do, then," proposed dan. "resign?" queried darrin, looking quizzically at his chum. "not by a long sight. just go in for a commission as second lieutenant of marines. you can get that and hold it. a marine officer doesn't have to know anything but the manual of arms and a few other little simple things." "but a marine officer isn't a real sailor, danny. he lives and works on a warship, to be sure, but he's more of a soldier. now, as it happens, my whole heart and soul are wrapped up in being a naval officer---a real naval officer." "with that longing, and an annapolis diploma," teased dalzell, "there is just one thing to do." "what?" "beat your way to the realization of your dream. you've got a thundering good start." midshipman dave darrin was not the kind to communicate his occasional doubts to anyone except his roommate. had darrin talked on the subject with other members of his class he would have found that many of his classmates were tortured by the same doubts that assailed him. with midshipmen who were destined to get their diplomas such doubts were to be charged only to modesty, and were therefore to their credit. yet, every spring dozens of annapolis first classmen are miserable, instead of feeling the joyous appeal of the budding season. they are assailed by just such fears as had reached dave darrin. dalzell, on the other hand, was tortured by no such dreads. he went hammering away with marvelous industry, and felt sure, in his own mind, that he would be retired, in his sixties, an honored rear admiral. had there been only book studies some of the first classmen would have broken down under the nervous strain. however, there was much to be done in the shops---hard, physical labor, that had to be performed in dungaree clothing; toil of the kind that plastered the hard-worked midshipmen with grime and soot. there were drills, parades, cross-country marches. the day's work at the naval academy, at any season of the year, is arranged so that hard mental work is always followed by lively physical exertion, much of it in the open air. dalzell, returning one afternoon from the library encountered midshipman farley, who was looking unaccountably gloomy. "what's the trouble, farl---dyspepsia?" grinned dan, linking one arm through his friend's. "own up!" "danny, i'm in the dumps," confessed farley. "i hate to acknowledge it, but i've been fearfully tempted, for the last three days, to send in my resignation." "what's her name?" grinningly demanded dalzell, who had bravely recovered from his own two meetings with venus. "it isn't a girl---bosh!" jeered farley. "there's only one girl in the world i'm interested in---and she's my kid sister." "then why this talk of resigning." "danny, i'm simply afraid that i'm not made of the stuff to make a competent naval officer. my markings are all right, but i know that i don't know enough to take a sailboat out and bring it back." "oh, is that all?" cried dalzell laughingly. "then i know just what you want." "what?" "drop into our room and have a talk with darry. dave knows just how to comfort and cheer a fellow who has that glum bug in his head of cabbage. come right along!" dan almost forced farley to the door of the room, opened it and shoved the modest midshipman inside. "darry," dan called joyously, "here's a case for your best talents. farley has a pet bee in his bonnet that he isn't fit to be a naval officer. he doesn't know enough. so he's going to resign. i've told him you'll know just how to handle his case. go after him, now!" midshipman dalzell pulled the door shut, chuckling softly to himself, and marched back to the library. it was just before the call for supper formation when dan returned from "boning" in the library. "did you brace farl up, davy?" demanded dan. "you grinning idiot!" laughed darrin. "what on earth made you bring him to me?" "because i thought you needed each other." "well, perhaps we did," laughed midshipman darrin. "at any rate i've been hammering at farl all the time that he wasn't hammering at me. i certainly feel better, and i hope that he does." "you both needed the same thing," declared dan, grinning even more broadly as he picked up his hair brushes. "what did we need?" "you've both been studying so hard that your brain cells are clogged." "but what did farley and i both need?" insisted midshipman darrin. "mental exercise---brain-sparring," rejoined dalzell. "you both needed something that could take you out of the horrible daily grooves that you've been sailing in lately. you both needed something to stir you up---and i hope you gave each other all the excitement you could." in the way of a stirring-up something was about to happen that was going to stir up the whole first class---if not the entire brigade. nor was dave darrin to escape being one of the central figures in the excitement. here is the way in which the whole big buzzing-match got its start and went on to a lively finish. chapter xvii mr. clairy deals in outrages "mr. darrin!" with that hail proceeded sharply from the lips of a first classman, who on this evening happened to be the midshipman in charge of the floor. clairy sat at his desk in the corridor, his eyes on a novel until dave happened along. as he gave the sharp hail mr. clairy thrust his novel under a little pile of text-books. "well, sir?" inquired dave, halting. "mr. darrin, what do you mean by coming down the corridor with both shoes unlaced." "they are not unlaced," retorted dave, staring in amazement at midshipman clairy. "they are not now---true." "and they haven't been unlaced, sir, since i first laced them on rising this morning." "don't toy with the truth, mr. darrin!" rang clairy's voice sternly. "if my shoes had been unlaced, they would still be unlaced, wouldn't they, sir?" demanded dave. "no; for you have laced them since i spoke to you about it!" this was entirely too much for darrin, who gulped, gasped, and then stared again at the midshipman in charge of the floor. then, suddenly, a light dawned on dave. he grinned almost as broadly as dan dalzell could have done. "come, come, now, clairy!" chided dave. "what on earth is the joke---and why?" midshipman clairy straightened himself, his eyes flashing and his whole appearance one of intense dignity. "mr. darrin, there is no joke about it, as you are certainly aware, sir. and i must call your attention to the fact that it is bad taste to address a midshipman familiarly when he is on official duty." "why, hang you---" dave broke forth utterly aghast. "stop, sir!" commanded mr. clairy, rising. "mr. darrin, you will place yourself on report for strolling along the corridor with both shoes unlaced. you will also place yourself on report for impertinence in answering the midshipman in charge of the floor." "but-----" "go at once, sir, and place yourself on report" dave meditated, for two or three seconds, over the advisability of knocking mr. clairy down. but familiarity with the military discipline of the naval academy immediately showed darrin that his only present course was to obey. "i wonder who's loony now?" hummed dave to himself, as he marched briskly along on his way to the office of the officer in charge. there be picked up two of the report slips, dipping a pen in ink. first, in writing, he reported himself on the charge of having his shoes unlaced. in the space for remarks darrin wrote tersely: "untrue." against the charge of unwarranted impertinence to the midshipman in charge of the floor dave wrote the words: "impertinence admitted, but in my opinion entirely warranted." so utterly astounded was darrin by this queer turn of affairs, that he forgot the matter that had taken him from his room. on his way back he met midshipman page. on the latter's face was a look as black as a thundercloud. "what on earth is wrong, page?" darrin asked. "i've got the material for a first-class fight on my hands," page answered, his eyes flashing. "what---" "clairy has ordered me to report myself." "what does he say you were doing that you weren't doing?" inquired midshipman darrin, a curious look in his eyes. "clairy has the nerve to state that i was coming along the corridor with my blouse unbuttoned. he ordered me to button it up, which i couldn't do since it was already buttoned. but he declared that i buttoned it up while facing him, and so i'm on my way to place myself on report for an offense that i didn't commit." "clairy just sent me to the o.c. to frap the pap for having my shoes unlaced," remarked dave, his face flushing darkly. "what on earth is clairy up to?" cried page. "i don't know. i can't see his game clearly. but he's certainly hunting trouble." "then-----" "see here, page, we've no business holding indignation meetings in study hours. but come to my room just as soon as release sounds---will you?" "you can wager that i will," shot back midshipman page as he started along the corridor. "hello," hailed midshipman dalzell, looking up as his chum entered. "why, darry, you're angry---really angry. who has dared throw spitballs at you?" "quit your joking, dan!" returned dave darrin, his voice quivering. "clairy is hunting real trouble, i imagine, and i fancy he'll have to be obliged." dave thereupon related swiftly what had happened, dan staring in sheer amazement. then dalzell jumped up. "where are you going?" darrin answered. "to interview clairy." "you'd better not, dan. the trouble is thick enough already." "i'm going to interview clairy---perhaps," retorted midshipman dalzell. "i've just thought of a perfectly good excuse for being briefly out of quarters during study hours. i'll be back soon---perhaps with some news." off dan posted. in less than ten minutes he returned, looking even more indignant than had his chum. "davy," broke forth dalzell hotly, "that idiot is surely hunting all the trouble there is in annapolis." "he went after you, then?" "i was making believe to march straight by the fellow's desk," resumed dan, "when clairy brought me up sharply. told me to frap the pap for strolling with my hands in my pockets. i didn't do anything like that." in another hour indignation was running riot in that division. midshipman clairy had ordered no less than eight first classmen to put themselves on report for offenses that none of them would admit having committed. oh, but there was wrath boiling in the quarters occupied by those eight first classmen. immediately after release had sounded, page and farley made a bee-line for dave's room. "did clairy wet you, farley?" demanded darrin. "no; i haven't been out of my room until just now." "page," continued darrin, "circulate rapidly in first class rooms on this deck and find out whether clairy improperly held up any more of the fellows. dan was a victim, too." page had five first classmen on the scene in a few minutes. the meeting seemed doomed to resolve itself into a turmoil of angry language. "clairy is a hound!" "a liar in my case!" "he's hunting a fight!" "coventry would do him more good." "yes; we'll have to call the class to deal with this." "the scoundrel!" "the pup!" "he's trying to pile some of us up with so many demerits that we won't be able to graduate." "oh, well," argued page, "fenwick has hit it. we can't fight such a lying hound. all we can do is to get the class out and send the fellow to coventry." "what do you imagine it all means, darry?" questioned fenwick. dave's wrath had had time to simmer down, and he was cooler now. "i wish i knew what to think, fellows," dave answered slowly. "clairy has never shown signs of doing such things before." "he has always been a sulk, and never had a real friend in the class," broke in farley. "he has always been quiet and reticent," dave admitted. "but we never before had any real grievance against mr. clairy." "we have a grievance now, all right!" glowered page. "coventry, swift and tight, is the only answer to the situation." "let's not be in too much haste, fellows," darrin urged. "you---you give such advice as that?" gasped midshipman dalzell. "why, davy, the fellow went for you in fearful shape. he insulted you outrageously." "i know he did," darrin responded. "that's why i believe in going slowly in the matter." "now, why?" hissed page. "why on earth---why?" "clairy must have had some motive behind his attack," dave urged. "it couldn't have been a good motive, anyway," broke in another midshipman hotly. "never mind that part of it, just now," dave darrin retorted. "fellows, i, for one, don't like to go after mr. clairy too hastily while we're all in doubt about the cause of it." "we don't need to know the cause," stormed indignant farley. "we know the results, and that's enough for us. i favor calling a class meeting to-morrow night." "we can do just as much, and act just as intelligently, if we hold the class-meeting off for two or three nights," midshipman darrin maintained. "now, why on earth should we bold off that long?" insisted fenwick. "we know, now, that mr. clairy has insulted eight members of our class. we know that he has lied about them, and that the case is so bad as to require instant attention. all i'm sorry for is that it's too late to hold the class meeting within the next five minutes." dave found even his own roommate opposed to delay in dealing with the preposterous case of the outrageous mr. clairy. yet such was darrin's ascendency over his classmates in matters of ethics and policy, that he was able, before taps, to bring the rest around to his wish for a waiting programme for two or three days. "there'll be some explanation of this," dave urged, when he had gotten his comrades into a somewhat more reasonable frame of mind. "the explanation will have to be sought with fists," grumbled fenwick. "and there are eight of us, while clairy has only two eyes that can be blackened." the news had spread, of course, and the first class was in a fury of resentment against one of its own members. meanwhile midshipman clairy sat at his desk out in the corridor, clearly calm and indifferent to all the turmoil that his acts had stirred up in the brigade. chapter xviii the whole class takes a hand "then, mr. darrin, you admit the use of impertinent language to mr. clairy, when the midshipman was in charge of the floor?" this question was put to dave, the following morning, by the commandant of midshipmen. "it would have been an impertinence, sir, under ordinary conditions," darrin answered. "under the circumstances i believed, sir, that i had been provoked into righteous anger." "you still assert that mr. clairy's charge that your shoes were unlaced when you approached him was false?" "absolutely false, sir." "do you wish any time to reflect over that answer, mr. darrin?" "no, sir." "you are willing your answer should go on record, then?" "my denial of the charge of having my shoes unlaced is the only answer that i can possibly make, sir." the commandant reflected. then he directed that midshipman clairy be ordered to report to him. clairy came, almost immediately. the commandant questioned him closely. clairy still stuck resolutely to his story that dave darrin had been passing through the corridor with his shoes unlaced; and, furthermore, that darrin, when rebuked and ordered to place himself on report, had used impertinent language. during this examination the midshipmen did not glance toward each other. both stood at attention, their glances on the commandant's face. "i do not know what to say," the officer admitted at last. "i will take the matter under advisement. you may both go." outside, well away from the office, dave darrin halted, swinging and confronting clairy sternly. "you lying scoundrel!" vibrated darrin, his voice shaking with anger. "it constitutes another offense, mr. darrin, to use such language for the purpose of intimidating a midshipman in the performance of his duty," returned midshipman clairy, looking back steadily into dave's eyes. "an offense? fighting is another, under a strict interpretation of the rules," dave replied coldly. "and i do not intend to fight you," replied clairy, still speaking smoothly. "perhaps i should know better than to challenge you," replied midshipman darrin. "the spirit of the brigade prohibits my fighting any one who is not a gentleman." "if that is all you have to say, mr. darrin, i will leave you. you cannot provoke me into any breach of the regulations." clairy walked away calmly, leaving dave darrin fuming with anger. page was sent for next, then dalzell. both denied utterly the charges on which clairy had ordered them to report themselves. again mr. clairy was sent for, and once more he asserted the complete truthfulness of his charges. it was so in the cases of the five remaining midshipmen under charges, though still mr. clairy stuck to the correctness of the report. action in all of the eight cases was suspended by the commandant, who went post-haste to the superintendent. that latter official, experienced as he was in the ways of midshipmen, could offer no solution of the mystery. "you see, my dear graves," explained the superintendent, "it is the rule of custom here, and a safe rule at that, to accept the word of a midshipman as being his best recollection or knowledge of the truth of any statement that he makes. in that case, we would seem to be bound to accept the statements of mr. clairy." on the other hand, we are faced with the fact that we must accept the statements made by mr. darrin, mr. page, mr. dalzell, mr. fenwick and others. we are on the horns of a dilemma, though i doubt not that we shall find a way out of it." "there appears, sir, to be only the statement of one midshipman against the word of eight midshipmen," suggested the commandant. "not exactly that," replied the superintendent. "the fact is that mr. clairy's charges do not concern the eight midshipmen collectively, but individually. had mr. clairy charged all eight of the midshipmen of an offense committed at the same time and together, and had the eight midshipmen all denied it, then we should be reluctantly compelled to admit the probability that mr. clairy had been lying. but his charges relate to eight different delinquencies, and not one of the eight accused midshipmen is in a position to act as witness for any of the other accused men." "then what are we going to do, sir?" "i will admit that i do not yet know," replied the superintendent. "some method of getting at the truth in the matter is likely to occur to us later on. in the meantime, graves, you will not publish any punishments for the reported delinquencies." "very good, sir," nodded the commandant. "keep your wits at work for a solution of the mystery, graves." "i will, sir." "and i will give the matter all the attention that i can," was the superintendent's last word. if anger had been at the boiling point before, the situation was even worse now. page and fenwick openly challenged clairy to fight. he replied, in each case, with a cool, smiling refusal. "we've got to hold that class meeting!" growled farley. "why?" inquired dave. "the class can't do anything more to clairy than has already been done. his refusals to fight will send him to coventry as securely as could action by all four of the classes. no fellow here can refuse to fight, unless he couples with his refusal an offer to submit the case to his own class for action. no one, henceforth, will have a word to say to clairy." "perhaps not; but i still insist that the class meeting ought to be called." this was the general sentiment among the first classmen. darrin was the only real dissenter to the plan. "oh, well, go ahead and call the class together, if you like," agreed dave. "my main contention is that such a meeting will be superfluous. the action of the class has really been taken already." "will you come to the meeting, darry?" asked fenwick. "really, i don't know," dave answered thoughtfully. "my presence would do neither good nor harm. the action of the class has already been decided. in fact, it has been put into effect." "then you won't be there?" spoke up farley. "i don't know. i'll come, however, if it will please any of you especially." "oh, bother you, darry! we're not going to beg your presence as a favor." at formation for dinner, when the brigade adjutant published the orders, every midshipman in the long ranks of the twelve companies waited eagerly to learn what had been done in the cases of the eight midshipmen. they were doomed to disappointment, however. at brigade formation for supper notice of a meeting of the first class in recreation hall was duly published. there was rather an unwonted hush over the tables that night. immediately afterwards groups of midshipmen were seen strolling through the broad foyer of bancroft hall, and up the low steps into recreation hall. yet it was some ten minutes before there was anything like a full gathering of the first class. "order!" rapped the class president then, after glancing around: "is mr. clairy present?" he was not. "where's darry?" buzzed several voices. but dave darrin was not present either. "where is he?" several demanded of dan. "blessed if i know," dan answered. "i wish i did, fellows." "isn't darry going to attend?" "i don't know that, either." midshipman gosman now claimed the floor. he spoke a good deal as though he had been retained as advocate for the eight accused midshipmen. in a fiery speech mr. gosman recited that eight different members of the class had been falsely accused by mr. clairy. "there are not eight liars in our class," declared midshipman gosman, with very telling effect. then, after more fiery words aimed at clairy, mr. gosman demanded: "why is not mr. clairy here to speak for himself? let him who can answer this! further, mr. clairy has been challenged to fight by some of those whom be accused. now, sir and classmates, a midshipman may refuse to fight, but if he does he must submit his case to his class, and then be guided by the class decision as to whether he must fight or not. mr. clairy has not done this." "he's a cur!" shouted a voice. "i accept the remark," bowed mr. gosman, "if i am permitted to express the class's apology to all dogs for the comparison." "good!" yelled several. "mr. president and classmates," continued the angry orator, "i believe we are all of one mind, and i believe that i can express the unanimous sentiment of the first class." "you can!" "you bet you can!" "go ahead!" "mr. president, i take it upon myself to move that the first class should, and hereby does, send mr. clairy to coventry for all time to come!" "second the motion!" cried several voices. then a diversion was created. one of the big doors opened and a midshipman stepped into the room, closing the door. that midshipman was dave darrin. every first classman in the room felt certain that darrin had entered for the express purpose of saying something of consequence. chapter xix midshipman darrin has the floor but dave did not speak at first. advancing only a short distance into the hall he stood with arms folded, his face well-nigh expressionless. for a moment the class president glanced at darrin, then at the assemblage. "gentlemen," announced the class president, "you have heard the motion, that mr. clairy be sent to coventry for all time to come. the motion has been duly seconded. remarks are in order." "mr. president!" it was dave who had spoken. all eyes were turned in his direction at once. "mr. darrin," announced the chair. "mr. president, and classmates, i, for one, shall vote against the motion." an angry clamor rose, followed by calls of, "question! put the motion!" "do any of you know," darrin continued, "why mr. clairy is not here this evening?" "he's afraid to come!" "did any of you note that mr. clairy was not at supper?" "the hound hadn't any appetite," jeered fenwick angrily. "you have observed, of course, that mr. clairy was not here at the meeting?" "he didn't dare come!" cried several voices. "if you have any explanation to make, mr. darrin, let us have it," urged the chair. "mr. president and classmates," midshipman darrin continued, "all along i have felt that there must be some explanation to match mr. clairy's most extraordinary conduct. i now offer you the explanation. the officer in charge sent for me, to impart some information that i am requested to repeat before this meeting." "go on!" cried several curious voices when dave paused for a moment. "fellows, i hate to tell you the news, and you will all be extremely sorry to hear it. you will be glad, however, that you did not pass the motion now before the class. mr. president, i have to report, at the request of the officer in charge, the facts in mr. clairy's case. "from the peculiar nature of the case both the superintendent and the commandant of midshipmen were convinced that there was something radically wrong with mr. clairy." "humph! i should say so!" uttered penwick, with emphasis. "mr. clairy was not at our mess at supper," resumed dave darrin, "for the very simple reason that he had been taken to hospital. there he was examined by three surgeons, assisted by an outside specialist. mr. president and classmates, i know you will all feel heartily sorry for clairy when i inform you that he has been pronounced insane." dave ceased speaking, and an awed silence prevailed. it was the chair who first recovered his poise. "clairy insane!" cried the class president. "gentlemen, now we comprehend what, before, it was impossible to understand." in the face of this sudden blow to a classmate all the midshipmen sat for a few minutes more as if stunned. then they began to glance about at each other. "i think this event must convince us, sir," darrin's voice broke in, "that we young men don't know everything, and that we should learn to wait for facts before we judge swiftly." "mr. president!" it was gosman, on his feet. in a husky voice that midshipman begged the consent of his seconders for his withdrawing the motion he had offered sending midshipman clairy to coventry. in a twinkling that motion had been withdrawn. "will mr. darrin, state, if able, how serious clairy's insanity is believed to be?" inquired the chair. "it is serious enough to ruin all his chances in the navy," dave answered, "though the surgeons believe that, after clairy has been taken by his friends to some asylum, his cure can eventually be brought about." the feeling in the room was too heavy for more discussion. a motion to adjourn was offered and carried, after which the first classmen hurried from the room. of course no demerits were imposed as a result of the crazy reports ordered by midshipman clairy on that memorable night. three days later the unfortunate young man's father arrived and had his son conveyed from annapolis. it may interest the reader to know that, two years later, the ex-midshipman fully recovered his reason, and is now successfully engaged in business. spring now rapidly turned into early summer. the baseball squad had been at work for some time. both darrin and dalzell had been urged to join. "let's go into the nine, if we can make it---and we ought to," urged dan. "you go ahead, danny boy, if you're so inclined," replied dave. "aren't you going in?" "i have decided not to." "you're a great patriot for the naval academy, davy." "i'm looking out for myself, i'll admit. i want to graduate as high in my class as i can, danny. yet i'd sacrifice my own desires if the naval academy needed me on the nine. however, i'm not needed. there are several men on the nine who play ball better than i but don't let me keep you off the nine, dan." "if you stay off i guess i will," replied dalzell. "if the nine doesn't need you then it doesn't need me." "but i thought you wanted to play." "not unless you and i could be the battery, david, little giant. i'd like to catch your pitching, but i don't want to stop any other fellow's pitching." so far the nine had gone on without them. realizing how much dan wanted to play with the navy team in this, their last year, dave changed his mind, and both joined. a very creditable showing was made after their entrance into the nine. that year the navy captured more than half the games played, though the navy was fated to lose to the army by a score of four to three. this game is described in detail in "_dick prescott's fourth year at west point_." with the approach of graduation time dave's heart was gladdened by the arrival in annapolis of belle meade and her mother, who stopped at the maryland house. dave saw them on the only days when it was possible---that is to say, on saturdays and sundays. he had many glimpses of his sweetheart, however, at other times, for belle, filled with the fascination of naval life, came often with her mother to watch the outdoor drills. when dave saw her at such times, however, he was obliged to act as though he did not. not by look or sign could he convey any intimation that he was doing anything but pay the strictest heed to duty. then came the saturday before examination. dave darrin, released after dinner, would gladly have hurried away from the academy grounds to visit his sweetheart in town, but belle willed it otherwise. "these are your last days here, dave," whispered belle, as she and her handsome midshipman strolled about. "if i'm to share your life with you, i may as well begin by sharing the naval academy with you to-day." "shall we go over to the field and watch the ball game when it starts?" darrin asked. "not unless you very especially wish to," miss meade replied. "i'd rather have you to myself than to share your attention with a ball game." so, though midshipman dave was interested in the outcome of the game, he decided to wait for the score when it had been made. "where's dan to-day?" belle inquired. "over at the ball game." "alone?" "no; the brigade is with him, or he's with the brigade," laughed darrin. "then he's not there with a girl?" "oh, no; i think danny's second experience has made him a bit skeptical about girls." "and how are you, on that point, mr. darrin?" teased belle, gazing up at him mirthfully. "you know my sentiments, as to myself, belle. as for dan---well, i think it beyond doubt that he will do well to wait for several years before he allows himself to be interested in any girls." "why?" "well, because danny's judgment is bad in that direction. and he's pretty sure to be beaten out by any determined rival. you see, when danny gets interested in a girl, he doesn't really know whether he wants her. from a girl's point of view what do you think of that failing, belle?" "i am afraid the girl is not likely to feel complimented." "so," pursued dave, "while danny is really interested in a girl, but is uneasily unable to make up his mind, the girl is pretty sure to grow tired of him and take up with the more positive rival." "poor dan is not likely to have a bride early in life," sighed belle. "oh, yes; one very excellent bride for a naval officer to have." "what is that?" "his commission. dan, if he keeps away from too interesting girls, will have some years in which to fit himself splendidly in his profession. by that time he'll be all the better equipped for taking care of a wife." "i wonder," pondered belle, "what kind of wife dan will finally choose." "he won't have anything to do with the choosing," laughed darrin. "one of these days some woman will choose him, and then dan will be anchored for life. it is even very likely that he'll imagine that he selected his wife from among womankind, but he won't have much to say about it." "you seem to think dan is only half witted," belle remarked. "only where women are concerned, belle. in everything else he's a most capable young american. he's going to be a fine naval officer." in another hour belle had changed her mind. she had seen all of the academy grounds that she cared about for a while, and now proposed that they slip out through the maryland avenue gate for a walk through the shaded, sweet scented streets of annapolis. as darrin had town liberty the plan pleased him. strolling slowly the young people at last neared state circle. "i thought midshipmen didn't tell fibs," suddenly remarked belle. "they're not supposed to," dave replied. "but you said dan was at the ball game." "isn't he?" "look there!" belle exclaimed dramatically. chapter xx dan steers on the rocks again just entering wiegard's were midshipman dalzell and a very pretty young woman. dan had not caught sight of his approaching friends. "why, that fellow told me he was going to see if he couldn't be the mascot for a winning score to-day," dave exclaimed. "but he didn't say that the score was to be won in a ball game, did he?" belle queried demurely. "now i think of it, he didn't mention ball," darrin admitted. "but i thought it was the game down on the academy athletic field." "no; it was very different kind of game," belle smiled. "dave, you'll find that dan is incurable. he's going to keep on trying with women until-----" "until he lands one?" questioned dave. "no; until one lands him. dave, i wonder if it would be too terribly prying if we were to turn into wiegard's too?" "i don't see any reason why it should be," darrin answered. "mr. wiegard conducts a public confectioner's place. it's the approved place for any midshipman to take a young lady for ice cream. do you feel that you'd like some ice cream?" "no," belle replied honestly. "but i'd like to get a closer look at dan's latest." so dave led his sweetheart into wiegard's. in order to get a seat at a table it was necessary to pass the table at which dan and his handsome friend were seated. as dalzell's back was toward the door he did not espy his friends until they were about to pass. "why, hello, darry!" cried dan, rising eagerly, though his cheeks flushed a bit. "how do you do, miss meade? miss henshaw, may i present my friends? miss meade and mr. darrin." the introduction was pleasantly acknowledged all around. miss henshaw proved wholly well-bred and at ease. "won't you join us here?" asked dalzell, trying hard to conceal the fact that he didn't want any third and fourth parties. "i know you'll excuse us," answered dave, bowing, "and i feel certain that i am running counter to miss meade's wishes. but i have so little opportunity to talk to her that i'm going to beg you to excuse us. i'm going to be selfish and entice miss meade away to the furthest corner." that other table was so far away that dave and belle could converse in low tones without the least danger of being overheard. there were, at that time, no other patrons in the place. "well, belle, what do you think of the lady, now that you've seen her?" "you've named her," replied belle quietly. "dan's new friend is beyond any doubt a lady." "then dan is safe, at last." "i'm not so sure of that," belle answered. "but, if she's really a lady, she must be safe company for dan." belle smiled queerly before she responded: "i'm afraid dan is in for a tremendous disappointment." "in the lady's character?" pressed darrin. "oh, indeed, no." "wait and see." "but i'd rather know now." "i'll tell you what i mean before you say good-bye this afternoon," belle promised. "by jove, but i am afraid that is going to be too late," murmured midshipman darrin. "unless i'm greatly misled as to the meaning of the light that has suddenly come into danny's eyes, he's proposing to her now!" "oh!" gasped belle, and the small spoonful of cream that was passing down her throat threatened to strangle her. "dave, how old do you think miss henshaw is?" asked miss meade, as soon as she could trust herself to speak. "twenty, i suppose." "you don't know much about women's ages, then, do you?" smiled belle. "i don't suppose i've any business to know." "miss henshaw is a good many years older than dan." "she doesn't look it," urged dave. "but she is. trust another woman to know!" "there, by jove!" whispered dave. "it has started. danny is running under the wire! i can tell by his face that he has just started to propose." "poor boy! he'll have an awful fall!" muttered belle. "why do you say that? but, say! you're right, belle. dan's face has turned positively ghastly. he looks worse than he could if he'd just failed to graduate." "naturally," murmured belle. "poor boy, i'm sorry for him." "but what's the matter?" "did you notice miss henshaw's jewelry?" "not particularly. i can see, from here, that she's wearing a small diamond in each ear." "dave, didn't you see the flat gold band that she wears on the third finger of her left hand?" belle demanded in a whisper. "no," confessed midshipman darrin innocently. "but what has that to do with---" "her wedding ring," belle broke in. "dan has gotten her title twisted. she's mrs. henshaw." "whew! but what, in that case, is she doing strolling around with a midshipman? that's no proper business for a married woman," protested dave darrin. "haven't you called on or escorted any married women since you've been at annapolis?" demanded belle bluntly. "yes; certainly," nodded dave. "but, in every instance they were wives of naval officers, and such women looked upon midshipmen as mere little boys." "isn't there an admiral henshaw in the navy?" inquired belle. "certainly." "that's mrs. henshaw," belle continued. "how do you know?" "i don't, but i'm certain, just the same. now, dan has met mrs. henshaw somewhere down at the naval academy. he heard her name and got it twisted into miss henshaw. it's his own blundering fault, no doubt. but admiral henshaw's young and pretty wife is not to be blamed for allowing a boyish midshipman to stroll with her as her escort." "whew!" whistled dave darrin under his breath. "so dan has been running it blind again? oh, belle, it's a shame! i'm heartily sorry that we've been here to witness the poor old chap's waterloo." "so am i," admitted belle. "but the harm that has been done is due to dan's own blindness. he should learn to read ordinary signs as he runs." no wonder dan dalzell's face had gone gray and ashy. for the time being he was feeling keenly. he had been so sure of "miss" henshaw's being a splendid woman---as, indeed, she was---that he decided on this, their third meeting, to try his luck with a sailor's impetuous wooing. in other words, he had plumply asked the admiral's wife to marry him; "why, you silly boy!" remonstrated mrs. henshaw, glancing up at him with a dismayed look. "i don't know your exact age, mr. dalzell, but i think it probable that i am at least ten years older than---" "i don't care," dan maintained bravely. "besides, what would the admiral say?" "is he your father or your brother?" dan inquired. "my husband!" then it was that midshipman dalzell's face had gone so suddenly gray. he fairly gasped and felt as though he were choking. "mr. dalzell," spoke mrs. henshaw, earnestly, "let us both forget that you ever spoke such unfortunate words. let us forget it all, and let it pass as though nothing had happened at all. i will confess that, two or three times, i thought you addressed me as 'miss.' i believed it to be only a slip of the tongue. i didn't dream that you didn't know. even if i were a single woman i wouldn't think of encouraging you for a moment, for i am much---much---too old for you. and now, let us immediately forget it all, mr. dalzell. shall we continue our stroll?" somehow the dazed midshipman managed to reply gracefully, and to follow his fair companion from wiegard's. "poor dan!" sighed dave. "i'll wager that's the worst crusher that dalzell ever had. but how do you read so much at a glance, belle?" "by keeping my eyes moderately well opened," that young woman answered simply. "i wonder where poor dan's adventures in search of a wife are going to end up?" mused darrin. "he'd better accept the course that you outlined for him a little while ago," half smiled belle. "dan's very best course will be to devote his thoughts wholly to his profession for a few years, and wait until the right woman comes along and chooses him for herself. you may tell dan, from me, some time, if it won't hurt his feelings, that i think his only safe course is to shut his eyes and let the woman do the choosing." "i must be a most remarkably fine fellow myself," remarked midshipman darrin modestly. "why do you think that?" "why, a girl with eyes as sharp as yours, belle, would never have accepted me if there had been a visible flaw on me anywhere." "there are no very pronounced flaws except those that i can remedy when i take charge of you, dave," replied belle with what might have been disconcerting candor. "then i'm lucky in at least one thing," laughed darrin good-humoredly. "when my turn comes i shall be made over by a most capable young woman. then i shall be all but flawless." "or else i shall take a bride's privilege," smiled belle demurely, "and go back to mother." "you'll have plenty of time for that," teased dave. "a naval officer's time is spent largely at sea, and he can't take his wife with him." "don't remind me of that too often," begged belle, a plaintive note in her voice. "your being at sea so much is the only flaw that i see in the future. and, as neither of us will be rich, i can't follow you around the world much of the time." when midshipman dave darrin reentered his quarters late that afternoon be found dan dalzell sitting back in a chair, his hands thrust deep into his pockets. his whole attitude was one of most unmilitary dejection. "dave, i've run the ship aground again," dan confessed ruefully. "i know you have, danny," darrin replied sympathetically. dan dalzell bounded to his feet. "what?" he gasped. "is the story going the rounds?" "it can't be." "then did you hear what we were saying this afternoon in wiegard's?" "no; we were too far away for that. but i judged that you had succeeded in making mrs. henshaw feel very uncomfortable for a few moments." "then you knew she was a married woman, dave?" "no; but belle did." "how, i---wonder?" "she saw the wedding ring on mrs. henshaw's left hand." dan dalzell looked the picture of amazement. then he whistled in consternation. "by the great dewey!" he groaned hoarsely. "i never thought of that!" "no; but you should have done so." "dave, i'm the biggest chump in the world. will you do me a supreme favor---kick me?" "that would be too rough, dan. but, if you can stand it, belle offered me some good advice for you in your affairs with women." "thank her for me, when you get a chance, but i don't need it," replied dan bitterly. "i'm through with trying to find a sweetheart, or any candidate to become mrs. dalzell." "but you'd better listen to the advice," dave insisted, and repeated what belle had said. "by jove, dave, but you're lucky to be engaged to a sensible girl like belle! i wish there was another like her in the world." "why?" "if there were another like belle i'd be sorely tempted to try my \ luck for the fourth time." "dan dalzell!" cried dave sternly. "you're not safe without a guardian! you'll do it again, between now and graduation." "you can watch me, if you want, then; but i'll fool you," smiled dan. "but say, dave!" "well?" "you don't suppose belle will say anything about this back in gridley, do you? by jove, if she does i'd feel----"you'll feel something else," warned dave snappily, "if you don't at once assure me that you know belle too well to think that she'd make light of your misfortunes." "but sometimes girls tell one another some things-----" "belle meade doesn't," interrupted dave so briskly that dalzell, after a glance, agreed: "you're right there, david, little giant. i've known belle ever since we were kids at the central grammar school. if belle ever got into any trouble through too free use of her tongue, then i never heard anything about it." "dan, do you want a fine suggestion about the employment of the rest of your liberty time while we're at annapolis?" "yes." "you remember barnes's general history, that we used to have in grammar school?" "yes." "devote your liberty time to reading the book through again." chapter xxi in the thick of disaster examination week---torture of the "wooden" and seventh heaven of the "savvy!" for the wooden man, he who knows little, this week of final examinations is a period of unalloyed torture. he must go before an array of professors who are there to expose his ignorance. no "wooden" man can expect to get by. the gates of hope are closed before his face. he marches to the ordeal, full of a dull misery. whether he is fourth classman or first, he knows that hope has fled; that he will go below the saving 2.5 mark and be dropped from the rolls. but your "savvy" midshipman---he who knows much, and who is sure and confident with his knowledge, finds this week of final examinations a period of bliss and pride. he is going to "pass"; he knows that, and nothing else matters. eight o'clock every morning, during this week, finds the midshipman in one recitation room or another, undergoing his final. as it is not the purpose of the examiners to wear any man out, the afternoon is given over to pleasures. there are no afternoon examinations, and no work of any sort that can be avoided. indeed, the "savvy" man has a week of most delightful afternoons, with teas, lawn parties, strolls both within and without the walls of the academy grounds, and many boating parties. it is in examination week that the young ladies flock to annapolis in greater numbers than ever. sometimes the "wooden" midshipman, knowing there is no further hope for him, rushes madly into the pleasures of this week, determined to carry back into civil life with him the memories of as many annapolis pleasures as possible. a strong smattering there is of midshipmen who, by no means "savvy," are yet not so "wooden" but that they hope, by hard study at the last to pull through on a saving margin in marks. these desperate ones do not take part in the afternoon pleasures, for these midshipmen, with furrowed brows, straining eyes, feverish skin and dogged determination, spend their afternoons and evenings in one final assault on their text-books in the hope of pulling through. dave darrin was not one of the honor men of his class, but he was "savvy" just the same. dan dalzell was a few notches lower in the class standing, but dan was as sure of graduation as was his chum. "one thing goes for me, this week," announced dan, just before the chums hustled out to dinner formation on monday. "what's that?" dave wanted to know. "no girls; no tender promenades!" grumbled midshipman dalzell. "poor old chap," muttered dave sympathetically. "oh, that's all right for you," grunted dan. "you have one of the 'only' girls, and so you're safe." "there are more 'only' girls than you've any idea of, dan dalzell," dave retorted with spirit. "the average american girl is a mighty fine, sweet, wholesome proposition." "i'll grant that," nodded dan, with a knowing air. "but i've made an important discovery concerning the really fine girls." "produce the discovery," begged darrin. "the really fine girl," announced dan, in a hollow voice, "prefers some other fellow to me." "well, i guess that'll be a fine idea for you to nurse---until after graduation," reflected darrin aloud. "i'm not going to seek to undeceive you, danny boy." so dave went off to meet belle and her mother, while dan dalzell hunted up another first classman who also believed that the girls didn't particularly esteem him. that other fellow was midshipman jetson. "mrs. davis is giving a lawn party this afternoon," announced dave, after he had lifted his cap in greeting of mrs. meade and her daughter. "i have an invitation from mrs. davis to escort you both over to her house. of course, if you find the tea and chatter a bit dull over there, we can go somewhere else presently." "i never find anything dull that is a part of the life here," returned belle, little enthusiast for the navy. "it will suit you, mother?" "anything at all will suit me," declared mrs. meade amiably. "david, just find me some place where i can drop into an armchair and have some other middle-aged woman like myself to talk with. then you young people need pay no further heed to me. examination week doesn't last forever." "it doesn't," laughed darrin, "and many of our fellows are very thankful for that." "how are you going to come through?" belle asked, with a quick little thrill of anxiety. "nothing to worry about on that score," dave assured her. "i'm sufficiently 'savvy' to pull sat. all right." "isn't that fine? and dan?" "oh, he'll finish sat., too, if he doesn't sight another craft flying pink hair ribbons." "any danger of that?" asked belle anxiously, for dan was a townsman of hers. "not judging by the company that dan is keeping to-day," smiled darrin. "who is his companion to-day, then?" "jetson, a woman hater." "really a woman hater?" asked belle. "oh, no; jet wouldn't poison all girls, or do anything like that. he isn't violent against girls. in fact, he's merely shy when they're around. but in the service any fellow who isn't always dancing attendance on the fair is doomed to be dubbed a woman hater. in other words, a woman hater is just a fellow who doesn't pester girls all the time." "are you a woman hater?" belle asked. "except when you are at annapolis," was dave's ready explanation. that afternoon's lawn party proved a much more enjoyable affair than the young people had expected. belle met there, for the first time, five or six girls with whom she was to be thrown often later on. when it was over, dave, having town liberty as well, proudly escorted his sweetheart and her mother back to the hotel. there were more days like it. dave, by thursday, realizing that he was coming through his morning trials with flying colors, had arranged permission to take out a party in one of the steamers. as the steamer could be used only for a party darrin invited farley and wolgast to bring their sweethearts along. mrs. meade at first demurred about going. "you and belle have had very little time together," declared that good lady, "and i'm not so old but that i remember my youth. with so large a party there's no need of a chaperon." "but we'd immensely like to have you come," urged dave; "that is, unless you'd be uncomfortable on the water." "oh, i'm never uncomfortable on the water," belle's mother replied. "then you'll come, won't you?" pleaded dave. belle's mother made one of the jolly party. "you'd better come, too, danny boy," urged dave at the last moment. "there'll be no unattached girl with the party, so you'll be vastly safer with us than you would away from my watchful eye." "huh! a fine lot your watchful eye has been on me this week," retorted midshipman dalzell. "jetson has been my grandmother this week." it was a jolly party that steamed down chesapeake bay in the launch that afternoon. there was an enlisted man of the engineer department at the engine, while a seaman acted as helmsman. "straight down the bay, helmsman," dave directed, as the launch headed out. "aye, aye, sir," replied the man, touching his cap. after that the young people---mrs. meade was included under that heading---gave themselves over to enjoyment. belle, with a quiet twinkle in her eyes that was born of the love of teasing, tried very hard to draw mr. jetson out, thereby causing that young man to flush many times. dan, from the outset, played devoted squire to mrs. meade. that was safe ground for him. "what's that party in the sailboat yonder?" inquired mrs. meade, when the steamer had been nearly an hour out. "are the young men midshipman or officers?" dave raised to his eyes the glasses with which the steamer was equipped. "they're midshipmen," he announced. "gray and lambert, of our class, and haynes and whipple of the second class." "they've young ladies with them." "certainly." "isn't it rather risky for midshipmen to have control of the boat, then, with no older man along?" asked mrs. meade. "it ought not to be," dave replied. "midshipmen of the upper classes are expected to be familiar with the handling of sailboats." "those fellows are getting careless, at any rate," muttered dan dalzell. "look at the way that sail is behaving. those fellows are paying too much attention to the girls and too little heed to the handling of the craft!" even as dalzell spoke the helm was jammed over and the boat started to come about. "confound lambert! he ought to ease off his sheet a good bit," snapped midshipman dalzell. "helmsman, point our boat so as to pass under the other craft's stern," spoke darrin so quietly that only dan and belle overheard him. "aye, aye, sir," murmured the helmsman, in a very low voice. dave signaled the engineman silently to increase the speed. "there the boat goes, the sail caught by a cross current of air!" called midshipman dalzell almost furiously. the girls aboard the sailboat now cried out in alarm as they felt the extreme list of the boat under them. all too late midshipman gray sprang for the sheet to ease it off. too late! in another moment the sailboat had capsized, the mast nearly snapping in the blow over. "make haste---do!" cried mrs. meade, rising in the steamer. but the steamer was already under increased headway, and the helmsman had to make but a slight turn to bear down directly to the scene of the disaster. three midshipmen could be seen floundering in the water, each steadily supporting the head of a girl. but the fourth, midshipman was floundering about wildly. then he disappeared beneath the water. "that young man has given up and gone down!" cried mrs. meade, whom dave had just persuaded to resume her seat. "no," dave assured her. "gray isn't drowning. but his girl companion is missing, and he has dived to find her." "then the girl is lost!" quivered mrs. meade. "no; i think not. gray is a fine swimmer, and will find miss butler before she has been under too long a time." then dave rose, for he was commander here. "danny boy, throw off your shoes and blouse and cap. the rest stand by the boat to give such aid as you can. ladies, you'll excuse us." thereupon dave darrin doffed his own cap, blouse and shoes. he and dalzell were the two best swimmers in the party, and it looked as though there would be work ahead for them to do. in another moment the steamer was on the scene, and speed was shut off. lambert, haynes and whipple, with their girl companions, were speedily reached and hauled aboard. then gray came up, but alone. "hasn't pauline come up?" he gasped in terror. "no," darrin replied shortly, but in a voice laden with sympathy. "then i've got to down again," replied gray despairingly. "i'd better stay down, too." he sank instantly, a row of bubbles coming up at the spot where he had vanished. "the poor, unfortunate fellow! he won't really attempt to drown himself, will he, if he doesn't find his young woman friend?" inquired mrs. meade. "no," dave answered without turning. "and we wouldn't allow him to do so, either." dave waited but a brief interval, this time. then, as midshipman gray did not reappear, he called: "danby!" "yes, sir," replied the enlisted man by the engine. "hustle forward and rig a rope loop to the anchor cable. how long is the anchor?" "about three feet, sir." "then rig the loop two feet above the mudhook." "yes, sir." "hustle!" "yes, sir." "is gray trying to stay under? trying to drown himself as a sign of his repentance?" whispered wolgast in dave's ear. but darrin shook his head. an instant later gray shot up to the surface---alone! "come aboard," ordered dave darrin, but he did not rely entirely on coaxing. snatching up a boat-hook he fastened it in gray's collar and drew that midshipman alongside, where many ready hands stretched out and hauled him aboard. two of the rescued young women were now sobbing almost hysterically. "if you won't let me stay in the water, won't some of the rest of you do something?" demanded midshipman gray hoarsely. "we're going to," nodded dave. "danby!" "yes, sir." "let go the anchor." "very good, sir." "follow me, dan," directed dave. the anchor went overboard while the two midshipmen were hustling forward. "i'm going down first, danny," explained dave. "follow whenever you may think you need to, but don't be in too big a hurry. use good judgment." "trust me," nodded dan hoarsely. with that dave seized the visible part of the anchor cable and went down, forcing himself toward the bottom by holding to the cable. it was a difficult undertaking, as, after he had gone part of the way, the buoyancy of the water fought against his efforts to go lower. but midshipman darrin still gripped hard at the cable, fighting foot by foot. his eyes open, at last he sighted the loop near the anchor. with a powerful effort he reached that loop, thrusting his left arm through it. the strain almost threatened to break that arm, but dave held grimly, desperately on. now he looked about him. fortunately there was no growth of seaweed at this point, and he could see clearly for a distance of quite a few yards around him. "queer what can have become of the body!" thought darrin. "but then, the boat has drifted along slightly, and miss butler may have sunk straight down. she may be lying or floating here just out of my range of vision. i wish i could let go and strike out, but i'd only shoot up to the surface after a little." many a shadow in the deep water caused darrin to start and peer the harder, only to find that he had been deceived. at that depth the weight of the water pressed dangerously upon his head and in his ears. dave felt his senses leaving him. "i'd sooner die than give up easily!" groaned the young midshipman, and he seemed about to have his wish. chapter xxii the search at the bottom of the bay by the strongest effort of the will that he could make, darrin steadied himself and forced his eyes once more open. drifting toward him, two feet above his head, was what looked like another shadow. it came closer. at the first thought darrin was inclined not to believe his senses. "i'll have to go up, after all, and let dan have his chance. i'm seeing things," dave decided. for, though the object floating toward him had some of the semblance of a skirt-clad figure, yet it looked all out of proportion---perhaps twice the size of pauline butler. that was a trick of the scanty light coming through the water at an angle---this coupled with darrin's own fatigue of the eyes. closer it came, and looked a bit smaller. "it is a girl---a woman---some human being!" throbbed dave internally. now, though his head seeming bursting, dave hung on more tightly than ever. the drift of the water was bringing the body slowly nearer to him. he must hold on until he could let himself strike upward, seizing that body in his progress. at last the moment arrived. dave felt a hard tug at the cable, but he did not at that instant realize that dan dalzell had just started down from the steamer. dave judged that the right instant had come. he let go of the loop, and was shot upward. but, as he moved, his spread arms caught hold of the floating figure. up to within a few feet of the surface darrin and his burden moved easily. then he found it necessary to kick out hard with his feet. thus he carried the burden clear, to the open air above, though at a distance of some forty feet from the steamer. "there they are!" farley's voice was heard calling, and there was a splash. "bully for you, old fellow! hold her up, and i'm with you!" hailed midshipman farley. in another moment dave darrin had been eased of his human burden, and farley was swimming to the steamer with the senseless form of pauline butler. darrin tried to swim, and was astounded at finding himself so weak in the water. he floated, propelling himself feebly with his hands, completely exhausted. just at that moment nearly every eye was fixed on farley and his motionless burden, and many pairs of hands stretched out to receive them. yet the gaze of one alert pair of eyes was fixed on darrin, out there beyond. "now, you'd better look after dave," broke in the quiet, clear voice of belle meade. "i think he needs help." wolgast went over the side in an instant, grappling with midshipman darrin and towing him to the side of the boat. "all in!" cried midshipman gray jubilantly. "except dan. where's he?" muttered dave weakly, as he sat on one of the side seats. "i'll signal him," muttered wolgast, and hastened forward to the anchor cable. this he seized and shook clumsily several times. the vibrated motion must have been imparted downward, for soon dan dalzell's head came above water. "everyone all right?" called dan, as soon as he had gulped in a mouthful of air. "o.k." nodded wolgast. "come alongside and let me haul you in." "you let me alone," muttered dalzell, coming alongside and grasping the rail. "do you think a short cold bath makes me too weak to attend to myself?" with that dan drew himself aboard. back in the cockpit mrs. meade and some of the girls were in frenzied way doing their best to revive pauline butler, who, at the present moment, showed no signs of life. "let me take charge of this reviving job. i've taken several tin medals in first aid to the injured," proclaimed farley modestly. in truth the midshipman had a decided knack for this sort of work. he assailed it with vigor, making a heap of life preservers, and over these placing miss butler, head downward. then farley took vigorous charge of the work of "rolling" out the water that miss butler must have taken into her system. "get anchor up and start the steamer back to annapolis at the best speed possible," ordered dave, long before he could talk in a natural voice. wolgast and dan aided danny in hoisting the anchor. steam was crowded on and the little craft cut a swift, straight path for annapolis. "pauline is opening her eyes!" cried farley, after twenty minutes more of vigorous work in trying to restore the girl. the girl's eyes merely fluttered, though, as a slight sigh escaped her. the eyelids fell again, and there was but a trace of motion at the pulse. "we mustn't lose the poor child, now that we've succeeded in proving a little life there," cried mrs. meade anxiously. "now, that's what i call a reflection on the skill of dr. farley," protested that midshipman in mock indignation. it was necessary, at any amount of trouble, to keep these women folks on fair spirits until annapolis was reached. then, perhaps, many of them would faint. all of the dry jackets of midshipmen aboard had been thrown protectingly around the girls who had been in the water. "torpedo boat ahead, sir," reported the helmsman. "give her the distress signal to lie to," directed dave. the engine's whistle sent out the shrieking appeal over the waters. the destroyer was seen to heave about and come slowly to meet the steamer. long before the two craft had come together dave darrin was standing, holding to one of the awning stanchions, for he was not yet any too strong. "destroyer, ahoy!" he shouted as loudly as he could between his hands. "have you a surgeon aboard?" "yes," came back the answer. "let us board you, sir!" "what's-----" but dave had turned to the helmsman with: "steam up alongside. lose no time." in a very short space of time the destroyer was reached and the steamer ran alongside. the unconscious form of miss butler was passed up over the side, followed by the other members of the sailboat party. mrs. meade followed, in case she could be of any assistance. "you may chaperon your party of young ladies in the steamer, belle," smiled mrs. meade from the deck of the destroyer. "i give you express authority over them." farley's and wolgast's sweethearts laughed merrily at this. all hands had again reached the point where laughter came again to their lips without strong effort. pauline butler was safe under the surgeon's hands, if anywhere. then the destroyers pulled out again, hitting a fast clip for annapolis. "that's the original express boat; this is only a cattle-carrier," muttered dave, gazing after the fast destroyer. "calling us cattle, are you?" demanded belle. "as official chaperon i must protest on behalf of the young ladies aboard." "a cattle boat often carries human passengers," dave returned. "i call this a cattle boat only because of our speed." "we don't need speed now," belle answered. "those who do are on board the destroyer." by the time that the steamer reached her berth at the academy wall, and the young people had hastened ashore, they learned that pauline butler had been removed to a hospital in annapolis; that she was very much alive, though still weak, and that in a day or two she would again be all right. with a boatswain's mate in charge, another steamer was despatched down the bay to recover and tow home the capsized sailboat. examination week went through to its finish. by saturday night the first classmen knew who had passed. but two of the members of the class had "bilged." dave, dan and all their close friends in the class had passed and had no ordeal left at annapolis save to go through the display work of graduation week. "you still have your two years at sea, though, before you're sure of your commission," sighed belle, as they rested between dances that saturday night. "any fellow who can live through four years at annapolis can get through the two years at sea and get his commission at last," laughed dave darrin happily. "have no fears, belle, about my being an ensign, if i have the good fortune to live two years more." chapter xxiii graduation day---at last graduation week! now came the time when the naval academy was given over to the annual display of what could be accomplished in the training of midshipmen. there were drills and parades galore, with sham battles in which the sharp crack of rifle fire was punctured by the louder, steadier booms of field artillery. there were gun-pointing contests aboard the monitors and other practice craft. there were exhibitions of expert boat-handling, and less picturesque performances at the machine shops and in the engine and dynamo rooms. there were other drills and exhibitions---enough of them to weary the reader, as they doubtless did weary the venerable members of a board of visitors appointed by the president. on wednesday night came the class german. now our young first classmen were in for another thrill---the pleasure of wearing officers' uniforms for the first time. on graduation the midshipman is an officer of the navy, though a very humble one. the graduated midshipman's uniform is a more imposing affair than the uniform of a midshipman who is still merely a member of the brigade at the naval academy. on this wednesday evening the new uniforms were of white, the summer and tropical uniform of the navy. these were donned by first classmen only in honor of the class german, which the members of the three lower classes do not attend. all the young women attending were also attired wholly in white, save for simple jewelry or coquettish ribbons. dave darrin, of course, escorted belle meade with all the pride in the world. most of the other midshipmen "dragged" young women on this great evening. dan dalzell did not. he attended merely for the purpose of looking on, save when he danced with belle meade. on the following evening, after another tiresome day spent in boring the board of visitors, came the evening promenade, a solemnly joyous and very dressy affair. then came that memorable graduation morning, when so many dozens of young midshipmen, since famous in the navy, received their diplomas. early the young men turned out. "it seems queer to be turning out without arms, doesn't it?" grumbled dan dalzell. but it is the rule for the graduating class to turn out without arms on this one very grand morning. the band formed on the right of line. next to them marched to place the graduating class, minus arms. then the balance of the brigade under arms. when the word was given a drum or two sounded the step, and off the brigade marched, slowly and solemnly. a cornet signal, followed by a drum roll, and then the naval academy band crashed into the joyous march, consecrated to this occasion, "ain't i glad i'm out of the wilderness!" "amen! indeed i'm glad," dave darrin murmured devoutly under his breath. "there has been many a time in the last four years when i didn't expect to graduate. but now it's over. nothing can stop dan or myself!" crowds surrounded the entrance to the handsome, classic chapel, though the more favored crowds had already passed inside and filled the seats that are set apart for spectators. inside filed the midshipmen, going to their seats in front. the chaplain, in the hush that followed the seating, rose, came forward and in a voice husky with emotion urged: "friends, let us pray for the honor, success, glory and steadfast manhood through life of the young men who are about to go forth with their diplomas." every head was bowed while the chaplain's petition ascended. when the prayer was over the superintendent, in full dress uniform, stepped to the front of the rostrum and made a brief address. sailors are seldom long-winded talkers. the superintendent's address, on this very formal occasion, lasted barely four minutes. but what he said was full of earnest manhood and honest patriotism. then the superintendent dropped to his chair. there were not so very many dry eyes when the choir beautifully intoned: "god be with you till we meet again!" but now another figure appeared on the rostrum. though few of the young men had ever seen this new-comer, they knew him by instinct. at a signal from an officer standing at the side of the chapel, the members of the brigade broke forth into thunderous hurrahs. for this man, now about to address them, was their direct chief. "gentlemen and friends," announced the superintendent, "i take the greatest pleasure that may come to any of us in introducing our chief---the secretary of the navy." and now other officers appeared on the rostrum, bearing diplomas and arranging them in order. the name of the man to graduate first in his class was called. he went forward and received his diploma from the secretary, who said: "mr. ennerly, it is, indeed, a high honor to take first place in such a class as yours!" ennerly, flushed and proud, returned to his seat amid applause from his comrades. and so there was a pleasant word for each midshipman as he went forward. when the secretary picked up the seventeenth diploma he called: "david darrin!" who was the most popular man in the brigade of midshipmen? the midshipmen themselves now endeavored to answer the question by the tremendous explosions of applause with which they embarrassed dave as he went forward. "mr. darrin," smiled the secretary, "there are no words of mine that can surpass the testimonial which you have just received from your comrades. but i will add that we expect tremendous things from you, sir, within the next few years. you have many fine deeds and achievements to your credit here, sir. within the week you led in a truly gallant rescue human life down the bay. mr. darrin, in handing you your well-earned diploma, i take upon myself the liberty of congratulating your parents on their son!" as dave returned to his seat with his precious sheepskin the elder darrin, who was in the audience, took advantage of the renewed noises of applause to clear his throat huskily several times. dave's mother honestly used her handkerchief to dry the tears of pride that were in her eyes. another especial burst of applause started when daniel dalzell, twenty-first in his class, was called upon to go forward. "i didn't believe danny grin would ever get through," one first classman confided behind his hand to another. "i expected that the upper classmen would kill danny grin before he ever got over being a fourth classman." but here was dan coming back amid more applause, his graduation number high enough to make it practically certain that he would be a rear admiral one of these days when he had passed the middle stage of life in the service. one by one the other diplomas were given out, each accompanied by some kindly message from the secretary of the navy, which, if remembered and observed, would be of great value to the graduate at some time in the future. the graduating exercises did not last long. to devote too much time to them would be to increase the tension. later in the day the graduated midshipmen again appeared. they were wearing their new coats now, several inches longer in the tail, and denoting them as real officers in the navy. a non-graduate midshipman must salute one of these graduates whenever they meet. in their room, to be occupied but one night more, dave and dan finished dressing in their new uniforms at the same moment. "shake, danny boy!" cried dave darrin, holding out his hand. "how does it seem, at last, to know that you're really an officer in the navy?" "great!" gulped dalzell. "and i don't mind admitting that, during the last four years, i've had my doubts many a time that this great day would ever come for we. but get your cap's and let's hustle outside." "why this unseemly rush, danny?" "i want to round up a lot of under classmen and make them tire their arms out saluting me." "your own arm will ache, too, then, danny. you are obliged, as of course you know, to return every salute." "hang it, yes! there's a pebble in every pickle dish, isn't there?" "you're going to the graduation ball tonight, of course?" "oh, surely," nodded dalzell. "after working as i've worked for four years for the privilege, i'd be a fool to miss it. but i'll sneak away early, after i've done a friend's duty by you and belle. no girls for me until i'm a captain in the navy!" the ball room was a scene of glory that night. bright eyes shone unwontedly, and many a heart fluttered. for belle meade was not the only girl there who was betrothed to a midshipman. any graduate who chose might marry as soon as he pleased, but nearly all the men of the class preferred to wait until they had put in their two years at sea and had won their commissions as ensigns. "this must be a night of unalloyed pleasure to you," murmured belle, as she and her young officer sweetheart sat out one dance. "you can look back over a grand four years of life here." "i don't know that i'd have the nerve to go through it all again," darrin answered her honestly. "you don't have to," belle laughed happily. "you put in your later boyhood here, and now your whole life of manhood is open before you." "i'll make the best use of that manhood that is possible for me," dave replied solemnly. "you must have formed some wonderful friendships here." "i have." "and, i suppose," hesitated belle, "a few unavoidable enmities." "i don't know about that," dave replied promptly and with energy. "i can't think of a fellow here that i wouldn't be ready and glad to shake hands with. i hope---i trust---that all of the fellows in the brigade feel the same way about me." chapter xxiv conclusion there was one more formation yet---one more meal to be eaten under good old bancroft hall. but right after breakfast the graduates, each one now in brand-new cit. attire, began to depart in droves. some went to the earliest train; others stopped at the hotels and boarding houses in town to pick up relatives and friends with whom the gladsome home journey was to be made. "i don't like you as well in cits.," declared belle, surveying dave critically in the hotel parlor. "in the years to come," smiled dave, "you'll see quite enough of me in uniform." "i don't know about that," belle declared, her honest soul shining in her eyes. "do you feel that you'll ever see enough of me?" "i know that i won't," dave rejoined. "you have one great relief in prospect," smiled belle. "whenever you do grow tired of me you can seek orders to some ship on the other side of the world." "the fact that i can't be at home regularly," answered midshipman darrin, "is going to be the one cloud on our happiness. never fear my seeking orders that take me from home---unless in war time. then, of course, every naval officer must burn the wires with messages begging for a fighting appointment." "i'm not afraid of your fighting record, if the need ever comes," replied belle proudly. "and, dave, though my heart breaks, i'll never show you a tear in my eyes if you're starting on a fighting cruise." mrs. meade and dave's parents now entered the room, and soon after danny grin, who had gone in search of his own father and mother, returned with them. "what are we going to do now?" asked mr. darrin. "i understand that we have hours to wait for the next train." "we can't do much, sir," replied dave. "within another hour this will be the deadest town in the united states." "i should think you young men would want to spend most of the intervening time down at the naval academy, looking over the familiar spots once more," suggested mrs. dalzell. "then i'm afraid, mother, that you don't realize much of the way that a midshipman feels. the naval academy is our alma mater, and a beloved spot. yet, after what i've been through there during the last few years i don't want to see the naval academy again. at least, not until i've won a solid step or two in the way of promotion." "that's the feeling of all the graduates, i reckon," nodded dave darrin. "for one, i know i don't want to go back there to-day." "some day you will go back there, though," observed danny grin. "why are you so sure?" dave asked. "well, you were always such a stickler for observing the rules that the navy department will have to send you there for some post or other. probably you'll go back as a discipline officer." "i would have one advantage over you, then, wouldn't i?" laughed darrin. "if i had to rebuke a midshipman i could do it with a more serious face than you could." "i can't help my face," sighed danny grin. "you see, dave," mr. dalzell observed, with a smile, "dan inherited his face." "from his father's side of the family," promptly interposed mrs. dalzell. here mr. farley, also in cits., entered the parlor in his dignified fashion. "darry, and you, too, danny grin, some of the fellows are waiting outside to see you. will you step out a moment?" "where are the fellows?" asked dave unsuspectingly. "you'll find them on the steps outside the entrance." dave started for the door. "you're wanted, too, danny grin, as i told you," farley reminded him. "i'll be the navy goat, then. what's the answer?" inquired midshipman dalzell. "run along, like a good little boy, and your curiosity will soon be gratified." danny grin looked as though he expected some joke, but he went none the less. dave, first to reach the entrance, stepped through into the open. as he did so he saw at least seventy-five of his recent classmates grouped outside. the instant they perceived their popular comrade the crowd of graduates bellowed forth: "n n n n, a a a a, v v v v, y y y y, navy! darrin! darrin! darrin!" in another moment danny grin showed himself. back in his face was hurled the volley: "n n n n, a a a a, v v v v, y y y y, navy! grin! grin! grin!" "eh?" muttered danny, when the last line reached him. they were unexpected. then, as be faced the laughing eyes down in the street, dalzell justified his nickname by one of those broad smiles that had made him famous at the naval academy. dave darrin waved his hand in thanks for the "four-n" yell, the surest sign of popularity, and vanished inside. when he returned to the parlor be found that farley had conducted his parents and friends to one of the parlor windows, from which, behind drawn blinds, they had watched the scene and heard the uproar without making themselves visible. at noon the hotel dining room was overrun with midshipmen and their friends, all awaiting the afternoon train. but at last the time came to leave annapolis behind in earnest. extra cars had been put on to handle the throng, for the "train," for the first few miles of the way, usually consists of but one combination trolley car. "you're leaving the good old place behind," murmured belle, as the car started. "never a graduate yet but was glad to leave annapolis behind," replied dave. "it seems to me that you ought not to speak of the naval academy in that tone." "you'd understand, belle, if you had been through every bit of the four-year grind, always with the uncertainty ahead of you of being able to get through and grad." "perhaps the strict discipline irked you, too," miss meade hinted. "the strict discipline will be part of the whole professional life ahead of me," darrin responded. "as to discipline, it's even harder on some ships, where the old man is a stickler for having things done just so." "the old man?" questioned belle. "the 'old man' is the captain of a warship." "it doesn't sound respectful." "yet it has always been the name given to the ship's captain, and i don't suppose it will be changed in another hundred years. how does it feel, danny boy, going away for good?" "am i really going away for good?" grinned dalzell. "i thought it was only a dream." "well, here's odenton. you'll be in baltimore after another little while, and then it will all seem more real." "nothing but gridley will look real to me on this trip," muttered dan. "really, i'm growing sick for a good look at the old home town." "i wish you could put in the whole summer at home, dan," sighed his mother. "but, of course, i know that you can't." "no, mother; i'll have time to walk up and down the home streets two or three times, and then orders will come from the navy department to report aboard the ship to which i'm to be assigned. mother, if you want to keep a boy at home you shouldn't allow him to go to a place where he's taught that nothing on earth matters but the navy!" later in the afternoon the train pulled in at baltimore. it was nearing dusk when the train pulled out of philadelphia on its way further north. yet the passage of time and the speeding of country past the ear windows was barely noticed by the gridley delegation. there was too much to talk about---too many plans to form for the next two or three weeks of blissful leave before duty must commence again. here we will take leave of our young midshipmen for the present, though we shall encounter them again as they toil on upward through their careers. we have watched dave and dan from their early teens. we met them first in the pages of the _"grammar school boys' series."_ we know what we know of them back in the days when they attended the central grammar school and studied under that veteran of teachers, "old dut," as he was affectionately known. we saw them with the same chums, of dick & co., when that famous sextette of schoolboys entered high school. we are wholly familiar with their spirited course in the high school. we know how all six of the youngsters of dick & co. made the name of gridley famous for clean and manly sports in general. our readers will yet hear from dave and dan occasionally. they appear in the pages of the _"young engineers' series,"_ and also in the volumes of the _"boys of the army series."_ in this latter series our young friends will learn just how the romance of dave darrin and belle meade developed; and they will also come across the similar affair of dick prescott and laura bentley. dave and dan had, as they had expected, but a brief stay in the home town. bright and early one morning a postman handed to each a long, official envelope from the navy department. in each instance the envelope contained their orders to report aboard one of the navy's biggest battleships. our two midshipmen were fortunate in one respect. both were ordered to the same craft, their to finish their early naval educations in two years of practical work as officers at sea ere they could reach the grade of ensign and step into the ward-room. proofreading team dave darrin's third year at annapolis or leaders of the second class midshipmen by h. irving hancock 1911 illustrated [illustration: "there she goes!"] contents chapter i. why the midshipmen balked. ii. proving their training. iii. the trouble-making fop. iv. in the view of the navy department. v. navy football in the air. vi. the hate of a rival. vii. "did jetson do it?". viii. dan tries hard to keep cool. ix. a narrow squeak with the o. c. x. the gridiron start. xi. the band couldn't make itself heard. xii. joyce is bitten with the trouble bug. xiii. hepson is "some wild". xiv. two sides of a story. xv. the navy goat weeps. xvi. the man with a scowl on tap. xvii. an affair of sulks. xviii. the class meeting sits as jury. xix. dave stands on principle. xx. "don't be a fool, darry!" xxi. midshipman jetson has the floor. xxii. the birth of a gentleman. xxiii. "ragged" and no mistake. xxiv. conclusion. dave darrin's third year at annapolis chapter i why the midshipmen balked "so tom reade and harry hazelton have been here?" demanded midshipman dave darrin. that handsome young member of the brigade of midshipmen at the united states naval academy at annapolis was now in mufti, or cits,--meaning, in other words, that he was out of his naval uniform and attired in the conventional clothing of a young american when calling on his sweetheart. it will make the situation even clearer to the reader to explain that dave was back in the home town, on his september leave, after just having completed his second summer practice cruise with the three upper classes from annapolis. dave was now a fine looking and "husky" second classman. he was just a shade more than half way through his course of instruction at annapolis. being back in the home town, where would midshipman darrin be more naturally found than in the parlor at the home of his sweetheart, miss belle meade? the first greetings had been exchanged fifteen minutes before. since that time the young people, being sweethearts as they were, had naturally talked about themselves. and dave, who, in the naval service, was fast learning to become a good listener, had been content to have belle do most of the talking, while he sat back watching the motions of her pretty lips and catching glimpses of two rows of pearly teeth. but now belle had just mentioned two of dave's former high school chums. "so tom and harry were really here?" he repeated. "yes; they came up from arizona on leave." "i wonder why they couldn't have remained here longer?" mused dave. "they both told me that they were very young in their profession as civil engineers, and that they had to spend nearly all of their time 'on the job,' as tom phrased it," replied belle. "how did they look?" asked dave. "a shade older, of course, than when they were in the high school." "are they much taller?" asked darrin. "somewhat; but they have not shot up in height, the way you and dan, and dick prescott and greg holmes have done," belle continued. "brown as berries, i suppose, after working down in the alkali deserts?" asked dave, who felt that he could not hear enough of those dear old chums. "meaning tom and harry?" smiled belle. "or dick and greg?" "tom and harry, that time, of course," laughed dave. "but i'm waiting to hear a whole lot about dick and greg as well." "no; i wouldn't call tom and harry exactly as brown as berries," went on belle, laughing, "for i am not acquainted with many kinds of brown berries." "coffee berries?" hinted darrin. "i would call tom and harry fully as bronzed as indians," belle ventured. "have you ever seen any indians?" asked midshipman darrin, looking at his sweetheart rather quizzically. "oh, haven't i?" laughed belle meade, her eyes sparkling. "we had indians here the early part of this summer. there was a medicine show here, with indians and cowboys, and that sort of thing. one day the indians and cowboys got intoxicated and they went through main street like a tornado. they were yelling and shooting, and had people all along the street running for cover. even the chief of police, though he wasn't a coward, ran into safety. "in the midst of it all dick prescott, greg holmes, tom reade and harry hazelton came out of an ice cream parlor. tom and harry got a glimpse of the very wild west looking company of yellers and shooters. tom and harry have seen enough indians and cowboys to know the real thing--and that these were only poor imitations. all of a sudden tom and harry and dick and greg charged into that howling, shooting crowd and knocked them right and left. your four old-time chums simply disarmed the 'bad' ones and turned the weapons over to the chief of police." belle went on, describing the famous incident, while dave leaned back, laughing heartily. "how i wish i had been on hand! i'd like to have helped, too," he added. "those four youngsters didn't need any help," laughed belle. "which was the most surprised crowd--the 'bad' western outfit or the police department?" chuckled dave. readers of our "west point series" will find the "wild west" scene fully narrated in "dick prescott's third year at west point." "isn't it outrageous," demanded dave, "that the west point and the annapolis leave of absence should be so arranged that midshipmen and cadets who are old, old friends never get a chance to meet each other on furlough!" "i don't suppose," replied belle, "that it often happens that one little city often has the honor of furnishing, at the same time, two midshipmen for annapolis and two cadets for west point." "very likely not," nodded dave. "but it seems too bad, just the same. what wouldn't i give to see tom or harry? or greg or dick? and now that i'm here dick prescott and greg holmes are but just barely gone." "yes; they have been but four days gone," assented belle. "it does seem too bad that you and your west point chums couldn't have been one day together." "i haven't seen a blessed one of the good old four since i left for annapolis, more than two years ago," muttered dave complainingly. "what wouldn't i give--just to see what they look like in these days?" "well, what would you give?" demanded belle, rising and hesitating. "they've given you their photos, then!" asked dave darrin guessing. "please be quick--let me see the photos." belle glided from the room, to return with a large card. "they were taken altogether," she explained, handing the card over to darrin. "there they are--all in one group." dave seized the card, studying eagerly the print mounted thereon. "whew! what a change two years make in a high school boy, doesn't it?" demanded darrin. "of course," answered belle meade. "do you imagine that you and dan dalzell haven't changed any, either?" readers of our "high school series" will well remember dick prescott, greg holmes, tom reade, harry hazelton, dave darrin and dan dalzell, a famous sextette of young high school athletes, who, in their high school days, were known as dick & co. readers of the four volumes of that series will recall that dick prescott received the congressman's nomination to west point, and that greg holmes was appointed a cadet at the same big government army school by one of the state's senators. dave darrin and dan dalzell, a little later, secured nominations to annapolis from the same gentlemen; and tom reade and harry hazelton, who had thrown their lot with civil engineering, had gone west to engage with an engineering firm of railroad builders. from that passing of the old high school days the experiences and adventures of dick prescott and greg holmes are told in the volumes of "the west point series." those of tom reade and harry hazelton are set forth fully in "the young engineers' series." as for dave darrin and dan, their life, since leaving the high school, and casting their lot with the navy, has been fully told in the two preceding volumes of the present series, "dave darrin's first year at aknapolis" and "dave darrin's second year at annapolis." "well, i'll meet dick and greg this coming thanksgiving, at any rate," predicted midshipman darrin. "you know what happens the saturday after thanksgiving on franklin field, don't you, belle?" "you young men of annapolis and west point play football, don't you!" asked belle. "do we?" demanded dave, his eyes aglow with enthusiasm. "don't we, though. and, mark me, belle, the navy is going to carry away the army's scalp this year." "are you going to join the team?" asked belle. "i can't say, until i get back. but i've been training. i hope to be called to the team. so does dan." "i hope you and dan both make the eleven," cried belle, "so that you can get away to see the game." "why, we can see the game better," retorted dave, "if we don't make the team." "why, are midshipmen who don't belong to the eleven allowed to see the game?" asked belle in some surprise. "are we?" demanded dave. "belle, don't you know what the army-navy game on the saturday after thanksgiving day is like? the entire brigade of midshipmen and the whole corps of cadets travel over to philadelphia. there, on franklin field, before an average of thirty thousand yelling spectators, the great annual game of the two great national academies is fought out." "you haven't gone to see the annual game at philadelphia before this, have you?" asked miss meade. "no." "why not?" "because, belle, both years, at thanksgiving time, danny boy and i have found ourselves so far behind in our studies that we just took the time to stay behind and bone, bone, bone over our books." "and you think this year will be different?" "oh, yes; when a man is half way through annapolis the studies become easier to him. you see, in two years of the awful grind a fellow, if he lasts that long, has learned how to study in the right way. i'm going to get two tickets, belle, so that you and your mother can go to see the game. and of course good old dick can do as much for laura bentley and her mother. you'll come, of course, to root your hardest for the navy, just as laura will go and root for the army. by the way, have you heard whether dick and greg expect to play on the army eleven?" "when they were here this summer they said they hoped to play football with the army. that's all i know, dave, about the plans of dick and greg." "i hope they do play," cried midshipman darrin cheerily. "even with two such old gridiron war horses as dick and greg against us, i believe that the navy team, this year, has some fellows who can take the army scalp with neatness and despatch." dave rambled on, for some time now, with of the athletic doings at the naval academy. it was not that he was so much interested in the subject--at that particular moment--but it was certainly fine to have belle meade for an interested listener. "well, you're half way through your course," put in belle at last. "you passed your last annual examinations in june." "yes." "how did you stand in your exams?" "i came through with honors," dave declared unblushingly. "honors?" repeated belle delightedly. "oh, dave, i didn't know you were one of the honor men of your class." "yes," laughed midshipman dave, though there was a decidedly serious look in his fine face. "belle, i consider that any fellow who gets by the examiners has passed with honors. so we're all honor men that are now left in the class. several of the poor fellows had to write home last june asking their parents for the price of a ticket homeward." "but, now that you've got half way through, you're pretty sure to go the rest of the way safely," belle insisted. "that's almost too much of a brag to make, belle. the truth is, no fellow is safe until he has been commissioned as an ensign, and that's at least two years after he has graduated from the naval academy. why even after examination, you know, a fellow has to go to sea for two years, as a midshipman, and then take another and final examination at sea. a whole lot of fellows who managed to get through the academy find themselves going to pieces on that examination at sea." "and then--" went on belle. "why, if a fellow can't pass his exams, he's dropped from the service." "after he has already graduated from academy? that isn't fair," cried belle meade. "no, it isn't quite fair," assented midshipman dave, with a shrug of his shoulders. "yet what is one going to do about it? it's all in the game--to take or leave." "who ever made the naval academy and the service so hard as that?" the girl wanted to know. "congress, i guess," laughed dave, "but acting, very likely, on the advice of a lot of old admirals who are through themselves, and who expect the youngsters to know as much as the very admirals. why, belle, when i was a few years younger, and first began to dream about going to the naval academy i had a mental picture of a very jolly life, in which we sailed the seas and absorbed our knowledge. i had an idea that the midshipman's life was made up mainly of jolly larks ashore and afloat, with plenty of athletics to keep us from ever feeling dull. of course, i knew we had to do some studying, but i didn't imagine the studies would be hard for a chap who had already gone through a good high school." "your high school studies did help, didn't they?" demanded belle. "they helped somewhat in the exams, to enter annapolis, but they've never helped me with any of the studies that i've had to tackle as a midshipman." "oh, well, you'll get through," the girl predicted with cheery confidence. "i shall, if it's really in me," dave promised. "but i'm not going to do any bragging, belle, until i'm safely through and have been out of the woods for a long time." "and you won't do any bragging then, either. it isn't in your line. what's dan dalzell going to do while he's home on leave?" "sleep, he says." "the lazy boy!" "no, he's a tired boy, belle. i think the past year has been even just a little harder on him than it has on me. however, of course dan won't really sleep. he'll be out by this afternoon. just now i imagine that he's talking like wildfire with his mother." it was a wrong guess, however. just then the telephone sounded in the next room, and belle went to answer it. "it's your shipmate, dan," she called laughingly. "he wants to talk with you, dave." "i wonder how the fellow ever guessed that i was here," smiled darrin, as he hastily joined belle at the 'phone. "hello," hailed dalzell at the other end of the wire. "going to do anything in particular this afternoon, david, little giant?" "yes; i hope to make myself more or less agreeable to miss meade." "a small crowd won't be any bar to that, eh?" dan wanted to know. "not if the crowd and the occasion are agreeable to miss meade." "well, you know foss and canty?" "two of our old high school boys? yes." "foss has a new gasoline launch; he says it's a beauty, and he wants us to invite miss meade and miss bentley, to join them and a couple of the former high school girls for a couple of hours' cruise on the river. what say you?" "what does belle say, you mean. wait a moment, and i'll ask her." darrin explained the invitation. "why, if it will be pleasant for you, dave, i shall be delighted to go," belle answered. "it's all right," dave called back over the 'phone. "what's the hour for the start!" "two o'clock," dan answered. "all right, then; will you ask laura bentley, or shall we, from here?" "i've already asked laura," dalzell replied. "she accepted on condition that belie did. now i'll ring up laura and tell her that it's all arranged." "it'll be a pleasant trip for you, won't it!" inquired belle, half-anxiously. "or do you get too much of boats in your working year?" "i shall be glad to be anywhere that you are," dave replied gallantly. "the form of entertainment doesn't matter to me as long as it appeals to you." at two o'clock the young people met at the float of the boat club house on the river's bank. on the way across town dave had been noting the direction and force of the wind. he didn't altogether like it, but didn't say anything. at the float he found tom foss, ab canty, ella wright and susie danes awaiting the midshipmen and their fair companions. "all ready and waiting for you amateur sailors," called foss laughingly. "and here's the boat. say, isn't she really a beauty?" "good lines," nodded dave darrin. "and she looks speedy. but you've changed your mind about going out this afternoon, haven't you, foss?" "why?" demanded the young fellow, in very evident astonishment. "look at the water," responded dave, pointing to the white-caps, which were running rather high for an inland stream. "pooh! you're not afraid of a little foam on top of the water, are you?" demanded foss. "the waves are running pretty high for the inches of freeboard that your boat has," remarked darrin quietly. "and look at the sky to windward. there's a bit more blow coming out of those clouds yet." "say, what do they teach you at annapolis?" grinned foss. "to go sailing only in calm weather?" "since you ask," dave replied as quietly as before, though a slight flush mounted to his face, "one of the things they teach us at the naval academy is consideration for women. now, if just we four fellows were going out, i wouldn't say a word." "don't think we girls are afraid," broke in belle with spirit. "i'm well aware that you're not afraid," darrin replied turning and looking at her. "but i'm afraid, belle of what i might think of myself afterwards, if i were a party to taking you out in this boat when the river is running so much to whitecaps." "do you think the boat is one of the kind that will turn turtle and sink the crowd?" demanded tom foss, flushing in turn. "i tell you, darrin, the craft is as tight and sound, and as manageable, as any boat of her length to be found anywhere on fresh water." "she is a fine boat," dave assented; "but i don't feel like being responsible for what may happen to the young lady who is more especially under my escort and care. there's too big a chance of danger this afternoon, foss." "pooh, mr. sailor!" laughed ella wright. "i'll show you that some folks who don't know what annapolis looks like are not frightened by toy waves." miss ella thereupon stepped into the launch and seated herself. miss susie followed. "aren't you people going?" asked ab canty. "i'm not going if dave considers it so unwise that he'd be worried about our safety," belle answered promptly. "going, laura?" called foss. "no, though i thank you," miss bentley replied. "if mr. darrin objects on the score of safety i'm not going to torment him by disregarding his opinion." "i'm of about the same opinion as darrin, if anyone cares to know," broke in dan dalzell. tom foss looked at the other half of his party quizzically, then called to canty. "cast off, ab. ha, ha! i never thought to see united states sailors and embryo naval officers so much afraid of a little tossing water." chug-chug! ella and susie were laughing a bit teasingly as the motor started and the little craft darted away from the float and took to the waves beyond. dave did not answer. instead, he gripped dan's nearer wrist, muttering: "don't you say it, danny!" "say what?" "whatever hot words were coming to your lips. as long as we feel that we're right in not risking belle and laura, never mind what the others think and say." "this breeze is so fine," suggested laura, "what do you say if we seat ourselves here and watch the river for a while?" accordingly the four young people seated themselves. the launch was the only craft in sight that was away from her moorings. a sailboat and three canoes lay tied to the lee side of the float, that is the off-side from the weather. even they rocked a good deal. "what kind of weather is coming?" asked belle. "it's going to be pretty squally, in all probability," spoke up midshipman dan. "do you see the big puffs of wind in the clouds yonder?" "it must take a sailor to see that sort of thing," remarked belle. "what i see in the cloud looks like big, fluffy masses of cotton, streaked with something darker." "that's the wind," nodded dave darrin. "now, girls, i don't want you to think me a muff. that wind may swerve, and not come this way, although in all probability the wind will get this way and the water will be rougher. if it does get rougher on the river, and if we had taken you two out, and the boat had capsized, then by some chance we might not have been able to get you to shore. what would your folks then say to us if we had had the miserable luck to survive you?" "you did just right," laura declared promptly. "to tell the truth, i didn't want to disappoint either of you boys this afternoon, but i didn't believe the wind was quiet enough for boating on the river. but mother reminded me that i was going with two young men who had been trained as sailors, and that i ought to be as safe as i would in the home parlor." "well, aren't you?" smiled belle meade. "did you really want to go out on the river, belle?" dave asked. "not when you don't believe it to be safe." "i suppose foss will be joking around town about our being afraid of the water," muttered; dan. "what do you care!" asked dave quietly. "you're responsible to the united states government--not to a few private citizens on the streets of gridley." "you'll take us out on the water before your leave is over, won't you?" urged belle. "a dozen of times, if you care to go," dave; replied quickly. "in a sailboat?" quizzed belle. "it must; be great fun to sail, and i've never been in a sailboat." "i'd rather take you out in a good, solid rowboat," dave answered slowly. "why, haven't you had much sailboat practice at annapolis yet?" "we've had some," darrin nodded. "but i'm afraid i don't believe much in small sailboats for girls' parties." "oh, very well." "now, belle, you will begin to believe that i'm a muff at heart," darrin remonstrated. "i won't anyway, dave," laura broke in. "i can see that you're merely determined that we shall take no risks when we go out with you. i shall feel very safe in whatever you propose for water sports." "it's a good deal better to be safe, than sorry, when you have girls under your care," dan dalzell added. the motor boat, a fast though a low-hulled craft, had been long out of sight up the river. presently there came a new turn to the wind. dan wet a forefinger and held it up to the breeze. "i hope foss has sense enough to run in somewhere and tie up until the coming squall blows over," dalzell remarked. "are we going to have a storm?" belle asked quickly. "not rain, if that's what you mean," darrin replied. "but i believe the river is going to be pretty rough before long." ere two minutes more had passed dave suddenly rose and straightened himself. "look downstream, girls," he cried. "do you see the big rollers coming?" in truth the surface of the river was now beginning to behave in an unusual way. where, heretofore, the water had been choppy and whitecapped, the water now broke in longer, foam-crested waves. owing to the course of the wind the waves were rolling upstream. within five minutes from the time when dave first called attention to the rougher water the waves had considerably increased in size. "oh, i'm glad i'm not out on the water," shivered laura. "so am i," belle admitted candidly. "do you believe tom foss can bring his boat down against such waves!" laura inquired. "oh, no doubt, he has had sense enough to run in somewhere and tie up," predicted midshipman dan charitably. "i hope so," murmured belle. "but tom is an awfully stubborn fellow." toot! too-oo-oot! sounded a whistle up the river. "by ginger, there comes foss's boat now!" muttered dan, standing up and staring. "why doesn't the idiot make land?" "he's got his craft away on the other side of the river, looking for quieter water," muttered dave uneasily. "well, isn't that right?" asked belle. "right, yes, unless he makes the mistake of trying to cross the stream," nodded darrin. "then he'll run his craft into the trough of the sea, and--" "well, what?" demanded belle as dave paused. "then, when he's in the trough, a big wave may roll his small boat over," dan finished for his comrade. "do you really think there's danger of that?" demanded laura, looking anxious. "i don't know," murmured dave. "but i wish i had some way of signaling foss, some way so that he could understand the signals." "what good would it do?" demanded midshipman dalzell, grimly. "tom would only laugh and say it was more old maidishness on the part of navy men." "there--confound the idiot!" suddenly blazed dave darrin. "he is crossing. look at that boat wallow in the trough. jupiter! there she goes over--nearly!" all four young people on the float held their breath for an instant. the motor launch, after almost having turned turtle, righted itself. "i wish i were at the wheel of the boat for about three minutes," muttered darrin hoarsely. at that moment laura and belle both screamed, while dan dalzell shouted: "there she goes--for sure, this time!" a bigger wave than usual had half filled the launch and caused it to careen. before the little craft could right itself a second and a third wave, rolling along, had completed the work. the launch had sunk! chapter ii proving their training in the same instant, without a word to each other, dave darrin and dalzell had done the same thing. that is, they started to run and at the same time doffed coats and vests, leaving these garments to flutter behind them. as they reached the sailboat both midshipmen cast off their shoes. dave leaped into the boat while dalzell threw off the bowline, then boarded. like a flash both youngsters went at the lashings of the mainsail. "there isn't a reef in," dan discovered. "going to take time for a close reef, dave?" "there isn't time," darrin muttered, with drops of cold perspiration on his forehead as he toiled. "we'll have to go out under a full sail, dan." "great scott!" muttered dalzell. "we may be too late to save any one as it is. there! jump to the halyard. i've got the sheet." dan dalzell began to hoist with a will. in an incredibly short time he had the sail hoisted all the way up, while darrin, stern and whitefaced, crouched and braced himself by the tiller, gripping the sheet with his left hand. in a twinkling darrin had the wind in his canvas. they had nearly a fair wind as they bounded away from the float. during these few instants of preparation neither belle nor laura had spoken. both girls realized the gravity of the situation, and they knew that a word from them might distract the rescuers from the work in hand. knowing that he had the high, fast wind with him, dave steered straight for the last spot where he had seen the motor launch. though the boat was no longer visible, and the distance too great for seeing the heads of the swimmers, if there were any, darrin had taken his bearings by trees on the further shore upstream. at first, to keep the sailboat from capsizing, the young skipper at the helm let the sheet well out. then, when dan hurriedly rejoined him, darrin passed the sheet over to his comrade as to one who would know exactly what to do with it. dan perched himself on the weather gunwale, his weight there serving as ballast to keep the craft from capsizing. yet, even so, everything had to be done with the utmost skill, for, with the mainsail up, the least fluke in handling the boat would send her over. "we've got to go fast and take all the chances," muttered dave. "sure," nodded midshipman dan understandingly. "it would be no great scare to us if we did heel over into the drink. it might mean a different story, though, for those who are already sopping up the wet." "aren't they splendid fellows?" cried laura. "yes," answered belle, her eyes snapping and her face glowing. "though i won't claim that they're any finer than your own west point boys." that brought an added flush to the color in laura bentley's face, and her eyes sparkled her gratitude, for dick prescott, now at west point with his chum, greg holmes, had been her high school sweetheart, and doubtless was to become her army sweetheart after he had made sure of his career. "dave and dan are experts," glowed miss bentley. "they'll know just what to do." "they're better than mere experts," returned belle meade. "they're strong and manly to the core, and with them there's no such word as fear when there's a duty to be done." both dave and dan were peering fixedly ahead all the time that they drove the sailboat toward the scene of the late disaster. "i think i see a head," cried darrin. "boy or girl!" demanded midshipman dalzell. "can't tell at this distance. and now the next wave has blotted out what i thought i saw." "we've got to be patient," uttered dan. the position of the midshipmen was far from being free of danger. with all their coolness and their undoubted skill in boat handling, there was grave danger, with the mainsail set, that, at any instant, wind and wave would capsize the boat. indeed, dave was running the lee gunwale under water half the time, trusting to the human ballast supplied by his comrade to keep them afloat. "see anything now?" demanded dave. "no," uttered dan, "though i'm working my eyes three shifts to try to make out something. i'll have to go to an oculist as soon as i get through with this. this eyestrain is awful." midshipman dan dalzell was really unconscious of the fact that he was joking. it was second nature with him; he would have jested--unconsciously--with death in its most awful form. "there, i see a head--two of them!" cried midshipman dave suddenly, as he half rose and pointed. "hurrah!"--from dan. dan let the boat's head fall off a point in order that he might see better around the mast on the weather side, just where he must head his craft in the last dash in. "it's foss and ella wright," called dan, as the flying sailboat got in closer over the foam-crested waves. "no, it isn't; foss has susie." "can you make out canty and ella?" demanded darrin hoarsely. "not a sign, dave. maybe he's gone under trying to save ella." "canty was one of our gridley high school boys, so i'd expect him to have both the nerve and the grace to go down with a girl, if he couldn't save her as well as himself," muttered darrin. "there's canty, just come up!" "can you make out ella's head?" "no." "look hard." "i don't see her, and--there!" "what's up?" "nothing," returned dalzell soberly. "canty's down--just gone down again." "i hope he's gone down trying to find and rescue ella," murmured dave. they were now so close that the young midshipmen would have been able to hear the shouts of the imperiled ones had it not been that the wind blew the sounds of voices away from the would-be rescuers. "better ease off the sheet a bit, i guess, davy," called dan, as he suited the action to the word. "we don't went to run 'em down." "no." as he spoke, dave darrin brought the boat slightly around. they were now close enough to see that tom foss was supporting dead weight in the person of susie, who was unconscious. "waiting the word from you on the sheet, davy," nodded dan, as the boat drew close to the only pair of survivors now visible. "let go the sheet!" called dave an instant later, and dan let it run off clear, handing the end of the rope to darrin. "can you head susie this way, foss?" dalzell called. "i'd rather have help," came the faint answer. tom foss was evidently well spent by his exertions in keeping up the girl so long. splash! dan dalzell was in the water, without waiting to hear more. the athletic young midshipman swam with a steadiness and speed that was glorious to see. many an excellent swimmer, in smooth water, would dread buffeting with such waves as were now rolling. dave darrin, meanwhile, held on to the tiller and the paid-out sheet, ready to manoeuvre the now pitching, rolling boat at an instant's notice. it took all his seamanship to keep the craft afloat, though the sailboat was far better modeled for such water than the motor launch had been. "give her over to me, and save yourself," commanded dalzell cheerily, as he reached tom foss. "think you can make it, old fellow?" "if i can't, i ought to drown," retorted tom foss, as he struck out, none too strongly. "this is all my fault. you fellows gave me better advice than i had sense to follow." dan, with a skill that he had acquired directly from the excellent instruction given him by the swimming master at the naval academy, was now piloting the unconscious form of susie danes toward the sailboat. even encumbered as he was, dan made the boat before tom foss could accomplish that feat alone. truth to tell, foss was very nearly "all in." had rescue been delayed a few moments longer, foss and his fair companion must have sunk. "get hold of her, davy," called dan, as he ranged up on the weather side of the tossing boat. darrin promptly leaned over and lifted the unconscious girl into the boat. by the time he had done that tom foss reached up both hands, seizing the boat's stern. "going to help me in?" he called. "i don't know," dave answered dubiously. "if we can find ella wright there may not be room. with such a sea running, this boat won't hold many." "no matter about me, then," muttered tom. "if ella isn't found right away i don't believe i care about going back to gridley." dave's response was swiftly to knot a noose and let it down over tom's shoulders. the other end of the line he made fast astern. dalzell, in the meantime, had swum back again. susie danes lay as still as death in the bottom of the boat. as dalzell got back where he had first reached foss and susie, he espied the head of ab canty some distance away. "ab!" called dan. "here!" "what has become of ella?" "oh, i wish i knew!" "was she afloat at all!" demanded dan, swimming nearer. "yes; i kept her up for a couple of minutes, maybe. then she got more scared, wound her arms tight around me, and we both sank. we had a struggle under water. i freed myself, but when i came to the top i found that my hand was clutching nothing but her empty jersey. there it is now," chattered ab, his teeth, knocking against each other, as he pointed to the garment in question on the top of a distant wave. then ab sank. for just an instant dalzell thought canty had gone below on purpose. dan swam closer, to be of assistance. then he saw the bubbles of air coming up rapidly. "cantys given out--he's going to drown!" gasped midshipman dan, with horror. like a flash dan dived below, found and clutched at canty. the young man returned the grip with interest, but midshipman dalzell struggled to the surface with him. ab canty was exhausted, out of his head and altogether past reasoning. dan hated to do it, but he had to strike the young man in the forehead. canty gave a gasp and ceased to resist. dave darrin, watching, had run the boat up close alongside as soon as the struggling pair appeared above the waves. "you'll have to take him in, davy," announced midshipman dalzell. "canty isn't strong enough to tow behind. and i'm coming aboard for a fresh look before i dive for miss wright." "you're going to stay aboard and manage the boat," retorted darrin quietly. "i'm going in next." "oh, all right, if you want to," half grumbled dan. "but i'm just beginning to get used to it and to like it." dan, however, followed orders and took his seat by tiller and sheet as soon as they had towed canty safely in the boat. tom foss, lied and holding on at the stern, was beginning to chatter hard, but said he was all right. a brief instant of consultation the two midshipmen held. then dave darrin, holding his hands before him, dived hard and deep into the water. after nearly a minute he came up again, but only to take an observation. then he sank, to explore more of the space under water. for five minutes darrin continued this, making four dives in all, and sinking twice without diving. "i can't give this up, and abandon a girl," he muttered. "dan, i've got to take more account of the current, and work gradually downstream." a little later dave rose with a whoop the instant that his head showed above the water. "i've got her," dave announced, though his voice was hoarse and panting. "hurrah!" came from dan, as he saw the girl's head show above the surface. dalzell, hauling on the sheet, ran the boat in close. dave grasped at the rail on the weather quarter, while dan bent over him, hauling hard. and so ella wright was dragged unconscious into the boat. "i'd stay here in the water with you, tom," explained dave, "but i've got to be in the boat to do my share of handling her." "th-th-that's all r-r-r-r-right," chattered poor foss, "i'm d-d-d-doing f-f-f-fine here--c-c-c-couldn't h-help in the b-b-b-boat" while lying to, it had taken some fine management on the part of the midshipmen to keep the sailboat from capsizing. and now, on this rough, wave-strewn river, they had to tack back against a nearly head wind. "look at the crowd on the clubhouse float," gasped dan as soon as the naval chums had gotten their craft under way. "good thing," muttered darrin. "we'll need plenty of help." "i wonder how the crowd got wind of the thing in such short time?" "you forget," nudged darrin, "that there's a telephone in the clubhouse. laura and belle are not given to losing their heads. undoubtedly they've been 'phoning to gridley." "then they can't have overlooked the need of physicians," ventured dan, "especially as laura is the daughter of one." as the boat drew nearer to the float the noise of cheers was borne to the ears of the midshipmen. "more of the hero racket," uttered dan disgustedly. "i hope this won't get into the newspapers," grunted darrin in a tone of something like real alarm. "say, the fellows of the brigade wouldn't do a thing but make us mount chairs and read all the fulsome gush about this rescue." "and then, after we'd finished a straight reading," groaned dan, "we'd have to sing it next, to the tune of 'columbia, the pride of the ocean.'" "'gem of the ocean,' dan," darrin corrected. though in the middle of the river the sailboat had many a close shave from capsizing in the strong puffs of wind, especially with the load that the little craft carried, yet dan dalzell, at the tiller, brought the boat at last in under the lee side of the float, and there a score of pairs of willing hands reached out with offers of help. dr. bentley was in the crowd, as were two other gridley physicians. there were also two trained nurses, and one of the druggists had brought along a big emergency box of drugs and supplies. between them the telephone and the automobile can accomplish a lot in these modern times. laura and belle, though they had summoned the aid, now kept tactfully in the background. the two apparently drowned girls were lifted from the boat in haste and borne to a room that had been made ready on the second floor of the clubhouse. ab canty was carried to another room, and tom foss, who nearly shook to pieces when lifted from the water, was helped after his friend. "you two young midshipmen will have to come inside and get some of our attention," called dr. bentley in an authoritative voice. "i think not, thank you, doctor," replied dave darrin. "the most that we want is some place where we can strip and rub down, while waiting for dry clothing." "i know just the room, and i'll take you there," urged len spencer, reporter for the "morning blade." len was an old friend of dick prescott, who, in his high school days before going to west point, had worked as an amateur space reporter for the "blade." len led the way gladly. while dan and dave stripped and rubbed down, len got out of them the whole account of what they had been through. reporter spencer had already talked with belle and laura. a man in an auto had already started for the homes of the two midshipmen, to obtain changes of clothing for them. "now, len," begged dave, "don't spread on a lot of taffy. don't smother us under the hero racket." "but it was an heroic thing," len argued. "and, besides, it was done with great skill, of the kind that you've gained at the naval academy. it makes a corking, elegant story about two of our brightest gridley lads." "but, len, do you realize that the fellows at the naval academy will make us read aloud to them this yarn you're proposing to write about us--that is, if they happen to hear about it?" "and then, after we've read the yarn straight, they'll make us sing it all to some blamed old tune or another," groaned dalzell. "well, i can't help it," sighed good-natured len. "it's a story we've got to have to-morrow morning. i'd lose my position if i didn't write a good story about this afternoon's work. and, now that i've got a wife and baby to feed, i can't afford to waste any good time in job-hunting." "then i hope none of the other fellows at the naval academy hear about the 'blade's' story," gulped dan, as he wrapped himself in a blanket while waiting for his dry clothes. "hear about it?" retorted len. "they'll hear about it, all right. the associated press man at gridley will be sure to send something about it to the papers all over the country." "i guess we've got to take our medicine, danny," hinted midshipman dave darrin. in the meantime tom foss was soon comfortable, wrapped up in blankets and with plenty of coffee inside him. nor did it take long to bring ab canty around. in three quarters of an hour susie danes opened her eyes. as for ella wright, the physicians and nurses worked over her long and earnestly, and were on the point of giving her up when at last a flutter of her eyelids was seen. by night time all of the young people were quite out of danger, but the parents of the wright and danes families were highly indignant over the recklessness of tom foss in taking the girls out on the river in such a heavy wind. three days later even the launch was saved; that is, it was raised and was towed to a boat-builder for overhauling and repairs. chapter iii the trouble-making fop the story that len spencer wrote for the "blade" was "worse" than the midshipmen had expected. that is, the newspaper made them out to be heroes of some rare, solid-gold type. to add to the trouble, the story, in a condensed form, was printed broadcast by the dailies all over the country. "we can't hope to keep it quiet, danny boy," groaned dave when the two chums met the next morning. "no," sighed dan. "the most we can hope for is to be allowed to live it down." "and i'm much afraid that we've got to stand for a lot more of gush this afternoon," continued darrin. "at the reception? oh, yes! i wish we could desert the town and get away somewhere to hide." the affair for the afternoon was a reception for which laura bentley had sent out hurried invitations to a lot of the former high school boys and girls of gridley. though laura was more especially interested in the u. s. military academy at west point--because dick prescott was there--yet she did not show undue partiality to the army. "i'm sorry laura didn't wait a fortnight," dan continued. "oh, well, she doesn't understand," dave urged. "you're going, of course?" "i surely am. i wouldn't slight that splendid girl. she's a whole lot to me, danny boy, both for her own sake and dick prescott's." even the short stroll, however, between belle meade's home and laura's, was bound to bring dave darrin again into the unwished-for limelight. he and belle had turned into main street together, and were walking along, chatting, when belle's eyes flashed suddenly. "there's that horrid wretch ardmore," she murmured in an undertone. "don't believe i know him," darrin returned. "then you haven't been deprived of much," replied belle, in a tone that was very nearly bitter. "i've been meaning to tell you about him, dave, but other matters have been cropping up and it has escaped me until now." "what's wrong with ardmore?" asked dave. "he's posing as an admirer of mine." "i can't quarrel with his taste," smiled darrin. "but he annoys me." "has he dared to do that?" demanded dave, a quick flash in his eyes. "not in any way that it would be easy to resent," belle assured him. "who is this fellow ardmore?" "he appears to be a gentleman--at least in his ordinary conduct," belle meade answered. "he moved here last spring with his parents. the father is a retired lawyer, and wealthy. the ardmores move in a rather good set in town. about a month ago caspar ardmore, the young man, met me at a church affair. ever since then he has all but waylaid me. several times he has tried to walk with me when we met, and has often tried to see me home from church or elsewhere. i've been almost downright rude to him, and have shown him in every way i can that i don't wish to continue acquaintance. but he's hard to discourage." "he hasn't insulted you?" asked dave quietly. "oh, dear, no! if he had, i think i might have been able to startle him somewhat," laughed belle, who had a "temper" when it was necessary to have one. as she spoke she raised her eyes, glancing ahead. "there, he has stopped, and looks almost as though he were waiting for us," she added. "there's an ugly scowl on his face, too." dave darrin looked ahead at the foppish, rather good-looking, tall and slender young man of some twenty-six years. "i hope he isn't going to be troublesome," murmured dave. "i don't want to have to fight with him--at least, not when you're along with me." as they neared ardmore, dave continued to look at the young man quietly, steadily, frankly. ardmore seemed trying to ignore the gaze, and looked, instead, at belle. just as the young couple reached him, ardmore raised his hat, at the same time stepping forward so that he blocked belle's progress. "good afternoon, miss meade," was ardmore's greeting. "i was on my way to your house when i saw you. mother has some tickets for a concert at the sorosis rooms, and is unable to use them this afternoon. so i have come to ask you if you will not honor me with your company at the concert?" "thank you, no," belle answered coldly. "and i would also like to make it plain, mr. ardmore, since you make it necessary, that i do not wish your company at any time or place. i am sorry to have to speak so plainly." a deep flush dyed the cheeks of the fop. but he was not so easily discouraged. "i had intended to call this evening, miss meade. i am to have a box at the theatre." "you may call anywhere you wish," belle retorted, her eyes flashing, "provided it is not at my home." "oh, i am very much afraid that you are annoyed with me," cried ardmore. "i am," belle admitted. "mr. ardmore, will you do me the very great favor of ceasing your attempts at acquaintance?" "acquaintance? why, we're already very well acquainted, miss meade; in fact, i had hoped that we were, by this time, the most excellent friends. if this gentleman," with a sidelong look at dave, "will excuse us, miss meade, will you stroll along with me and tell me in what way i may have offended you without intending anything of the sort?" dave, who had remained quiet, now felt called upon to interpose. "sir," he demanded, "will you observe miss meade's request and take yourself away?" "and what have you to say about this?" demanded ardmore sneeringly. "the young lady is under my protection." "i have offered her mine." "and miss meade has just told you that you will please her most by keeping away from her at all times," replied darrin quietly but firmly. "what? after all the good times she and i have enjoyed together?" demanded ardmore, as though astounded beyond measure. "i? good times with you?" cried belle, her cheeks flaming. "i've never even spoken to you when i could avoid it." "that's false!" cried young ardmore hotly. "stop, right there!" warned dave darrin in a quieter voice than ever, though his face paled swiftly. "did i understand you to remark that miss meade had made a false statement?" "you did!" whack! darrin's clenched right fist caught the fop on the temple, felling him to the ground. "go right on to laura's, belle," begged dave quickly. "i'll be along soon." miss meade walked rapidly ahead. ardmore was on his feet in an instant. not wanting in a certain amount of animal courage, he rushed at dave, only to be met with a blow in the mouth that floored him again. the fop's lip was cut and bleeding when he rose. "you cur!" bellowed the fellow. "the opinion of a person like you can't matter very much," dave retorted coolly. a little crowd was beginning to gather. dave's pallor increased, for his very soul writhed at the thought of having belle's name involved in a brawl in this fashion. "you're a--" began ardmore, but dave darrin moved quickly up to him. "do you retract the statement you made?" demanded the midshipman in a low voice. "i retract nothing," quivered ardmore. "i repeat, and repeat--" dave closed in like lightning, ardmore attempted to guard himself, but he was all but helpless before such a fast, trained hitter as dave. the fop went down under two well-aimed blows delivered almost together. once more ardmore leaped to his feet, while darrin disdainfully awaited him. but two or three men in the crowd leaped between the enemies, forcing the fop back. "don't be a fool, ardmore!" urged one of the men, speaking in the fellow's ear. "that's midshipman dave darrin, and he's one of the quickest, hardest hitters in gridley." "oh, that's the midshipman, is it?" demanded ardmore in a sneering voice. "oh, well, then, i won't hit him again. i know another way of making his skin smart." dave tarried only long enough to make sure that the fop did not care to carry the encounter further. then, turning on his heel, he walked rapidly in the direction belle had taken. he overtook that young lady before she reached the bentley home. [illustration: darrin's blow felled the fop to the ground.] "if the fellow intends to trouble you again, i hope he'll do it before my leave is finished," spoke dave quietly. "i think i've given him a little lesson, belle, though there's no telling how long it will last with inferior animals of ardmore's type." "he's a spiteful fellow, dave. you must be on your guard against him," belle urged. "i guess ardmore is wishing his own guard had been more effective," smiled the midshipman. caspar ardmore was "busy" within an hour after dave's summary handling of him. ardmore had never been considered a truly bad fellow, though he was foppish, conceited and wholly unable to understand why anything that he wanted should be denied him. belle was now two years beyond her high school days, and had developed into a most attractive young woman. ardmore had fallen victim to her charms and had decided that he would make a better husband for her than any naval officer could. hence the young dandy had pursued miss meade with his attentions; upon finding her with dave, he had hoped, in his foolish way, to put an end to darrin's pretensions. ardmore, therefore, having met only disaster, was now engaged in drawing up a complaint to be sent to the secretary of the navy, complaining that he had been set upon and treated with severe physical violence by midshipman darrin. nor was there great difficulty in finding three men, out of the small crowd that had witnessed the assault, to swear to affidavits that they had seen darrin knock caspar ardmore down repeatedly. all this "evidence" ardmore got together with great relish, and mailed the mass of stuff, that same night, to the secretary of the navy at washington. then ardmore went out of town for three days. behind him he left an active toady who promised to keep watch of matters and to advise him. it was through this toady that dave received an intimation that his case would be attended to at washington. belle, also, received a hint, and with it she went to darrin. "can the fellow really make any trouble for you, dave?" she asked anxiously. "why, yes," admitted dave. "anyone can make trouble for a midshipman, to the extent that the charge must be investigated by the navy department. if the secretary were satisfied that i am a reckless sort of bully, he would decide that i am unfit to be an officer of the navy." chapter iv in the view of the navy department dave darrin did not let the news of the charges disturb his outward serenity, though he was inwardly aware that perjured evidence might work great harm to his future career. until he was advised by the navy department that charges had been made against him, he really could do nothing in the matter. but that letter from the secretary was not long in coming. the letter informed midshipman darrin that he has been accused of severely assaulting a citizen without just provocation, and contained, also, some of the circumstances alleged by caspar ardmore. dave was commanded to forward his defense promptly. this darrin did, in a courteous answer, as briefly as he could properly make it. he admitted knocking ardmore down, but stated that he did it in resenting an insult offered by ardmore to a young lady under his (darrin's) escort at the time. this letter he showed belle. "it is the first step, on my side in the matter," he explained with a smile. "i should think the secretary of the navy ought to be satisfied with your answer and drop it at once," replied belle. "he may." "but you think he won't?" "it is likely, belle, that there will be a court of inquiry at least." "oh, dear!" cried belle, a few tears gleaming in her eyes now. "why should so much fuss be made over the matter?" "because i am being trained to be an officer in the navy. an officer must be a gentleman as well. any charge affecting a naval officer's honor or courtesy must be investigated, in order that the government may know whether the accused is fit to hold an officer's commission. the government wouldn't be dealing justly with the people if such standards were not observed." "and i am the cause of all this trouble for you?" cried belle. "no, belle, you are not. you have nothing to do with the matter, except indirectly. ardmore is the one responsible for the trouble. if he had not insulted you he wouldn't have gotten into any difficulty." "it seems too bad, just the same." "it's annoying; that's all," dave assured her. "if i had to do the same thing over again, for the same reason, i'd do it cheerfully." mrs. meade heard of it all, from her daughter. without saying a word as to her intentions the mother herself wrote a letter to the secretary of the navy. mrs. meade set forth the persistent fashion in which ardmore had sought to force his attentions upon belle, to the latter's great annoyance. mrs. meade's letter declared that darrin had taken the only possible means of saving belle from future annoyance. the mother's letter to the secretary concluded by offering to procure statements from other people on the subject if the secretary wished. mrs. meade received a prompt reply from washington. the secretary thanked her for her statements and expressed entire belief in them. by the same mail caspar ardmore, just returned to gridley, received this letter: "referring to your letter and complaint bearing date of september 6, the department has to advise you that other statements have also been received bearing upon your accusations of an assault alleged to have been committed upon your person by midshipman david darrin. "it is claimed by the signers of other statements, including that of midshipman darrin, that you grossly insulted a young woman under his escort and completed the insult by accusing her of falsehood. if these statements be true, and there be no other important circumstances, except the assault, the department begs to advise you that, had not midshipman darrin resented the gross insult tendered the woman under his protection, he would thereby, by such inaction, have rendered himself liable to dismissal from the navy. it is always the first duty of a gentleman to afford ample protection to any woman under his escort and care. "should you deny the statements quoted above in favor of midshipman darrin, and should you further desire to have the matter brought to issue before a duly appointed court of inquiry, before which you would be required to appear as a material witness, this department will be glad so to be advised. if you do not make formal application for the appointment of such court of inquiry within the next few days, no further action will be taken in the matter. very respectfully, "your obedient servant, "(signed) leok b. chambers, "_secretary of the navy_." as he read, and realized how flat his charge had fallen, ardmore's face passed through several shades of red. "of all the government red tape!" he muttered wrathfully. "i didn't think the fool secretary would do anything like this. i thought he'd just call darrin down hard and plenty, and perhaps bounce him out of the naval academy. humph! i guess all these navy folks stand together. there doesn't seem to be much justice about it." ardmore thereupon took another vacation away from gridley. a few days after he went midshipman darrin received a brief communication from the secretary of the navy, stating that no further action had been taken by the accuser, and that the department was satisfied that the midshipman's conduct had been fully justified. therefore the matter would not be called to the attention of the naval academy authorities for action. "so you see," smiled dave, as he called at belle's home and handed her the letter, "there is never any need to be worried until trouble breaks in earnest." "oh, i'm so glad!" cried belle, her eyes shining with delight, "i hope you won't meet that ardmore fellow again while you're home." "if i do," promised dave, "i shall merely look over his head when we meet, unless he repeats the offense that brought him that thrashing." ardmore, however, did not appear in gridley again during dave's leave of absence. dave and dan tasted, to the full, the delights of life in the old home town until the day when it was necessary for them to take train and return to annapolis. "mother, laura and i will go down to annapolis whenever we hear from you as to the best time for coming," miss meade promised at the railway station. then she found chance to murmur, in a voice too low for any of the others present to hear: "and i'll try hard not to be such a goose as i was last winter!" she referred to the trouble that had been made by another girl at annapolis, the circumstances of which are wholly familiar to the readers of the earlier volumes of this series. "i don't blame you for the way you felt last winter," dave assured her heartily, "next time, however, i hope you'll come to me first for an explanation." "there isn't going to be any next time, dave." three minutes later two midshipmen were being whirled through the city limits of gridley. chapter v navy football in the air back on the old, familiar academy grounds! both dave and dan underwent an unconscious brace as they passed the watchman at the main gate and stepped on, each with a suit case in hand, to the left, with bancroft hall in the distance. their first move was, as it must be, to report their return to the officer in charge. by that officer the two midshipmen were assigned to the rooms that they were to occupy during the coming academic year. once behind their doors, both young men hastened to get out of cit. clothes and back into their beloved uniforms. "there are worse liveries to wear than uncle sam's," murmured dan dalzell when, having arrayed himself, he glanced down lovingly at the neat, dark blue. "much worse," replied dave briefly, as, having dressed, he set to work to help make their quarters neat enough to please even the captious eye of the discipline officer. by the time that the two midshipmen finished policing their quarters no housekeeper in the land could have found the least sign of disorder. rap-tap! sounded briskly at the door. "come in," called dave. the door opened, revealing midshipman hepson, of the first class. "are you fellows to rights?" he called. "come in, hepson," urged dave. "yes; we're to rights as far as quarters go." hepson came no more than inside the door before he halted, asking briskly: "have you anything on!" "nothing but our clothes," grinned dan, "and some hair." "you've no appointments or engagements, then?" persisted hepson. "my being here won't interfere with anything that you want to do?" "not in the least," dave replied. "oh, then, i'll invite myself to a chair," declared the first classman, suiting the action to the word. "now, you fellows can guess why i'm here." "you're captain of this year's football eleven," dave replied. "has that anything to do with your call?" "everything," admitted hepson briskly. "have you fellows any notion that we've a poor eleven, so far, this year?" "why i thought it pretty good, from the practice work that i saw done in august," darrin answered slowly. "a pretty good eleven doesn't win games, sir," retorted hepson. "man, we've got to strengthen the team all along the line, or i'll go down in naval academy history as captain of the worst lot of dubs who ever chased a pigskin around the field!" "is it as bad as that?" demanded dan, opening his eyes. "dalzell," said hepson, "our eleven is rotten, sir--simply and fiercely useless!" "if it's as bad as that," hinted dan innocently, "wouldn't it be a prime good idea to draw our eleven from the field this year?" "what? strike the navy's colors, and especially to the army?" glared mr. hepson. "what are you talking about?" "then i guess," nodded dan, "that we'll have to stay in the ring, and let it go by apologizing to the army for getting in their way on the field the saturday after thanksgiving." "we won't do that, either, by jingo!" retorted midshipman hepson. "but we've got to strengthen our team. we've got to practice every minute that the commandant will allow us for practice. we've got to make a front-rank team out of--nearly nothing!" "aren't there any good players who have been holding back?" asked dave darrin. "two that i know of, darrin," rejoined hepson, fixing his eyes keenly on dave. "who are they?" "you and dalzell." "we haven't backed out, or refused duty," darrin retorted quickly. "no; but you haven't pushed yourselves forward any, either." "well, we're hardly team material," objected dave modestly. "however, i'll promise for myself and dalzell, too, that we'll turn out to all the practice we can, and work like blazes!" "will you?" cried midshipman hepson delightedly. he jumped up, grasping each midshipman by the hand in turn. "but you don't want to bank on us too much," darrin continued. "you know, we've never played on anything as big as the navy team. we used to be good enough little players on a country school team. but it's different here." "let the coaches and the captain find that out, then," grunted hepson. "but you'll work? you'll try to make good? you'll try to make the team and some history?" "we'd lay down our lives for the navy, at any point and in any sort of game," rejoined dave darrin simply. "good! bully! that's the way i like to hear a fellow talk!" glowed hepson, making toward the door. "you'll turn out for practice to-morrow afternoon?" "without fail, if we're physically able," promised midshipman darrin. "awfully obliged to you, fellows," cried hepson, throwing the door open. "and now you won't mind if i cut my visit short? i've a lot of fellows to see, you know." the door banged and hepson was gone. "say, how's the navy going to win under a chap as nervous as hepson?" asked dan. "that isn't nervousness, danny boy." "if it isn't, what is it, then?" "electricity." "elec--oh, say, now--" "it's electricity," dave insisted. "he's a live wire, that man hepson. he'll pull us through on the field this year, if any one can." "there's nothing like looking on the bright side of things," murmured dalzell, drumming on his chair. "i'd rather see hepson under estimate the navy team," went on dave, "than feel too sure that it is invincible. still, i believe that the navy is going to put forward a mighty strong eleven this year. though, of course, that is not saying that we can beat the army." "why not?" demanded dalzell almost fiercely. "because, no matter how good a line we put forward, the army may put forward a better." "now, don't go tooting the army's bugle!" "i am just considering the average of chances," darrin returned. "danny boy, sometimes the navy wins, but most of the games of past years have gone to the army. so the chances are that we'll be beaten this year." "not if i have to die on the line to stop it!" glowed dalzell at red heat. "maybe you won't even get on the navy line; perhaps i won't, either, danny boy. but you know we saw by the "army and navy journal" that prescott and holmes are playing on the west point eleven this year." "holmes isn't necessarily such a much, is he?" flared dan. "greg holmes is a pretty handy man on the football field," retorted darrin warmly. "none ought to know that better than we, after we've seen holmes pull out so many victories for the old high school team. of course, prescott is the better player, but holmes can back him up to amazing advantage." "didn't we play about as good a game as that pair?" dalzell demanded. "i don't know," dave answered thoughtfully. "perhaps not quite as good a game. you see, in the old high school days, dick prescott used to lead and i often backed up his plays. so one could hardly compare us." "if you're in such a blue funk over the navy's chances, you'd better keep off the line-up," muttered midshipman dalzell. "oh, i'm in no funk," returned darrin, smiling. "however, i'm not going to be betrayed into any bragging until we've wiped the field up with the army--if we can." rap-tap! came on the door. "i'll wager that's farley," whispered darrin. "or page"--from dan. "come in," called dave. the door opened, to let in farley, with page crowding on his heels. dave and dan both hastened forward to clasp hands with these tried chums of other days. "seen hepson?" asked dan. "yes," nodded farley. "he told us he had gobbled you. hepson just left us." "you're going to be on the eleven!" pressed dan. "if we can make it," nodded farley slowly. "i'd like to play, too, but i'm hoping that the navy can hit on some one better than myself." "cold feet!" grinned dan. "not exactly," farley answered, with a slight flush. "but it's a big thing to play on the navy's fighting eleven. it seems almost too big a responsibility for any but a demi-god." "demi-gods don't play football," jeered dan. "they're nothing but idols, anyway, and they're two thousand years out of date. what we want on the navy line is real human flesh and blood." "there'll be blood on the doorstep of the moon if the army carries things away from us this year," predicted page mournfully. "well, all we can do is our best," declared dave. "we'll do that, too, and do it mightily. wow! what's that?" ta-ra-ra-ta-ra-ta! sounded musically in the corridors. "supper formation, by jove!" gasped dan. farley and page fled without a word. soon the "decks" of bancroft hall swarmed with young life. then, outside, to seaward, the brigade fell in by companies. military commands rang out briskly, roll was called, reports made and the brigade marched in to supper. what a joyous, noisy affair it was. some license in the way of boisterousness was allowed this evening, and most of the young men took full advantage of the fact. swat! a slice of bread, soaked in a glass of water and kneaded into a soppy ball, struck dalzell full in the back of the neck, plastering his collar and sending a sticky mess down his spine. "i'll fight the man who did that," promised midshipman dan, wheeling around. then added cautiously: "if he's a graduate." there being, naturally, no graduates present except the officer at the furthest corner of the mess hall, dan's challenge provoked laughter. many other pranks were played, but there is not room to record them here. the meal over and the brigade dismissed, some of the midshipmen--there were nearly eight hundred of them--went to their own quarters, or visited the rooms of cronies. hundreds took the air in the grounds. almost the sole topic was football. hepson speedily had most of the members of the big squad gathered about him. others, who could not hope to "make" in football, gathered near-by, as though afraid of losing some of the talk. "remember, gentlemen, until the army game is over, it's to be nothing this year but work, work, work!" warned midshipman hepson, with intense earnestness. with nothing but football in the air, dan soon caught the infection even more deeply than his chum. "hang it, i'm a dub," groaned dan. "lots of the fellows gave up their leave in order to be here and practise. why in the mischief didn't i?" "for the same reason that perhaps i didn't sacrifice leave," replied dave. "i wasn't asked to. and you weren't, either, were you?" "no; but i wish i had flung myself at hepson's head, and made him take me, instead of going off to gridley like a deserter! it's october now, and what earthly chance, dave, have you and i to get in shape?" "we'll do our best, danny boy, or stay off the line. there's nothing to be gained by losing our heads. regrets will be equally worthless." "hepson," called one midshipman, "has anyone invented the navy yells for this year?" "yells?" repeated the football captain scornfully. "it's more to the purpose to fit ourselves to do something worth yelling about!" "has hepson got the blues?" asked another midshipman. "or only the rattles?" football was still in the air, dominating the minds of the midshipmen when a turn of the master switch shut off the lights at taps. chapter vi the hate of a rival the day following was one of intense, almost complicated routine. there were books and supplies to be drawn for the new academic year. there were uniforms and other articles of apparel to be drawn. the sections were detailed and section marchers to be appointed. there were details of military organization to be announced. some of the young men had to go up for physical examination, even if only of the eyes. at the afternoon recreation hour hepson led the big football squad out to the field. hundreds of midshsipmen went there to see how the navy would show up in the vitally important tests. at the outset hepson was everywhere, like a buzzing, excitable wasp. nor did he prove to be minus a sting at times. "i think, sir," suggested hepson, going over to lieutenant-commander havens, the head coach, "that it would be well for us to know something about the running speed of every candidate." "very good, mr. hepson; try out any man that you're curious about," replied the officer. "darrin, dalzell, page, farley, white, bryant," called the captain of the navy team. "each of you pick up a ball. line up at this goal-line, joyce, will you take a stop-watch and go over to the other goal-line? adams, go along and assist joyce. i want a record of the time it takes each man to cover the distance, running as fast as he can with the ball." the men designated took their places. "i'll run you first, darrin," announced the captain. "go like a streak, if you can. if you fall down it counts zero. start when i say 'go.' are you ready?" "quite ready." "go!" at the word dave sped away like a shot, hepson giving a hand signal as he uttered the starting word, that the time-keeper at the other end might know when to release the watch. dave's time was noted. then dan took a try, covering the distance in only two fifths of a second more time than darrin had required. farley was a second and three fifths behind darrin's time; page, a full two seconds behind. white and bryant then ran, but only succeeded in about tying page's work. then six more men were called to the line and tried out. after that a third squad. by this time midshipman hepson had his mind about made up as to the relative speeds of some of the most likely men for the final navy team. "get out for some kicks, now!" called hepson. "when are you going to play football?" growled one man. midshipman hepson turned on him like a flash. "jetson, there's a substitute captain in the squad, but you're not the man. neither are you one of the coaches." "oh, you make me--" began jetson, but midshipman hepson cut him short with: "if you can't keep silence when you've nothing to say, your absence from the field will be considered a favor to the whole squad." jetson scowled, but said nothing more. neither did he offer to retire from the field. "jetson has always been a kicker and a trouble mosquito," whispered dan dalzell to his chum. "oh, in a lot of ways jetson is a nice fellow," darrin replied quietly. "the greatest trouble that ails him is that he has just a trifle too large opinion of the importance of his own opinions. there are a lot of us troubled in that way." the kicking practice was put through with dash and vim. then midshipman hepson, after a brief conference with the head coach, called off the line-up for the provisional navy team, following this with a roster of the second team, or "rustlers," so called because they force the men of the navy team to rustle to keep their places. dave darrin was called off for left tackle, dan for left end. farley and page held the corresponding positions on the right end of the line-up. "begin the game, the rustlers to have the ball," called lieutenant-commander havens. "and mix it up lively, navy," called hepson, who, both on account of his size and other qualifications, played center. at the whistle-blast the rustlers kicked it off--a beautiful, long, arching curve. the ball came to quarter-back, who passed it to dave darrin. then the fun began. the navy line hit the rustlers hard and tried to bump through. dan dalzell devoted every ounce of his strength and every turn of his energy to boosting darrin through--and dave himself was not idle. there was an instant of sullen, hard resistance. then, somehow, dave was shot through the opposing line. like a deer he sped, dan hanging to his flanks. it was up to the rustlers' halfback now, and that bulky young midshipman leaped to the fray, cleverly barring the way. at least, the rustlers' halfback thought he had darrin blocked. it is never wise to take too much for granted. as the halfback planted himself for the grapple, dave suddenly dropped through that opponent's grip and went to the ground. as though he had been shot through, dave darrin went under and past, on one side, between the halfback's legs. he was up again, with dan at his back. fullback came at them, but dan bumped that player aside. dave dashed on across the line, scoring a touchdown. never had the gridiron been the scene of greater excitement than in that rousing moment. "darrin! darrin! darrin!" came hoarsely; from hundreds of throats. "dalzell! dalzell!" came the next gusty roar. hepson wiped a moist brow with one hand. "there are two real players, if they can keep that up," muttered the captain of the eleven. jetson had been the tackle opposed to dave. just now jetson was nursing a bump to his vanity. "how on earth did i ever happen to let darrin through?" jetson demanded of himself. "i won't do it again, anyway. if i can only make darrin look small, i may get his place on the navy eleven. darrin is a good fellow, but i've got to make the team, confound him!" the kick for goal failed. then the navy took the ball and promptly enough the rustlers came back with it, jetson carrying. dave and dan met the ball-carrier. the rustlers' support failed, and jetson went down with the ball. nor could the second team advance the ball, so it presently came to the navy men again. "i want you to put it through again like a cannon-ball, darrin," midshipman hepson whispered as they passed. so the quarter-backs called for a repetition of the play, giving different signals. dave received the ball with a rush of his old-time fervor and confidence. dan started behind him as full of fire as ever. in a fraction of a second the impact of the two opposing lines came. jetson went down, one of his legs flying between darrin's in such a way as to constitute a foul. dave darrin went down on top of the ball. half a dozen players sprawled over him. the referee's whistle blew. "jetson, that was a mean, deliberate trip," remarked darrin, as he sprang to his feet. he spoke coolly, with a warning flash in his eyes. "not on my part," retorted jetson. "you thrust your leg between mine as you went down." coach signed to referee not to renew the game for the moment. then lieutenant-commander havens and the two team captains crowded close. "i didn't do it deliberately, as you charged," retorted jetson, hot with anger. "you deny it?" insisted dave. "i do." "on your word as a gentleman you did not intend, a foul trip?" demanded midshipman darrin. "i have already answered you." "answer me on your word as a gentleman." "i don't have to." "very good, then," retorted dave, turning away with a meaning smile. "hold on. i pledge you my word as a gentleman that i did not intend to make a foul trip," said jetson, swiftly realizing the error of his refusal. in the meantime lieutenant-commander havens had turned to motley, of the first class, who was serving as referee. "mr. motley," demanded coach, "did you see just what happened?" "yes, sir." "do you call it a foul trip?" "i do, sir. if i were referee in a regular game, i would penalize the team and order the player from the field." "mr. jetson--" began the coach, but, swift as a flash dave darrin interposed, though respectfully, saluting at the same time. "will you pardon me, sir. mr. jetson has given me his word that he did not intend a foul trip. i accept his word without reservation." "very good, then," nodded coach. "but mr. jetson, you will do well to be careful in the future, and avoid even the appearance of evil." "yes, sir; very good, sir," answered jetson, looking decidedly sheepish. in giving his word jetson had told the truth, or had intended to. the exact truth was that he really did not realize what he had done until it was too late to avoid the foul. he had meant to stop darrin, somehow. "pull that scrimmage off again," directed coach havens dryly. the ball was placed, the whistle sounded, and again dave received the ball and tried to break through. with the rustlers prepared for the move, it was blocked and the ball was "down." jetson felt his face burning. he knew, well enough, that many of the players regarded him with suspicion. "i suppose that suspicion will stick, and my chances of making the navy eleven are now scantier than ever," muttered the unfortunate midshipman to himself. the whistle blew before any further advantage had been gained. coach and midshipman hepson had gained considerable insight into the work of the team. "mr. hepson," said coach aside, in the interval that followed, "you have done well, i think, to place two such men as darrin and dalzell on the provisional team." "i am glad you think so, sir," replied the navy football captain, "for that is the way it strikes me." "if you keep them at the left flank you'll have something like dynamite there," smiled coach. "mr. darrin goes through like a cannon-ball, and dalzell is always just where darrin needs him." "these men have played together before, and they're used to team work, sir," said midshipman hepson. "so? where did they play before coming to annapolis?" "on what was, in their day, one of the best high school eleven's going, sir." "oho! do you know, mr. hepson, they play more like college men than anything else. it must have been a bully high school team that graduated them." "from the little that i've heard, sir, that high school team was a great one." coach and captain walked back to the scene. "you will now play another ten-minute period," directed mr. havens. "jetson will withdraw from the second eleven during the next period and doyle will take his place." "so that's what coach and team captain were hatching up?" thought midshipman jetson. "that gives me a black eye, and my chances of making the navy eleven are now worse than ever. probably i won't even make sub." as navy and rustlers again collided in the fray, jetson watched dave's work narrowly, furiously. "darrin always was a smooth one," jetson declared angrily to himself. "and now, just because he raised a 'holler', my football prospects are set back for this year. probably i can't make the eleven next year, either. and it's all darrin's fault!" in forming the second half the coach called: "mr. jetson will resume his place as right tackle on the second eleven." "jetson's not here, sir," called a midshipman. "where is he?" asked coach havens. "i think he went off the field, sir, to un-tog." "he should not have left the field without permission," remarked the coach coldly. jetson heard of the remark that evening, and his anger against dave darrin increased. chapter vii "did jetson do it?" no sooner had release from studies sounded through big and handsome bancroft hall, than there came a tap at dave darrin's door. "come in," called dave. hepson came in first, followed by a score of other midshipmen. "say, i didn't hear assembly blow lately," remarked dan dalzell, closing a new text-book and looking up with a smile of welcome. "are we intruding--so many of us," inquired hepson, halting. "not on me, anyway," answered dave pleasantly. "as for danny boy, don't mind the little chap. he really believes that study release sounds before supper-call. come right in, all of you fellows. dan barks, but won't bite." "and take seats, all of you, do," urged dan, with unnecessary hospitality. "after the table and the chairs are used up, we'll provide tacks for the rest." "does this little boy ever have a serious streak?" asked one of the callers, regarding dan with feigned interest. "yes; whenever he finds himself marked down to 2.1 in more than three studies," laughed dave. "oh, that's no laughing matter," grimaced another of the visiting midshipmen. "i don't suppose you can guess what we came to talk about?" went on midshipman hepson. "at a wild guess it might be football," hazarded darrin. "wonderful! marvelous!" gasped another visitor. "darry, we've come in to tell you that we believe that you and your erratic roommate are going to save a desperate situation for us," resumed the captain of the navy team. "not that we were destitute of good players before. but we lacked enough of different kinds to make a strong, all-around eleven. now we've a team that we're not afraid, after more work, to put up against anything that the army can show us." "now, i wouldn't be too sure," urged dave. "confidence is all right, but don't let it rob us of a jot of practice and work." "are you afraid of the army, darry?" demanded hepson. "i'm not going to be too cock-sure, if the story is true that prescott and holmes are out with the army team this year." "are they such great players!" demanded hepson. "they are," dave responded solemnly, "or were. i know something about that pair, since i've played on the same eleven with prescott and holmes." "are they better than you two, darry?" hepson demanded. "yes," answered dave unhesitatingly. "is that honesty or extreme modesty?" "extreme mod--" broke in dan dalzell, but he closed his mouth with a snap and ducked as he saw three of the visitors making for him. "it's hard to believe," muttered hepson, though he spoke uneasily. "why do you rank prescott and holmes so high, darry?" "well, for one reason, dick prescott taught dalzell and myself the game. anything that we know about the game we learned in the team that prescott captained." "still, it's hard to believe," spoke up midshipman joyce. "darrin, we look upon you as the best thing that ever happened to the navy end of the gridiron." "i don't know that i care about being 'kidded,'" responded dave seriously. "but we honestly do," contended the same speaker, "and we don't like to have you tell us that prescott is a better man." "but i believe he is." "are you afraid of him?" "i'm not afraid of any one on the gridiron," darrin retorted bluntly. "i'll work hard to beat any man that i have to go up against, and if work, this season, will do it, i'll beat dick prescott out!" "good! that's the way we like to hear you talk," glowed hepson. "and i'll bottle up holmes and put the stopper in," promised dan with solemn modesty. again two of the men made a rush for him to quiet him. "it may be only a rumor that prescott and holmes are on the army eleven," spoke up another midshipman. "no," objected still another, "i had a letter, this afternoon, from a cousin who has been up to west point and has seen the army crowd at work. the army is rejoicing over prescott and holmes as a pair of precious finds, and they're both nailed to the colors for this season." "then we're going to have a tough time in our game with the army," darrin declared thoughtfully. "and the army will beat more college teams this year than usual." "we won't die until the army shoots, anyway," promised hepson. "and now, darry, there's another question we want to put to you, and we want an out-and-out answer. do you believe that jetson really meant to trip you this afternoon?" "you heard his denial," dave rejoined. "yes." "well, jetson is a midshipman and a gentleman. there has never been any question here about his honor," darrin replied. "i accepted his denial of intention at the time, and i still accept it." "it's queer, then, how jetson came to give you such a nasty trip," observed another caller. "i'll tell you what i think really must have happened," dave continued frankly. "i think jet was crazy to stop me. it was on his mind, and he was determined to do it. he tripped me, of course, but i think he really acted on an unconscious impulse and without intention. so, at that rate, the trip was not really intended, since he had not deliberately planned it." "would you be willing to play on the same team with him, darry?" pursued midshipman hepson. "yes, or with any other man in the brigade. i don't suspect any man here at the naval academy of anything intentionally and deliberately dishonorable." "good, darry!" cried several midshipmen. for a few minutes the talk grew fast and furious. then some one looked at his watch and there was a prompt flight of visitors. ten minutes later taps sounded and a master switch turned off the lights in midshipmen's quarters, with nearly eight hundred young men in their beds and already dropping asleep. at eight the next morning the many sections marched off to recitations and for hours the grind of the day was on. at the naval academy, as at west point, not even football is allowed to interfere in the least with studies or recitations. no football player is permitted to go into section room, after extra practice in the field, and announce himself unprepared to recite. only midshipmen of a good grade of scholarship are permitted to join or remain in the football squad. late in the afternoon, when recreation time came, all was speedily changed. every member of the squad hastily reported in togs. scores of midshipmen not of the squad hastened over to see the practice work. the scores were presently increased to hundreds. fifty or more naval officers detailed at the yard were scattered along the side lines. many of the wives and daughters of officers stationed at annapolis turned out to view the work. other young ladies came from annapolis. there was also a big delegation of "st. johnnies," as the gray-clad young men from st. john's college are called. the news had evidently traveled far that the navy had two new men on the team who were expected to prove "wonders." "a big part of this crowd is out to see you and danny boy," hepson remarked to darrin. "haven't they anything better to do with their time, then?" laughed dave. "great scott, man! every one of the spectators wants to see the navy beat the army this year." "but these spectators are a heap cheered up by what they've heard about you and dalzell." dave, however, went about his work all but unconsciously. never much of an egotist, he declined to believe himself the star man of the navy eleven. when coach havens called off the two teams that were to play that day, jetson observed that he was not called for either. "it looks as though darrin has queered me," muttered that midshipman gloomily to himself. "i didn't think darrin was quite as bad as that." after the practice game had started, and dave had put through the most brilliant play that he had yet exhibited, the air rang with his name from hundreds of throats. "that's the way!" grumbled jetson. "it's all darrin now! these idiots will forget that i was ever at annapolis." jetson sulked about. after the rebuke he had received the day before from the head coach, he did not dare to carry his sulk so far as to go and un-tog without leave. towards the end of the first half of the practice game, a man on the second team was hurt enough to be retired, and joyce was called. "they might have given me a chance," quivered jetson sulkily. "i'm a lot better player than the fool coach imagines. but, anyway, i suppose darrin has turned the coach and hepson against me. i owe darrin for that one!" five minutes later another player of the second eleven was retired with an injured wrist. "howard!" called the coach briskly. "excused for to-day, sir," reported another player. "any one but me!" growled jetson. "jetson!" sounded the head coach's heavy voice. midshipman jetson started. his face flushed. then, for an instant, a sulky impulse seized him to reply that he did not feel up to form to-day. but the midshipman smothered that desire and started forward. "here, sir," he reported. "take right guard on second," directed coach havens. "very good, sir." the game was resumed. jetson, however, had a face full of sulkiness. as he joined the line-up his eyes rested on dave darrin. "i wonder if jetson means me any harm?" flashed through dave's mind. in an instant, however, he dismissed the suspicion. "jetson is a midshipman, a gentleman and a man of honor," thought darrin generously. the whistle sounded, the ball was snapped back and passed, darrin received it and dashed forward to carry it past the opponents. in a twinkling there was a staggering crash. dave was down with the ball, with men of two teams piled above him. at the sound of the referee's whistle the mass disentangled itself. dave and jetson were at the bottom of the heap. jetson was the last man up, but dave still lay there. "surgeon here?" called the coach's steady voice, devoid of excitement. but there was anxiety enough when it was seen that midshipman darrin still lay face downward. "has darrin been hurt--our darrin--the great darrin?" flew from tongue to tongue. "did jetson do it?" was another question that was instantly asked. chapter viii dan tries hard to keep cool a surgeon and a hospital man were quickly on the spot, the others, anxious as they were, drawing back considerately to give the men of medicine room in which to work. as dave darrin was gently turned over on his back it was seen that damn's face was a mass of blood. "jetson's work," grunted two or three of the players. "he did it on purpose!" "if he didn't, then the fellow is too clumsy to be trusted on the gridiron, anyway." "we must chase jetson away from the squad." "silence!" remarked head coach havens, very simply, though in a tone which meant that obedience must follow. jetson, however, was not ignorant of the comments that were passing. his dark face flushed hotly with anger. "they'll blame anything on me, if i'm within a mile of the field," he told himself sullenly. "is mr. darrin badly injured, doctor!" inquired lieutenant-commander havens of the naval surgeon. "i think not, sir, beyond a possibly nasty mark on the face," replied the surgeon, as he examined and directed the hospital men. "mr. darrin is merely stunned, from too hard an impact of some sort. he'll soon have his eyes open--there they come now." as if to back up the surgeon, dave opened his eyes, staring curiously at the faces within his range of vision. "what's all this fuss about?" dave asked quietly. "there isn't any fuss, mr. darrin," replied the surgeon. "you were stunned by the force of that scrimmage, and there's some blood on your face." "let me wipe it off then, please, sir?" dave begged. "i want to get back in the game." "you won't play again, mr. darrin," replied the surgeon. "not play this season?" demanded dave in anguished amazement. "please don't joke with me, sir." "oh, you'll play, after a few days," replied the surgeon, wetting a piece of gauze from the contents of a bottle that he had taken from his bag. with the gauze he wiped the blood away from darrin's cheek, revealing a surface cut of more width than depth. then a light bandage was put on over the cut. "now, i guess you can rise all right, mr. darrin. this hospital man will go over to hospital with you." "i'm not ordered to stay there, i hope, sir?" murmured dave anxiously. "for two or three days, at any rate--yes," replied the naval surgeon. "not because you're going to be weak, but because we've got to have you under our eyes all the time if your face is to heal without a bad scar." midshipman darrin brought his hand up in salute to the surgeon, and again to lieutenant-commander havens. "darrin laid up for a few days!" growled captain hepson, of the navy team, just after dave had started. "now, when every day's work counts!" then wheeling suddenly: "how did darrin come to get cut in that fashion, anyway! mr. jetson, do you know anything about it?" "what do you mean, sir?" demanded jetson, bridling. "do you insinuate that i tried to put a scar on mr. darrin's face?" "i asked you what you knew about the accident--if it were an accident?" hepson pursued coldly. "your 'if,' sir, is insulting!" then there came to the spot a presence that could not be treated with anger. lieutenant-commander havens was determined to know the truth. "mr. jetson, had you anything in your possession, or did you wear anything, that could cut mr. damn's face like that?" demanded the head coach. "nothing, sir, unless the sole of one of my shoes was responsible," returned jetson, barely concealing his anger under a mask of respect to an officer of the navy. "let me see your shoes; sit down on the ground first, mr. jetson." the midshipman obeyed, though with no very good grace, and held up his right shoe for the inspection of the head coach. "now the other shoe, mr. jetson. hm! yes; along the inner sole of this shoe there are signs of what looks very much like blood. see here, mr. hepson." "yes, sir; most certainly this is a streak of blood rubbed into the leather along this rather sharp edge of the sole." "may i suggest, mr. havens," hinted jetson, "that something else may have scratched mr. darrin's face, and that the blood trickled to my shoe? i was under mr. darrin, somewhat, sir, in the scrimmage when the bunch went down." there was really nothing that could be proved, in any case, so the head coach could only say very quietly: "let the practice go on, mr. hepson. put mr. wardell temporarily in mr. darrin's place on the line." there was one in the group who had not said a word so far. but he had been looking on, his keen eyes studying jetson's face. that looker-on was midshipman dan dalzell, who, as the reader knows, sometimes displayed a good deal of temper. "jetson," muttered dan, as the other midshipman came over by him, "i shall need a little talk with you at the early convenience of us both." "whenever you like," retorted midshipman jetson, flashing back a look of defiance. then the game went on. by supper time the men of the brigade knew that darrin was getting along comfortably; that he was in no pain and that he was in hospital only in the hope that he might be saved the annoyance of wearing a disfiguring scar on his face throughout all his life. "i'm afraid that some of the fellows think i purposely cut darrin up in that fashion," remarked jetson to his tablemates during the evening meal. "don't you know that you didn't?" inquired one of the midshipmen laconically. none of the other men at table took heed of jetson's words. at some of the other tables equal silence did not prevail. midshipmen who did not accuse or suspect jetson of intentional wickedness expressed the opinion that he was, at all events, careless and not a valuable member of the football squad. jetson himself was wholly aware that he was more or less suspected in the minds of many, and the knowledge made him savage. during the few minutes recreation that followed the evening meal, dan dalzell approached the sullen one, who was now standing quite alone. "mr. jetson, i shall be glad to have a talk with you," announced dan. "will you come to my room, or shall i go to yours?" "lead the way to your room, sir," replied jetson stiffly. dan did so, and behind the door the two midshipmen faced each other. "well, sir!" demanded the visitor. "mr. jetson, both times that you have played against darrin something has happened to him." "don't insinuate, mr. dalzell. if you anything to say, speak out plainly, sir." "i hardly know what to say," midshipman dan confessed. "as a midshipman, your honor should be above question." "do you wish to remark that it isn't?" "why, i don't know," dan answered frankly. "it seems a fearful thing to say, or even to think, about a midshipman." "mr. dalzell, either i did, or i didn't, intentionally injure mr. darrin. yon must think one thing or the other. if you suspect that i did the thing intentionally, then why beat about the bush?" "i don't want to beat about the bush, and, on the other hand, i don't want to do you any injustice, mr. jetson, i thought perhaps you would be willing to help me out by proffering your midshipman's word of honor--" "and i," rejoined jetson in cold anger, "consider it insulting, sir, that i should be asked to pledge my word of honor." "that is an extreme position to take," protested dan. "no good man, when appearances are against him, should be afraid to offer his word of honor." "suppose," sneered jetson, in suppressed fury, "i should go to the other extreme, and say that i did it on purpose?" "then i'd knock you down, like a dog," dan answered directly and simply, "and next call on the men here to drive you forth from the brigade." "if you think you could knock me down," quivered midshipman jetson, "you'd better go ahead and find out whether your guess is correct. dalzell, you've been highly insulting, and i don't mind declaring that a fight with you would suit me, at present, better than anything that i can think of." "then you have your recourse, in a challenge," dan hinted promptly. "what's the need of a challenge, seconds--or of anything but fists? i don't need them." "the brigade claims some supervision over fights between the men here," dan replied. "i intend to demand that the class take up, as a class matter, the mishap to darrin this afternoon." "you--you hound!" panted jetson, in a sudden flare-up of anger. "careful!" warned dalzell, clenching his fists and facing his man squarely. with a snort of rage jetson launched himself forward, aiming two blows at dan. dan parried the blows coolly, but his eyes flashed. he had not lost control of himself, but he was warming up to the instinct of fighting when no other course seemed open. chapter ix a narrow squeak with the o.c. jetson's next blow grazed midshipman dalzell's chin. the follow-up blow landed on dan's left ear. now dalzell "sailed in" in earnest. he attacked forcefully and swiftly. jetson was forced to give ground. dan pursued him around the room. being no coward, jetson stood well up to the work, driving in for himself at least two out of every five blows that were landed. rap-tap-tap! sounded on the door, but neither combatant heard. smash! dan's forceful right landed on jetson's neck, sending that midshipman to the floor, whereupon dalzell sprang back three paces. "take your time getting on to your feet," called dan in a low voice. "i don't want any time," snapped jetson, leaping to his feet. the words of both speakers were heard at the door, and the visitor who had knocked now promptly entered. fortunate it was for the combatants facing each other that the intruder was not one of the discipline officers. had it been, both midshipmen would have been reported at once under charges that would have borne serious results. instead, it was farley who entered, followed by page, hepson and joyce. "wow!" uttered midshipman farley in a low voice. then: "stop this, fellows!" at the order, which dan knew to be intended for his own good, the latter turned away, letting his hands fall. jetson, on the point of a rush, realized that he had better desist. "joyce, you stand outside," ordered farley in a low voice. "stand right at the door. if you see the o.c. (officer in charge) turning into this corridor, you rap as hard as you can on the door, and we'll understand." midshipman joyce wanted most badly to be a spectator to what was likely to happen on the inner side of the door, but he had the good sense to realize that some one must do guard duty, so he stepped outside, closing the door after him. "now, gentlemen, what's this all about?" demanded hepson in a low, smooth voice. "it means," cried jetson passionately, "that i'm not going to stand any more of this petty persecution. everyone has been trying to pretend that he believes i've been trying to do darrin up so that he can't play on the navy football team. it's all just a mean scheme to keep me from making the navy eleven." "there's no such scheme afloat, or i'd know about it," returned hepson coolly. "fact is, there isn't any intention whatever of playing you on the navy team." "ah, you admit it!" snapped midshipman jetson, first turning white, after which his face showed a deep crimson of humiliation. "you've already done the dirty work." "fellow, stop this talk!" commanded hepson, almost at a white heat of resentment, "among midshipmen and gentlemen there can be no thought of what you term 'dirty work.' the fact that you won't play with us is due to your uncontrollable temper. a fellow who can't control his nerves and temper isn't fitted to play football--a game that requires cool judgment at every moment of the game." "then, while you're telling me what to stop, you just stop addressing me as 'fellow,'" cried jetson, his lip quivering with rage. "i'll admit that was hasty on my part," agreed midshipman hepson, "but it seemed necessary to use some word to bring you to your senses. and now, this fight, which would get you both into serious trouble if a discipline officer came upon the scene, must cease." "i'm afraid it can't," broke in midshipman dalzell with quiet dignity. "at least, i won't agree to stopping until mr. jetson admits himself satisfied. it was he who started the fight, and only his word can close it. but we don't want you other fellows pulled into this trouble as spectators, so we'll wait until you all withdraw." "if you're determined to fight," rejoined hepson, who was the only first classman present, "then we don't want to stop the fight. we'll stay and see it pulled off fairly. but, dalzell, do you really want to fight?" "i didn't want to," dan answered. "but, now that mr. jetson has started it, it must go on until he's satisfied. up with your hands, sir, and when you start in, i'll answer you." the visitors skipped back, in order to leave the combatants plenty of room for footwork. since jetson had heard definite announcement of the fact that he could not hope to be called to the navy eleven, his inward flame of passion had burned up high. he was now ready to fight with all the force that there was in him. in the first few seconds his assault was so resolute that dalzell was forced to give ground. as he slowly retreated and shifted, jetson drove in more impetuously than ever. midshipman dan found himself at last in a position of advantage. "now, hammer him, danny boy!" advised; farley, breathing deeply. "silence among the spectators," warned hepson in a low, stern voice. "absolutely fair play, gentlemen, to both contestants!" again the showering exchange of blows. jetson, after his late rapid expenditure of force and nerve-energy, was now just the least bit confused. dan landed on one ear, and then against his enemy's chin. both were hard, dazing blows, though neither left a mark. then an uppercut and dalzell landed on jetson's jugular. with, a gasp the fellow went down to the floor. "one, two, three, four--" hepson began counting. "don't bother with the count," begged dalzell "i'll give him all the time he wants to get to his feet." rap-tap-tap-tap! came a banging summons on the door, followed by midshipman joyce's voice demanding: "are you in, danny boy?" swift as a flash hepson and farley leaped forward, fairly snatching jetson, who was still half dazed, to his feet. in the same instant page called out cheerily: "come in under full steam, whatever craft is outside!" "brace up? jetson! don't look silly or dazed,", warned hepson, in a stern whisper. "that rap was the signal of the approach of the o.c." farley was industriously brushing the signs of dust from jetson's uniform. "i tell you, fellows," boomed hepson's tranquil, earnest voice, "we've got to hustle every minute of practice time. nothing else will give us a chance to win." "we haven't even a chance if darry isn't soon back on the gridiron," argued farley. "oh, he'll be all right soon," broke in dan dalzell eagerly. joyce had already stepped into the room, leaving the door open. now, as though by instinct, the midshipmen seemed aware that the o.c., who to-day happened to be lieutenant cotton, u.s.n., was standing in front of the doorway gazing in. instantly the middies came to the position of attention, looking straight ahead of them. "good evening, gentlemen," greeted the o.c. "is anything unusual going on?" "we have been discussing the football situation, sir," announced midshipman hepson quite truthfully. had hepson been asked if there had recently been a fight in progress he would have answered truthfully, but he did not feel called upon to volunteer damaging information. "i thought i heard sounds as of some disturbance," remarked the o.c., looking at the young men rather sharply. "that is to say, i was under the impression that there had been some unusual agility in operation. i heard something that sounded like scuffling." "yes, sir," replied mr. hepson; "i think it very likely. the men on this deck, sir, can't think of anything in these days but line-ups and scrimmage tactics." "it occurred to me," went on the o.c., "that there was some sound of scuffling in this room." "there was, sir," admitted midshipman hepson candidly. "there was a species of scrimmage." "was it in connection with football?" inquired lieutenant cotton. "yes, sir,"--which answer, again, was wholly truthful. "ah, i thought i heard something like a scrimmage in the room," assented lieutenant cotton. "yet remember, gentlemen, that quarters is not the place for football practice." "very good, sir; thank you, sir," replied the unmovable hepson. "and remember that it is now very close to the time for study call," continued the o.c. "yes, sir; thank you, sir. we are just parting to our various quarters, sir." "good evening, gentlemen." "good evening, sir." lieutenant cotton passed on down the corridor, and the midshipmen eased themselves from the rigid position of attention. "that was a narrow squeak," grunted hepson. "now, jetson, get out ahead." "i'll renew this argument at another time," retorted jetson slowly, as he crossed the floor. "you don't need to, sir," midshipman hepson advised him. "every gentleman here will agree with me that mr. dalzell had the best of the affair right up to the end. nor is mr. dalzell under any obligation whatever to afford you another meeting on the score of to-night's disagreement." "we'll see about that," snapped jetson, as he passed through the doorway. at that instant the study call sounded. the others hastened away to their quarters. dan dalzell stepped over to the handbowl, washing his hands, after which he went to his study-table and began to arrange his books. "it's kind of lonely to sit here without old darry," sighed dan dismally. "i hope he'll be here with me to-morrow evening. no; i don't either, though. i want him to stay over in hospital until there's no chance whatever that he'll have to wear an ugly scar through life." it was three evenings later when midshipman david darrin returned to his own quarters in bancroft hall. by this time the surface wound on his face was healing nicely, and with ordinary care he would soon be without sign of scar. "pills (the surgeon) told me that i'll have to be careful and not let anything bump this face for days to come," remarked dave, pointing to the strip of adhesive plaster that neatly covered his injury. "well, you don't need to bump anything," replied dan quietly. "hepson wants you on the gridiron the worst way, but he has told me that he won't even allow you to get into togs until pills has certified that you're fit to play." "it's tough," sighed dave, then quietly began his studies. it is a rare proceeding to send a midshipman to coventry; a step that is never taken save for the gravest reasons. dan, having fought, did not feel it necessary to bring jetson's case before a class meeting, and jetson escaped coventry. he was not cut, yet he soon discovered that the average classmate paid no more heed to him than appeared to be necessary for courtesy's sake. after another week "pills" consented to dave darrin's going out for regular gridiron practice. dave needed the work badly, for the navy team was now on the eve of the first game of the season. jetson, with no hope now of making the eleven this year, avoided the field for a few days. the first game of the season took place on a saturday afternoon. the opponent was hanniston college. ordinarily, in the past, hanniston had been an easy enough opponent, though there had been years in which hanniston had carried the score away from the field. "how many of the regular team do you want to throw into the game against hanniston, mr. hepson?" inquired lieutenant-commander havens the night before the game. "every one of them, sir," hepson answered the head coach. "until we get into a real game, we can't be sure that we've the strongest eleven. to-morrow's game will show us if we have made any mistakes in our selections." even though hanniston was considered one of the lesser opponents, every man in the brigade speculated with great interest, that night, on the probable outcome of the morrow. "darrin will have a good chance to prove himself, a dub to-morrow," thought midshipman jetson darkly. "i hate to wish against the navy, but i'll cheer if darrin, individually, ties himself up in foozle knots!" chapter x the gridiron start on the day of the game the midshipmen talked eagerly, and mostly of football, through dinner in the great messhall of the brigade. "did any one see the hanniston infants arrive?" demanded page. "infants, eh!" called joyce from the next table. "that shows you didn't see the visiting eleven." "why? are they of fair size?" asked farley. "it took two 'buses to bring the regular eleven, besides the subs and all the howlers," retorted joyce. "and the regular eleven, i am reliably informed, tip the scales at four tons." "oh, come, now, joyce, shave off a ton or two," protested farley. "i won't take off more than fifty pounds, sir," retorted joyce with mock stubbornness. "say! the hanniston fellows are enormous." "then they've run all to bones and haven't any brains," grinned dan. "after all, we don't mind mere bulk, for intelligence wins most of the games on the gridiron." "as to their intelligence, i can't say," admitted joyce. "at any rate, from the glimpse that i got of the hans, i should say that they average two years older than our men." "let's throw up the sponge, then," proposed dalzell demurely. "if we can't beat the visitors what's the use of playing them? it isn't even necessary to get into togs. we can send a note to the referee, and he can award the game to hanniston." "fine!" broke in hepson scornfully. "however, i guess we aren't going to have any cinch to-day," joined in midshipman waite, from another table. "i have word from outside, by the way." "what word?" "well, the hanniston fellows have brought over some money with which to back up the howls they're making for their team. they're offering odds of ten to six that hanniston wins." "they stand to lose a lot of money," grinned hepson. "but here's the funny part of it," continued waite. "you know, when the townspeople in annapolis think they have a really good thing on us, they cover the money of visitors in any wagers on the games." "then here's hoping that the annapolis townspeople win a lot to-day," laughed midshipman hepson. "yes, but," returned waite, "what i hear from town is that the annapolis townspeople have been driven to cover; that they aren't taking up the offers of the visiting hanniston boys." "too bad!" sighed dave darrin. "and annapolis needs the money so badly, too." "are we going to win?" asked waite bluntly. "too early to tell you," replied hepson coolly. "ask me at supper to-night. but the townies won't wager any money on us this year, eh?" "the annapolis people have put up some, but not much," replied waite. "we're going to win, just the same," announced dan dalzell. "sure?" questioned several voices. "oh, yes! it's all settled now," laughed midshipman waite. "i've been waiting for danny boy to tell us. now, we know--we've heard from the hot-air meter." there was a laugh in which dan didn't join readily, though his face reddened considerably. midshipman dalzell was one of those who always believed that the navy must win, just because it was the navy. some of the other midshipmen didn't go quite as far as that in their confidence. "better not call danny boy names," advised dave darrin gravely. "he might be sulking at just the time when we need him this afternoon." "that would be unmilitary," retorted mr. waite. "oh, no," said dave lightly. "even as good a soldier as achilles sulked in his tent, you know." "achilles? what class was he in, then?" demanded waite. "i don't remember the name." "he was in a class of his own, at the siege of troy," volunteered farley. "troy, n.y.?" inquired waite. "if you keep on, waite," muttered farley, "someone will have to give you an ancient history book at christmas. you don't seem well posted on greek tales." "don't have to be, thank goodness," returned waite, helping himself to another piece of beef. "greek isn't on the list here." there was abundant time for rest before the game. the players and subs, for the navy team, however, were early at dressing quarters. jetson hadn't been called as one of the subs., so he walked sulkily and alone through the grounds while most of the midshipmen strolled, about in groups. half an hour before the time for the game the spectators' seats held fair-sized crowds. at that time the naval academy band began to play, just to keep the waiting ones more patient. ten minutes later the hanniston players came on to the field at a slow trot. instantly the hanniston howlers in the audience began to whoop up the noise. the midshipmen joined in cheers, and then the band took up the music again. at first sight of the visitors, some of the navy people began to have their doubts about victory. the hannistons surely were "bulky." in size and age, the visitors were as formidable as any of the college elevens. many of the midshipmen, too, recalled what they had heard waite say at table. it seemed little wonder that the popular odds were against the middies. but the band, having played its welcome to the hannistons, who were now chasing a ball over the field in practice, almost immediately switched off into the strains of "see, the conquering hero comes!" all doubts were dispelled for the moment at least, as all the navy people present let loose a tremendous cheer in which the midshipmen spectators led, for now captain hepson was leading his own men on to the field, the hope of the navy that day. "hepson! hepson!" went up rousingly from the brigade. "darrin! darrin!" howled others. "dalzell!" "darrin! darrin!" "hepson must enjoy hearing more noise for darrin than for himself," reflected jetson moodily. but hepson, big in body, heart and mind, was intent only on victory. it did not even occur to the captain of the navy eleven that darrin was getting more of a reception than himself. hepson was simply and heartily glad to find himself supported by two such promising gridiron men as darrin and dalzell. "remember, darry, how much we're backing on you to-day," muttered hepson, after another round of yells for dave had been given. "i can't do everything, and perhaps not much," smiled dave. "but i'll do my level best to do all that you call upon me for at my own little spot in the line." a din of hanniston yells was now smiting the air. uncle sam's midshipmen waited with patience and courtesy, but when their turn came they volleyed forth four times as much as the visiting howlers could supply. "i hope darry is in great form to-day," murmured the midshipman seated next to jetson. "he looks to be in as good shape as ever doesn't he?" asked jetson sullenly. "oh, i forgot," exclaimed the other. "you don't like darry any too well." "i've nothing against him that would make me want to see him in bad form," grumbled jetson. "i'm a navy man and i don't want to see any but navy victories." the toss had just been made, the visitors winning the kick-off. at a sign from a navy officer in the field the leader silenced his band and a hush fell over the gridiron and the seats of the onlookers. chapter xi the band couldn't make itself heard within five minutes the hanniston players had established the fact that they were not only bulky, but quick and brainy. in fact, though the navy promptly blocked the ball and got it, the middies were unable to make headway against the college men. then hanniston took the ball, fighting slowly but steadily toward the navy goal line. "i don't see darrin making any wonderful plays," thought jetson to himself. he was gloomy over seeing the navy outplayed, but secretly glad that the spectators had as yet found no occasion to shout themselves hoarse over midshipman dave's work. outside of the brigade the other spectators in the navy seats felt themselves tinder a cloud of increasing gloom. "from all the talk i had expected more of mr. darrin," remarked an officer's wife-to her husband. "darrin has a fearful hanniston line against him," replied the officer. "captain hepson realizes that, too, and he isn't pushing darrin as hard as you might wish to see." "we're going to be beaten, aren't we?" asked another navy onlooker. it was as yet too early to predict safely, though all the appearances were that the visitors would do whatever scoring was to be done to-day. yet, even when they felt themselves outclassed, the middies hung to their opponents with dogged perseverance. it took nearly all of the first half for the hannistons to place the navy goal in final, desperate danger. then, of a sudden, while the hannistons worked within a dozen yards of the navy goal line, the college boys made a new attack, the strongest they had yet shown. there was a bumping crash as the lines came together, at the navy's right. farley and page were swept clear off their feet and the assailants swept onward. another clever attack, backed by a ruse, and one of the college boys started on a dead run with the ball. in vain the navy's backs tried to stop him. the hanniston boys successfully interfered for their runner, and the ball was touched down behind the goal line. gone were the cheers that had been ascending from the brigade. all the navy crowd gasped in dismay. the ball was carried back, kicked, and hanniston had scored six points. "ha, ha, ha! ha, ha, ha, ha--hanniston! wow!" went up derisively from the visiting howlers. "hepson! hepson! pull us out!" came the appeal. "darry! darry! rush it!" as the two elevens were lining up for another start the time-keeper's whistle sounded the end of the first half of the game. gloomy, indeed, were those who had hoped to see the navy win. there were no cheers, save from the visitor-howlers. the best that the leader of the band could do, was to swing his baton and start in the strains of "'twas never thus in olden times." "what do you make of the enemy, hepson?" inquired joyce, as the middies rested at the side lines. "we haven't made anything of them yet, but we've got to make wrecks of 'em before the last half is over," grunted the captain of the navy. "how are we going to do it?" asked another player. "by just hanging at them with sheer grit," replied the captain gravely. "fellows, they've beaten us so far, but they haven't worn us out any. big fellows as the hannistons are, they may not have the endurance to hang to us through all of the coming half." "that makes me remember a song i heard when on leave this year," grinned page. "a part of it runs: 'said the ant to the elephant, "who are ye shoving? there's one wide river to cross!"' "and we're the elephants?" inquired farley in mock innocence. "do we look it?" demanded page in disgust. "remember, fellows," warned hepson, as the signal summoned both teams back to the field, "many a hopeless game has been won in the last five minutes. but don't wait. hammer the college boys from the start!" "dalzell and i can stand hard work and pounding whenever you get ready to put it on us," dave announced to hepson. "don't try to spare us any. both of us would sooner be carried away on stretchers than see the navy lose its first game to a minor college." the game was resumed. for ten minutes the navy played mainly on the defensive. indeed, to the spectators it seemed all that the middies could do against such big fellows as the visitors. just after that, however, hepson passed the silent signal, and then the midshipmen hurled themselves into the fray to test out all the endurance that the hanniston players might possess. many a college boy on the opposing line wondered where these smaller men in the navy togs had obtained all the fight that they now showed. the big fellows didn't seem able to stand it long. the navy had the ball, and now slowly fought down toward the college goal. onlookers in the navy seats began to stand up, to watch breathlessly, and be ever ready to cheer. "hurl little darry in!" yelled someone hoarsely in a momentary lull in the noise. but hepson, watching every chance with tigerish eyes, was yet cool-headed, as a football general should be. twice he used darrin to advance the ball, and each time dave gained a few yards. the third time, wearied by pounding his head against a human stone wall, dave failed to gain more than half a yard. watchful hepson sent the ball, after the next snap-back, over to the navy's right. the time of the second half was slipping away, and it now looked as though the middies might gradually have won by the steady, bull-dog quality of their tactics. nearer and nearer to the college goal line the team of smaller men fought the pigskin, until at last they had it within six yards of the hanniston fortress. but at this point the visitors stayed further progress long enough to have the pigskin ovoid come to them by a block. the situation was desperate. hanniston could not get the ball away from its present locality, and in dread the college captain sent the ball back of his own line to a safety. this counted two for annapolis, but it also set the ball back twenty-five yards from the college line. "block! block! block--if you can't fight the ball back to the navy goal," was the word that captain hart, of the college team, sent along his own line. "don't be too reckless. just fight to keep the navy from scoring." "hepson! hepson!" came, appealingly, from the seats, as the two elevens lined up at the twenty-five-yard line. "darry! o darry!" grim determination written on their faces, eleven middies awaited the signal, then hurled themselves forward like tigers. the ball came to dave, who started with it. dan dalzell, watching his chum with cat-like eyes, followed and made the best interference that he had offered that day. five and a half yards won! as center bent for the snap back, a "fake" signal was called by the navy quarter-back. just as the ball started, the navy players back of the line started toward the right the hanniston men, tired now, but full of grit as ever, moved to block. the navy gained a second or two, for the pass was really to the left, and again darrin had the pigskin clutched tightly as he started to ran and deceive. again dan and the others of the interference sustained their idol and champion. dave went soon to earth, but he had forced the ball another six yards! "darry--oh, darry!" "one more play and over the line!" "you've got the elephants going at last." "rush 'em!" "a touchdown saves us!" dan's face was flushed, dave's white and set as the line again formed for the next play. quarter-back joyce held up his head, watching the field like a mouse seeking escape. then came the emergency signal: "nine--fourteen--twenty-two--three!" back came the pigskin while the middies seemed to throw their bodies toward the right. it looked as though they were trying to mask this feint. the ball was in motion. but dave had it, instead of farley. instantly the navy swung its entire line toward the left, for this was the grand rush, the die on which everything was cast! dave was darting forward, and never had his interference backed him better. before midshipman darrin stood one of the big college men, who looked fully equal to stopping the midshipman anywhere and at any time. nor did darrin try to dodge this bulky player. instead, dave, as he hurled himself at the opponent, sprang high into the air, as though he had some desperate plan of leaping over the barrier. braced on his legs, his two feet solidly planted, this hanniston man felt ready for any shock that dave darrin could bring against him. but darrin did not touch him. on the contrary, the navy's hope fell to the ground, just short of the blocking opponent. like a flash dave went between that pair of solidly braced, wide-spread legs. in a wriggle that looked flash-like to the breathless beholders, darrin was through. he had taken desperate chances, when he went down, of being beset, end forced to hold the pigskin where he had fallen. but now dave was up and running, and the player who had sought to block him was far in the rear. the whole navy force hurled itself around this point, battering down the startled opposition. with fast-coming breath dave's comrades pushed him along breaking down all opposition--until dave, with a sudden, wild dash, was over the line for a touchdown. "darry did it! darry did it!" for fifteen seconds the uproar was deafening. the college players looked stunned, while their howlers, over on the visitors' seats, seemed to shrink within their coats. "seven to six!" "make it eight!" dave darrin had borne the brunt of battle. now his eyes were flashing with excitement. "i'd like you to try the kick for goal, darry, but i don't know," called hepson in his ear. "you may be about used up." "let me have the kick. i'm not afraid," dave half boasted, for now he could think of nothing but victory. "all right. take it," agreed hepson. dave darrin did take the kick. never had he made a better one. the ball went straight and true between the goal-posts. the band-leader held his baton poised, but the navy spectators broke into such a riot of joy that he let the baton fall inertly. "what's the use?" he asked the musicians. again the players lined up, with the navy; score eight to six. ten seconds later, the whistle blew, announcing the end of the game. chapter xii joyce is bitten by the trouble bug the game was over. the giant visitors had departed, and the naval academy atmosphere appeared to be rarefied. most of the members of the brigade were back in bancroft hall, and this being late saturday afternoon, study was over save for those who felt the need of devoting extra time to their books. farley, page and joyce had dropped into the room occupied by dave and dan. "hepson was nearly crazy this afternoon," remarked joyce, laughing. "then he had an easy way of concealing the fact," dave replied. "i call him a cool football captain, with plenty of judgment and patience." "yes; but i happen to know that he was badly upset," returned joyce. "twice he sent me the wrong signal about the numbers to call, and he admitted it afterward. he was afraid, before the game was twenty minutes' old, that we were up against a big walloping." "oh, well," darrin replied, with a shrug of his shoulders, "the navy is just as used as the army is to being walloped in athletics. the trouble with the army and navy teams, in athletics, is that we're always pitted against college men who are bigger and older than we are. it's just about as unfair to us, as it would be unfair to high school teams if we played against high schools instead of colleges. we could wallop high school outfits at either baseball or football, and the only wonder is that the army and navy win as many games as they do against the colleges. college teams have more time for training than the army or navy teams do." "what are you going to do to-night, darry?" joyce asked presently. "the hop?" "no," dave answered almost shortly. the truth was that he was no "hop-fiend" or "fusser." except when belle meade was at annapolis to go to a hop with him, darrin had little liking for the ball. "i don't intend to hop either," joyce continued. "now, are you well enough up in grease to get town leave for the evening?" "grease" means good standing on the conduct report. "yes," nodded dave. "danny and i could easily get town leave, if we had a good excuse. but, of course, it's out of the question to get leave merely to roam the streets. we'd have to explain where we were going, and then go there." "there's a show on at the theatre," broke in dalzell. "yes," nodded dave. "but do you know what kind of show it is?" "no." "it's a burlesque show, brought here to win away the half dollars of the sailors on the ships here. we'd stand very little chance of getting leave to go to that kind of show." "but i want to go somewhere, away from the academy grounds, just for a couple of hours," sighed joyce. "i'd like to go also," agreed dave. "but where could we go? that is, to what place or for what purpose could we go that would be approved by the o.c.?" this proved to be a poser indeed. "fact is," joyce went on, "i'm so desperate for a little change that i don't believe i'd funk at taking french over the academy wall. what do you two say?" "that dog won't bark," dave retorted. "oh, you greaser!" joyce shied at him. "well, i am greasing to the extent that i won't imperil my chances of keeping in the service by taking any french leave," darrin replied steadily. "so, joyce, i'm afraid a trip to town to-night is out of the question, unless you can think up some plan to get by the o.c." "how are you on frenching the wall, danny boy?" queried joyce. "just about as big a muff as darry," dan returned dryly. joyce remained for some moments in deep meditation. he wanted to go into annapolis, and he didn't care about going on a lonesome expedition. the more he thought the better joyce realized how hard it was to frame a request that would get past the o.c. "i have it," spoke up dalzell at last. "we'll ask leave to run up to baltimore to consult an oculist." "you idiot!" cried joyce impatiently. none of us need spectacles." "besides, there's no train running to baltimore as late as this," added dave. "no good, then," sighed dalzell, "and my inventiveness is gone." "i'm afraid we'll have to french it over the wall," insisted joyce. "you'll french it alone, then," dave declared. "i draw the line at leaving the grounds without official permission." "prig!" grunted joyce under his breath. then he started up, his eyes shining with the light of a new resolve. "got an idea?" asked dan. "yes," said joyce. "and you'll call me a fool if i let you in on it now. wait until i see how it works." with that he hastened from the room. darrin drew down a book from the bookshelf, and from between its pages extracted a letter from belle, which he began to read for the dozenth time. a few minutes passed. then joyce knocked, next entered the room with jubilation apparent in his face. "i've fixed it," he cried. "all you fellows have to do is to go to the o.c. and make your request in person." "request for what?" dave asked, looking up as he folded the letter. "i told the o.c., plumply, that we were so tired of being on this side of the wall that we felt desperate for a change. i reminded him that we are all three in the top grease grade, and told him that we wanted permission to take a short stroll through annapolis to-night. o.c. hemmed and hawed, and said it was a most unusual request for the evening, though proper enough for saturday afternoon. at last he called up the commandant of midshipmen, stated the case and asked if he might grant the permission. the com. was game and said all right. so all that remains is for you two to go to the o.c. and make your request in person. scat! get in motion! start! i'll wait here until i hear that you've put it through." "of course, joyce, you're not putting up a joke on us?" demanded darrin, looking keenly at the navy quarter-back. "on my word i'm not." "come on, danny boy," called dave, starting, and dalzell followed readily enough. they entered the office of the o. c., saluted and stated their case. "it is, of course, a somewhat unusual request to grant for the evening," replied lieutenant-commander denham. "however, i can grant it if you will both assure me that you will take extreme pains to keep out of trouble of any kind, and that you will not enter the theatre or any other resort that would be bad judgment for a midshipman to enter." "as to that, sir," darrin replied, "i long ago resolved not to take any chances whatever of breaking any disciplinary requirements that would bring me demerits. i am working hard to get through the academic requirements, sir, and i don't intend to pass the mental ordeals here and then find that i can't keep on as a midshipman just because i have too many demerits against me. i think, sir, you may feel assured i shall not allow myself to do anything that would bring me under discipline." "your resolution was and is a most excellent one, mr. darrin," replied the o.c. "mr. dalzell, do you share mr. darrin's determination as to keeping out of trouble in annapolis this evening?" "emphatically, sir." "then the desired permission is granted. you will enter proper report as to the time of leaving and returning." thanking the o.c. and saluting, dave and dan hastened back to joyce. "not so difficult, was it?" demanded the navy quarter-back. "it was a whole lot better than planning to french the trip," retorted darrin. "now, we shall leave here to-night feeling perfectly safe as to our place on the pap." "pap" is the sheet on which the day's report of midshipmen conduct is kept. "i'll admit that caution is sometimes worth while," laughed joyce. soon after the call for supper formation sounded. the meal hour was a merry one that evening. the afternoon's game was naturally the main subject for conversation. dave naturally came in for much praise for the way he had saved the navy game, but this flattery bored him. darrin did not in the least imagine that he was a wonder on the gridiron. in fact, the game being past and won, he did not take any further interest in it. such thought as he now gave to football concerned the games still to come. immediately after the meal the three midshipmen reported their departure into annapolis. then they went to the main gate, passed through and strolled on up maryland avenue into state circle. "i'm sorry we promised not to go to the theatre," murmured midshipman joyce. "i'm not," retorted dave. "without that promise we wouldn't have secured the leave." "but what are we going to do," demanded the dissatisfied one, "now that we are outside the grounds?" "we can't do much, except what we came out to do," dave reminded joyce. "we can just walk about and stretch our legs, look in at a few store windows and make a few trifling purchases that won't exhaust our small store of pocket money." "exciting prospect!" remarked joyce. "well, what ails you?" demanded dalzell with unusual quietness. "what do you want to do? something that will get us into big trouble with the o.c. and the com.?" "joyce can't tell you what he longs for, for he doesn't know himself," explained dave. "but i know. he wants to do something irregular; anything that is slightly in breach of the regulations--something that will get him hauled up before the o.c. and the pap." "you're a wonderful guesser," laughed joyce. "well, i'll admit that i'm simply restless, and that anything that will stir my blood and my liver will fill the bill. i'm afraid i'm so depraved to-night that even a street-fight wouldn't go against the grain." "you'd better forget it," advised darrin quietly. "it's a dangerous frame of mind for a future officer and gentleman, who must acquire control over himself before he can be fit to command men." "you talk like a padre!" (chaplain) uttered joyce in disgust "can't you forget, for one evening, that you're a midshipman?" "no; i don't want to," dave returned quietly. "prig!" uttered joyce again, and this time he did not take the pains to speak under his breath. but darrin only smiled indulgently. by way of simple dissipation the three midshipmen went to a drug store, enjoying themselves with ice cream sodas. soon after they found themselves in a main street bookstore, looking over post cards. they could, however, find no new ones, and so left without buying. "and there's the theatre right over there!" sighed joyce. "it would be against our word as midshipmen and gentlemen to visit it," dave urged. "come on, joyce; we'll turn into one of the very quiet side streets and stroll along. then we'll be out of temptation." accordingly they went to one of the all but deserted side streets of the better sort. "there's a comrade ahead of us," said dave in an undertone presently, as he made out the uniform half a block away. hardly had he spoken when a door opened and a young man in evening clothes came lightly down the steps. at once the unknown midshipman wheeled and sprang at the young civilian. there was a swift interchange of blows, over almost as soon as it started, for the unknown midshipman speedily knocked down the man he had assaulted. nor did the civilian get up at once. instead, he bawled lustily for help. joyce made a move to spring forward, but dave caught him by the arm. "don't get forward, joyce. if you do, you'll probably recognize the midshipman. then you'll have to report his name." answering the calls for help five other young men ran out of the same house. the midshipman disdained to flee and stood his ground. "we'll teach you!" snarled one of the newly arrived civilians, raising his cane as though to bring it down on the midshipman's shoulders. the midshipman, like a flash, wrenched the cane from the other's hands and began to lay it lustily about him. the whole crowd, therefore, including the young man who had first been knocked down, joined in the attack. "that's too much like cowardice, and we're bound to go to the rescue of a comrade!" muttered dave darrin, his eyes blazing. "come on, fellows--and be sure not to recognize that comrade!" in a moment the fight was somewhat more equal. darrin, dalzell and joyce were all accomplished and disciplined boxers. they closed with the crowd around the midshipman. crack! thump! bump! midshipman blows landed heavily and rapidly. the civilians were soon worsted and scattered. "whoever you are, comrade," muttered dave in a low tone, wheeling the unknown midshipman around, "don't look our way and don't give us any chance to recognize you. scoot!" "po-o-o-lice!" lustily yelled one of the crowd of defeated civilians. chapter xiii hepson is "some wild" "police!" bawled others of the civilians, taking up the hue and cry. that spelled serious trouble if dave and his friends should tarry there. midshipmen are in no sense free from arrest by the civil authorities, and it is likely to fare hard with uncle sam's young sailors if they are taken in by the civil authorities. "come along," muttered darrin, leading the way. he did not run, but he certainly walked fast, and in a direction away from main street. his two companions followed him. the "unknown midshipman," taking darrin's shrewd hint, had already made himself invisible. after the prompt drubbing they had received, not one of the young civilians felt any desire to follow these husky midshipmen. the police in annapolis are few in number, and so do not always hear a street summons. in this instance dave and his friends turned a corner and were soon away from the scene of the late affair. "now, i hope you've had all the excitement you want, joyce," dave remarked dryly. "like most good things, it didn't last long," complained joyce. "oh, it isn't over yet, by any means. we've the o.c. and the com. to face," grumbled darrin. "but we couldn't stand by and see one of our own punched by a whole gang." "of course we couldn't, but why fuss about the com, and his satellite, the o.c.? they'll never hear of this." "i think there's a big chance that we shall hear of it," retorted dave. "that's why i advised you not to look at the unknown midshipman closely enough to be able to recognize him in the dark." "i don't know who he was," admitted dan candidly. "nor do i," supplemented joyce. "then, whoever he is, the chap stands little chance of being caught unless he voluntarily announces himself." presumably the police didn't answer the hail of the young civilians. at any rate, darrin and his friends heard nothing more of the matter while in town. but when they returned to bancroft hall the trio were met by this announcement: "the officer in charge wishes to see you in his office." "it's coming," warned dave, as he and his companions turned and went in to report themselves. "there has been a disturbance in annapolis," stated lieutenant-commander denham. "mr. darrin, were you in it?" "i was in one kind of disturbance, sir," darrin answered at once. "of what kind?" "several civilians attacked a man in a midshipman's uniform. i went to his aid." "and attacked some civilians?" "yes, sir." "mr. dalzell, mr. joyce, did you also take part in that affair?" inquired the o.c. "yes, sir," answered both midshipmen. "for what reason?" "because, sir," answered joyce, "several civilians pounced upon one man who wore a midshipman's uniform." "and you three rushed in and pounded some civilians?" asked the o.c. coolly. "i'm afraid we did, sir," answered dave, who found the lieutenant-commander's gaze turned on him. "who was that other midshipman, mr. darrin?" "i don't know, sir." "didn't you recognize him when you went to his aid?" "i did not, sir." "did either of you gentlemen recognize the midshipman to whose rescue you rushed?" dan and joyce replied in the negative. "tell me the circumstances of the attack, mr. darrin. take pains to make your statement so exact that you will not have to amend the statement afterwards." darrin told the affair as it had happened. "hm! and none of you recognized the fourth midshipman?" pursued the o.c. "that, in itself, was strange, mr. darrin, was there any agreement among you three that you would not recognize your comrade?" "not exactly an agreement, sir," dave confessed candidly. "at the distance that we were from the scene before we rushed in the darkness prevented our seeing the face of the unknown midshipman. as we started forward, i will admit that i warned mr. dalzell and mr. joyce not to look at the other midshipman's face." "so that you might answer truthfully, if asked, that you did not know the man?" "yes, sir; that was my reason for so advising mr. dalzell and mr. joyce." "that was what might be termed extraordinary foresight, mr. darrin," remarked lieutenant-commander denham ironically. "thank you, sir," answered dave as innocently as though he did not understand that he had just been rebuked. the o.c. frowned. "mr. darrin, since i assume you to have been the ringleader of your trio, did you give that wonderful advice to your companions just so that you might be able to refuse any aid to the naval academy authorities in running this matter to the ground?" "yes, sir," dave answered very frankly. "you wished, then," demanded the o.c. sternly, "to hinder the course of justice at the naval academy?" "it, at least, sir, did not strike me at the time quite in that light." "yet something was happening on the streets of annapolis that you knew would be very thoroughly investigated if it were reported here, and so you took precautions against being able to aid the authorities in the investigation?" "i admit the truth of that, sir." "mr. darrin, why did you feel called upon to try to defeat the investigation that you foresaw, and which is now under way?" "because, sir, it is contrary to the spirit of the brigade of midshipmen to carry tales against each other. i did not care to act contrary to that spirit." "perhaps it would be more accurate to say that you did not dare," observed the o.c. half sneeringly. "that way of stating it would be true, sir. i do not care to turn informer against my comrades." "yet you think you possess the courage to become one of our fighting officers in the future, if the need arises? "of my courage as a fighting man, sir, i am unable to form any opinion until that courage has been properly tested." "but you are afraid to inform the authorities of the identity of comrades who commit serious offenses?" "as it is contrary to the spirit of the brigade, sir, i would be more afraid of my own contempt than of any other punishment." lieutenant-commander denham appeared to lose some of his patience presently. "i wonder," he remarked brusquely, "why you midshipmen cannot learn to accept some of your sense of honor from the officers who have seen so much more service than you. i wonder why you will go on formulating your own canons of honor, even when such beliefs sometimes result in the dismissal of midshipmen from the service." the three midshipmen, not being questioned, remained silent. "and so not one of you has the slightest idea of the original nature of the quarrel in which you so readily took part? and none of you has any idea of the identity of the fourth midshipman concerned in this evening's work?" "i have not, sir," replied midshipmen darrin, dalzell and joyce in one breath. "very good, gentlemen. the matter will be investigated further. you will go to your quarters and remain there. you will take part in the meal formations, but in no drills or recitations until you are further advised. and you will not leave bancroft hall without direct orders from competent authority." the three midshipmen saluted, turned and left the office, going to their own rooms. "wow!" muttered dan as soon as the chums had closed their door on themselves. "we shall surely have enough to think of," smiled dave wearily. "oh, aye!" agreed dalzell. "oh, well, if we're going to skip some recitations we'll need all the more study," sighed dave, seating himself at his study table and drawing his books toward him. but he was not permitted to study long in peace. word of the affair had spread, and hepson presented himself at darrin's quarters in great consternation. "great!" mocked hepson. "just when we've discovered that the navy has a dub team without you two, or next door to one, then you two go and get ordered to quarters. you'll not turn out with us monday; you may not practice with us through the week or play in our next game. fine!" "perhaps," grinned dan, "if we two are so important to navy prestige as you appear to imagine, we shall not be kept long from the gridiron." "dalzell," retorted hepson impatiently, "you're a second classman, and you've been here long enough to know that no considerations of discipline will be made to stand aside in order that the navy may have a better athletic team of any kind. nothing here is sacrificed to athletics, and you surely must know it." "then i guess we're dished," confessed dalzell mournfully. "a fine way for you two to go and use the football squad! great!" insisted hepson bitterly. "had you been with us, hepson, you'd have done just as we did. i know that," dave replied. "well, you are calling me a bit," agreed hepson. "after all, i don't know just what it was that got you both into this scrape. some kind of fight, or row, in town, was all i heard." "then i'll tell you about it," darrin went on quietly. "well, i really don't see how you could have helped it," agreed midshipman hepson after he had listened. "but that doesn't save us any. we're out our two best line players and our quarter-back." "oh, we'll be restored to the squad as soon as the sentence has been pronounced," predicted dan dalzell. "even if you're bounced out of the naval academy?" demanded hepson savagely. "it--it won't be as bad as that," faltered dan. "perhaps not," agreed hepson, "though you must understand that the charge of assaulting civilians is not a light matter. you can be dismissed for it, you know." "yes," nodded dave darrin, and then danny boy went several shades less ruddy. "here's hoping for the best," grumbled hepson, holding out his hand to each in turn. "and, for the love of mike, keep out of all further trouble! don't look cross-eyed--once--until after november!" chapter xiv two sides of a story one circumstance puzzled all of the midshipmen who first heard of the affair. the fourth, and unknown, midshipman, who had waited outside of the house and assaulted the first civilian, must have known the latter or it was not likely that he would have committed the assault. that being the case, it was just likely that the civilian knew and had recognized the unknown midshipman who had knocked him down. such an attack must have followed some prior dispute. then, since the civilians had undoubtedly made complaint to the naval academy authorities, how had they been able to get out of supplying the name of the midshipman unknown to dave and his friends? right after breakfast the next morning dave darrin and his friends of the evening before were summoned before the commandant of midshipmen. by that officer they were questioned very rigidly, but they had nothing to add to their statement of the night before. they were therefore ordered back to their quarters, with permission only to attend chapel that forenoon. just after chapel, however, the fourth midshipman discovered himself to the officer in charge. he was midshipman totten, of fourth class. totten admitted that it was he who had waited outside of the house in question, and who had knocked down the civilian. he further gave the name of that civilian, who was the son of one of the prominent officials of the state government. "why did you strike him, mr. totten?" demanded the officer in charge. "because, sir, the fellow had grossly insulted a young lady whom i felt bound to avenge." "who is the young lady?" "am i obliged, sir, to give her name in the matter?" "it will be better, mr. totten. you may be sure that your statement will be treated with all the consideration and confidence possible." totten thereupon explained that the young woman in question was his cousin. totten, who was an orphan, had been brought up by an aunt who had but one child of her own, the young woman in question. when totten had won an appointment to the naval academy, the aunt and cousin had decided to move to annapolis sooner than have their little family broken up. "how did you come to be outside the academy grounds last evening, mr. totten? you were not on leave to go outside." "i took the chances and frenched it, sir," confessed totten candidly. "i knew that i could not get leave, and so did not ask it. but i felt that the fellow had to be punished, no matter at what hazard to myself." "then you considered the avenging of the insult to your cousin as being a matter of greater importance than your future career in the navy?" midshipman totten paled, but he answered bravely: "yes, sir; and at the same time a naval career means nearly everything in the world to me." lieutenant-commander morrill, the new officer in charge, felt that it was difficult to rebuke a future naval officer for defending from insult a woman dear to him. "i shall have to pass this matter on to the commandant of midshipmen," decided the o.c. "mr. totten, you will go to your quarters and remain there, until further orders, save only for meal formations." "very good, sir," replied the fourth classman saluting. "that is all, mr. totten." "very good, sir." within half an hour, dave, dan and joyce knew that the unknown midshipman had come forward and announced himself, but they did not hear the story of the reason back of totten's attack. they heard, however, that totten had not heard of their predicament until just after chapel call. the commandant of midshipmen sent for mr. totten. that official, however, after hearing the story, felt that the matter was one for the superintendent. the superintendent did not send for totten and question him, but sent, instead, for the civilians who had lodged the complaint the evening before. he sent also for young crane the man totten had named, and who had not been among the complainants of the evening before. "mr. crane," announced the superintendent, "you know, of course, the name of the midshipman who assaulted and knocked you down before the other three midshipmen interfered in the matter?" "er--er--possibly i do," confessed crane, reddening. "mr. crane, if you wish us to deal frankly with you, you must accord the same treatment to the officials of the naval academy," replied the superintendent coldly. "i--i--personally do not desire to press any complaint," continued young crane. "i am sorry that my friends took such a step." "then you consider, mr. crane," pressed the superintendent, "that the knock-down blow you received from a midshipman was in the nature of a merited punishment?" "i--i won't say that," cried crane quickly. "no, sir! i won't admit it!" "then, as we know that midshipman totten was your assailant," continued the superintendent, "we shall have to place that young man on trial. we shall be obliged to summon you as a witness at that trial, mr. crane." "but i have no intention, sir, of appearing as a witness," blustered that young man. "mr. crane, you can have no choice in the matter. if we summon you, you can be brought here from any part of the united states." "i--i--can't the matter be dropped, sir?" urged the young man anxiously. "not unless you confess yourself in the wrong, and exonerate mr. totten. in any other event the case will have to come to trial before a court-martial, and you, mr. crane, since we are certain that you possess material evidence, will be forced to appear as a witness." mr. crane looked almost as uncomfortable as he felt. "mr. totten," continued the superintendent, "states that you grossly insulted his cousin, a young woman, and that he met you on purpose to avenge that insult." "there--there--was some trouble about a young woman," admitted crane. "but i am a gentleman, sir." "i am not expected to decide the last question that you have raised," replied the superintendent dryly. "all that concerns me in the matter is whether you exonerate mr. totten, or whether you do not. if you do not, the midshipman must state his case fully before a court-martial, at which you will be one of the important witnesses." "i exonerate mr. totten," replied crane in a very low tone. "do you exonerate him completely?" "ye-es, sir." "then mr. totten's offense will be reduced to one or two-simple breaches of discipline," went on the superintendent. "but see here, sir," interposed one of the other young men, "are your midshipmen to be allowed to go about pounding whom they like? are they to be swashbucklers and bullies?" "very decidedly not, sir," replied the superintendent in a voice almost thunderous. "the midshipmen of the united states naval academy must conduct themselves as gentlemen at all times." "did they do that," urged the last speaker, "when they sailed into us as they did?" "why did your friends go to the assistance of mr. crane?" asked the superintendent. "be--because," stammered the spokesman, "your midshipman had knocked crane down and was misusing him." "did you, the friends of mr. crane, consider it the act of gentlemen for several to rush in and attack one man?" that left the callers rather breathless. "now, as to our other three midshipmen," pursued the superintendent, "at most they only rushed in to see fair play. they did not make a hostile move until they saw a whole crowd of you attacking one midshipman. gentlemen, i am quite ready to leave it to a jury of any intelligent citizens as to whether the offending midshipmen or yourselves displayed the more gallantry and honor. for you have all admitted doing something that is not consistent with the highest standards of a gentleman, while our accused midshipmen have no such reproach against them." "then your midshipmen are to get off, and to be encouraged to repeat such conduct?" demanded the spokesman of the crane party. "no. on the contrary, they will be punished for whatever breaches of naval discipline they have committed. considering what you gentlemen have admitted, however, i do not believe you would have any standing as witnesses before a court-martial. i therefore advise you all to drop your complaint. yet if you insist on a complaint, then i will see to it that midshipman totten is brought to trial." crane and his associates felt, very quickly and keenly, that they would cut but sorry figures in such a trial. they therefore begged to withdraw their former complaint. when they had departed the superintendent smiled at his reflection in the glass opposite. before supper all of the midshipmen involved knew their fate. they were restored to full liberty. darrin, dalzell and joyce were again rebuked for having taken such elaborate pains to escape recognizing totten at the time of the encounter. beyond the lecture by the commandant of midshipmen, each of the trio was further punished by the imposition of ten demerits. in frenching and in taking justice into his own hands midshipman totten was held to have erred. however, the nature of his grievance and the fact that he was only a new fourth classman were taken into consideration. for frenching he was punished with twenty-five demerits; for the assault on a civilian, considering all the circumstances, he was let off with ten additional demerits. yet, somehow, all of the midshipmen involved felt their punishment very lightly. they could not escape the conviction that the naval academy authorities did not regard them as especially guilty offenders. "we've got you back on the gridiron, at any rate," exclaimed hepson exultantly. "we of the football squad wish that we might be permitted to divide your demerits up among ourselves." "you might suggest that little point to the commandant of midshipmen," grinned dan. "and get jolly well trounced for our impudence," grimaced midshipman hepson. "no, thank you; though you criminals have our utmost sympathy, we will let matters rest where they are at present. only a fool tries to change well enough into worse." chapter xv the navy goat weeps "did you hear that ella had a bad tumble down three stories?" asked midshipman dan. "ella who?" questioned dave, looking up. "elevator!" grinned dalzell. "ugh!" grunted dave disgustedly. "say, do you know how that would strike the com.?" "no," replied dan innocently, looking away. "how would it strike him?" "hard!" dave responded. slam! the somewhat heavy book that darrin, aimed went straight to the mark, landing against dan's nearer ear with all the force of a sound boxing. "i see you appreciate a good joke," muttered dalzell grimly. "yes," dave admitted. "do you?" "when i tell you another," growled dan, "i'll be holding an axe hidden behind my back." "say, did i show you that letter of dick's?" dave asked, looking up presently. "appendix?" inquired dan suspiciously. "oh, stow all that, little boy!" retorted dave. "no; did i tell you that i had a letter from dick prescott?" "i think you mentioned something of the sort, last winter," dalzell admitted still suspicious. "no; i got one this morning from good old dick," darrin went on. "all right," dan agreed. "what's the answer?" "i haven't had time to read it yet," darrin responded. "but here's the letter. maybe you'd like to look it over." across the study table dan dalzell received the envelope and its enclosure rather gingerly. dan didn't like to be caught "biting" at a "sell," and he still expected some trick from his roommate. it was, however, a letter written in dick prescott's well-remembered handwriting. "i understand that you are both on the navy team, and that you made good in the first game," wrote the west point cadet. "i hope you'll both stay in to the finish, and improve with every game. greg and i are plugging hard at the game in the little time that the west point routine allows us for practice. from what i have heard of your game, i think it likely that you and good, but impish old dan, are playing against the very position that greg and i hope to hold in the annual army-navy game. won't it be great?" "yes, it will be great, all right, if the navy contrives to win," dan muttered, looking up at his chum. "either the army or navy must lose," replied dave quietly. "and just think!" cadet dick prescott's letter ran on. "when we meet, lined up for battle on franklin field, philadelphia, it will be the first time we four have met since we wound up the good old high school days at gridley. it seems an age to greg and me. i wonder if the time seems as long to you two?" "it seems to me," remarked dan, glancing across at his chum, "that you and i, david, little giant, have been here at annapolis almost ever since we first donned trousers to please the family." "it is a long time back to gridley days," assented darrin. then dan went on reading. "of course you and dan are bound that the navy shall win this year," dick had written. "as for greg and me, we are equally determined that the army shall win. as if the resolutions on either side had much of anything to do with it! it will seem strange for us four, divided between the two sides, to be fighting frantically for the victory. however, if greg and i go up against you two on the gridiron we won't show you any mercy, and we know that we shall receive none from you. each man must do all that's possibly in him for the glory of his own side of the united service! here's to the better eleven--army or navy!" "i'll bet dick and greg will give us all the tussle they know how, if they get near us in the fight," nodded dan, passing the letter back. "well, they're bound to, aren't they?" demanded darrin. "and now, danny boy, we simply must stow all gab and get busy with our lessons. we've a recitation between now and the afternoon practice." "and the game, to-morrow!" breathed midshipman dalzell fervently. the morrow's game was to be against the university of pennsylvania eleven. the opposition team being an unusually good one that year, the navy's gridiron pets were preparing to strain every nerve in the hope of victory. in that afternoon's practice dave and dan showed up better than ever. farley and page, too, were coming along splendidly, while midshipman joyce was proving himself all but a joy to exacting hepson. but when the morrow came u.p. carried away the game to the tune of five to nothing, and the navy goat wept. dave and dan made several brilliant plays, but the navy average both of size and skill was somewhat below that of the older, bigger college men. other games followed fast now, and the navy eleven and its subs. had plenty of work cut out for them. up to the time of the army-navy game, the middies had a bright slate of eighty per cent. of victories. dave and dan had the pleasure of reading, in the "army and navy journal," that they were considered the strongest men on the left flank that the navy had been, able to show in ten years. "when we go up against the army," hepson informed dave and dan, "i don't know whether you'll play at left or right. it will all depend on where the army puts prescott and holmes. friends of ours who have watched the play at west point tell me that prescott and holmes are armored terrors on the gridiron." "they are, if they've gone forward in the game, instead of backward," darrin replied honestly. "but you and dalzell can hold 'em, can't you?" demanded hepson anxiously. "i don't dare brag," dave answered. "the truth, if anything, is that danny boy and i can hardly hope to hold the army pair back. you see, hep, i know prescott and holmes pretty well, from the fact that we played together on the same high school eleven for two years. prescott, in fact, was the boy who trained us all." "well, don't let the navy fellows get the idea that you're afraid of that army pair," begged hepson. "it might get our men discouraged. darry, we simply must wipe up the field with the army! there isn't--there can't be any such word as 'defeat' for us." as the time drew near for the greatest of all annual games the instructors at the naval academy began to record lower marks for nearly all of the men in the daily recitations. the midshipmen simply couldn't keep their minds from wandering to the gridiron. it meant so much--to beat the army! then quickly enough the feverish day came. early in the forenoon the entire brigade of midshipmen, in uniform, was marched into town behind the naval academy band. scores of navy officers, with their ladies, went along. a lot of the townspeople followed in the big rush to odenton and baltimore. from there two sections of a special train conveyed the annapolis host to philadelphia. franklin field was reached, and one of the most brilliant athletic and social events of the year was on. we shall not attempt to follow the course of the game here. the navy eleven hurled itself into the fray with undying heroism, but the army won the great game. it is all told in the third volume of "the west point series," entitled "dick presscott's third year at west point." in that volume, too, is described the meeting of the old-time high school chums, their first meeting since the old-time days back in the tome town of gridley. the game was over at last. the navy was crestfallen, though not a sign of sorrow or humiliation showed in the jaunty step of the men of the brigade as they marched back to the railway station and took the train for the first stage of the journey home--the run between philadelphia and baltimore. on the train hepson hunted up dave and dan. "you did your best, fellows, i know, that," murmured the defeated football captain. "and you gave me, in advance, a fair estimate of that army pair, prescott and holmes. say, but they're a pair of terrors! if we had that pair on the navy eleven, along with you two, no team that the army ever yet sent out could beat us. but we made a strong fight, at any rate. all of our friends say that." "i'm glad i didn't do any bragging in advance," darrin smiled wistfully. "we were fairly eaten up, hep." "oh, well, we'll hope for better luck next year, with the navy under some other captain. maybe you'll be captain next year, darry." "i don't want to be," dave answered, with a shake of his head. "if you couldn't carry our team to victory i don't dare try." "then i'll be captain--if i'm asked," promised dan, with the grin that always lurked close to the surface of his face. while hundreds of midshipmen felt desperately blue on the homeward journey, dalzell had already nearly forgotten his disappointment. "you'll never be asked," predicted hepson good-humoredly. "danny boy, the trouble with you would be that the fellows would never know when you were in earnest. as captain of the eleven, you might start to give an order, and then nothing but a pun would come forth. you're too full of mischief to win victories." "i hope that won't be true if i ever have the luck to command a battleship in war time," sighed dalzell, becoming serious for four or five seconds. then he bent forward and dropped a cold nickel inside of joyce's collar. the cold coin coursed down joyce's spine? causing that tired and discouraged midshipman to jump up with a yell. "why does the com. ever allow that five-year-old imp to travel with men?" grunted joyce disgustedly, as he sat down again and now realized that the nickel was under him next to the skin. "danny boy," groaned dave, "will you ever grow up? why do you go on making a pest of yourself?" "why, the fellows need some cheering up, don't they?" dan inquired. "if you don't look out, danny boy, you'll rouse them to such a pitch of cheerfulness that they'll raise one of the car windows and drop you outside for sheer joy." the joy that had been manifest in annapolis that morning was utterly stilled when the brigade reached the home town once more. true, the band played as a matter of duty, but as the midshipmen marched down maryland avenue in brigade formation they passed many a heap of faggots and many a tar-barrel that had been placed there by the boys of the town to kindle into bonfires with which to welcome the returning victors. but to-night the faggot-piles and the tar-barrels lay unlighted. in the dark this material for bonfires that never were lighted looked like so many spectral reminders of their recent defeat. it hurt! it always hurts--either the cadets or the midshipmen--to lose the army-navy game. once back at quarters in bancroft hall, it seemed to many of the midshipmen as though it would have been a relief to have to go to study tables to work. yet, since no work was actually required on this night, none was done. midshipmen wandered about in their own rooms and visited. the more they realized the defeat, the bluer they became. from some rooms came sounds of laughter, but it was hollow. farley got out a banjo, breaking into a lively darky reel. yet, somehow, the sound was mournful. "please stop that dirge and play something cheerful!" begged the voice of a passing midshipman. "put the lyre away, farl," advised page. "nothing sounds happy to-night." "we love to sing and dance. we're happy all the day--ha, ha!" wailed dan dalzell. he wasn't so very blue himself, but he was trying to keep in sympathy with the general tone of feeling. "well, hep, you made as good a showing, after all, as could be expected with a dub team," spoke joyce consolingly, when they met in a corridor. "it wasn't a dub team," retorted hepson dismally. "the eleven was all right. the only trouble lay in having a dub for a captain." it was a relief to hundreds that night when taps sounded at last, and the master switch turned off the lights in midshipmen quarters. at least the young men were healthy and did not waste hours in wooing sleep and forgetfulness. then sunday morning came, and the football season was over until the next year. "from now on it's going to be like starting life all over again, after a fire," was the way dan put it that sunday morning, in an effort to make some of his comrades feel that all was not lost. had dan been able to foresee events which he and dave must soon encounter, even that grinning midshipman wouldn't have been happy. chapter xvi the man with a scowl on tap "i wish we lived in annapolis, that we might be here at every hop!" sighed belle meade, as the waltz finished and she and dave, flushed and happy, sought seats at the side of the ballroom. they had hardly seated themselves when they were joined by dan and laura bentley. "i was just saying, laura," belle went on, "that it would be splendid if we lived here all through the winter. then we'd have a chance to come to every hop." "wouldn't we want to put in a part of the winter near west point?" asked miss bentley, smiling, though with a wistful look in her eyes. "perhaps that would be fairer, to you," belle agreed. "you'd soon get tired of the hops," ventured dave. "can one ever weary of dancing?" belle demanded. "well, perhaps one might, though never on the small amount that has come to me so far in life. and this navy orchestra plays so divinely!" "our number's next, i believe, ladies," called midshipman farley, as he and page came up, eager for their chances with these two very charming belles of the hop. "hang you, farl!" muttered dave. "that's just like darrin, miss meade," laughed farley. "he's always a monopolist at heart. though in this instance i am far from wondering at his desire to be." it was the first hop after the semi-annual exams. a host of fourth classmen and some from the upper classes had been dropped immediately after the examinations, but dave and dan and all their more intimate friends in the brigade had pulled through. darrin and dalzell had come out of the ordeal with the highest markings they had yet achieved at the naval academy. mrs. meade had come down to annapolis to chaperon belle and laura, but this evening mrs. meade was chatting with a middle-aged naval officer and so did not see much of the young people. as the music struck up, farley and page claimed consideration, dave and dan were left without partners. "nothing more doing for two dances, david, little giant," murmured midshipman dalzell. "suppose we slip into our overcoats and walk around outside." "i'd rather," assented darrin. "it's dull in here when a fellow isn't dancing." it was a night of unusually light attendance on the part of the fair sex, with a rather larger attendance than usual of midshipmen, for which reason dave found many other midshipmen outside, strolling up and down. "what we need, fellows," called joyce, coming up to the chums, "is a new regulation that no midshipman may attend a hop unless he drags a femme." "that would have shut you out of every hop so far this year," laughed dave. "i know it," joyce admitted. "but i'm going to cut all hops after this, unless some real queen will favor me as her escort and agree to dance at least half the numbers with me. i've had only two dances this evening. it's too tame. i'm going back to bancroft hall and stand ready to turn in at the first signal. what's the use of hanging around at a hop when there's only one girl to every five fellows?" "you have suffered the just fate of the free lance," remarked dan dalzell virtuously. "as for me, i never think of attending a hop unless i squire some femme thither." "there used to be girls enough last year," complained joyce. "well, i'm off for home and bed." "we'll stroll along up with you," proposed darrin. "no girls for you, either?" "not for two numbers. then we return to the young ladies that we escorted here." "just to think," grunted joyce, sniffing in the salt air that reached them from the waterfront, "a good deal more than a year more here before we get regularly at sea." "it seems as though we'd been here a long time," sighed dave. "but i don't suppose there was ever a midshipman yet who didn't long to get away from annapolis and into the real, permanent life on the wave. a west point man must feel some of the same longing." "but he's on the land at west point," objected joyce, "and he's still on land after he graduates and goes to some post. the army cadet has no such glorious future to look forward to as has a midshipman." "hello, here's jet," called dave as a midshipman enveloped in his overcoat approached them. "going to the hop, jet?" "will you do me a great favor?" asked midshipman jetson. "certainly, if possible," agreed dave cordially. "then mind your own business," snapped the other midshipman. darrin, who had made it a point to forget the brief unpleasantness of the football season, received this rebuke with about the same feelings that a slap in the face would have given him. the sulky midshipman had stepped past the trio, but dave, after swallowing hard, wheeled about and hailed: "hold on, there, mr. jetson!" "well?" demanded jetson, halting and looking back. "i don't like your tone, sir." "and i don't like your face, sir," retorted jetson. "nor your cheek, either, for that matter." "i tried to treat you pleasantly," dave went on, hurt and offended. "oh! it required an effort, did it?" sneered jetson. "something may have happened that i don't know anything about," darrin continued. "it may be that you have some real reason for treating me as you have just done. if you have any good reason i wish you'd tell me, for in that case i must have done something that put me in wrong. if that's the case, i want to make amends." "oh--bosh!" grumbled the other midshipman. "come on, now!" urged dave. "be a man!" "then you imply that i am not?" demanded jetson aggressively. "not necessarily," dave contended. "i just want to make sure, in my own mind, and i should think you'd be similarly interested." "if you want to insult me, mr. darrin," flared back jetson, "i'll remain here long enough to hear you and to arrange for resenting the insult. otherwise--" "well?" insisted dave quietly, though his anger was rising. "otherwise?" "otherwise," retorted midshipman jetson, "i'll pursue my way and seek company that pleases me better." "look out, jet, old hot-plate!" laughed joyce. "you'll soon be insulting all three of us." "i don't intend to," jetson rejoined quickly. "my quarrel concerns only mr. darrin." "oho!" murmured dave. "there is a quarrel, then?" "if you choose to pick one." "but i don't, mr. jetson. quarreling is out of my line. if i've done you any harm or any injustice i'm ready to make good by apologies and otherwise. and, if i haven't wronged you in any way, you should be equally manly and apologize for your treatment of me just now." "oh, bosh!" snapped mr. jetson once more. "this is none of my quarrel," interposed midshipman joyce, "and i'm not intentionally a promoter of hard feeling. but it seems to me, jet, that darry has spoken as fairly as any fellow could. now, it seems to me that it's up to you to be equally manly." "so you, too, are asserting that i'm not manly," bristled mr. jetson haughtily. "you all seem bound to force trouble on me to-night." "not i, then," retorted joyce, his spirit rising. "i'm finding myself forced to the belief that you're hardly worth having trouble with." jetson clenched his fists, taking a step forward, his dark eyes flashing. then he halted, as though implying that he was not thus easily to be driven into forgetting himself. "come along, fellows," urged dan dalzell in a low voice. "mr. jetson seems to have no intention either of explaining or of affording other satisfaction." "hold on, mr. jetson, you needn't answer him," interposed darrin quickly, as jetson opened his mouth. "first of all this affair seems to concern me. you've intimated that i'm no friend of yours and not worthy to be ranked as such. now, i ask you, fairly and flatly, what has brought your mind to this pitch? what have i done, or what haven't i done?" "search your conscience," jeered jetson. "i've been doing so ever since this foolish conversation started, and i haven't found the answer yet. all i recall, jetson, is that, at the outset of my football practice, there was some little unpleasantness between us. you injured me, twice, in practice play, and i admit that i was somewhat angry about it at the time. but you gave your word that you hadn't intended any tricks against me. i believed you to be a man of honor, and i accepted your word that you were innocent of evil intention against me. having accepted your word, i held no further grudge in the matter, and i have as nearly forgotten the whole business as a man with a memory can." "then tell me why i didn't play on the football eleven?" flamed up midshipman jetson. "principally, i imagine, because captain hepson, after consultation with the coaches, didn't call you to the navy eleven." "and why didn't hepson call me?" followed up jetson, all his pent-up sulkiness boiling over now. "i don't know, particularly. probably, i imagine, for the same reason that he didn't call a lot of other men to the eleven--because he believed he could make a better choice." "darrin, you know well enough that you so influenced hepson to keep me off the team!" "jetson, are you mad?" "no; but i'm naturally angry." "i give you my word that i didn't do anything to prevent your making the team." "and you expect me, mr. darrin, to believe that?" "if you decline to do so, it amounts to passing the lie. but i'll overlook that for a moment. joyce, i think hepson is not dancing at present. will you return to the hop, and, if he is not dancing, will you bring him out here?" "i don't want to see hepson," cried midshipman jetson. "you're the only one i'm interested in in this matter, mr. darrin." "you've virtually refused to accept my word." "i do so refuse." "then you call me--" "a liar, if you like!" snapped back midshipman jetson. "sir, do you realize--" "i realize that you're still talking!" sneered jetson. "then i won't talk any longer," replied dave darrin in a quiet but dangerous voice. "since you refuse to listen even to hepson--" "who's taking my name in vain?" demanded a laughing voice as a burly figure moved in between dave and his enemy. the new comer was hepson, who had come upon the group unnoticed. "perhaps you're just in time, hep," murmured dave, fighting to cool down his temper. "i wanted you to prove--" "stop!" ejaculated jetson angrily. in his extreme passion he threw all restraint and courtesy to the winds. "i wouldn't take the word of hepson, or of any man in the entire brigade in this matter. darrin has lied, and--" "step aside, hep, please," urged dave, giving the late football captain a gentle shove. "this matter can't go any further in words. mr. jetson, you have insulted me, and grossly. are you capable of cooling down? do you wish to retract?--to apologize?" "apologize to you--you--" whatever the word was, it didn't get out, for in the same instant darrin cried warningly: "guard yourself!" midshipman jetson threw up his hands, but darrin's right fist landed across his offending mouth with such force as to fell the sulky midshipman flat to the earth. chapter xvii an affair of sulks having struck the blow, midshipman darrin stepped back, to give his opponent an unobstructed chance to rise to his feet. "what's this all about?" demanded midshipman hepson wonderingly. "it's gone too far for talk, now," replied dan dalzell. "wait until darry has put a new head on this idiot." jetson took his time about getting to his feet when he did rise he didn't assume his guard at once. "well," asked darrin coolly, but mockingly, "have you had all you can stand, or are you going to back up your wild, crazy statements?" suddenly jetson raised one of his feet quickly, as though to kick dave in the belt line. "here, stop that!" cried hepson and joyce in the same breath, as they sprang forward. darrin, seeing others interfere, didn't attempt to strike back, but merely stepped aside. that was the chance for which jetson had been watching. his kick didn't land; he hadn't intended that it should, but dave's surprised recoil gave the other the chance that he really wanted. both of jetson's fists struck on dave's nose, drawing a flood of the crimson. "you coward! you cur!" gasped amazed dalzell. "silence, all!" ordered hepson, speaking by virtue of being a first classman. "jet is crazy, but he can't be expected to take up more than one affair at a time. darry, take your time to stop the flow of blood. then you can demand an accounting of jetson." "i've nothing more to say," remarked jetson. "i was struck and i've returned the blow with interest. that ends my concern in the affair. good night, all." "hold on!" ordered hepson, bounding forward and laying a strong, detaining hand on jetson's shoulder. "you can't slip away like that. matters have gone so far that they'll simply have to go further. you'd put yourself wholly in the wrong by withdrawing now--especially after the slimy trick that you've played a fair opponent." "slimy, eh?" cried jetson angrily. "mr. hepson, you and i will have to have an accounting, too!" "oh, just as you like," responded the first classman, shrugging his shoulders. "you'll find it a better rule, however, to stick to one affair at a time. darry, are you in shape, now, to attend to this matter from your point of view?" "quite," nodded dave, who had about succeeded in stanching the flow of blood from his injured nose. "does mr. jetson desire to take his coat off or not?" "yes!" cried jetson tempestuously, unbuttoning his own overcoat and tossing it to the ground. "now, take yours off, mr. darrin!" "it's off," responded dave, tossing the garment aside. "now, look to yourself, sir!" the two second classmen closed in furiously. it was give and take, for a few moments. in the clinches, however, jetson succeeded in tearing darrin's dress coat, and also in starting the blood again so that the crimson dripped down on dave's white shirt front. at the end of a full minute, however, darrin had sent his enemy to the ground, stopped in a knock-out. both of jetson's eyes were also closed and badly swollen. "joyce," asked hepson, "will you kindly remain with jetson and see that he is assisted to the hospital, if he needs it? it won't do for too many of us, especially darry, to be found here by any officer who may be passing." "i'll attend to it," nodded midshipman joyce, "though i'd rather perform the service for any other fellow in the brigade." now that the affair was over, and dave, after inspecting the damage to his dress coat, was pulling on his overcoat, he was suddenly recalled to other responsibilities. "danny boy," he said ruefully, as hepson walked away with them, "i can't very well get back to the hop soon--perhaps not at all tonight. i can't go back in this torn coat, and i may not be able to borrow another that will fit me well. will you be good enough to hurry back and explain to belle why i am delayed--perhaps prevented from seeing her again tonight?" "certainly," nodded dalzell, turning and hastening back. "now, what was it all about, darry?" asked hepson, as he walked along with dave. midshipman darrin explained the trouble as well as he could. "so the idiot accused you of keeping him off the football eleven!" demanded hepson in astonishment. "yes; and i offered to prove, by you, that i had nothing to do with his exclusion from the team." "why the sole and whole reason why jetson wasn't called to the navy team," declared hepson, "was because he was believed to be too awkward and too dangerous to other players. whew, but i'm certainly sorry this thing has happened!" "so am i," dave confessed candidly. "and jet made the further fool mistake of declaring that he wouldn't accept the word of any midshipman in the brigade." "something of the sort." "why, that's a wholesale, blanket insult to the whole brigade. darry, your class will have to take action over such a remark as that." "oh, jetson uttered the remark in the heat of an exceptional temper." "that won't save him," predicted hepson sagely. "the insult is there and it will stick. your class, darry, would lose caste with the fellows here if it allowed such an insult to go." "well, if it gets around, i suppose some sort of action will have to be taken." "the second class, under the circumstances, can't do much less than send jetson to coventry." "oh, that would be too much!" dave protested generously. "jetson has always been an honorable, square fellow in the past." "he has always been infernally sulky and high-handed," growled midshipman hepson. "a bad temper is not such an uncommon failing," smiled dave. "no; but there are limits to the amount of temper that a gentleman may display and still be worthy to associate with gentlemen," contended hepson stubbornly. "it's the insult to the whole brigade that i'm thinking of. darry, i'll wager that your class won't and can't do less than give jetson a trip to coventry." [illustration: "take off your overcoat, mr. darrin."] "oh, that would be too much--unjust!" protested dave. "the class will do it just the same." "if the class mixes up in my affair, and carries it so far as to send jetson to coventry, i'll be hanged if i don't go there with him!" cried darrin impulsively. the words were out. a man of darrin's honest nature would feel bound to stand by even that heated utterance. "oh, come, now, darry, don't be so foolish over a fellow who has treated you in such fashion." "i've said it, haven't i?" asked dave grimly. "it would be an utter injustice, and i'm not going to see something that is my own affair distorted into an injustice that would be altogether out of proportion to jetson's offense." by this time the strolling pair of midshipmen had reached the entrance to bancroft hall. "what are you going to try to do about your dress coat, darry?" asked hepson in an undertone. "borrow one?" "if i can find one that fits." "take my advice, then. don't just borrow, and thereby run a chance of getting both yourself and the lender in trouble. for of course you know that one can never tell when an inspection may be made, and the man whose dress coat was gone would have to account for it. so go to the o. c., state that your coat was accidentally torn, and ask permission to borrow one in order that you may return and escort your ladies back to the hotel. your o. c. won't raise any objection to that." "but he might want to see the coat that i have on," grimaced dave. "then the o. c. would be sure to see the blood-drips on my shirt front, or the collar, at least. then talk of a mere accident might lead to questions as to the nature of the accident." "true," nodded hepson. "then get back to your room. get out clean linen and get into it. while you're doing that i'll negotiate the loan of a dress coat that will fit. then you can go to the o. c., after you've changed the telltale linen." this course, accordingly, was followed. dave changed his linen as quickly as he could, while hepson appeared with three borrowed dress coats for a try-on. one was found to fill the bill. resting it over a chair, darrin slipped on his service blouse and reported to the o.c. permission was granted to borrow a dress coat. if the officer in charge felt any suspicion or curiosity as to the nature of the accident he cleverly concealed the fact. a good deal of time, however, had been consumed. by the time that midshipman dave darrin returned to the hop the orchestra was just breaking into the strains of "home, sweet home." dave's quick glance roved the floor and the seats. he beheld belle meade, seated at the side, while farley bent over her in an inviting attitude. darrin quickly reached the scene. belle saw him coming, just in time to refrain from taking farley's arm. "you won't mind this time, will you, farl?" dave asked, smiling. "i had given you up," said belle, as they moved away together in the dance. "of course dan told you what had delayed me." "he told me you would return as soon as you could," replied miss meade, "but he was provokingly mysterious as to the cause of your absence." "there was a little trouble," dave whispered. "are you in trouble?" asked belle quickly, her cheeks paling. "no; i think not. by trouble i mean that i just took part in a fight." "so you took the time when i am here as the most suitable occasion for a fight?" asked belle, her color coming back and heightening. "it isn't wise for me to explain it now, belle," dave told her quickly. "you won't blame me when you know. but i'd rather save it for telling when we are out of the academy grounds." "oh, just as you like. dave, we mustn't let anything spoil what's left of this last short dance of the night." "thank you, belle. these dances together don't happen any too frequently." it was when the young people were walking back to the maryland hotel, and mrs. meade had joined dan and laura, that belle again asked the nature of the trouble that had deprived darrin of three of his dances with her. dave told the story, briefly, adding: "under the midshipmen's code, the blow had to be struck when the lie was passed." "i don't blame you for knocking the fellow down," belle agreed indignantly. "what a worthless fellow that mr. jetson must be!" "do you know, belle, i can't quite bring myself to believe that he is worthless?" "his conduct shows it," argued the girl. "at first thought it would appear so but jetson, i believe, is only the victim of an unhappy temper that makes him suspicious and resentful. he's brave enough, and he's never been caught in a dishonorable trick." "except the tricks he played on you at the football practice." "he passed his word that he intended no trick, and i have been wholly inclined to take his word in the matter." "dave, you must look out for this man jetson! he's going to get you into some trouble before you're through with him," exclaimed belle earnestly. all her instinct was aroused in the matter, for dave darrin's success was dearer to belle meade than was anything else in the world. "there are two things that i regret very much to-night," dave went on. "one was that jetson should provoke such a senseless dispute, and the other that i should be obliged to miss so much of your company here at annapolis." "i wouldn't mind anything," belle answered, "if i could feel sure that no more trouble would come out of this affair with jetson." "i don't believe there will be any disturbing outcome," dave assured her; "unless, possibly, another fight." "a fight is nothing," declared belle with spirit. "you're in training to become a fighting man, and a bout or two at fistcuffs is nothing more or less than so much valuable experience. dave, promise me something?" "of course, if it's anything promisable." "you'll write me--" "can you doubt that, belle?" "and let me know exactly and truthfully if anything further comes of this," she finished. "i'll write and tell you anything that a midshipman is at liberty to make known concerning the conduct of the brigade." "just what does that cover?" asked belle. "i can't easily answer until the something or other happens to turn up." "at any rate, dave, if i get a suspicion that you're withholding from me anything that i ought to know, i shall be dreadfully worried. you can't have any idea how worried i have been about you sometimes in the past." not much time was there for the two midshipmen to remain at the foot of the steps of the hotel then, after hearty good nights, dave and dan left the ladies, whom they would not see again until the next visit. "from one or two things that i couldn't help overhearing, i judge that belle is greatly worried over the possibility of trouble arising from the jetson affair," remarked dan on the way back to the naval academy and quarters. "yes," dave admitted. "pooh! how can any trouble come to you out of the matter? with jetson it's different he declared that he wouldn't take the word of any midshipman in the brigade." "that was spoken in the heat of temper. jetson didn't mean it." "just the same, some of the fellows have heard of it already, and i shan't be surprised if our class holds a meeting and sends jetson to coventry--where the fellow belongs." "if they send jetson to coventry," spoke dave quietly though bluntly, "i shall go along to coventry with him." dalzell halted, staring at his chum in open-mouthed wonder. "you idiot!" blazed dan in wrathful disgust. chapter xviii the class meeting sits as jury three days later the class meeting was held. jetson was especially impressed with the notion that he must attend, since he must appear as the accused. with one of his disposition it was quite natural that the young man should go before the class in a highly resentful mood. after a few introductory remarks, jetson was summoned by the class president to rise. "mr. jetson," asked the class president, "do you intend to deny having made the remark imputed to you--that you would not take the word of any midshipman in the brigade!" "i made the remark, after a measure, sir," jetson replied. "what i said was that in a certain matter i would not take the word of any midshipman in the brigade if it went counter to my fixed belief." "mr. jetson, don't you consider that, under the circumstances, that amounted to a statement of your unwillingness to accept the word of members of the brigade?" "i should be sorry to have that construction placed on my remark, mr. president, for i know that nearly all the men of the brigade are men with a fine sense of honor." "then how do you reconcile this statement with your other one?" "mr. president, i meant, and i still mean, that i am so certain of the truth of the charge that i made to one darrin, that, if members of the brigade spoke differently, i would then know that they were not telling the truth." a storm of protests went up, while one hoarse voice bellowed: "throw him out!" and another called: "coventry!" "order!" commanded the class president, rapping hard with his gavel. "mr. jetson, it is a most serious matter to impugn the good faith and honor of the brigade. it is hardly mitigated by the fact that the words were uttered in the heat of passion, especially when, in your cooler moment, you are not inclined to retract your statement or to render it harmless. i believe, therefore, that i am in accord with the sense of this meeting of the class when i ask you if you have any retraction or apology to offer." "for the statement, in the form in which i offered it, mr. president, i have no retraction or apology to offer, and only such explanation as i have lately given." "coventry! coventry!" came the insistent call. "well, then, you can send me to coventry, you friends of darrin, if you feel yourselves justified in doing it!" quivered midshipman jetson, tossing his head and glaring defiantly around the room. "mr. president!" "mr. wentworth." "in view of the charge, and the subsequent statements of mr. jetson, i feel that we have an unpleasant duty to perform. the brigade is founded and based on honor. we, the members, cannot allow that honor to be impugned by one who would otherwise be fitted to be a member of the brigade. as mr. jetson refuses to retract his words, and as some one must take the initiative, it is my disagreeable duty to move you, sir, that the second class decide that mr. jetson is no longer worthy to be of our number, and that he accordingly be sent to coventry." "mr. president!" "mr. page." "mr. president, i desire to second the motion, and this i do as regretfully as it was moved." "oh, go ahead and send me to coventry, then!" jetson blazed forth angrily. "this class appears to have been hypnotized by darrin. but, even if you do send me to coventry, we shall see whether your action will be potent enough to drive me from the naval academy!" waving his arms wildly in the heat of his anger, midshipman jetson hurried from the room, midshipmen moving aside to favor his swift exit. hardly had the door banged when from all parts of the room the cry went up: "question! question! put the motion." "mr. president!" "mr. darrin." "i arise, sir, to discuss the motion. i ask the gentlemen of the class to bear with me patiently while i set forth some of the aspects of this matter as i see them. "at the very outset, sir, i wish to make it as plain as possible that i do not seek to stand here as the apologist for mr. jetson. i feel very certain that he would not authorize me to take that position. what i state i am stating on my own authority purely, and therein i am only exercising my right as a member of the second class. "i would remind you, sir, that you all know, as well as i do, that mr. jetson has always borne an honorable reputation in this class and in the brigade. you all know his leading traits as well as i do. mr. jetson is a man of quick temper and rather lasting resentments. there is a good deal of sullenness in his nature--" "and they're not the best qualities in a man who is being trained to command!" broke in a midshipman at the rear of the room. "as to whether mr. jetson will be, by graduation time, well fitted to command men," dave answered, "is not a question that this class is called upon to pass on. that question rests with the faculty of the naval academy. i am trying to get you to look at this matter only from the personal and the class point of view. doubtless you all feel that mr. jetson is the victim of an unhappy temper. you would punish this frame of mind. yet i ask you, bluntly, who among you have ever tried to aid mr. jetson in overcoming his own peculiar style of temper? if there is one among you who has made such attempt at aid, i ask that gentleman to stand until he can be recognized." dave made a pause, glancing around him, but no midshipman rose. "now, sir," continued dave darrin, "if we, as a class, take hasty and unwise action, it is quite possible that we may be depriving the united states navy of a future officer who would be most valuable to his country in time of need. have we the right to punish when we are forced to admit that none of us has ever attempted to help mr. jetson to escape from the fruits of his temperament? mr. president, how would you attempt to extinguish a fire? by fanning it? yet, when a member of this class is smouldering in his own wrath, it is proposed to meet his sullenness by casting him out of our friendship. do we not owe some duty to our country in this matter? mr. jetson is one of our capable students in this brigade, and if he be given a fair chance to graduate, he is likely to become a naval officer of merit. do we desire to take upon ourselves the probable smothering of such a naval career? mr. president, and you, gentlemen of the second class, i trust sincerely that the motion of coventry in this case will not prevail. i feel, as i believe many of you now present feel, that we should be taking too much upon ourselves, and that we should be making a grave mistake. if the motion now before the class should be defeated, i shall then be delighted to second any other motion that has for its object the finding of some way to make mr. jetson feel more fully that he is one of us, that he has our full sympathy, and that we hope to see him mould his character into a form that will enable him to become a credit to the united states navy." as darrin sat down there was a ripple of applause. there were many present, however, who took a sterner view of the affair. these wanted to see jetson, and all others who might similarly offend the brigade, forced to quit the naval service. "question! question!" called a score of voices at once. "any further remarks?" inquired the class president, glancing about. "mr. president!" "mr. jerould." "mr. president," said midshipman jerould, "i am certain that we all appreciate the remarks of mr. darrin. the remarks were prompted by a generous heart, and we respect mr. darrin and his motives alike. but i am certain, sir, that the majority of us feel that this is an ugly business and that only stern treatment can meet the situation. i therefore trust that the motion will be at once put and passed." (loud cries of "hear! hear!") "any further--" "mr. president!" "mr. darrin." "mr. president, i wish i could throw my whole being and soul into this problem, in order to make it clearer, as i see it. i would even appeal, as a favor, to the class to quash this coventry resolution, and perhaps i might be considered to have some right to ask the favor, since the whole trouble grew out of an affair between mr. jetson and myself. i beg of you all, classmates, to quash the motion now before the class." "no, no, no!" came the hearty response. "then, mr. president and gentlemen," went on dave darrin in a voice slow and grave, "speaking for myself, as an individual member, i beg to state that i cannot respect a coventry ordered under such circumstances. in this matter i would find myself unable to respect the mandates of the class. therefore. i beg you to send me to coventry with mr. jetson!" blank astonishment fell over the second class. utter indignation seized some of the midshipmen. in another moment the feeling boiled up so that a few hisses rose. dave darrin was pallid, but he had no desire to recede. he had acted according to the dictates of his conscience and he had kept his word. in that pained instant midshipman farley sought to save the situation. he leaped to his feet, shouting: "mr. president, i move that this meeting adjourn!" "second the motion," called page promptly, and now there was uproar on all sides. chapter xix dave stands on principle a motion to adjourn being always "in order," the class president put it. "aye!" came a thundering response. "contrary minded?" "no." the ayes appeared to have it, but the chair called for a showing of hands. then the chair declared the class meeting adjourned. "hustle along with us, darry. i want to talk with you!" sputtered farley. he thrust an arm inside of dave's and carried him along, dalzell and page following. straight to darrin's quarters they went. "now, then," demanded farley, almost savagely, "what's the meaning of the very remarkable exhibition that you gave the class?" "how was it remarkable?" questioned dave. "in your asking the class to send you to coventry along with jetson." "it wasn't just to jetson, just because he made a slip, that he should be shunned by the whole class." "couldn't the class decide that better than one man?" insisted farley, his eyes gleaming. "without a doubt," dave admitted. "i didn't attempt to do the deciding for the class. all i did was to try to throw my personal weight against it." "and you compelled the class to adjourn without attending to jetson's case." "you're wrong, there, farl" "didn't you?" "i certainly didn't." "darry, you knew the class wouldn't vote to send you to coventry just because you had ventured to give your opinion. now, the only way the class could escape from the consequences of your action was to adjourn without action on jetson." "it was you, farl, who moved to adjourn." "just to save a lot of hot-bloods from jumping on you, darry. they'd have done it in another minute. the motion to adjourn was the only thing we could do." "that's just it," nodded midshipman page. "but there'll have to be another meeting called right away," farley went on. "the brigade will expect it--will have a right to demand it. a member of our class has insulted the whole brigade, and under our old traditions only the second class can administer discipline." "well, then," pursued darrin calmly, "when the new meeting is held jetson and myself can be punished, if that be the wish of the entire class." "darry," stormed farley, "you've simply got to withdraw your fool remarks when the class comes together again." "do you expect that i'll do that?" dave inquired. "if you don't," retorted farley warmly, "you won't be worth the further concern of your friends. what do you say, danny boy?" "from what i know of dave darrin," replied dalzell, "the class will be wasting its time if it expects darry to retract." "but what do you want to be sent to coventry for?" demanded farley. "i don't," dave answered. "i know how it hurts. i wouldn't see any midshipman here sent to coventry for anything except positive and undeniable dishonor. jetson hasn't been guilty of anything worse than a mean, quick temper and a fit of sulks afterwards. that's why, with my experience here at annapolis, if jetson is to be sent to coventry, i decline to be bound by the class action." "but you can't refuse to be bound by class action," retorted farley aghast. "try me and see," smiled dave stubbornly. "don't be an idiot, darry!" "it would be a contemptible thing," dave went on, as calmly as before. "coventry would mean the chasing of jetson out of the brigade. you would ruin a man for a defect of temper that some of you others don't possess in quite the same degree. is it fair to ruin any man because he has the misfortune to have a fit of sulks? that's why i won't heed the class action if it cuts jetson. i'll bow to him whenever i meet him. i'll talk to him if he'll let me." "but he won't," insisted farley triumphantly. "no such sulky fellow as jetson will let you make up to him." "if he refuses," dave contended, "then i can't help it. but i won't be a party to ruining the man. it would be far more to the purpose if the fellows would help the fellow to see that his sulkiness is his worst barrier here. then a good student and naturally honorable fellow would develop into a capable naval officer. "that's the kind of talk for the padre" (chaplain), sniffed farley. "glad you mentioned the padre," dave retorted. "he's just the man to settle the case. farley, i'll go with you to the padre at any time. you state one side of the case, and i'll state the other. if the padre doesn't back me, then i'll retract all i've said in open class meeting, and abide by whatever action the class may take." "oh, bother the padre!" snorted farley angrily. "all right, then," answered dave good-humoredly. "if the class has a matter of ethics and morals that it doesn't dare submit to an expert in morals, then the class action is weak and wrong." "there's no use talking to you, i'm afraid," sighed farley ruefully. "but if you--" here the call to study interrupted further discussion. farley, shaking his head gravely, left the room, followed by page, who was shaking his head with equal force. "if you think you're all right, david, little giant, go ahead," remarked dalzell as he passed to his study desk. "i think i'm right," dave answered. "if not, i can be made to see the light. i don't claim to know everything, but what i've done i did in an effort to see and do the right thing." when release from study came dalzell expected to see several members of the class drop in. to his astonishment the minutes sped by without any knock at the door. "you've gotten yourself in badly, dave," dan remarked at last. "the fellows don't even think it worth while to come here and remonstrate with you." "for which i'm thankful," darrin smiled. "danny boy, i'm going to bed without waiting for taps." by morning the news of dave's action at the class meeting was known throughout the brigade. as he strolled about for a few minutes, after breakfast, while dan went back to his room to do some hurried study, darrin noted that many once friendly faces were turned away from him. "good morning, hepson," was dave's greeting as his friend went by. "good morning," muttered hepson, and was gone. "good morning, watson," said dave to one of his own classmates. "'morning,' replied that midshipman briefly, and turned away. joyce, page and several other second classmen were standing in a group when dave strolled in their direction. "good morning, fellows," from dave. joyce and page answered; some of the others merely nodded coldly. presently all had strolled away except joyce and page. "you see how it is, darry," murmured joyce. "you've hurt the fellows." "are they going to cut me after this?" dave asked. his smile was friendly, though the look in his eyes was cool. "no-o-o," hesitated midshipman joyce. "i don't believe the fellows will exactly cut you; at least, not unless the situation grows more acute. but many of the fellows are sore on you for your words last night." "my words were only my words. my opinion doesn't have to govern anyone else, joyce." "but, hang it, darry, the class doesn't want to cut you out! can't you get that through your head?" "the class doesn't have to cut me." "but it will, if it puts jetson in coventry and you break the coventry. that's what the fellows hate to do to you, and that's why they're all so sore at you." "i see," nodded dave. "come, now, darry, you're going to be reasonable, aren't you?" begged joyce. "don't break your friends all up with your stubbornness." "i note that two of the fellows are talking with jetson," continued dave, letting his glance wander to another group. "they have a right to," contended joyce. "the class hasn't yet committed itself as to jetson." "darry, if you don't look out," warned page, "you'll precipitate matters. you may bring the storm down on jetson if you test the temper and stubbornness of an offended class." "i see that i was wrong in at least one particular," nodded dave thoughtfully. "i shouldn't have made any remark about my intentions. i should have confined myself to a plea for jetson. then, if the class had gone against my view i could have ignored the class action and have taken the consequences just the same." "oh, hang you!" cried page impulsively. "barry," begged midshipman joyce, resting a hand on his friend's arm, "don't do any more talking about this. just let things quiet down." "i'm perfectly willing to stop talking about it," agreed dave. "in fact, since the class adjourned its meeting i haven't said a word on the subject except in answer to some other fellow's remarks." page and joyce strolled away, leaving dave by himself to think matters over. as it happened, the two second classmen with whom jetson had been talking had now left the sulky midshipman, who, at this moment, was coming down the walk in dave's direction. "good morning, jetson," nodded dave pleasantly, though not too cordially. midshipman jetson paused a moment, looked darrin full in the eyes, and then passed on. "not promising material to work with, at first," dave told himself, laughingly. there was no time for further thought, for it was within two or three minutes for the first formation for morning recitations. dave ran back to his room, picked up a book and a writing pad. "how have the fellows been treating you, chum?" asked dalzell, looking up anxiously. "to a most liberal dose of advice," laughed darrin. dan sighed. "do you wish i'd take some of the advice, old fellow?" "i don't know that i do," dan answered slowly and with unwonted gravity for him. "i'm not one of the padre's star young men, and i don't often discourse on morality. yet i'm inclined to believe that, when a fellow goes contrary to the spirit of the crowd, and is satisfied that he is doing so from generous and manly motives, he is pretty likely to be pursuing the right course. after a fellow has made a real effort to listen to his conscience, i don't believe he is ever wrong in following it." "thank you, danny boy. that's always been the way it has struck me. i don't want to do any injustice to jetson--or to the class, either." "if you have to go to coventry," announced dalzell, giving a final brushing to his hair and fitting on his cap, "i'm going with you." "but you don't have to, dan! a fellow's roommate doesn't have to observe a coventry." "if it comes to coventry," muttered dalzell, "i shall invite it by speaking to jetson, too." dave darrin was aghast. he hadn't contemplated dragging dan into such a scrape. "there's formation now," announced dan. out in front of the entrance, and along the terrace the many sections were falling in. dan had occasion to pass the now very unpopular jetson. "good morning, jetson," was dan's greeting. jetson started slightly, then replied, with a sulky frown: "good morning, dalzell." "glad he'll speak to me," thought dan with an inward grimace, "for i'm afraid that, before long, i'll be in the way of feeling mighty lonely a good deal of the time." in another moment or two the sections were marching away, with the steady, rhythmic, tread peculiar to bodies of military in motion. "i wonder how it is all going to come out?" sighed dan, as he seated himself at his desk in the section room in the academic building. "i wonder what sort of crazy or calculating grandstand play darrin is trying to make just now?" pondered midshipman jetson, when informed of dave's action at the meeting. chapter xx "don't be a fool, darry!" a week went by without another class meeting. for that reason midshipman jetson was still nominally in good fellowship. the delay in action was by no means due to lack of class interest. the class seethed with interest in the affair, but with many of the midshipmen there was a belief that here was a case where slow and thoughtful consideration would be best for all concerned. darry was too good a fellow, and far too popular to be forced out of fellowship if it didn't have to be done to preserve the present feeling of ruffled class dignity. knowing that the matter hadn't been dropped, the first and third classes waited--in curiosity. the fourth class really had no standing in such weighty matters of the internal discipline of the brigade. every time that dave darrin passed jetson he spoke pleasantly to the latter. the sulky one, however, did not respond. "some day, darry, you'll tumble that you've been played for a fool," grumbled farley. "then i'll have the satisfaction, won't i, of knowing that it's all my own fault?" smiled dave darrin. "yes; but i hate to see you go to pieces for a fellow like jetson." the following saturday afternoon darrin came in from a brisk walk, to find dan poring over his books at the study desk. "letter there for you," said dan, without looking up, as dave, after glancing into the room, had turned with the intention of calling on farley and page. "thank you." darrin crossed the room, picking up the letter. "from belle," he remarked. "the second from her this week, and i haven't written her. answering letters should be part of a man's honor, so instead of cruising about on the deck, i reckon i'd better sit down and write belle." "what are you going to tell her?" asked dan quietly, without looking up. "hang it all!" grumbled dave. "this is where the situation begins to be tough. of course you understand how things are, danny boy, and you are aware that i have asked belle to take upon herself the right to be equally interested with me in my career." "it is tough," assented dan, with ready sympathy, and laying aside his book for the moment. "if my memory serves, belle asked particularly, when she was here, that you let her know how the jetson row turned out." "yes; she did." "and now you've got to tell her--what?" "have i got to tell her?" wondered darrin aloud. "yes; any other course would be unfair. but another question is, have i a right to tell her just what took place in a class meeting?" "i think so," spoke up dalzell. "of course, you needn't attempt to report the speeches, or anything like that, but it's rather clear to me that you have a right to tell belle the exact news so far as it affects you--and therefore her." "thank you." dave drew out stationery, picked up a pen and began to write. dalzell returned to his text-book. when dave had written the letter, he read to dan the portion that related to a description of the jetson matter before the class. "i think it's all right to send that much of a statement," nodded dan. "then i'm going to mail the letter at once, and it will go out to-night. belle tells me that she is extremely anxious to know the outcome of the matter. poor girl, i'm afraid my letter may be even worse than no news." "belle didn't betroth herself to the uniform or the navy, if i know her," returned dan quietly. dave went out and mailed the letter. it would not reach belle until monday morning. wednesday afternoon, on returning from the last recitation, dave found her answer on his study table. "want to hear a part of it, dan?" questioned midshipman darrin. "of course i do," admitted that young man. "listen, then," and dave read from belle's letter as follows: "'i won't attempt to say that i am not in the least worried or bothered over the turn the jetson matter has taken,'" ran belle's letter. "'i can't help feeling vitally interested in anything that concerns you. but you tell me that you have followed your own sense of honor and your own conscience in the matter. the best man that ever lived couldn't do better than that. i hope--oh, i _do_ hope--that the whole affair will turn out in some way that will not be disagreeable to you. but remember, dave, that the lightheaded little high school girl who plighted her faith to you is interested in you--not particularly in a future naval officer, necessarily. if the affair should go to the worst ending, and you find it advisable to resign from the naval academy on account of any class feeling, there are plenty of bright prospects in life for an honorable and capable man. don't ever imagine that i shall be disappointed over anything that you do, as long as you remain true to yourself and your manhood. and i will add, if you care to know it, that i approve of what you have done and am proud of you for your grit to do the right thing,'" "a great girl!" cried dan admiringly. "just the kind of girl, too, that i was sure she is." "just the same," commented dave musingly, "i know quite well that belle has set her heart on seeing me serve in the navy with credit." "she wanted that because she knew you wanted it," dan assured him. darrin was in the middle of his week's studies, where every minute's work counted, but he took the time to write an intense, if short, answer to belle's letter. that finished, and dropped in the mail-box, he went back to his room and began to study. rap-tap! farley slipped into the room. "thought i'd better come right away, darry," explained the caller. "the news won't keep. a class meeting is called for friday night right after supper. you know what that means, don't you?" "yes," dave answered steadily. "old fellow, we all hope to see you come back to yourself at the meeting," went on farley earnestly, resting a hand on dave's blue sleeve. "meaning that i should desert my convictions and bow to the class?" "yes; if you put it that way. darry, old friend, don't feel that you know more than the entire brigade." "i don't," dave answered. "then you'll drop the line of talk you started the other night?" "no." "darry, old friend!" "i haven't changed my mind. then, if i changed my attitude, wouldn't i be acting a false part?" "don't be, a prig, darry!" "be a knave instead, eh?" "darry, you ought to have been born a puritan!" "i'm glad i wasn't," dave smiled. "and are you enjoying yourself?" "no," dave answered seriously. "i'm not. neither is jetson. it is likely that the class may do a great injustice to us both." "why are you so struck on a fellow like jetson?" pursued the other midshipman. "i'm not," dave rejoined. "but i think, if he could be awakened, he has qualities that would make us all like him." "and you're going to throw yourself away on such thankless missionary work, darry?" "not at all. i'm acting on my best lights, as i see them for myself." "i'm sorry," sighed farley honestly. "and so am i. don't believe that i enjoy the situation that has been created." "that you've created for yourself, you mean!" "i see that you can't or you won't, understand it, farley." "i wish i could understand it!" quivered farley, who felt far more unhappy than he was willing that dave should see. in the end, farley returned to his own room, pondering deeply and trying to think out some plan of speech or of action that would save midshipman dave darrin from the class anger that seemed certain to come. after supper and just before study time was due, dave went to jetson's door and knocked. as he entered he found warner, the other midshipman quartered there, as well as jetson. "good evening, gentlemen," began dave, after he had stepped into the room and closed the door. "good evening, darrin," responded warner, while jetson merely scowled and picked up a book. "warner," went on dave, "i came here to have a brief talk with mr. jetson. would it be asking too much to ask you to step outside--unless mr. jetson feels that he would prefer that you remain?" "mr. jetson prefers that mr. warner remain, and that mr. darrin take himself away with great expedition," broke in jetson decisively. but warner thought differently, and, with a murmured "certainly, darrin," he left the room. "i won't ask you to take a seat, mr. darrin," said jetson, "because i'll be candid enough to say that i hope you won't remain long." "i don't need a seat," laughed dave easily, "for i've heard that the best americans transact their business on their feet. mr. jetson, i've come on a somewhat embarrassing mission." "yes?"--sneeringly. "you know quite well the snarl that is to be untied before the class meeting friday evening." "quite well," replied jetson sulkily. "it is a situation that i owe to the fact of having been acquainted with yourself, mr. darrin." "jetson," resumed dave, dropping the formal "mr.", "the situation is one that menaces you and your standing here. it menaces me equally. i could get myself out of the scrape quite easily by withdrawing from the stand that i took the other night." "i either fail or refuse to understand why you went to the risk that you did the other night, mr. darrin." "if i were to retract what i said," darrin added, "it would cause me to violate whatever respect i may have for right and justice. on the other hand, jetson, surely you do not consider yourself right in refusing an apology for a remark in which you thoughtlessly cast an unjust reflection upon the whole body of midshipmen." "to what is this leading, mr. darrin?" "jetson, your own sense of honor and justice surely tells you that you owe it to yourself to go before the meeting friday evening--" "i shall not attend, mr. darrin. the class may take whatever action it chooses in my absence." "jetson, you owe it to yourself, as well as to the class, to offer your apology for a remark that reflected upon the whole brigade. you can violate no feeling of honor or proper pride by such an apology. in fact, i do not see how you can justify yourself in withholding such apology for having expressed a sentiment which you know you did not mean in the way that the brigade has taken it." "my feelings on questions of honor cannot possibly concern you, mr. darrin." "on the contrary, your conduct does vitally concern me, jetson. if you do not make your apology the class will--well, you know what will happen." "yes, i know," jetson assented, his brow darkening. "and possibly you know what it means to me. by my own statement--and i cannot, in honor retract it, i shall be compelled to share coventry with you." "no, you won't sir!" retorted jetson, rising, his face ablaze with sulky anger. "you may go to coventry, mr. darrin, and welcome, but you shall not share mine with me. you shall not share anything whatever with me--not even the air of this room if i can prevail upon you to take yourself out of a room where you are not wanted. mr. darrin, i indulge myself in the honor of wishing you--good evening!" jetson crossed the room, threw open the door and bowed low. flushing, breathing quickly, dave darrin stepped out into the corridor and the door closed smartly behind him. chapter xxi midshipman jetson has the floor it was friday afternoon, and the last sections had been dismissed in front of bancroft hall. the balance of the afternoon belonged to the midshipmen, though most of them found it necessary to give the time to study. jetson was not one of the latter. always well up in his studies, he had no occasion to worry about daily markings or semi-annual examinations. he had not grown less sulky, but he found himself a victim of unusual restlessness. so he decided upon remaining out in the open air for the present. though actuated by a very different class of feelings, darrin, also, felt disinclined for books. he tried to study, for a few minutes, but gave it up and caught up his cap. the winter day being mild, he did not trouble himself to don his uniform overcoat. "going to slip your cable?" inquired dan, who was moored fast to a text-book. "yes; i feel the need of fresh air." "shove off, then!" dave went out quietly, dan gazing curiously after his friend until the door had closed behind him. "poor chap," muttered dan. "i reckon he has need enough of something to stop that restless feeling. the class meets to-night!" jetson, after some fifteen minutes of aimless wandering, felt himself attracted to the gymnasium. going inside, he went to his locker, where, with feverish energy, he changed to gym costume. for a few minutes the sulky one performed on the flying rings. he was an adept at this work, and something in the rapid motion soothed his troubled mind. tiring of the rings at last, jetson stood with folded arms, looking about him, until his eyes lighted with interest on the trapezes. one was up higher than the rest. drawn toward this one, jetson took hold of the climbing rope and drew himself up, hand over hand. seating himself on the bar, he sat looking about at the few other midshipmen who were exercising at that hour. "there comes that darrin fellow," thought jetson, with a sudden burst of rage. "wonder if he's going to work this afternoon? if he does, i'll put it all over him, even if i break my neck in the trying." back and forth swung jetson, getting up speed on the trapeze. then, suddenly, he threw his head downward, hanging on by his knees. an intentional slip, and he hung fully downward his ankles holding at the ends of the crossbar. folding his arms, jetson again began to swing as he hung head downward. among the midshipmen there were not so very many who were skillful at this form of exercise. jetson was, and he was secretly proud of it. "this will put the fellow darrin to the bad if he came in with any notion of showing off," thought the sulky one exultantly. now the other midshipmen turned to leave the gym. in a moment more the only two left were darrin and the man on the trapeze. in addition to the midshipmen there were two gym. attendants at some little distance. "who's doing that fine work?" wondered dave, stepping closer. "why, it's jetson! well, he has one accomplishment that i really envy him!" midshipman jetson was now going through some rapid evolutions, first hanging head downward, and then, after developing speed, raising himself and turning over the crossbar. it was really work of which any athlete might have been proud. "say, jim," muttered one attendant to the other, "that middie has me nervous for fair." "forget it," advised the other attendant, "it's the middie's neck, not yours." "but we took the net down that goes with that bar. suppose the young man should fall. he'd break his neck, and what could we say with the net gone?" "he's no business up there at this late hour in the afternoon," grumbled the other man. "that talk won't save us, either, if anything happens." jetson, filled with the desire to show off before the comrade he hated, had increased the speed of his brilliant flying movements. but suddenly he slipped. there was no regaining his grip. with a howl of fright he felt himself plunging head downward more than thirty feet to the hard floor of the gym. he was in a fair way of landing on his head, cracking his skull and breaking his neck. worse, in his sudden dread, he seemed to have lost control of his muscles. "turn! land on your feet!" called dave. it all happened in a second. dave, brief as the instant was, realized that the other midshipman was not going to land on his feet. in the same fleeting moment that darrin called he hurled himself into position. straight down shot jetson. dave waited, with outstretched arms, ready to risk his own neck in the effort to save his sulky comrade. from their end of the gym. the two startled attendants had watched the impending disaster, but there was no time for them to do anything. from the way that jetson fell it looked as though he had made a straight dive for dave darrin's head. at all events, their heads met in sharp collision. down went dave, as though shot, and jetson went with him, but darrin's outstretched arms had grasped the other's body, and jetson was saved the worst of his fall. now the two midshipmen lay where they had fallen, jetson lying somewhat across dave's motionless body. "they're killed!" yelled the attendant jim hoarsely. "we'll look 'em over first, before we give up," retorted the other attendant, stooping and gently rolling jetson over on his back. "sure they're killed, bob," protested jim huskily. "they met head on. you'll find that both middies have their skulls broken." "bring two pails of water, you chump," ordered bob. "i tell you, we won't raise a row until we've done the best we can for 'em." [illustration: straight down shot jetson.] the water was brought. under liberal dashes of it over his face and neck jetson soon opened his eyes. "i--i had a bad fall, didn't i?" he asked of the man nearest him. "you'd have broken your neck, sir, if mr. darrin hadn't jumped forward and broken the force of your fall." "i'd rather any other man had saved me," muttered the sullen one, slowly aiding himself to sit up. "how did mr. darrin do it?" "well, sir," responded bob, "he stopped you partly with his head, and it would have been broken, only he had his hands out and gripped you at the shoulders or trunk. it may be that his head was split as it was, but i hardly think so." two more liberal douses of water, and dave, too, opened his eyes. "is jetson all right?" was darrin's first question. "yes," muttered midshipman jetson, "and thanks to you, as i understand it." "oh, if you're all right, then i'm glad," responded dave. "bob, have you time to help me to stand up?" "how do you feel, sir?" asked bob, after he had complied and stood supporting midshipman darrin on his feet. "just a bit dizzy, bob; but that'll pass off in a moment. jetson, i'm glad to see you alive. not badly jolted, i hope?" jim was now aiding jetson to his feet. "do you want a surgeon, either of you?" asked bob. both midshipmen shook their heads. "i think i'll go over to one of the side seats," remarked darrin, and bob piloted him there, while jim aided jetson out to the shower room and locker. dave darrin soon conquered the dizzy feeling enough to stand up and walk without assistance. "i think i'll go, now," he told bob. "i don't believe there is anything that i can do for mr. jetson." "there is, sir, if you don't mind," interposed jim, striding up. "mr. jetson has just asked if you mind waiting for him." "my compliments to mr. jetson, and i shall be glad to wait for him." the sulky midshipman soon hove in sight, having donned his uniform. he came up to dave looking decidedly embarrassed. "mr. darrin, i fear i must thank you for having stopped my course to the floor," admitted jetson, with a sheepish grin. "i won't make it too hard to thank me," replied dave, with a smile. "i'll just say that you're wholly welcome." "but if you hadn't caught me in just the way that you did, your skull would have been smashed by the impact with my head. you risked your life for me, mr. darrin." "i didn't stop to think of that, at the time. at any rate, risking one's life goes with the naval service, doesn't it?" "it was a splendid thing for you to do, mr. darrin! may i walk along with you?" dave nodded. it was dark, now, and that portion of the yard appeared clear of any moving beings but themselves. "darrin," continued jetson, "when you risked coventry in the effort to save me from it, i thought you were posing, though for the life of me i couldn't fathom your motive. but the risk that you took this afternoon wasn't in the line of posing. do you mind telling me why you did it?" "i'd have done as much for any man in the brigade," dave answered frankly. "just the same it has touched me--touched me deeply." "i'm glad of that, jetson," dave answered heartily. "and now i hope that we can bury the hatchet and be friends, as men in the brigade should always be." "but why do you want to be friends with a fellow like me?" "because i want to know the real jetson--not the one that you present outside of a sulky exterior. jetson, i know there's gold in you, and i want to see it brought to the surface. i want your friendship because--well, it may be a selfish reason, but i think it's worth having." "that's a funny notion to take," laughed midshipman jetson uneasily. "i have never been conceited enough to fancy that my friendship was worth having." "let yourself out and be natural, man!" "how?" then indeed did dave darrin plunge into his subject. there was a lot to be said, but dave said it briefly, tersely, candidly. jetson listened with a flushing face, it is true, but at last he stopped and held out his hand. "will you take it, darrin?" "with all my heart!" there was chance for but little more talk, as now the slowly moving midshipmen were close to the entrance to bancroft hall. "you'll be at the class meeting this evening, won't you?" asked dave darrin. "you may be very sure that i shall!" then they entered the lobby of bancroft hall, parting and going their different ways. in darrin's eyes there was a strange flash as he turned down the "deck" on which he lived. but dan, still absorbed in study, did not pay especial heed to his roommate. immediately after supper in the mess-hall, dalzell caught his chum's arm. "let's get in early at the meeting, david, little giant. i'm afraid there's big trouble brewing, and we must both be on hand early. we may have some chance to talk a bit before the meeting is called to order." "i don't believe i shall care to talk any, danny boy, before the president raps." "don't be too stubborn, davy! your future will very likely be at stake to-night. your most dependable friends will be on hand and under arms for you. back 'em up!" at least half of the class was gathered when the chums entered. darrin looked about him, then took a seat. he watched the door until he saw midshipman jetson enter. rap, rap, rap! went the gavel at last. "gentlemen," announced the president, "there is some unfinished business before the meeting. at the last class meeting a motion was made and seconded that midshipman jetson be sent to coventry. any remarks that may be offered on that resolution will be in order now." dave darrin was on his feet in an instant. three or four men hissed, but dave appeared not to notice. "mr. president," dave began in a slow, steady voice, "this motion more closely affects mr. jetson than it does any other member of the class. i understand that mr. jetson has a few remarks to make." there was a murmur that ran around the room as jetson rose to his feet, claiming the chair's recognition. "mr. president and gentlemen," began jetson, his face pale and his words coming with effort, "i am not going to discuss the question of whether the class will or will not be justified in sending me to coventry. i have a duty to perform to-night, and i assure you that it comes hard, for my temper and pride have been beyond my control for a long time. i wish to make a most earnest apology for remarks of mine that were construed as being insulting to the members of the brigade. i further desire to make any statement, or any admission that will most quickly banish any sense of wrong coming from me. in doing so, i am moved to this proper course by my friend, mr. darrin!" chapter xxii the birth of a gentleman it wasn't a real bombshell that hit the class, of course, but the effect was almost as startling. first, there were murmurs, then a hubbub of voices, last of all a rousing cheer. in the midst of the excitement midshipman farley leaped to his feet. "mr. president!" he bellowed. but his voice did not carry ten feet from where he stood. "mr. president!" he yelled, louder than ever before. still the hubbub continued. farley leaped to the seat of his chair, turning and waving both arms frantically. any midshipman who had glanced toward the chair would have discovered that the occupant of the class chair was rapping hard with his gavel, though no sound of it was heard above the tumult. presently, however, farley's antics produced their effect. the noise gradually lessened. "mr. president!" essayed farley once more. "mr. farley has the floor!" shouted the class president hoarsely. "mr. president," went on farley, at the top of his voice, "class honor and that of the brigade have been satisfied by the direct, manly statement of mr. jetson. i move you, sir, that the motion now before this body be tabled, all further action dropped and the class meeting adjourned subject to call." "second the motion!" yelled page. "the motion to adjourn must follow the disposal of the first part of the motion," ruled the chair. "i accept the amendment," called farley. "i, also," assented page. "question! question!" "before putting the motion," continued the chair, "i desire to ask mr. jetson if he has fully considered his statement and the revised position that he has taken? since the matter affects the entire brigade, and not this single class, i feel that there should be no doubt, or any question to be raised later." "mr. president," announced jetson, when he had secured recognition, "i have retracted any offensive words that i may have uttered. i have attempted no justification of any of my words, but have made flat apology." "three cheers for jet!" shouted one impulsive midshipman. "any remarks?" questioned the chair. "mr. president!" "mr. darrin." "i do not see how mr. jetson's retraction or apology could be made any more explicit. i trust to see mr. farley's motion, seconded by mr. page, put to the vote and carried at once. i am wholly aware that i have incurred the class's displeasure (cries of 'no! no!') but i urge that whatever action may be taken regarding myself be deferred until after mr. jetson has been restored to the fullest measure of class and brigade fellowship." "any further remarks?" questioned the class president, when darrin had seated himself. "if not, i will state the motion." a few "nays" succeeded the great chorus of "ayes," and the motion of coventry for jetson was declared tabled. "any further action?" demanded the chair. "move we adjourn!" called farley. "second the motion!" seconded page. the motion was put and carried without dissent then, amid the greatest jollity, the meeting was declared adjourned. there was a rush of at least twenty men to shake hands with jetson, who, with flushed but pleased face, bore his honors as modestly as he could. "what on earth came over you, jet?" demanded joyce bluntly. "it would be a long story about darrin," replied midshipman jetson. "he had the grace to show me that i was a constitutional ass, with perhaps some slight chance of being reborn. to make it short, darrin persuaded me to come before the class, eat humble pie and set myself right with myself, even if i couldn't with the class." "it was beautifully done, jet," murmured page, who was tremendously grateful at seeing dave darrin rescued from sacrificing himself to a principle. "if any of you fellows catch me in the sulks hereafter," spoke up jetson, though he winced as he said it, "i hope the man who catches me will do me the very great favor of passing me a few sound kicks before others have a chance to catch me to the bad." "bully for you--you're all right, jet!" called several warmly. fully half of the class members had left the room by this time. dan dalzell, who had been thunderstruck, and who was now full of questions, was being urged out of the room by dave. "so darry converted you, did he?" laughed joyce. "bully for darry. why, that great and good fellow dared the class to send him to coventry after it got through with you. he accused the class of kicking a man without giving that man a chance to get up on his feet." "it's a good deal like darrin," remarked jetson, his eyes a trifle misty, "though it took me a thundering long time to realize that darrin was really of that kind." "how did it happen, any way?" insisted farley. "you've heard nothing about it?" "not a word--not a hint," protested page eagerly. there were less than twenty of the midshipmen now remaining in the room, so jetson did not feel as embarrassed as he might have done had he been called upon to give the recital before a class meeting. he told his listeners the story of dave's splendid conduct in the gym. that afternoon, and of the talk that had followed the reconciliation of the enemies. "that was like good old darry again," remarked farley proudly. "no fellow has a warmer temper than darry when he's aroused to righteous anger, but no fellow has a more generous temper at all times." "let's go down and jump in on darry, all hands!" proposed joyce. "listen!" warned farley. study call! that took the young men hastily to their regular academic duties. "one thing this business has done," remarked midshipman farley, looking up from his books. "i'll be the goat," murmured page. "darry has always been somewhat the leader of the class, ever since the fellows began to find him out, back in the first year here. but this last business has boosted dave darrin unmistakably and solidly now into the post of leader of the class." "we're safe, then!" retorted page. "darry won't lead us into any trouble!" the realization that midshipman dave darrin was assured leader of the second class was not long in coming to most of the other men of the class. yet dave did not seek the post, nor did he attempt to do any actual leading. he still considered himself as possessing one voice, and one only, in the class councils. if dave was leader, dan dalzell, both by reflected glory and by virtue of his own sterling merits as well, shared the leadership with dave to a great extent. dan's power might have gone further than it did had it not been for the fact that he was so full of mischief as to leave his comrades often in doubt as to whether he were really serious in what he said and did. chapter xxiii "bagged," and no mistake "plebes flint and austin are having a good many callers," remarked dave darrin, halting by the door of quarters before he and dan entered. "sure! aren't you wise?" inquired dan, with a wink. "i think so," murmured dave. "the callers all seem to be third classmen." "of course; they're putting the rookies through their paces." "surest thing!" murmured dalzell without excitement. "but this is march. isn't it a rather late time in the year to be still hounding the poor new men?" "i don't know," mused dalzell. "it may be that mr. flint and mr. austin are unusually touge." "touge" is annapolis slang for "fresh." it corresponds closely to the "b j" of west point. a sound as of protest came from behind a closed door at the further end of the deck. "i hope our youngsters aren't going too far," dave remarked, "youngster" being the accepted term for the third classmen, and the same as "yearling" at west point. "well, it's none of our business," replied dan, with a shrug of his shoulders. "study call will be along in fifteen minutes. going to get an early start with the books to-night?" "i guess that will be wise," darrin nodded. "it surely will." the rest of the winter had gone along rather uneventfully, save for the inevitable, overpowering amount of grind through which a midshipman must pass. it was now spring, and midshipmen thoughts were divided between two topics--annual exams, and summer cruise. dan had started into the room, and dave was about to follow, when he heard an unusually loud thud at the further end of the deck. "danny boy, the plebes must be getting it hard to-night." "i'd like to see the fun," muttered dalzell, his eyes snapping with mischief. "but it doesn't seem to be any of our business. hazing work is left in charge of the youngster crowd." "yes; a second classman shouldn't interfere," assented dave. "well, study for ours." "i'm afraid i'm not as studious as i was a minute ago," contended dan, with a grin. dave looked almost startled as he seized his chum by the arm. "inside with you, danny boy!" "not under compulsion," laughed midshipman dalzell. "i'll condescend to coaxing, then. but don't anger the youngsters by butting in." "and why not? an upper classman has a right to step in, if he wishes." "it is, at least, against the rules of good taste to interfere," argued darrin. "well, hang you, i don't want to interfere. all i want to do is to look on. can't an upper classman do that?" "i won't," returned dave. yet almost immediately he changed his mind, for two hard bumps and a gust of laughter swept up the deck. "they're making so much racket," murmured dave, lingering by his own door, "that, the first thing we know, a duty officer will swoop down and rag the bunch." "let's go in, then, as grave and dignified second classmen, and warn the youngsters like daddies," proposed dan, but his eyes were twinkling with the spirit of mischief. a good deal against his own inclination darrin allowed himself to be coaxed into the thing. nine youngsters were found in midshipmen flint and austin's room when dave and dan entered after rapping. "we're not intruding, i hope?" inquired dalzell, with his most inviting grin. "not at all, gentlemen," responded midshipman eaton, of the third class. "these fourth classmen seemed unwontedly popular to-night," insinuated dan. "they've been most uncommonly touge all through the year, sir," replied eaton, tacking on the "sir" in order to impress midshipmen flint and austin with the tremendous dignity or all upper classmen. "what form does their tougeness take?" dan wanted to know. "they have not yet learned the respect that is due to upper classmen, sir." "and especially to third classmen?" inquired dan, now without the flicker of a smile. "they are especially touge, sir, with third classmen." "and you are showing them the error of their ways?" "we are trying to do so, sir." "i thought so, from the noise we heard," pursued dalzell. "if you have any better ways, mr. dalzell, we shall be glad to profit from your riper experience, sir," suggested midshipman eaton. "no; i've forgotten almost everything that i ever knew in that line," remarked dan. "mr. darrin, sir?" suggested eaton, turning to the other second classman present. "i have nothing to suggest," replied dave slowly, "unless--" then he paused. "unless--sir?" followed up midshipman eaton. "no; i won't say it. it might give offense," darrin responded. "have no fear of that, mr. darrin," urged eaton. "all i was going to suggest, eaton, was that this is the month of march." "yes, sir?" inquired eaton wonderingly. "when dalzell and i were fourth classmen we weren't troubled at all by the youngsters after christmas. last year, eaton, our class didn't bother yours at any later date, either." some of the youngsters present began to look embarrassed, though dave's tone had been quiet and free from rebuke. "but, sir, don't imagine that we're doing anything to the plebes for our own amusement," protested eaton. "this is the only pair of the fourth class left that need any attention from our class. these two young misters are the tougest lot we've had to deal with. in fact, sir, they're ratey!" "still," rejoined dan dalzell, "i think you are keeping it up pretty late in the year, even if they are ratey." a midshipman who is "ratey," as has been explained in an earlier volume, is a much greater offender than a midshipman who is merely touge. for a ratey fourth classman makes the foolish blunder of considering himself as good as an upper classman. "of course," suggested dan, making haste to smooth over any astonishment that his own and his chum's remarks might have caused, "we don't propose to instruct the members of the third class in the way they shall perform their duties toward the members of the fourth. don't let us interfere with you, mr. eaton." "by no means," murmured dave darrin, smiling. "we don't wish to intrude." "but wait just one moment gentlemen," begged eaton. "we want you to see for yourselves how effectively we are smoothing the touge creases out of these baby midshipmen." during the discussion flint and austin had been standing at one side of the room, looking decidedly sheepish. both had their blouses off, though neither had been required to take off his collar. the trousers of the two fourth classmen were rather liberally overlaid with dust, showing that they must have been performing some rough stunts on the floor. "step over to that, basin, mister," ordered youngster eaton, eyeing flint, who promptly obeyed. "now, mister, stand on your head in that bowl," commanded midshipman eaton. looking doubly red and uncomfortable, with these two grave-looking second classmen present, flint bent down, attempting to stand on his head in the bowl of water, while he tried, at the same time to push his feet up the wall, thus standing on his head. twice flint essayed the feat and failed, splashing a good deal of water over the floor. then, for the third time, flint tried the performance. this time he succeeded, but his two previous failures had provoked such a storm of laughter that no man present heard a cautious rap on the door. the next instant that door was flung open and lieutenant preston stepped into the room. with the entrance of that discipline officer half of the midshipmen present wheeled about, then, startled as they were, did not forget to come to attention. "hm!" said lieutenant preston, at which the other half heard and came to attention. flint, whether too scared, or perhaps enjoying the discomfiture of his tormentors, made no effort to return to normal position. "what's your name, sir?" thundered the discipline officer, glaring fiercely at midshipman flint. "flint, sir," replied the fourth classman in a gasp. "bring your feet down and come to attention, sir!" flint obeyed. during this time lieutenant preston had stood so that no midshipman in the room could slip by him into the corridor. "i will now take the names of the gentlemen present," went on the discipline officer, drawing a notebook and pencil from an inner pocket and commencing to write. "all except the fourth classmen present will at once fall in by twos outside," commanded lieutenant preston, closing the notebook and slipping it away. "midshipmen flint and austin will mend their appearances as speedily as possible and then form the last file outside." "wow!" whispered dan in his chum's ear outside. "talk about the fifty-seven varieties! we're in all the pickles!" "yes," murmured dave. "what are you going to do about it, davy?" "take my medicine," dave replied. "but we weren't really in the thing." "danny boy, never get out of a thing, or try to, by playing cry baby!" "no danger," retorted dalzell. "david, little giant, we'll just console ourselves with the realization that we're in the worst scrape we ever struck yet." "yes," nodded dave. fourth classmen flint and austin were not long in making themselves presentable. then they fell in at the rear of the line. "squad, forward march!" commanded the discipline officer dryly. through the corridor and off that deck the little squad of thirteen midshipmen marched. never had thirteen been more unlucky, for the present superintendent was known to be a man determined to stamp out hazing. nor did the affair remain a secret for more than a moment midshipmen returning to their own decks stepped to the wall to let the squad pass. nor was more than a look at the two rear fourth classmen needed to enable any wondering midshipmen to guess the nature of the offense with which the remaining eleven upper classmen were to be charged. "our darry in that!" gasped farley, as the squad went by. "did you see him?" "yes," page mournfully admitted. "then my eyes didn't play me any trick, as i had hoped. darry and dalzell! what evil spirit tempted them to be in that scrape?" in the meantime lieutenant preston was arraigning the captured delinquents before the officer in charge, and the commandant of midshipmen had already been telephoned for and was on the way. study call cut short a good deal of excited discussion on the different decks. the commandant of midshipmen arrived, heard the evidence of the discipline officer, looked over the offenders, entered their names on his own record, and then spoke briefly, but in the voice of fate itself: "the accused midshipmen will go to their rooms. they will, until further orders, remain in their quarters, except for recitations and meal formation. they will forego all privileges until the superintendent or higher authority has acted finally in this matter. that is all, young gentlemen. go to your rooms, except midshipmen flint and austin, who will remain." as soon as the upper classmen had departed, the commandant took flint and austin in hand, questioning them keenly and making notes of the more important answers. back in their own rooms, midshipman dan dalzell was at first overwhelmed with horror. "we're dished, davy! we walk the plank! the super won't forgive a single man who is caught at the royal pastime of hazing! i'm going to write, now, for the money to get home with. you know, in the last two affairs, the hazers have been dismissed from the naval academy." "yes," dave nodded. "it looks black for us. but keep a stiff tipper lip, danny boy." "it's all my own miserable fault!" uttered dalzell, clenching his fists, while tears tried to get into his eyes. "you've got me to blame for this, davy! it was all my doing. i insisted on dragging you down to that room, and now you've got to walk the plank, all because of my foolishness! oh, i'm a hoodoo!" "stop that, danny!" warned dave, resting a hand on his chum's arm. "i didn't have to go, and you couldn't have made me do it. i wouldn't have gone if i hadn't wanted to. i'm not going to let even you rest the blame for my conduct on your shoulders." finally the chums went to study table. "what's the use!" demanded dan, closing a book after he had opened it. "we don't need to study. we've got to walk the plank, at any rate, and all the study we do here for the next day or two is so much time wasted!" "we may walk the plank," retorted dave. "in fact, i feel rather certain that we shall. but it hasn't happened yet danny boy, open that book again, and open it at the right page. study until recall, and work harder than you ever did before. you know all about that old-time navy man who said, 'don't give up the ship!'" they studied, or manfully pretended to, until release sounded. how much they learned from their books that night may have been a different matter. chapter xxiv conclusion by the next day it was generally conceded among the midshipmen that the ranks of the brigade were about to be thinned as a result of the last hazing episode. nor did the third class generally uphold eaton and his youngster associates in the affair of the night before. "they were out for trouble, and they got it," declared one third classman. "the rest of us let up on all hazing before christmas." in some underground way farley and page heard the straight story concerning dave and dan; how the two upper classmen had gone to the room and darrin had entered a mild protest against the hazing. though it was against regulations to visit them confined to their quarters, farley took the chance and got a few words with dave. "darry, don't let anyone trim you for what you didn't do," begged midshipman farley. "go straight to the com.; tell him that you and dan had just entered the room to see what was going on, and that you had just made a protest against the hazing." "nothing doing there, farl," dave gently assured his friend. "we were present and we really had no business to be. we wouldn't make ourselves look any more manly by crying when the medicine is held out to us." "but you did protest," urged farley anxiously. "stand up for your own rights, darry. remember, i'm not counseling you to lie, or to make any stretched claims. that would be unworthy of you. but tell the full truth in your own defense." "dan and i will truthfully answer all questions put to us by competent officers," dave replied gravely. "farl, that is about all we can do and keep our self-respect. for, you understand, we were there, and we knew just about what we were going to look in on before we crossed the threshold of that room." "but we can't lose you from the brigade, darry," pleaded farley hoarsely. "nor can the people of this country spare you from the navy of the future. stick up for all your rights. that's all your friends ask of you. remember, man, you're nearly three fourths of the way through to graduation! don't let your fine chances be sacrificed." dave, however, still maintained that he was not going to play baby. in dismay some forty members of the second class held an unofficial outdoor meeting at which ways and means were suggested. in the end joyce, farley and page were appointed a committee of three to think the matter over solemnly, and then to go to the commandant of midshipmen with whatever statement they felt justified in making. at the earliest possible moment the three waited outside the door of the commandant's office, after having sent in their cards and a message as to why they desired to see the commandant. "well, gentlemen," began the commandant briskly, "i understand that you want to see me in reference to the last hazing outrage. what have you to say?" "we come in behalf of two members of our own class, sir," spoke up farley. "hm! what do you expect to be able to say for midshipmen darrin and dalzell? they do not attempt to deny the fact that they were present at the hazing, and that they were at least looking on when lieutenant preston entered the room." "may i inquire, sir," replied farley very respectfully, "whether either mr. darrin or mr. dalzell have stated that mr. darrin had just entered a protest against the hazing, and that they had made the protest just before lieutenant preston went into the room?" "no; such a statement has not been made by either mr. darrin or mr. dalzell," admitted the commandant. "are you sure that mr. darrin did protest?" "i can only say, sir," replied farley, "that i have been so informed. i also know, from mr. darrin's own lips, that he has refused to inform you that he made such a protest." "why?" shot out the commandant, eyeing mr. farley keenly. "because, sir, mr. darrin feels that he would be doing the baby act to enter such a defense." "and so has commissioned you to appear for him?" "no, sir," returned farley almost hotly. "in fact, sir, i believe mr. darrin would be very angry if he knew what i am doing and saying at this moment. this committee, sir, was appointed by some forty members of the second class, sir, who are familiar with the facts. we have been sent to you, sir, by our classmates, who are frantic at the thought of losing the finest fellow in the class." "i thank you, gentlemen," said the commandant, in a tone which signified the polite dismissal of the committee. "i will keep in mind what you have told me." the investigation was being carried on daily. all of the third class offenders were put on carpet more than once. at the next session with the youngsters the commandant questioned them as to the truth of the statement that darrin had tried to protest against the hazing. "why, yes, sir," eaton admitted, "mr. darrin did say something against what we were doing." "as an upper classman, did mr. darrin order you to stop?" "no, sir," eaton admitted; "he didn't command us to stop." "what did mr. darrin say?" "i can't state with accuracy, now, sir, just what mr. darrin did say to us." "did he disapprove of your acts?" "yes, sir. i am very certain that he made every third classman present feel uncomfortable." "then whatever mr. darrin's words were, they had the effect, if not the exact form, of a rebuke against your conduct?" pressed the commandant. "yes, sir," replied midshipman eaton with great positiveness. eaton's companions in the hazing all bore him out in the statement. the commandant of midshipmen then took up the matter of their testimony with the superintendent of the naval academy. after six days of confinement to quarters, darrin and dalzell were ordered to report before the commandant. with that officer they found the superintendent also. it was the latter officer who spoke. "mr. darrin and mr. dalzell, on the testimony of others, not of yourselves, we have learned that mr. darrin had just entered a rebuke against the hazing before lieutenant preston entered the room in which the hazing was taking place. we have this on such general assurance that both the commandant and myself feel warranted in restoring you to full duty and privileges. at the same time, mr. darrin, i desire to thank you for your manliness and attention to duty in entering a protest against the hazing." "i thank you very much, sir," dave darrin answered. "however, much as i long to remain in the navy, i do not want to hide behind a misunderstanding. while i spoke against the hazing, candor compels me to admit that i did not protest so vigorously but that more hazing went on immediately." "that i can quite understand," nodded the superintendent. "i am aware of the disinclination of the members of one upper class to interfere with the members of another upper class. the fact that you made a protest at all is what has convinced me that yourself and mr. dalzell were in the room at the time with a worthy instead of an unworthy motive. worthy motives are not punished at the naval academy, mr. darrin. for that reason yourself and mr. dalzell are restored to full duty and privileges. that is all, gentlemen." thus dismissed, dave and dan could not, without impertinence, remain longer in the room. there was wild joy in the second class when it was found that the class leaders, darrin and dalzell, had escaped from the worst scrape they had been in at annapolis. eaton, hough and paulson, of the third class, proved to have been the ringleaders in the hazing. they were summarily dismissed from the naval academy, while the other six youngsters implicated in the affair all came in for severe punishments that fell short of dismissal. after that matters went on smoothly enough for the balance of the term. dave, dan, joyce, farley, page, jetson and all their closest intimates in the class succeeded in passing their annual examinations. jetson, in addition, had made good in his new role of amiable fellow. as these young men, now new first classmen, stood on the deck of a battleship, watching the naval academy fade astern, at the beginning of the summer cruise, dave darrin turned to his friends, remarking wistfully: "fellows, if we get through one more year of it without falling down, we shall then be putting to sea once more, and then as graduated midshipmen, afloat in our effort to win our ensign's commissions!" how did they come out? the answer must be deferred to the next and last volume of this series, which is published under the title, "dave darrin's fourth year at annapolis; or, headed for graduation and the big cruise." the end peggy stewart navy girl at home by gabrielle e. jackson author of "silver heels," "three graces" series, "capt. polly" series, etc. with frontispiece by norman rockwell 1920 this little story of annapolis is most affectionately inscribed to h.w.h. whose sunny soul and cheery voice helped to make many an hour happy for the one he called "little mother" contents chapter i. springtide ii. the empress iii. "daddy neil" iv. in october's days v. polly howland vi. a friendship begins vii. peggy stewart: chatelaine viii. a shocking demonstration of intemperance ix. dunmore's last christmas x. a domestic episode xi. playing good samaritan xii. the spice of pepper and salt xiii. the masqueraders' show xiv. off for new london xv. regatta day xvi. the race xvii. shadows cast before xviii. you've spoiled their tea party xix. back at severndale chapter i springtide "peggy, maggie, mag, margaret, marguerite, muggins. hum! half a dozen of them. wonder if there are any more? yes, there's peggoty and peg, to say nothing of margaretta, gretchen, meta, margarita, keta, madge. my goodness! is there any end to my nicknames? i mistrust i'm a very commonplace mortal. i wonder if other girls' names can be twisted around into as many picture puzzles as mine can? what do you think about it shashai!" [footnote: shashai. hebrew for noble, pronounced shash'a-ai.] and the girl reached up both arms to draw down into their embrace the silky head of a superb young colt which stood close beside her; a creature which would have made any horse-lover stop stock-still and exclaim at sight of him. he was a magnificent two-year-old kentuckian, faultless as to his points, with a head to set an artist rhapsodizing and a-tingle to put it upon his canvas. his coat, mane and tail were black as midnight and glossy as satin. the great, lustrous eyes held a living fire, the delicate nostrils were a-quiver every moment, the faultlessly curved ears alert as a wild creature's. and he was half wild, for never had saddle rested upon his back, girth encircled him or bit fretted the sensitive mouth. a halter thus far in his career had been his only badge of bondage and the girl caressing him had been the one to put it upon him. it would have been a bad quarter of an hour for any other person attempting it. but she was his "familiar," though far from being his evil genius. on the contrary, she was his presiding spirit of good. just now, as the splendid head nestled confidingly in her circling arms, she was whispering softly into one velvety ear, oh, so velvety! as it rested against her ripe, red lips, so soft, so perfect in their molding. the ear moved slightly back and forth, speaking its silent language. the nostrils emitted the faintest bubbling acknowledgment of the whispered words. the beautiful eyes were so expressive in their intelligent comprehension. "too many cooks spoil the broth, shashai. too many grooms can spoil a colt. too many mistresses turn a household topsy-turvy. how about too many names, old boy? can they spoil a girl? but maybe i'm spoiled already. how about it?" and a musical laugh floated out from between the pretty lips. the colt raised his head, whinnied aloud as though in denial and stamped one deer-like, unshod fore-hoof as though to emphasize his protest; then he again slid his head back into the arms as if their slender roundness encompassed all his little world. "you old dear!" exclaimed the girl softly, adding: "eh, but it's a beautiful world! a wonderful world," and broke into the lilting refrain of "wonderful world" and sang it through in a voice of singularly, haunting sweetness. but the words were not those of the popular song. they had been written and set to its air by peggy's tutor. she seemed to forget everything else, though she continued to mechanically run light, sensitive fingers down the velvety muzzle so close to her face, and semi-consciously reach forth the other hand to caress the head of a superb wolfhound which, upon the first sweet notes, had risen from where she lay not far off to listen, thrusting an insinuating nose under her arm. she seemed to float away with her song, off, off across the sloping, greening fields to the broad, blue reaches of bound bay, all a-glitter in the morning sunlight. she was seated in the crotch of a snake-fence running parallel with the road which ended in a curve toward the east and vanished in a thin-drawn perspective toward the west. there was no habitation, or sign of human being near. the soft march wind, with its thousand earthy odors and promises of a maryland springtide, swept across the bay, stirring her dark hair, brushed up from her forehead in a natural, wavy pompadour, and secured by a barrette and a big bow of dark red ribbon, the long braid falling down her back tied by another bow of the same color. the forehead was broad and exceptionally intellectual. the eyebrows, matching the dark hair, perfectly penciled. the nose straight and cleancut as a greek statue's. the chin resolute as a boy's. the teeth white and faultless. and the eyes? well, peggy stewart's eyes sometimes made people smile, sometimes almost weep, and invariably brought a puzzled frown to their foreheads. they were the oddest eyes ever seen. peggy herself often laughed and said: "my eyes seem to perplex people worse than the elephant perplexed the 'six blind men of hindustan' who went to see him. no two people ever pronounce them the same color, yet each individual is perfectly honest in his belief that they are black, or dark brown, or dark blue, or deep gray, or sea green. maybe nature designed me for a chameleon but changed her mind when she had completed my eyes." peggy stewart would hardly have been called a beautiful girl gauged by conventional standards. her features were not regular enough for perfection, the mouth perhaps a trifle too large, but she was "mightily pleasin' fer to study 'bout," old mammy insisted when the other servants were talking about her baby. "oh, yes," conceded martha harrison, the only white woman besides peggy herself upon the plantation. "oh, yes, she's pleasing enough, but if her mother had lived she'd never in this world a-been allowed to run wild as a boy, a-getting tanned as black as a--a, darky." martha was a most devoted soul who had come from the north with her mistress when that lady left her new england home to journey to maryland as commander stewart's bride. he was only a junior lieutenant then, but that was nearly eighteen years before this story opens. she had not seen many colored people while living in the massachusetts town in which she had been born and her experience with them was limited to the very few who, after the civil war, had drifted into it. of the true southern negro, especially those of the ante-bellum type, she had not the faintest conception. it had all been a revelation to her. the devotion of the house servants to their "white folks," to whom so many had remained faithful even after liberation, was a never-ending source of wonder to the good soul. nor could she understand why those old family retainers stigmatized the younger generations as "shiftless, no-account, new-issue niggers." that there could be marked social distinctions among these colored people never occurred to her. that generations of them had been carefully trained by master and mistress during the days of slavery, and that the younger generations had had no training whatever, was quite beyond martha's grasp. colored people were colored people, and that ended it. but as the years passed, martha learned many things. she had her own neatly-appointed little dining-room in her own well-ordered little wing of the great, rambling colonial house which peggy stewart called home, a house which could have told a wonderful history of one hundred eighty or more years. we will tell it later on. we have left peggy too long perched upon her snake-fence with shashai and tzaritza. the lilting song continued to its end and the dog and horse stood as though hypnotized by the melody and the fingers' magnetic touch. then the song ended as abruptly as it had begun and peggy slid lightly from her perch to the ground, raised both arms, stretching hands and fingers and inclining her head in a pose which would have thrilled a teacher of "esthetic posing" in some fashionable, faddish school, though it was all unstudied upon the girl's part. then she cried in a wonderfully modulated voice: "oh, the joy, joy, joy of just being alive on such a day as this! of being out in this wonderful world and free, free, free to go and come and do as we want to, shashai, tzaritza! to feel the wind, to breathe it in, to smell all the new growing things, to see that water out yonder and the blue overhead. what is it, dr. llewellyn says: 'to thank the lord for a life so sweet.' we all do, don't we? _i_ can put it into words, or sing it, but you two? yes, you can make god understand just as well. let's all thank him together--you as he has taught you, and i as he has taught me. now:" it was a strange picture. the girl standing there in the beautiful early spring world, her only companions a thoroughbred, half-wild kentucky colt and a russian wolfhound, literally worth their weight in gold, absolutely faultless in their beauty, and each with their wonderfully intelligent eyes fixed upon her. at the word "now," the colt raised his perfect head, drew in a deep breath and then exhaled it in a long, trumpet-like whinny. the dog voiced her wonderful bell-like bay; the note of joy sounded by her kind when victory is assured. the girl raised her head, and parting her lips gave voice to a longdrawn note of ecstasy, ending in a little staccato trill and the same upflinging of the arms. it was all a rhapsody of springtide, the semi-wild things' expression of intoxicating joy at being alive and their absolute mutual harmony. the animals felt it as the girl did, and surely god acknowledged the homage. such spontaneous, sincere thanks are rare. "let's go now." the horse's slender flanks quivered; his withers twitched with the nervous energy awaiting an outlet; the dog stood alert for the first motion. resting one hand upon those sensitive withers the girl gave a quick spring, landing lightly as thistledown astride the colt's back, holding the halter strap in her firm, brown fingers. her costume was admirably adapted to this equestrian if somewhat unusual feat for a young lady. it consisted of a dark blue divided riding skirt of heavy cloth, and a midshipman's jumper, open at the throat, a black regulation neckerchief knotted sailor-fashion on her well-rounded chest. anything affording freer action could hardly have been designed for her sex. and a bonny thing she looked as she sat there, the soft wind toying with the loose hairs which had escaped their bonds, and bringing the faintest rose tint into her cheeks. it was still too early in the spring for the clear, dark skin to have grown "black as a darky's." "on to the end of nowhere!" she cried. "we'll beat you to the goal, tzaritza. go!" at the word the colt sprang forward with an action so true, so perfect that he and the girl seemed one. the dog gave a low bark like a laugh at the challenge and with incredibly long, graceful leaps circled around and around the pair, now running a little ahead, then executing a wide circle, and again darting forward with that derisive bark. shashai's speed was not to be scorned--his ancestors held an international fame for swiftness, endurance and jumping--but no horse can compete with a wolfhound. on, on they sped, the happiest, maddest, merriest trio imaginable, down the road to the point where the perspective seemed to end it but where in reality it turned abruptly, leaving the one following its course the choice of taking a sudden dip down to the water's edge or wheeling to the right and leaping "brake, bracken and scaur." the girl did not tighten her single guiding strap, she merely bent forward to speak softly into one ear laid back to catch the words: "right--turn!" just beyond was a high fence dividing the lane where it crossed two estates. it was surmounted by a stile of four steps. there was no pause in the colt's or dog's speed. tzaritza cleared it like a--wolfhound. shashai with his rider skimmed over like a bird, landing upon the soft turf beyond with scarcely a sound. oh, the beauty of it all! then on again through a patch of woodland which looked as though a huge gossamer veil had been laid over it. if ever pastelle colors were displayed to perfection nature here held her exhibition. soft pinks, pale blues, silver grays, the tenderest greens with here and there a touch of the maple buds' rich mahogany reds, and above and about the maddest melody of bird songs from a hundred throats. as the horse swung along in his perfect gait, the great dog making playful leaps and feinted snaps at his beautiful muzzle with a dog's derisive smile and sense of humor, and if any one doubts that dogs have this quality they simply don't know the animal, the girl sang at the top of her voice. they covered the ground with incredible swiftness and presently the lane grew broader, giving evidence of more traffic where a wood road crossed it at right angles. just a little beyond this point an old gentleman appeared in sight. he was walking with his hands clasped behind him and his head bent to examine every foot of the roadway. evidently he was too absorbed to be aware of the trio bearing down upon him. he wore the clerical garb of the church of england, and his face would have attracted attention in any part of the world, it was so pure, so refined, so like a cameo in its delicacy of outline, and the skin held the wonderful softness and clearness we sometimes see in old age. he must have been over seventy. just then he became aware of the colt's light hoofbeats and looked up. he was tall and slight but very erect, and his face lighted up with a smile absolutely illuminating as he recognized his approaching friends. the girl bent forward to say: "one bell, shashai." whereupon her mount slackened his gait to the gentlest amble, but the dog went bounding on to greet the newcomer. first she dropped down at his feet, burying her nose in her forepaws as though to make obeisance, but at his words: "ah, tzaritza! good tzaritza, welcome!" she instantly sprang up, rested her forepaws upon his shoulders, and looked into his face with the most limpid pair of eyes ever seen; eyes filled with something deeper than human love can ever summon to human eyes, for those have human speech to supplement their appeal. "tzaritza. dear, faithful tzaritza," said the old man in the tenderest tone as he caressed the magnificent, silky head now nestling against his face as a child's might have nestled. "good dog. good dog. but here are peggy and shashai. my little girl, warm greetings," he cried as shashai came to an instant statue-like standstill at peggy's one word, "halt!" and she slid from his back, braced at "attention" and saluted in all gravity, the clergyman returning the salute with much dignity. then in an instant the martial attitude and air were discarded and springing forward the girl slipped to his side, caught one hand and by a quick, graceful motion circled his arm about her waist and laid her head upon his shoulder just where tzaritza's had but a moment before rested, her face alight with affection as she exclaimed: "to meet you 'way, 'way out here, compadre!" "'far from the madding crowd,' filiola. five miles to the good for these old legs of seventy-four summers. they have served me well. i have no fault to find with them. they are stanch friends and have carried me many a mile. but you, my child? you and tzaritza and shashai? come hither, my beauty," and the free hand was extended to the colt which instantly advanced for the proffered caress. "ah, thou bonny, bonny creature! thou jewel among thy fellows. ah, but you possess a masculine frailty. ah, yes, i've detected it. oh, shashai, shashai, is thy heart reached only through thy stomach?" for now the colt was nozzling most insinuatingly at one of the ample pockets of the old gentleman's top coat. never had those pockets failed him since the days when he had ceased to be nourished by his dam's milk, and his faith in their bounty was not misplaced, for a slender white hand was inserted to be withdrawn with the lump of sugar shashai had counted upon and held forth upon the palm from which the velvety lips took it as daintily as a young lady's fingers could have taken it. three was the dole evidently for when three had been eaten shashai gravely bowed his head three times in acknowledgment of his treat and then turned to nibble at the budding trees, his benefactor returning to peggy. "so this is heyday and holiday, dear heart, is it? saturday's emancipation from your old dominie exactus when you may range wood and field unmolested, with never a thought for his domination and tyranny." "as though you ever dominated or tyrannized over me!" protested the girl. "i'd do anything, anything for you--you know that, don't you?" there was deep reproach in her voice. then, it changed suddenly as she asked: "but where is doctor claudius?" "in his stall, eating his fill. i wished to use my own legs today," smiled her companion. "his are exceptionally good ones, but my own will grow stiff if i do not use them more." just then shashai suddenly raised his head and stood with ears alert and nostrils extended. tzaritza rose from the ground where she had dropped down after greeting dr. llewellyn, and stood with ears raised, though neither man nor girl yet heard the faintest sound. "some one's coming and coming in a hurry," said peggy quietly, "or they wouldn't look like that." as she spoke the dull thud of hoofs pounding rapidly upon soft turf was borne to their ears, and a moment later a big gray horse ridden by a little negro boy, as tattered a specimen of his race as one might expect to see, came pounding into sight. with some difficulty he brought the big horse to a standstill in front of them and grabbing off his ragged cap stammered out his message: "howdy, massa dominie. sarvint, missy peggy, but josh done sont me fer ter fin' yo' an' bring you back yon' mighty quick, kase--kase, de--de sor'el mar' done got mos' kilt an' lak' 'nough daid right dis minit. he say, please ma'am, come quick as shazee kin fotch yo' fo' de empress, she mighty bad an'--" "what has happened to her, bud?" interrupted peggy, turning to spring upon shashai's back, but pausing to learn some particulars. the empress was one of the most valuable brood mares upon the estate and her foal, still dependent upon her for its nourishment, was peggy's pride and joy. "she done got outen de paddock and nigh 'bout bus' herself wide open on de flank on dat dummed mas-chine what dey trims de hedges wid. she bleeged ter bleed ter death, joshi say." peggy turned white. "excuse me, please--i must go as fast as i can. home, shashai, four bells and a jingle!" she cried and the colt swept away like a tornado, tzaritza in the lead. "golly, but she's one breeze, ain' she, sah?" "she is a wonderful girl and will make a magnificent woman if not spoiled in the next ten years," replied dr. llewellyn, though the words were more an oral expression of his own thoughts than a reply to the negro boy. chapter ii the empress as the half-wild colt swept up to the paddock from which the valuable brood mare empress had made her escape, peggy was met by one of the stable hands. "where is she?" she asked, her dark eyes full of concern and anxiety. "up yonder in de paster," answered the negro, pointing to a green upland. a touch with her heel started shashai. a moment later she slipped from her mount to hurry to a little group gathered around a dark object lying upon the ground. with the pitiful little cry: "oh, empress! my beauty," peggy was upon her knees beside the splendid animal. "shelby, shelby, how did it happen? oh, how did it?" she cried as she lifted the horse's head to her lap. the panting creature looked at her with great appealing, terror-stricken eyes, as though imploring her to save the life-spark now flickering so fitfully. "god knows, miss," answered the foreman of the paddock. "we did not find her until a half hour ago. if i'd a-found her sooner it would never acome to this. we ain't never had no such accident on the estate since _i_ been on it, and i'd give all i'm worth if we could a-just have missed this one. some fool, _i_ can't find out who, left them hedge shears a-hanging wide open across the gate and the gate unlatched, and she must a run foul of 'em, 'cause we found 'em and all the signs o' what had happened, but we couldn't find her for more 'n hour, and then this is what we found. i sent bud for you and jim for the vet, but we've all come too late." the man spoke low and hurriedly, and never for a moment ceased his care for the mare. the veterinary who had arrived but a few moments before peggy stood by helpless to do more than had already been done by shelby, the veteran horse-trainer who had been on the estate for years, and who loved the animals as though they were his children. it was evident that the empress' moments were numbered. she had severed one of the great veins in her flank and had nearly bled to death before discovered. her little foal stood near, surprised at his dam's indifference to his needs, his little baby face and great round eyes, so like his mother's, filled with questioning doubt. as peggy bent over the beautiful dying mare's head, tears streaming from her eyes, for she had cared for her and loved her since colthood, the little foal gave a low nicker and coming up behind the girl, thrust his soft muzzle over her shoulder and nestled his head against her face, trembling and quivering with a terror he could not understand. peggy raised one arm to clasp it around the little creature's warm neck. the empress tried to nicker an answer to her baby but the effort cost her last breath and heart-throb. it ended in a fluttering sigh and her head lay still and at rest upon peggy's lap. the splendid animal, which had so often carried peggy upon her back, the mother of shashai, and many another splendid horse whose fame was widely known, lay lifeless. her little son nestled closer to the one he knew and loved best as though begging her protection. peggy held him close, sobbing upon his warm neck. "you'd better get up, miss peggy," said shelby kindly. peggy bent and kissed the great silky head. "good-bye, empress. i'll care for your baby," she said. shelby lifted the splendid head from the girl's lap and helped her to her feet. the little colt still huddled close to her. "have you any orders, miss, about her?" asked shelby, nodding toward the dead mare. "she shall be buried in the circle and shall have a monument. we owe her much. her foal shall be my charge." "and i reckon mine, too. if we raise him now it will be a miracle. he's going to miss his dam's milk." "i think i can manage," answered peggy. "bud, come with me. i wish you to go down to annapolis with a note to doctor feldmeyer. he will understand what i wish to do. ride in on nancy lee. come, little one," and with the little colt's neck beneath her circling arm peggy walked slowly back to the paddock from which barely three hours before the splendid mare, now lying lifeless in the pasture, had dashed, leaving a trail of her life's blood behind her to guide those who came too late. it was all the outcome of one person's disregard of orders: one of the hands had quit his work to gossip, leaving his great hedge shears hanging carelessly across the gate, and the gate unfastened. the empress, gamboling with her foal, had rushed upon them, cut herself cruelly, then maddened by the pain and terrified by the flowing blood, had dashed away as only a frightened horse can, running until she fell from exhaustion. peggy went back to the inclosure in which the empress, as the most honored of the brood mares, had lived with her foal. the little stable, a very model of order and appointment, stood at one end of it. she opened the gate, intending to leave the colt in the inclosure, but he huddled closer and closer to her side. "why roy, baby, what is it!" asked peggy, as she would have spoken to a child. the little thing could only press closer and nicker its baby nicker. peggy hesitated a moment, then said: "it will never do to leave you now. you are half starved, you poor little thing. eight weeks are not many to have lived. come." and as though he understood every word and was comforted, the baby horse nickered again and walked close by her side. she went straight to the house, circling the garden, rich in early spring blossoms, to enter a little inclosure around which the servants' quarters were built, one building, a trifle more pretentious than the rest, evidently that of some upper servant. as peggy and her four-footed companion drew near, a trim little old colored woman looked out of the door. she was immaculate in a black and white checked gingham, a large white apron and a white turban, suggestive of ante-bellum days. instantly noting signs of distress upon her young mistress' face she hurried toward her, crying softly in her melodious voice: "baby! honey! what's de matter? 'what's done happen? what fo' yo' bring roy up hyer? where de empress at?" "oh mammy, mammy, the empress is dead. she--" "what dat yo' tellin' me, baby? de empress daid? ma lawd, wha' massa neil gwine do to we-all when he hyar dat? he gwine kill somebody dat's sartin suah. what kill her?" peggy told the story briefly, mammy lucy, who had been mammy to her and her father before her, listening attentively, nodding her head and clicking her tongue in consternation. such news was overwhelming. but mammy lucy had not lived on this estate for over sixty years without storing up some wisdom for emergencies, and before peggy had finished the pitiful tale she was on her way to the great kitchen at the opposite end of the inclosure where aunt cynthia ruled as dusky goddess of the shining copper kettles and pans upon the wall. "sis cynthy, we-all in trebbilation and we gotter holp dis hyer pore chile. she lak fer ter breck her heart 'bout de empress and she sho will if dis hyer colt come ter harm. please, ma'am, gimme a basin o' fresh, warm milk. bud he done gone down ter 'napolis fer a nussin' bottle, but dat baby yonder gwine faint an' die fo' dat no 'count nigger git back wid dat bottle. i knows him, i does." "howyo' gwine mak' dat colt drink?" asked cynthia skeptically. "de lawd on'y knows, but he gwine show me how," was mammy lucy's pious answer. the next second she cried "praise him! _i_ got it," and ran into her cabin to return with a piece of snowy white flannel. meanwhile cynthia had warmed the bowlful of milk. hastily catching up a huge oilcloth apron, mammy enveloped herself in it and then hurried back to peggy and her charge. from that moment roy's artificial feeding began. peggy raised his head while mammy opened his mouth by inserting a skilful finger where later the bit would rest, then slipped in the milk-sopped woolen rag. after a few minutes the small beastie which had never known fear, understood and sucked away vigorously, for he had not fed for hours and the poor innercolt was grumbling sorely at the long fast. the bowlful of milk soon disappeared, and he stood nozzling at peggy ready for a frolic, his woes forgotten. "now what yo' gwine do wid him, honey?" asked mammy. "i'd like to put him to sleep on the piazza, but i'm afraid i can't," answered peggy, smiling sadly, for the loss of the empress had struck deeply. "no, yo' suah cyant do dat," was mammy's reply. "you'll be bleeged fer ter put him yonder in de paddock." "he will be so lonesome," said peggy doubtfully. just then the great wolfhound came bounding up. she thrust her nose into her mistress' hand and gave a low bark of delight. she was almost as tall as the colt, and seemed to understand his needs. she then turned to give a greeting lick upon the colt's nose. he jerked away, as though resenting the lady's familiarity, but nickered softly. he had known tzaritza from the first moment he became aware of things terrestrial and they had often gamboled together when the empress was disinclined for a frolic. peggy's eyes brightened. "tzaritza, attention!" the splendid hound raised her head to look into her young mistress' eyes with keen intelligence. "come," and followed by the hound and colt peggy hurried back to the stables. they had brought the empress down from the pasture and laid her upon the soft turf of the large circular grass-plot in front of the main building. the men were now digging her grave. "tzaritza, scent," commanded peggy, stroking the empress' neck. the hound made long, deep sniffs at the still form. "come." peggy then laid her hand upon the little colt's neck. the scent was the same. tzaritza understood. "guard," said peggy. "woof-woof," answered tzaritza deep down in her throat. peggy then led the way to the empress' paddock. roy capered through the gate; tzaritza, with her newly-assumed responsibility upon her, entered with dignity. from that hour she scarcely left her charge, lying beside him when he rested in the shade of the great beeches, nestling close in the little stable at night, following him wherever he chose to go during his liberty hours of the day, for thenceforth he was rarely confined to the paddock. before the empress was laid away bud returned with the nursing bottle. the rubber nipples were thrust into the empress' mouth and thus getting the mother scent all else was very simple. roy tugged away at his bottle like a well-conducted, well-conditioned baby, tzaritza watching with keen intelligent eyes. she soon knew the feeding hours as well as peggy or mammy, and promptly to the minute led her charge to mammy's door. if mammy happened to be elsewhere she sought cynthia, and so had the interest grown that there was not a man, woman or child upon the place who would not have dropped anything in order to minister to the needs of tzaritza's charge. and so passed the early springtide, roy waxing fat and strong, tzaritza never relaxing her care, though at first it was a sore trial to her to remain behind with her foster-son while her beloved mistress galloped away upon shashai. but that word "guard" was sacred. in the course of a few weeks, however, roy was well able to follow his half-brother, shashai, and tzaritza's freedom was restored. the trio was rarely separated and to see peggy in her hammock on the lawn, or on the piazza, meant to see the colt and tzaritza also, though roy was rapidly outgrowing piazzas and lawns, and peggy was beginning to be puzzled as to what was to be done with him when he could no longer come clattering up the steps and across the piazza after his foster-mother. with the summer came word that her father would come home on a month's leave and august was longed for with an eagerness he could not have dreamed. everything must be in perfect order to receive him, and peggy flew from house to garden, from garden to stables, from stables to paddock keyed to a state of excitement which infected every member of the household. dr. llewellyn smiled sympathetically. harrison, the housekeeper, stalked after her, doing her best to carry out her orders, while announcing that: now, she guessed, there would be some hope of making mr. neil see the folly of letting a girl of peggy's age run wild as a hawk forever and a day. she'd have one talk with him he'd do well to take heed to or she'd know why. mammy lucy said little but watched her young mistress' radiant face. it was eight months since master neil had been home and deep in her tender old heart she understood better than any one else what his coming meant to peggy. harrison might have a better idea of what was wise and best for her young charge, but mammy's love taught her many things which harrison could never learn. meanwhile peggy spent the greater part of her days down at the paddock, for shashai must be broken to saddle and bridle in order to receive his master in proper style. a blanket and halter might answer for the mad gallops across country which they had hitherto taken, but daddy neil was coming home for a month and the horses must do the place credit. with this end in view, peggy betook herself to the paddock one morning before breakfast, saddle and bridle borne behind her by bud. shashai welcomed her with his clear nicker, sweeping up to the gate in his long, rocking stride so like the empress'. tzaritza with her foster-son followed in peggy's wake, tzaritza sniffing inquiringly at the saddle, roy pranking thither and yonder, rich just in the joy of being alive. shashai had never quite overcome his jealousy of his young half-brother, and now laid back his ears in reproof of his unseemly gambols; shashai's own babyhood was not far enough in the background for him to be tolerant. peggy entered the paddock and shashai at once nozzled her for his morning lumps of sugar. for the first time in his memory they were not forthcoming, and his great eyes looked their wondering reproach. "not yet, shashai. "we must keep them for a reward if you behave well." she slipped an arm over the beautifully arched neck and laid her face against the satiny smoothness. shashai approved the caress but would have approved the sugar much more. "give me the saddle, bud." the little negro boy handed her the light racing saddle; a very featherweight of a saddle. "steady, shashai." the colt stood like a statue expecting the girl as usual to spring upon his back. instead she placed upon it a stiff, leather affair which puzzled him not a little, and from which dangled two curious contrivances. these, however, she quickly caught up and fastened over the back and their metallic clicking ceased to annoy him. the buckling was a little strenuous. hitherto a surcingle had served to hold the blanket upon his back, but this contraption had two surcingles and a stiff leather strap to boot, which peggy's strong hands pulled tighter than any straps had ever before been pulled around him. he quivered slightly but stood the test and--a lump of sugar was held beneath his eager nostrils, if that followed it was worth while standing to have that ugly, stiff thing adjusted. "now the headstall, bud. did you coat the bit with the melted sugar as i told you?" "yes'm, missie. it's fair cracklin' wid sugar, an' onct he gits a lick ob dat bit he ain' never gwine let go, yo' hyar me." "now, my bonny one, we'll see," said peggy, as she unstrapped the bit, and the headstall without it was no more than the halter to which shashai had been accustomed. then very gently she held the bit toward him. he tried to take it as he would have taken the sugar and his look of surprise when his lips closed over the hard metal thing was amusing. nevertheless, it tasted good and he mouthed and licked it, gradually getting it well within his mouth. at an opportune moment peggy slipped the right buckle into place, quickly following it by the left one. shashai started. "steady, shashai. steady, boy," she said gently and the day was won. no shocks, no lashings, no harsh words to make the sight of that headstall throw him into a panic whenever it was produced. dozens of horses had been so educated by peggy stewart. shashai sucked at his queer mouthpiece as a child would suck a stick of candy, and while he was enjoying its sweetness peggy brought forth lump number two. four was his daily allowance, and as he enjoyed number two she let down the stirrups which had seemed likely to startle him. "stand outside, bud, he may be a little frightened when the saddle creaks." the boy left the paddock. "stand, shashai," commanded peggy, resting her hand upon the colt's withers. he knew perfectly well what to expect, but why that strange groaning and creaking? the blanket had never done so. the sensitive nerves quivered and he sprang forward, but peggy had caught her stirrups and her low voice quieted him as she swayed and adapted herself to his gait. around and around the paddock they loped in perfect harmony of motion. she did not draw upon the bridle rein, merely holding it as she had been accustomed to hold her halter strap, guiding by her knees. shashai tossed his head partly in nervous irritation at the creaking saddle, partly in the joy of motion, and joy won the day. then peggy began to draw slightly upon her reins. the colt shook his head impatiently as though asking: "wherefor the need? i know exactly where you wish to go." "oh, my bonny one, my bonny one, that is just it! i know that you know, but someday someone else won't know, and if i don't teach you now just what the bit means the poor mouth may pay the penalty. it may anyway, in spite of all i can do, but i'll do my best to make it an easy lesson. oh why, why will people pull and tug as they do on a horse's mouth when there is nothing in this world so sensitive, or that should be so lightly handled. so be patient, shashai. we only use it because we must, dear. now, right, turn!" and with the words she pressed her right knee against the colt, at the same time drawing gently upon the right rein. shashai turned because he had always done so at the words and the pressure, accepting the bit's superfluous hint like the gentleman he was. "open the gate, bud. we'll go for a spin," ordered peggy as she swung around the paddock. "won't yo' jump, missie?" asked bud eagerly. the delight of his life was to see his young mistress take a fence. "not this time," answered peggy over her shoulder. bud opened the gate as they came around again and as peggy cried: "four bells, shashai," the colt sprang through, tzaritza and roy joining in with a happy bark and neigh. all so simply, so easily done by love's gentle rule. chapter iii "daddy neil" "stand there, little girl. why, why--how has it come about! when did you do it? i went away nine months ago leaving a little girl in mammy lucy's and harrison's charge and i have returned to find a young lady. peggy, baby, what have you done with my little girl?" commander stewart stood in the big living-room of severndale, his hand upon peggy's shoulder as he held her at arm's length to look at her in puzzled surprise. he had just experienced one of those startling revelations which often arouse parents to the fact that their children have stolen a march upon them, and sprung into very pleasing young men or women while they themselves have been in an unobserving somnolent state. it is invariably a shock and one which few parents escape. peggy laughed, colored a rosy pink but obeyed, a little thrill of innocent triumph passing over her, for daddy neil's eyes held something more than surprise, and peggy's feminine soul detected the underlying pride and admiration. "by the great god neptune, you've taken a rise out of me this time, child. how old are you, anyway!" "as though you didn't know perfectly well, you tease," laughed peggy, turning swiftly and nestling in his arms. the arms held her closely and the sun-tanned cheek rested upon her dark, silky hair. the eyes were singularly soft and held a suggestion of moisture. it did not seem so very long ago to daddy neil since peggy's beautiful mother had been in that very room with him nestling in his arms in that same confiding little manner. how like her peggy had grown in looks and a thousand little mannerisms. from the moment peggy had met him at the round bay station to this one, he had lived in a sort of waking dream, partly in the past, partly in the present, and in the strangest possible mental confusion. his memory picture of peggy as he had left her in october of the previous year was of the little hoyden in short skirts, laughing and prancing from morning till night, and leading mammy lucy a life of it. in nine months the little romp had blossomed into a very charming young girl, dainty and sweet as a wild rose in her white duck sailor suit, with its dark red collar, her hair braided in soft coils about her head and adorned with a big red bow. the embryo woman stood before him. "yes, how old are you?" he insisted, looking at her with mingled, puzzled eyes. "oh, daddy, you know i was fourteen in january," she said half reproachfully. "you sent me such beautiful things from japan." "yes, but you might be eighteen now from your looks and height. and living here alone with the servants. why--why, it's, it's all out of order; you are off your course entirely. you must have someone with you, or go somewhere, or--or--well something has got to be done and right off, too," and poor perplexed neil stewart ran his hand through his curly, gray-tinged hair in a distracted manner. peggy looked startled, then serious. such a contingency as this incumbent upon growing up had never entered her head. must the old order of things which she so loved, and all the precious freedom of action, give way to something entirely new? harrison had more than once hinted that such would be the case when daddy neil came home and found a young lady where he expected to find a little girl. "oh, daddy, please don't talk about that now. you've only just got here and i've ten thousand things to tell and show you. let's not think of the future just yet. it's such a joy to just live now. to have you here and see you and hug you, and love you hard," cried peggy suiting her actions to her words. mr. stewart shook his head, but did not beggar his response to the caress. it sent a glow all through him to feel that this beautiful young girl was his daughter, the mistress of the home he so loved, but so rarely enjoyed. "we'll have a truce for a week, honey, and during that time we'll do nothing but enjoy each other. then we'll take our reckoning and lay our course by chart, for i'm convinced that i, at least, have been running on dead reckoning and you--well--i guess the good lord's been at the helm and taken in hand my job with a good deal of credit to himself and confounded little to me. but it's my watch from now on. i wish your mother were here, sweetheart. you need her now," and neil stewart again drew the young girl into his strong, circling arm. "i'd resign tomorrow if--if--well, when i resign i want four stripes at least on my sleeve to leave you as a memory in the years to come. now show me the ropes. i'm a stranger on board my own ship." for an hour peggy did the honors of the beautiful home, jerome, the old butler, who had been "massa neil's body servant" before he entered the academy at eighteen, where body servants had no place, hovering around, solicitous of his master's comfort; harrison making a hundred and one excuses to come into the room; mammy lucy, with the privileges of an old servant making no excuses at all but bobbing in and out whenever she saw fit. luncheon was soon served in the wonderful old dining-room, one side of which was entirely of glass giving upon a broad piazza overlooking round bay. from this room the view was simply entrancing and neil stewart, as he sat at the table at which peggy was presiding with such grace and dignity, felt that life was certainly worth while when one could look up and encounter a pair of such soft brown eyes regarding him with such love and joy, and see such ripe, red lips part in such carefree, happy smiles. "jerome, don't forget daddy neil's sauce. "yes, missie, lamb. i knows--i knows. cynthy, she done got it made to de very top-notch pint," answered jerome, hurrying away upon noiseless feet and in all his immaculate whiteness from the crown of his white woolly head to his duck uniform, for the severndale servants wore the uniforms of the mess-hall rather than the usual household livery. neil stewart could not abide "cit's rigs." moreover, in spite of the long absences of the master, everything about the place was kept up in ship-shape order; harrison and mammy lucy cooperated with jerome in looking well to this. "now, daddy," cried peggy happily when luncheon ended, "come out to the stables and paddock; i've a hundred things to show you." "a stable and a paddock for an old salt like me," laughed her father. "i wonder if i shall know a horse's hock from his withers? yet it does seem good to see them, and smell the grass and woods and know it's all mine and that you are mine," he cried, slipping his arm through hers and pacing off with her. "some day," he added, "i am coming here to settle down with you to enjoy it all, and when i do i mean to let four legs carry me whenever there is the least excuse for so doing. my own have done enough pacing of the quarter-deck to have earned that indulgence." "and won't it be just--paradise," cried peggy rapturously. they were now nearing the paddock. to one side was a long row of little cottages occupied by the stable hands' families. mr. stewart paused and smiled, for out of each popped a funny little black woolly head to catch a glimpse of "massa captain," as all the darkies on the place called him. "good lord, where do they all come from, peggy? have they all been born since my last visit? there were not so many here then." "not quite all," answered peggy laughing. "most of them were here before that, though there are some new arrivals either in the course of nature or new help. you see the business is growing, daddy, and i've had to take on new hands." neil stewart started. "was this little person who talked in such a matter-of-fact way about "taking on new hands" his little peggy? "yes, yes--i dare say," he answered in a sort of daze. peggy seemed unaware of anything the least unusual and continued: "i want you to see this family. it is joshua jozadak jubal jones'. they might all be of an age, but they are not--quite. come here, boys, and see master captain," called peggy to the three piccaninnies who were peeping around the corner of the cottage. three black, grinning little faces, topped by the kinkiest of woolly heads, came slowly at her bidding, each one glancing half-proudly, yet more or less panicstricken, at the big man in white flannels. "hello, boys. whose sons are you? miss peggy tells me you are brothers." "yas, sir. we is. we's joshua jozadak jubal jones's boys. i'se gus--de ol'es. der's nine haid o' us, but we's de oniest boys. de yethers ain' nothin' but gurls." "and how old are you!" "i'se nine i reckons." "and what is your name?" "my name gus, sah." "that's only half a name. your whole name is really augustus remember." the "massa captain's" voice boomed with the sound of the sea. augustus and his brothers were duly impressed. if gus really meant augustus, why augustus he would be henceforth. the massa captain had said it and what the massa captain said--went, especially when he gave a bright new dime to enforce the order. "and your name?" continued the questioner, pointing at number two. "i'se jist jule, sah," was the shy reply. "that's a nickname too. i can't have such slipshod, no-account names for my hands' children. it isn't dignified. it isn't respectful. it's a disgrace to miss peggy. do you hear?" "yas--yas--sir. we--we hears," answered the little darkies in chorus, the whites of their eyes rolling and their knees fairly smiting together. how could they have been guilty of thus slighting their adored young mistress? "please, sah, wha's his name ef taint jule?" augustus plucked up heart of grace to ask. "he is julius, jul-i-us, do you understand?" "yas--sir. yas--sir." another dime helped the memory box. "and your name?" asked the massa captain of quaking number three. there was a long, significant pause, then contortions as though number three were suffering from a violent attack of colic. at length, after two or three futile attempts he blurted out: "i'se--i'se billyus, sah!" there was a terrific explosion, then neil stewart tossed the redoubtable billyus a quarter, crying: "you win," and walked away with peggy, his laughter now and again borne back to his beneficiaries. peggy never knew where that month slipped to with its long rides on shashai, daddy neil riding the emperor, the magnificent sire of all the small fry upon the place, from those who had already gone, or were about to be sent out into the great world beyond the limits of severndale, to roy, the latest arrival. neil stewart wondered and marveled more and more as each day slipped by. then, too, were the delightful paddles far up the severn in peggy's canoe, exploring unsuspected little creeks, with now and again a bag in the wild, lonely reaches of the river, followed by a delicious little supper of broiled birds, done to a turn by aunt cynthia. there were, too, moonlight sails in peggy's little half-rater, which she handled with a master hand. as a rule, one of the boys accompanied her, for the mainsail and centerboard were pretty heavy for her to handle unaided, but with daddy neil on board--well, not much was left to be desired. during that month peggy learned "how lightly falls the foot of time which only treads on flowers," and was appalled when she realized that only five more days remained of her father's leave. neil stewart, upon his part, was sorely perplexed, for it had come to him with an overwhelming force that peggy was almost a young lady, and to live much longer as she had been living was simply out of the question. yet how solve the problem? he and dr. llewellyn talked long and earnestly upon the subject when peggy was not near, and fully concurred in their view-point; a change must be made, and made right speedily. should peggy be sent to school? if so, where? much depended upon the choice in her case. her whole life had been so entirely unlike the average girl's. why she scarcely knew the meaning of companions of her own age of either sex. neil stewart actually groaned aloud as he thought of this. dr. llewellyn suggested a companion for the young girl. mr. stewart groaned again. whom should he choose? so far as he knew there was not a relative, near or remote, to whom he could turn, and a hit-or-miss choice among strangers appalled him. "i give you my word, llewellyn, i'm aground--hard and fast. i can't navigate that little cruiser out yonder," and he nodded toward the lawn where peggy was giving his first lessons to roy in submitting to a halter. it was a pretty picture, too, and one deeply imprinted upon neil stewart's memory. "we will do our best for her and leave the rest to the dear lord," answered the good doctor, his cameo-like face turned toward the lawn to watch the girl whom he loved as a daughter. "he will show us the way. he has never yet failed to." "well, in all reverence, i wish he'd show it before i leave, for i tell you i don't like the idea of going away and leaving that little girl utterly unprotected." "i should call her very well protected," said dr. llewellyn mildly. "oh, yes, in a way. you are here off and on, and the servants all the time, but look at the life she leads, man. not a girl friend. nothing that other girls have. i tell you it's bad navigating and she'll run afoul rocks or shoals. it isn't natural. for the lord's sake do something. if i could be here a month longer i'd start something or burst everything wide open. it's simply got to be changed." and neil stewart got up from his big east india chair to pace impatiently up and down the broad piazza, now and again giving an absent-minded kick to a hassock, or picking up a sofa pillow to heave it upon a settee, as though clearing the deck for action. he was deeply perturbed. peggy glanced toward him, and quick to notice signs of mental disturbance, left her charge to tzaritza's care and came running toward the piazza. as she ran up the four steps giving upon the lawn she asked half laughingly, half seriously: "heavy weather, daddy neil? barometer falling?" neil stewart paused, looked at her a moment and asked abruptly: "peggy, how would you like to go to a boarding school?" "to boarding school!" exclaimed peggy in amazement. "leave severndale and all this and go away to a school?" the emphasis upon the last word held whole volumes. her father nodded. "i think i'd die," she said, dropping upon a settee as though the very suggestion had deprived her of strength. her father's forehead puckered into a perplexed frown. if peggy were sent to boarding school the choice of one would be a nice question. "well, what shall i do with you?" demanded the poor man in desperation. "leave me right where i am. compadre will see that i'm not quite an ignoramus, harrison keeps me decently clad and properly lectured, and mammy looks to my feeding when i'm well and dosing when i'm not, which, thank goodness, isn't often. why daddy, i'm so happy. so perfectly happy. please, please don't spoil it," and peggy rose to slip her arm within her father's and "pace the deck" as he called it. "but you haven't a single companion of your own age or station," he protested. "do i look the maiden all forlorn as the result?" she asked, laughing up at him. "you look--you look--exactly like your mother, and to me she was the most beautiful woman i have ever seen," and peggy found herself in an embrace which threatened to smother her. she blushed with pleasure. to be like her mother whom she scarcely remembered, for eight years had passed since that beautiful mother slipped out of her life, was the highest praise that could have been bestowed upon her. "daddy, will you make a truce with me?" her father stopped to look down at her, doubtful of falling into a snare, for he had wakened to the fact that his little fourteen-year-old daughter had a pretty long head for her years. peggy's white teeth gleamed behind her rosy lips and her eyes danced wickedly. "what are you hatching for your old dad's undoing, you witch?" "nothing but a truce. it is almost the first of september. will you give me just one more year of this glorious freedom? i shall be nearly sixteen then, and then if you still wish it, i'll go to a finishing school, or any other old school you say to be polished off for society and to do the honors of severndale properly when you retire. but, daddy, please, please, don't send me this year. i love it all so dearly--and i'll be good--i truly will." at the concluding words the big dark eyes filled. her father bent down to kiss away the unshed tears. his own eyes were troublesome. "i sign the truce, sweetheart, for one year, but i want a detailed report every week, do you understand?" "you shall have it, accurate as a ship's log." five days later he had joined his ship and peggy was once more alone, yet, even then, over yonder under the shadow of the dome of the chapel at the naval academy the future was being shaped for the young girl: a future so unlike one those who loved her best could possibly have foreseen or planned. chapter iv in october's days september slipped by, a lonely month for peggy as contrasted with august. at first she did not fully realize how lonely, but as the days went by she missed her father's companionship more and more. formerly, after one of his brief visits she had taken up her usual occupations, fallen back into the old order of things, and been happy in her dumb companions. but this time she could not settle down to anything. she was restless, and as nearly unhappy as it was possible for peggy stewart to be. she could not understand it. poor little peggy, how could she analyze it? how reason out that her life, dearly as she loved it, was an unnatural one for a young girl, and, consequently, an unsatisfactory one. dr. llewellyn was troubled. tender, wise and devoted to the girl, he had long foreseen this crisis. it was all very well for the child peggy to run wild over fields and woodland, to ride, drive, paddle, sail, fish or do as the whim of the moment prompted, happy in her horses and her dogs. mammy and harrison were fully capable of looking to her corporal needs and he could look to her mental and spiritual ones, and did do so. situated as severndale was, remote from the other estates upon the river and never brought into social touch with its neighbors, peggy was hardly known. when neil stewart came home on leave he was only too glad to get away from the social side of his life in the service, and the weeks spent with his little girl at severndale had always been the delight of his life. they took him into a new world all his own in which the small vexations of the outer service world were entirely forgotten. and how he looked forward to those visits. he rarely spoke of them to his friends, mentioned severndale to very few and hardly a dozen knew of peggy's existence. it was a peculiar attitude, but neil stewart had never been reconciled to the cruel fate which had taken from him the beautiful wife he had loved so devotedly, and the thought of guests at severndale without her there to entertain them as she had been accustomed to, was peculiarly abhorent to him. he became almost morbid on the subject and did not realize that he was growing selfish in his sorrow and making peggy pay the penalty. but something in the way of an awakening had come to him during his recent visit, and it had shocked him. the child peggy was a child no longer but a very charming young girl on the borderland of womanhood. in a year or two she would be a young woman and entitled to her place in the social world. poor neil stewart, more than once upon retiring to his bedroom after one of his delightful evenings spent with peggy, desperately ran his fingers through his curly hair and asked aloud: "what under the sun am i to do? i can't leave that child vegetating here any longer, yet who will come to live with her or where shall i send her?" but the question was still unanswered when he left severndale and now peggy was beginning to experience something of her father's unrest. october came. her work with dr. llewellyn was resumed. each sunday she drove into annapolis to old st. ann's with harrison; a modest, unobtrusive little figure who attended the service and slipped away again almost unnoticed. indeed, if given a thought at all she was vaguely supposed to be some connection of the eminently respectable elderly woman accompanying her. harrison was a rather stately imposing body in her black taffeta, or black broadcloth, as the season demanded. people did not inquire. it was not their affair. the rector on one or two occasions had spoken to harrison, but harrison had been on her dignity. she replied politely but did not encourage intimacy and, if the truth must be confessed, dr. smith, rather piqued, decided that he had done his duty and would make no further advances. this had happened some time before the beginning of this story. in october, as usual, a number of colts were disposed of. some were sold to people in the adjacent towns or counties, others sent to remote purchasers who had seen them in their baby days, followed their upbringing and training, and waited patiently for them to arrive at the stipulated age, four years, before becoming their property. no colt was ever sold under four years of age. this was an inviolable law of severndale, mutually agreed upon by dr. llewellyn, the business manager, shelby, the foreman, and peggy, the mistress. "ain't going to have no half-baked stock sent off this place if i have the say-so," had been shelby's fiat. "i've seen too many fine colts mined by being bruck too young and then sold to fools who don't seem to sense that a horse's backbone's like gristle 'fore he's turned three. then they load him down fit to kill him, or harness him in a way no horse could stand, or drive him off his legs, and, when he's played out, they get back at the man who sold him to them, and like as not there's a lawsuit afoot that the price of the colt four times over couldn't square, to say nothing of a reputation no stock-farm can afford to have." shelby's sense was certainly very sound horse-sense and was rigidly abided by. consequently, the colts which left severndale were in the pride and glory of their young horsehood, and this year they were a most promising lot. there were eleven to be disposed of, and, thanks to peggy's care and training, as fine a bunch of horseflesh as could be found in the land. she had trained--not broken, she could not tolerate that word--every one and each knew his or her name and came at peggy's call as a child, loving and obeying her implicitly. among them were two exceptionally beautiful creatures--a splendid chestnut with a white star in the middle of his forehead, and a young filly, half-sister to the chestnut and little boy. the chestnut was called silver star, the filly columbine, for the singular gentleness of her disposition. she was a golden bay, slender and lithe as a fawn, with great fawn-like brown eyes full of gentleness and love for all, and for peggy in particular. she had been sold, under the usual conditions during the previous year and was soon to be sent to her new home. one morning, the second week in october, peggy opened a letter which held unusual interest for her. it was from a lady whose home was in wilmot hall in annapolis. wilmot hall was the hotel near the naval academy and mostly patronized by the officers and their families. the letter was from the wife of a naval officer who wished either to hire or purchase a riding horse for her niece who would spend the winter with her. she stated very explicitly that the horse must be well broken ("yes, broken!" fairly snorted peggy. "broken! i wonder if she would want a literally 'broken' horse? why will they never say trained!") and gentle, as her niece had ridden very little. the letter then went on to ask if mrs. harold might call some day and hour agreed upon. but what amused peggy most, and caused her to laugh aloud as she took a spoonful of luscious sliced peaches, was the manner in which the letter was addressed. old jerome who was serving her in the pretty delft breakfast-room took an old retainer's privilege to ask: "what 'musin' you, honey-chile?" "didn't know i was an esquire, did you, jerome? well i am, because this letter says so. it is addressed to m. c. stewart, esq. as i am the only m. c. stewart i must be the esquire to boot. wonder what the lady will think when i sign myself margaret c. stewart," and peggy's silvery laugh filled the room. "don' yo' mind what dey calls yo', baby. how dey gwine know yo's our young mist'ess? don' yo' let dat triflin' trebble yo' pretty haid," said the faithful old soul, fearful lest his mistress' pride might be touched, and hastening to serve the second course of her breakfast in his best "quality style." "it doesn't trouble me even a little bit, jerome. it's just funny. i'm going to answer that letter right after breakfast, and i wish i could see my correspondent's face when she finds that her 'esquire' is one of her own sex. but i'll never dare let her guess i'm just a girl." "jes' a gurl! jes' a gurl," sputtered jerome. "kyant yo' just give her a hint dat yo's a yo'ng lady and we-all's mistiss?" "'fraid not, jerome. she will have to learn that when she comes out here to see silver star, if she really comes. i'd let her have columbine if she were not sold. if that girl, who ever she is, could not ride columbine she would fall out of a rocking chair. but star is a darling and never cuts pranks unless shashai sets him a bad example. i fear shashai will never forget his colt tricks," and shashai's mistress wagged her pretty head doubtfully. "shas'ee's all right, miss peggy. don' yo' go fer ter 'line him. when i sees yo' two a kitin' way over de fiel's an' de fences, i says ter ma sef, gawd-a-mighty, je'ome, yo's got one pintedly hansome yo'ng mistess an' she kin ride for fair." "and that same young mistress is in a fair way to be spoiled by your flattery that is pretty certain," laughed peggy, rising from the breakfast table and gathering up the pile of letters she had been reading. "huh, huh. spiled nothin'," protested jerome as she disappeared into the adjoining library. seating herself at her very business-like desk she wrote in a clear, angular hand: severndale, round bay station. october 20, 19-mrs. g. f. harold, wilmot hall, annapolis, md. dear madam: your favor of october eighteenth has been duly received and contents noted. in reply would say that i shall be very glad to have you call and inspect our stock. we have one colt, a four-year old, sired by the emperor, dam the empress, which i shall be glad to show you. there are also others, but i am considering pedigree, disposition and gait since you state that you wish a horse for an inexperienced rider. would suggest that you run out to round bay station, via b. a. short line r. r. on saturday, october the twenty-third, 1.30 p. m. weather permitting, where i shall meet and convey you to severndale. awaiting your pleasure i am very truly yours, margaret c. stewart how little it often requires to change our whole future. little did peggy guess as she wrote that letter in dr. llewellyn's most approved form, that it was destined to entirely revolutionize her life, introduce her to a hitherto unknown world and round out her future in a manner beyond the fondest hopes of "daddy neil." this is a big world of little things. the letter went upon its way and in the course of the morning peggy almost forgot it. at ten o'clock dr. llewellyn came for the regular morning lessons. if these were a little unusual for a girl of peggy's age she was certainly none the worse for her very practical knowledge of mathematics, her ability to conduct correctly the business side of the estate, for upon this, as the business manager, good dr. llewellyn insisted, and if that bonny, well-poised, level little head sometimes grew weary over investments, and interest, and profits and losses, and nestled down confidingly upon his shoulder, the subjects were none the less fully digested, and peggy knew to a dollar, as he did, whence her income was derived and to what use it was put. then, too, dr. llewellyn in his love for the classics made them a fairy world for the girl and the commingling of the practical with the ideal maintained the balance. when one o'clock came dinner was served and after that dr. llewellyn went his way and peggy hurried off to her beloved horses. on this day columbine was to bid good-bye to severndale. as peggy entered the big airy stable with its row upon row of scrupulously neat box stalls, for no other sort was permitted in severndale, columbine greeted her from one of them, as though asking: "why am i kept mewed up in here while all my companions are enjoying their daily liberty out yonder?" peggy opened the gate and entered the stall. the beautiful creature nestled to her like a petted child. "oh, my bonny one, my bonny one, how can i send you away?" asked peggy softly. "will they be good to you out yonder? will they understand what a prize they have got? washington is far away and so big and so fashionable, they tell me. it would break my heart to have you misused." the filly nickered softly. "i am going to send a little message with you. if they read it they will surely pay heed to it." she drew from the pocket of her blouse a little package. it was not over an inch wide or three long, and was carefully sealed in a piece of oil silk. parting the thick, luxuriant mane, she tied her missive securely underneath. when the silky hair fell back in place the little message was completely concealed. peggy clasped her arms about the filly's neck, kissed the soft muzzle and said: "good-bye, dear. i'll never forget you and i wonder if i shall ever hear of you or see you again?" her eyes were full of tears as she left the stable. two hours later columbine was led from her happy home. what later befell her we will learn in a future volume of peggy stewart. meanwhile we must follow peggy's history. on the following saturday, in the golden glow of an october afternoon, with the hills a glory of color and the air as soft as wine, peggy drove comet and meteor, her splendid carriage horses, to the bound bay station to meet mrs. harold and her niece. tzaritza bounded along beside the surrey and old jess, the coachman of fifty years, sat beside his young mistress, almost bursting with pride as he watched the skill with which she handled the high-spirited animals, for jess had taught her to drive when she was so tiny that he had to hold her upon his lap, and keep the little hands within the grasp of his big black ones. leaving the horses in his care she stepped upon the little platform which did primitive duty as a station, to await the arrival of the electric car which could already be heard humming far away up the line. as her guests stepped from the car she advanced to meet them, saying as she extended her hand to mrs. harold: "this is mrs. harold, i reckon. i am peggy stewart. i am glad to meet you." there was not the least hesitation or self-consciousness and the frank smile which accompanied the words revealed all her pretty, even teeth. "i got your message and i am right glad to welcome you to severndale." the lady looked a trifle bewildered. she had expected to meet the owner of severndale, or, certainly, a mature woman. her correspondence had, it is true, been with a margaret c. stewart, whom she assumed to be mr. stewart's wife or some relative. intuitively peggy grasped the situation, but kept a perfectly sober face. "i am very glad to come," said her guest, and added: "this is my niece, polly howland." "it's nice to see and know you. i don't see many girls of my own age. will you come to the surrey?" and she indicated with a graceful motion of her hand the carriage in waiting just beyond. mrs. harold and her niece followed their guide. old jess made a sweeping bow. he must do the honors properly. peggy helped her guests into the rear seat, then sprang lightly into the front one, drew on a pair of chamois gloves, and taking the reins from jess, gave a low, clear whistle. instantly tzaritza bounded up from beneath some shrubbery where she had lain hidden, and cavorting to the horses' heads made playful snaps at their muzzles. the next second they had reared upon their hind legs. mrs. harold gave a little cry of terror and polly laid hold of the side of the surrey. peggy flashed an amused, dazzling smile over her shoulder at them as she said reassuringly: "don't be frightened. down, tzaritza. steady, my beauties." at her words the beautiful span settled down as quiet as lambs and swung into a gait which whirled the surrey along the picturesque, woodland road at a rate not to be despised, while peggy drove with the masterhand of experience. indeed she seemed to guide more by words than reins, or some perfectly understood signal to the splendid creatures which arched their necks, or laid back an ear to catch each low spoken word. for a time peggy's guests were too absorbed in watching her marvelous skill and almost uncanny power over her horses to make any comment. then the young girl broke into a perfect ecstasy of delight as she cried: "oh, how do you do it? how beautiful they are and what a superb dog. it is a russian wolfhound, isn't it?" "yes, she is a wolfhound. but i don't quite understand. do what?" and peggy glanced back questioningly. "why drive like that. make them obey you so perfectly." "oh! why i reckon it is because i have driven all my life. i can't remember when i haven't, and i love and understand them so well. that is all there is to it, i think. they will do almost anything for me. you see i was here when they were born and they have known me from the very first. that makes a lot of difference. and i have a great deal to do about the paddock. i superintend it. the horses are never afraid of me and if they don't know the meaning of fear one can do almost anything with them," how simple it was all said. mrs. harold was more and more puzzled. the drive was longer than she had expected it to be and she had ample time to observe her young hostess. "and your mother or aunt, whom i infer is my correspondent, shall i meet her at severndale!" "my mother is not living, mrs. harold, and i have no own aunt; only an aunt by marriage, the widow of daddy's only brother, but i have never seen her." "then i am at a loss to understand with whom i have been corresponding about a wonderful horse called silver star. someone who signs her letters margaret c. stewart, and who evidently knows what she is writing about, too, for she writes to the point and has told me a dozen things which no one but an experienced business woman would think of telling. yet you tell me there is neither a mrs. nor miss stewart at severndale." "i am afraid i am the only miss stewart at severndale, though i am never called miss stewart. i'm just miss peggy to the help, and peggy to my friends. but, of course, when i write business letters i have to sign my full name." "you write business letters. do you mean to tell me you wrote those letters'?" "i'm the only margaret stewart," answered peggy, her eyes twinkling. "but here we are at severndale." the span made a sharp turn and sped along a beautiful avenue over-arched by golden beeches and a moment later swept up to a stately old colonial mansion which must have looked out over the reaches of round bay for many generations. chapter v polly howland it must be admitted that during the drive from the station peggy's curiosity concerning her guests had been fully as lively as theirs regarding her. she had never known girl friends; there was but one home within reasonable reach of her own which harbored a girl near her own age and during the past year even this one had been sent off to boarding school, her parents realizing that the place was too remote to afford her the advantages her age demanded. consequently, peggy experienced a little thrill when she met polly howland. here was a girl of her own age, her own station, and, if intuition meant anything, a kindred spirit. the moment of their introduction had been too brief for peggy to have a good look at polly, but now that they had reached severndale she meant to have it, and while mrs. howland and polly were exclaiming over the beauty of the old place, and the former was wondering how she could have lived in annapolis so long without even being aware of its existence, peggy, while apparently occupied in caring for her guests' welfare, was scrutinizing those guests very closely. what she saw was a lady something past forty, a little above the average height, slight and graceful, with masses of dark brown hair coiled beneath a very pretty dark blue velvet toque, a face almost as fresh and fair as a girl's, large, dark brown expressive eyes, which held a light that in some mysterious manner appealed to peggy and drew her irresistibly. they were smiling eyes with a twinkle suggestive of a sense of humor, a sympathetic understanding of the view-point of those of fewer years, which the mouth beneath corroborated, for the lips held a little curve which often betrayed the inward emotions. her voice was soft and sweet and its intonation fell soothingly upon peggy's sensitive ears. taken altogether, her elder guest had already won peggy's heart, though she would have found it hard to explain why. and polly howland? to describe polly howland in cold print would be impossible, for polly was something of a chameleon. what peggy saw was a young girl not quite as tall as herself, but slightly heavier and straight and lithe as a willow. her fine head was topped with a great wavy mass of the deepest copper-tinted hair, perfectly wonderful hair, which glinted and flashed with every turn of the girl's head, and rolled back from a broad forehead white and clear as milk. the eyes beneath the forehead were a perfect cadet blue, with long lashes many shades darker than the hair. they were big eyes, expressive and constantly changing with polly's moods, now flashing, now laughing, again growing dark, deep and tender. the nose had an independent little tilt, but the mouth was exquisitely faultless and mobile and expressive to a rare degree. polly's eyes and mouth would have attracted attention anywhere. of course peggy did not take quite this analytical view of either of her guests, though in a vague way she felt it all and an odd sense of happiness filled her soul which she would have found it hard to explain. she led the way through the spacious hall and dining-room to the broad piazza from which the view was simply entrancing, and said: "won't you and miss howland be seated, mrs. harold; i am sure you must be hungry after your ride through this october air. we will have some refreshments and then go out to the paddock to see silver star." touching a little silver bell, which was promptly answered by jerome, she ordered: "something extra nice for my guests, jerome, and please send word to shelby that we will be out to the paddock in half an hour." "yes, missie, lamb, i gwine bring yo' a dish fitten f o' a queen." mrs. harold dropped into one of the big east india porch chairs, saying: "this is one of the most beautiful places i have ever seen. polly, dear, look at the wonderful reds of those wings contrasted with the foliage back of them. why have we never known of severndale? have you lived here long, miss stewart?" "would you mind calling me just peggy? miss stewart makes me feel so old and grown-up," said peggy unaffectedly. mrs. harold smiled approvingly and polly cried: "yes, doesn't it? i hate to be called miss howland. i'm not, anyway, for i have an older sister. have you, too?" "no," answered peggy. "i have no one in the world but daddy neil, and he is away nearly all the time. i wish he were not. i miss him terribly. he spent august with me and i have never before missed him as i do this time. i have always lived here, mrs. harold. i was born here," she concluded in reply to mrs. harold's question. "but your companions?" mrs. harold could not refrain from asking. peggy smiled. "that was daddy neil's deepest concern during his last visit. he had not thought much about it before, i guess. i dare say you will think it odd, but my companions are mostly four-footed ones, though i am--what shall i call it? guarded? chaperoned? cared for? by harrison, mammy lucy and jerome, with my legal guardian, dr. llewellyn to keep me within bounds. i dare say most people would consider it very unusual, but i am very happy and never lonely. yes, jerome, set the tray here, please," she ended as the butler returned bearing a large silver tray laden with a beautiful silver chocolate service, egg-shell cups straight from japan, a plate of the most delicate, flaky biscuits, divided, buttered and steaming, flanked by another plate piled high with little scallopededged nut cakes, just fresh from aunt cynthia's oven. taking her seat beside the table peggy poured and jerome served in his most dignified manner, while mrs. harold marveled more and more and polly thought she had never in all her life seen a girl quite like peggy. "it is one of the most beautiful places i have ever seen," said mrs. harold. "i am glad you like it, for i love it. few people know of it. i mean few who come to annapolis. i have lived here so quietly since mamma's death when i was six years old. daddy comes whenever he can, but he has asked for sea duty since mamma left us. he has missed her so." "in which class did your father graduate, miss peggy!" "in 18--, mrs. harold." "why then he must have been in the academy when mr. harold was there. he graduated two years later. i wonder if they knew each other. mr. harold would have been a youngster, and your father a first-classman, and first-classmen have been known to notice youngsters." peggy looked puzzled. although she had always lived within ten miles of the academy, she had never entered its gates, and knew nothing of its ways or rules. polly was wiser, having spent a month with her aunt. she laughed as she explained: "a first-classman is a lordly being who is generally at odds with a second-classman, but inclined to protect a third-classman, or youngster, simply because the second-classman is inclined to make life a burden for him, just as he in turn is ready to torment the life out of a fourthclassman, or plebe. i am just beginning to understand it. it seemed perfectly ridiculous at first, but i guess some of those boys are the better for the running they get. i've only been here since the first of october, but i've learned a whole lot in four weeks. maybe you will come over to see us some time and you will understand better then." "i'd love to, i am sure. but may i offer you something more? no? then perhaps we would better go down to the paddock." they stepped from the piazza and walked through the beautifully kept garden. on either side late autumn flowers were blooming, the box hedges were a deep, waxen green, and gave forth a rich, aromatic odor. polly cried: "i just can't believe that you--you--why that you are the mistress of all this. i don't believe you can be one bit older than i am." "i was fourteen last january," answered peggy simply. "and i fifteen last august," cried polly with the frankness of her years. "then you are exactly five months older than i am, aren't you?" peggy's smile was wonderfully winning. "and when i look at all this and hear you talk i feel just about five years younger," was polly's frank reply. "why i've never done a single thing in my life.'' "not one?" asked mrs. harold, smiling significantly. "oh well, nothing like all this," protested polly. they had now reached a large inclosure. at the further end were a number of low buildings, evidently stables. nearer at hand, outside the inclosure, were larger buildings--barns and offices. the inclosure was still soft and green in its carpeting of turf and patches of clover. eight or ten horses were running at large, free and halterless. further on was another inclosure in which several brood mares were grazing quietly or frisking about with, their colts. some had come to the high paling to gaze inquiringly at the strangers. "oh, tanta, tanta, just look at them," cried polly in a rapture. "and which is to be mine?" "none of those spindle-legs yonder," was peggy's amused answer. "they will be running at large for a long time yet. i don't even begin training them until they are a year old--at least not in anything but loving and obeying me. but most of them learn that very quickly. you must look in this paddock for silver star, miss polly. shall i call him?" "will he really come?" asked polly incredulously. for answer peggy slipped into the paddock, saying as she shot back the bolt: "we used to have a much simpler fastening, but they learned how to undo it and make their escape. for that reason we are obliged to have these high fences. they have a strain of hunter blood and a six-foot barrier doesn't mean much to some of them." how bonny the girl looked as she stood there. the horses which were in a little group near the buildings at the opposite end of the paddock, raised their heads inquiringly. the girl gave a long, clear whistle which was instantly answered by a chorus of loud neighs, as the group broke into a mad gallop and bore down upon her. it seemed to mrs. harold and polly as though the on-rushing creatures must bear her down, but just when the speed was the maddest, when heads were tossing most wildly, and tails and manes waving like banners, peggy cried: "halt! steady, my beauties!" and as one the beautiful animals came to a standstill their hoofs stirring up a cloud of dust, so suddenly did they brace their forefeet. the next second they were crowding around her, nuzzling her hair, her shoulders, her hands, evidently begging in silent eloquence for some expected dainty. peggy carried a small linen bag. she opened it and instantly the air was filled with the soft, bubbling whinny with which a horse begs. "quiet, meteor. be patient, don. wait, queen. oh, shashai, will you never learn manners?" she cried as her pet stretched his long neck and catching the little bag in his teeth snatched it from her hands, then, with all the delight of a child who has played a clever trick, away he dashed across the paddock. "shashai! shashai, how dare you! halt!" she called after him, but the graceful creature had no idea of halting. for a moment peggy looked at her guests very much as a baffled schoolmistress might look in the event of her pupil's open defiance, then cried: "this will never, never do. if he disobeys me once i shall never be able to do anything with him again. please excuse me a moment. i must catch him." "are you in the habit of chasing whirlwinds?" asked mrs. harold laughing. "you must be able to run faster than most people," laughed polly, but even as she spoke peggy cried: "star! star! come." and out from the group slipped a superb chestnut. he came close to the girl, slipping his beautiful head across her shoulder and nestling against her face with the affection of a child. she clasped her arm up around the satiny neck and said softly: "we must catch shashai, star," then turning like a flash, she rested one hand lightly upon his withers, gave a quick spring and sat astride the horse's back. polly gave a little cry and clasped her hands, her eyes sparkling with delight at this marvelous equestrian feat. mrs. harold was too amazed to speak. "after him! four bells, star," cried peggy, and away rushed the pair as though horse and rider were one creature, peggy's divided cloth skirt, which up to that moment mrs. harold had not noticed, fluttering back to reveal the nattiest little patent leather riding boots imaginable. it was one of the prettiest pictures mrs. harold and polly had ever beheld. but that race was not to end so quickly. shashai boasted the same blood as silver star, and was every bit as intelligent as his older brother. moreover he had no mind to give up his treasure-trove. he knew that little bag and its contents too well and was minded to carry it to the end of the paddock and there rend and tear it, until its contents were spilled and he could eat his companions' share as well as his own. and that was exactly what peggy did not propose to permit, either for his well-being or in justice to the other pets. as the extraordinary game of tag ranged around the big paddock, polly fairly danced up and down in excitement, crying: "tanta, tanta, i didn't know any one could ride like that girl. why it is more wonderful than a circus. and isn't she beautiful? oh, i want to know her better. i am sure she must be a perfect dear. why if i could ever ride half as well i'd be the proudest girl in the world." "and how simply and unostentatiously she does everything. polly, i suspect we shall be the richer for several things besides a handsome horse when we return to wilmot." meanwhile peggy was bearing down upon the thief and his plunder, though he darted and dodged like a cat, but in an unguarded moment he gave star the advantage and was cornered. "shashai, halt! steady. down. my pardon." never was human speech more perfectly understood and obeyed. the game was up and the superb horse stopped, dropped upon his knees and touched the ground with his muzzle, the bag still held in his teeth. "up, shashai," and the horse was again upon his feet. peggy reached over and taking hold of his flowing forelock led him back to the gate. nothing could have been more demure than the manner in which he minced along beside her. at the gate peggy slipped from star's back as snow slips from a sunny bank, and stretching forth her hand said: "give it to me, shashai." the mischievous colt dropped the bag into her hand. "good boy," and a caress rewarded the reformed one. then polly's enthusiasm broke forth. how had she ever done it? who had taught her to ride like that? could she, polly, ever hope to do so? peggy laughed gaily, and explained shelby's methods as best she could, giving a little outline of her life on the estate which held a peculiar interest for mrs. harold, who read more between the lines than peggy guessed, and who then and there resolved to know something more of this unusual girl to whose home they had been so curiously led. she had been thrown with young people all her life and loved them dearly, and here to her experienced eyes was a rare specimen of young girlhood and her heart warmed to her. "i'd give anything to ride as you do," said polly quite in despair of ever doing so. "why i can't remember when i haven't ridden. shelby put me on a horse when mammy lucy declared i was too tiny to sit in a chair, and oh, how i love it and them. it is all so easy, so free--so--i don't quite know how to express it. but i must not take any more of your time talking about myself. please excuse me for having talked so much. i wanted you to see silver star's paces but i did not plan to show them in just this way. but isn't he a dear? i don't know how i can let him go away from severndale, but he as well as the others must. we sent columbine only a few days ago. she has the sweetest disposition of any horse i have ever trained. it nearly broke my heart to send her off. they are all relatives. shashai and star are half-brothers. shashai is my very own and i shall never sell him. would you like to try star, miss polly? i can get you a riding skirt. shall you ride cross or side? he is trained for both." "not today, i think," answered mrs. harold for polly. "we must make our arrangements for star and then we will see about riding lessons. i wish you would undertake to teach polly." "oh, would you really let me teach her?" cried peggy enthusiastically. "i think the obligation would be all on the other side," laughed mrs. harold. "it would be a privilege too great to claim." "there would be no obligation whatever. i'd just love to," cried peggy eagerly. "why it would be perfectly lovely to have her come out here every day. please walk back to the house and let us talk it over," peggy's eyes were sparkling. "oh, tanta, may i?" "slowly, polly. my head is beginning to swim with so many ideas crowding into it," but polly howland knew from the tone that the day was as good as won. chapter vi a friendship begins as they walked back to the house the girls talked incessantly, mrs. harold listening intently but saying very little. she was drawing her own conclusions, which were usually pretty shrewd ones. commander harold had for the past four years been stationed either at the naval academy, or on sea duty on board the rhode island when she made her famous cruise around the world. mrs. harold had remained at wilmot hall during the winter of 1907 and 1908, polly's sister constance spending it with her. later commander harold had duty at the academy, but recently with his new commission, for he had been a commander only a few months, he had been given one of the new cruisers and was at sea once more. they had no children, their only child having died many years before, but mrs. harold, loving young people as she did, was never without them near her. this winter her niece, polly howland, would remain with her and she was anxious to make the winter a happy one for the young girl. this she had a rare opportunity of doing, for her pretty sitting-room in wilmot hall was a gathering place for the young people of the entire neighborhood and the midshipmen in particular, who loved it dearly and were devoted to its mistress, loving her with the devotion of sons, and invariably calling her "the little mother," and her sitting-room "middies' haven." and a happier little rendezvous it would have been hard to find, for mrs. harold loved her big foster-sons dearly, strove in every way to make the place a home for them and to develop all that was best in their diverse characters. it was to this home that polly had come to pass the winter and now a new phase had developed, the outcome of what seemed to be chance, but it is to be questioned whether anything in this great world of ours is the outcome of chance. if so wisely ordered in some respects, why not in all? so it is not surprising that mrs. harold watched and listened with rare sympathy and a keen intuition as the girls walked a little ahead of her, talking together as freely and frankly as though they had known each other for years instead of hours only. "couldn't you come out on the electric car every morning?" peggy was asking. "if you could do that for about two weeks i am sure you would be able to ride beautifully at the end of them." "not in the morning, i'm afraid. you see i am an annapolis co-ed," polly answered laughing gaily at peggy's mystified expression. "yes i am, truly. you see i came down here to spend the winter with aunt janet because she is lonely when uncle glenn is away. but, of course, i can't just sit around and do nothing, or frolic all the time. had i remained at home i should have been in my last year at high school, but tanta doesn't want me to go to the one down here. oh we've had the funniest discussions. first she thought she'd engage a governess for me, and we had almost settled on that when the funniest little thing changed it all. isn't it queer how just a little thing will sometimes turn your plans all around?" "what changed yours?" asked peggy, more deeply interested in this new acquaintance and the new world she was introducing her into than she had ever been in anything in her life. "you'll laugh at me, i dare say, if i tell you, but i don't mind. up at my own home in montgentian, n. j., i had a boy chum. we have known each other since we were little tots and always played together. he is two years older than i am, but i was only a year behind him when he graduated from the high last spring. my goodness, how i worked to catch up, for i was ashamed to let him be so far ahead of me. i couldn't quite catch up, though, and he graduated a year ahead of me in spite of all i could do. then he took a competitive examination for annapolis and passed finely, entering the academy last june. i was just tickled to death for we are just like brother and sister, we have been together so much. then tanta sent for me and i came back with her on september 30. one day we were over in the yard and the boys--men, i dare say i ought to call them, for some of them are tall as bean poles, only they have all been aunt janet's 'boys' ever since they entered the academy--were teasing me, and telling me i couldn't work with ralph any longer. i got mad then and said i guessed i could work with him if i saw fit, and i meant to, too. oh, they laughed and jeered at me until i could have slapped every single one of them, but i then and there made up my mind to follow this year's academic course if i died in the attempt, and when we went home i talked it all over with aunt janet. she's such a dear, and always ready to listen to anything we young people have to tell her. so i really am a co-ed. yes, i am; i knew you'd smile. i have an instructor, a retired captain, a friend of aunt janet's, who lives at wilmot, and aunt janet has rented an extra room next mine for a schoolroom, and every morning at nine o'clock captain pennell and i settle down to real hard work. i have 'math' and mechanical drawing just exactly as ralph has, and the same french, spanish and english course, but what i love best of all is learning all about a boat and how to sail her, how to swim, and the gym work. and captain pennell is teaching me how to fence and to shoot with a rifle and a revolver. oh, it is just heaps and heaps of fun. i didn't dream a girl could learn all those things, but captain pennell is such a dear and so interesting. he seems to have something new for each day. but how aunt janet's boys do run me and ask me when i'm coming out for cutter drill, or field artillery or any old thing they know i can't do. but never mind. i know just exactly what all their old orders mean, and i am learning all about our splendid big ships and the guns and everything just as fast as ever i can. but, my goodness, i shall talk you to death. mother says i never know when to stop once i get started. i beg your pardon," and polly looked quite abashed as they drew near the piazza. "why i think it is all perfectly fascinating. how i'd love to do some of those things. i can shoot and swim and sail my boat, but i've never been in a gymnasium or done any of those interesting things. i wish compadre could hear all about it. they wanted to send me away to a big finishing school this winter but i begged so hard for one more year's freedom that daddy neil consented, but i think he would love to have me know about the things you are learning." "oh, tanta, couldn't we make some sort of a bargain? couldn't peggy come to us three days of the week and work with captain pennell and me, and then i come out three to learn to ride?" peggy's eyes shone as she listened. she had not realized how hungry she had been for young companionship until this sunny-souled young girl had dropped into her little world. mrs. harold smiled sympathetically upon the enthusiastic pair. "perhaps we can make a mutually beneficial bargain," she said. "i think i shall accept silver star upon your recommendation, miss peggy, and what i have already seen. then if you are willing to undertake it, polly shall be taught to ride by you, and you in turn must come to us at wilmot to join captain pennell's class of fencing, gym work or whatever else seems wise or you wish to. but who must decide the question, dear?" how unconsciously she had dropped into the term of endearment with this young girl. it was so much a part of her nature to do so. peggy's cheeks became rose-tinted with pleasure, and her eyes alight with happiness. her smile was radiant as she slipped to mrs. harold's side saying: "oh, if compadre were only here to decide it right away. he is my guardian you know, and, of course, i must do as he wishes, but i hope--oh i hope, he will let me do this." "and what is it you so wish to do, filiola?" asked a gentle voice within the room. peggy gave a little cry of delight. "oh, compadre, when did you come? we have just been talking about you," cried peggy, flitting to the side of the tall, handsome old gentleman and slipping her arm about him as his encircled her shoulder, and he looked down upon her with a pair of benign dark eyes as he answered: "i have been luxuriating and feasting for the past half hour while waiting for a truant ward. jerome took pity upon me and fed me to keep me in a good temper. "oh, compadre, i want you to know my new friend, mrs. harold and her niece, polly howland. we have been having the loveliest visit together." dr. llewellyn advanced to meet the guests, one arm still encircling his ward, the other extended to take mrs. harold's hand as he said: "this is a great pleasure, madam. to judge by my little girl's face she has found a congenial companion. i am more than delighted to meet both aunt and niece." "and we are almost the same age! isn't that lovely!" cried polly. dr. llewellyn exchanged a significant glance with mrs. harold, then asked: "have you imparted your peculiar power to your niece, mrs. harold?" mrs. harold looked mystified. "i am afraid i don't quite understand," she smiled. "your chaplain at the academy is an old friend of mine. we occasionally hobnob over the chess board and a modest glass of wine. i hear of things beyond round bay and severndale; i am interested in that gathering of young men in the academy and often ask questions. the chaplain is deeply concerned for their welfare and has told me many things, among others something of a certain lady to whom they are devoted and who has a remarkable influence over them. it has interested me, too, for they are at the most impressionable, susceptible period of their lives and a wise influence can do much for them. i am glad to meet 'the little mother of middies' haven.'" dr. llewellyn's eyes twinkled as he spoke. mrs. harold blushed like a girl as she asked: "have my sins found me out?" "it is a pity we could not find all 'sins' as salutary. i may be a retired old clergyman, with no greater responsibilities upon my shoulders than keeping one unruly little girl within bounds," he added, giving a tweak to peggy's curls, "and looking after her father's estate-i tutored him when he was a lad--but i hear echoes of the doings of the outer world now and again. yes--yes, now and again, and when they are cheering echoes i rejoice greatly. but let us be seated and hear the wonderful news which will cause an explosion presently unless the safety-valves are opened," he concluded, placing chairs for mrs. harold and polly with courtly grace. they talked for an hour and at its end dr. llewellyn and mrs. harold had settled upon a plan which caused peggy and polly to nearly prance for joy. mrs. harold was to talk it over with captain pennell and phone out to severndale the next morning, and if all went well, peggy would go to annapolis to take up certain branches of the work with polly, and in the intervening mornings continue her work with dr. llewellyn, and polly in return would spend three afternoons with her. star was hired then and there for the winter, but would live at severndale until polly's horse-woman-ship was a little more to be relied upon. before mrs. harold and polly realized where the afternoon had gone it was time to return to annapolis. they were driven to the station by jess, peggy and dr. llewellyn riding beside the carriage on shashai and dr. claudius, dr. llewellyn's big dapple-gray hunter, for the old clergyman was an aristocrat to his fingertips and lived the life of his maryland forebears, at seventy sitting his horse as he had done in early manhood, and even occasionally following the hounds. it was a pretty sight to see him and peggy ride, his great horse making its powerful strides, while shashai flitted along like a swallow, full of all manner of little conceits and pranks though absolutely obedient to peggy's lowspoken words, or knee-pressure, for the bridle rein was a quite superfluous adjunct to her riding gear, and she would have ridden without a saddle but for conventionalities. they bade their guests good-bye at the little station, and rode slowly back to severndale in the golden glow of the late afternoon, peggy talking incessantly and the good doctor occasionally asking a question or telling her something of the world over in the academy of which she knew so little, but of which fate seemed to have ordained she should soon know much more. there was a quiet little talk up in middies' haven that evening, and captain pennell learned from mrs. harold of the little girl up at round bay. he was not only willing to accept peggy as a second pupil, but delighted to welcome the addition to his "co-ed institution" as he called it. he had grown very fond of his pupil in the brief time she had worked with him, but felt sure that a little competition would lend zest to the work. he was deeply interested in the novel plan and wished his pupil to give her old chum and schoolmate a lively contest. moreover, he was a lonely man whom ill-health and sorrow had left little to expect from life. his wife and only daughter had died in guam soon after the end of the spanish war, in which he had received the wound which had incapacitated him for service and forced him to retire in what should have been the prime of life. since that hour he had lived only to kill time; the deadliest fate to which a human being can be condemned. until polly entered his lonely world it would have been hard to picture a duller life than he led, but her sunshiny soul seemed to have reflected some of its light upon him, and he was happier than he had been in years. it is safe to say that the description of peggy, her home, her horses and all pertaining to her, lost nothing in polly's telling and it was agreed that she should become a special course co-ed upon the following monday. and out at severndale an equally eager, enthusiastic little body was awaiting the ringing of the telephone bell, and when at nine o'clock sunday morning its cheerful jingling summoned peggy from her breakfast table, she was as happy as she well could be and promised faithfully to be at wilmot at nine o'clock the following morning. and so began a friendship destined to last as long as the girls lived, and the glorious autumn days were filled with delights for them both. to peggy it was a wonderful world. the tuesday following polly went to severndale and her first riding lesson began, with more or less quaking upon her part, it must be confessed. she felt tremendously high up in the air when she first found herself upon silver star's back. but he behaved like a gentleman, seeming to realize that the usual order of things was being reversed and that he was teaching instead of being taught. so, in spite of shashai's wicked hints for a prank, he conducted himself in a manner most exemplary and polly went back to wilmot hall as enthusiastic as she well could be. mrs. harold had invited peggy to spend the week-end at wilmot. she wished her to meet some of polly's friends and she, herself, wished to know the young girl better. so dr. llewellyn's permission was asked and promptly granted, and with his consent won that of harrison and mammy lucy was a mere form. nevertheless, peggy was too wise to overlook asking, for harrison fancied herself the embodiment of the law, and mammy lucy, in her own estimation at least, stood for the dignity of the stewart family. and the preparations for the little week-end visit were undertaken with a degree of ceremony which might have warranted a trip to europe. peggy's suitcase was packed by mammy's own hands, harrison hovering near to make sure that nothing was overlooked, to mammy's secret disgust, for she felt herself fully capable of attending to it. then came the question of going in, peggy very naturally expecting to go by the electric car as she had during the week. but no! such an undignified entrance into wilmot was not to be thought of. she must be driven in by jess. "but mammy, how ridiculous," protested peggy. "i can get a boy at the station to carry my suitcase to the hotel." mammy looked at her in disdain. "git one ob dem no 'count dirty little nigger boys what hangs round dat railway station to tote yo' shute case, a-tailin' long behime yo' for all de worl lak a tromp. what yo' 'spose yo' pa would say to we-all if we let yo' go a-visitin' in amy sich style as dat, an' yo' a stewart an' de daughter ob a naval officer who's gwine visit de wife ob one ob his 'cademy frien's! chile, yo's cl'ar crazy. yo' go in de proper style lemme tell yo', or yo' aim gwine go 'tall. yo' hear me?" and peggy had to meekly submit, realizing that there were some laws which even a stewart might not violate. so on saturday afternoon comet and meteor tooled the surrey along by beautiful woodland and field, peggy clad in her pretty autumn suit and hat, her suitcase at jess' feet, and herself as properly dignified as the occasion demanded, while in her secret heart she resolved to enlist mrs. harold upon her side and in future make her visits with less ceremony. chapter vii peggy stewart: chatelaine peggy had entered a new world. plunged into one, would perhaps better express it, so sudden had been her entrance, and her letters to daddy neil, now on his way to guantanamo for the fall drills, were full of an enthusiasm which almost bewildered him and started a new train of thought. as he knew most members of the personnel of the ships comprising the atlantic fleet, he, of course, knew commander harold, though it had never occurred to him to associate him with annapolis, or to make any inquiry regarding his home or his connections. like many another, he was merely a fellow-officer. he was not a classmate, so his interest was less keen than it would have been had such been the case. moreover, harold was in a different division of the fleet and they very rarely met. but now the whole situation was changed by peggy's letter. he would hunt up mr. harold at the first opportunity and with this common interest to bind them, much pleasure was in store. true to her word, peggy sent her letter off every sunday afternoon--a conscientious report of the week's happenings. her "log," she called it, and it was the comfort of daddy neil's life. meanwhile, she spent about half of her time with mrs. harold and polly, and in a very short time became as good a chum of mrs. harold's "boys," the midshipmen, as was polly. there was always something doing over at the academy, and as mrs. harold's guest, peggy was naturally included. at present football practice was absorbing the interest of the academic world and its friends, for in a few weeks the big army-navy game would take place up in philadelphia and mrs. harold had already invited peggy to go to it with her party. peggy had never even seen a practice game until taken over to the naval academy field with her friends, where the boys teased her unmercifully because she asked why they didn't "have a decently shaped round ball instead of a leather watermelon which wouldn't do a thing but flop every which way, and call it tussle-ball instead of football?" there was a little circle which gathered about mrs. harold, and which was always alluded to as "her big children." these were men from the different classes in the academy, for there were no "class rates" in "middies' haven," as they called her sitting-room. peggy met them all, though, naturally, there were some she liked better than others. among the upper-classmen who would graduate in the spring were three who were at middies' haven whenever there was the slightest excuse for being there. these boys who seemed quite grown-up men to fourteen-year-old peggy, though she soon lost her shyness with them, and learned that they could frolic as well as the younger ones, went by the names of happy, wheedles and shortie, the latter so nicknamed because he was six feet, four inches tall, though the others' nicknames had been bestowed because they really fitted. there were also two or three second-classmen and youngsters who frequently visited mrs. harold, one in particular, who fascinated every one with whom he came in touch. his name was durand leroux, and, strange to state, he looked enough like peggy to be her own brother, yet try as they would, no vestige of a relationship could be traced, for peggy came of purely southern stock while durand claimed new england for his birthplace. nevertheless, it became a good joke and they were often spoken of as the twins, though durand was three years peggy's senior. polly's chum, ralph wilbur, was about the same age as durand, though in the lowest or fourth class, having just entered the academy, and consequently was counted as very small fry indeed. he was a quiet, undemonstrative chap but peggy liked him from the moment she met him. he had mastered one important bit of knowledge: that a "plebe" does well to lie low, and as the result of mastering that salient fact he was well liked by the upper-classmen and found them ready to do him a good many friendly turns which a more "raty" fourth-classman would not have found coming his way. altogether, peggy found herself a member of a very delightful little circle and was happier than she had ever been in her life. in mrs. harold she found the love she had missed without understanding it, and in polly a companion who filled her days with delight. and what busy days they were. so full of plans, duties and pleasures, for mrs. harold had been very quick to understand the barrenness of peggy's life in spite of her rich supply of this world's goods, and she promptly set about rounding it out as it should have been. and so november with its wonderful indian summer slipped on, and it was during one of these ideal days that an absurd episode took place upon the well-conducted estate of severndale, which caused peggy to be run most unmercifully by the boys. but before we can tell of it a few words of explanation are needed. as can be readily understood, in a large institution like the naval academy, where the boys foregather from every state in the union, there are all classes and all types represented. among them are splendid, fine principled fellows, with high moral standards and unimpeachable characters. and there are, alas, those of another type also, and these are the ones who invariably make trouble for others and are pretty sure to disgrace themselves. fortunately, this type rarely survives the four years' crucial test of character, efficiency and aptitude, but is pretty sure to "pack its little grip and fade away," as the more eligible ones express it, long before it comes time to receive a diploma. unhappily, there was one man in the present first class who had managed to remain in the academy in spite of conduct which would have "bilged" (academy slang for the man who has to drop out) a dozen others, and who was the source of endless trouble for under-classmen over whom he contrived to exert a wholly malign influence. he seemed to be not only utterly devoid of principle and finer feeling, but to take a perfectly fiendish delight in corrupting the younger boys. his one idea of being "a man" seemed to lie in the infringement of every regulation of the academy, and to induce others to do likewise. he had caused the president of his class endless trouble and mortification, and distressed mrs. harold beyond measure, for her interest in all in the academy was very keen, and especially in the younger boys, whom she knew to be at the most susceptible period of their lives. had his folly been confined to mere boyish nonsense it might have been overlooked, but it had gone on from folly to vicious conduct and his boast was that it was his duty to harden the plebes, his idea of hardening them being to get them intoxicated. now if there is one infringement of rules more sure to bring retribution upon the perpetrator than any other, it is intoxication, and the guilty one is most summarily dealt with. this was fully known to blue, the delinquent referred to, but he had by some miraculous method thus far managed to escape conviction if not suspicion, though more than one unfortunate under-classman had been forced to tender his resignation as the result of going the pace with blue. so serious had the situation become that the president of the first class had quietly set about a little plan in cooperation with other members of his class which would be pretty sure to rid the academy of its undesirable acquisition. it was only a question of giving blue enough time to work his own undoing, and as things had begun to shape, this seemed pretty sure to take place. naturally, with feeling running so strong, peggy heard a good deal of it when she visited middies' haven, especially since durand leroux, whom she had grown to like so well, seemed to have been selected by blue as his newest victim, greatly to mrs. harold's distress, for she knew durand to be far too easily led, and too generous and unsuspicious to believe evil of any one. happy-golucky, carefree and ever ready for any frolic, he was exactly the type to fall a victim to blue's insidious influence, for blue could be fascinating to a degree when it served his turn. blue was debarred the privilege of visiting middies' haven, and his resentment of this prompted him to try to wreak his vengeance upon mrs. harold's boys. to their credit be it told that he had hitherto failed, but she had misgivings of durand; he was too mercurial. now peggy had, as chatelaine of severndale, been more than once obliged to order the dismissal of some of the temporary hands employed about the paddock, for shelby was rigid upon the rule of temperance. he would have no bibblers near the animals under his charge. he had seen too much trouble caused by such worthless employees. consequently, peggy was wise beyond her years to the gravity of intemperance and had expressed herself pretty emphatically when blue was discussed within the privacy of middies' haven, for what was told there was sacred. that was an unwritten law. and all this led to a ridiculous situation one day in the middle of november, for comedy and tragedy usually travel side by side in this world. it fell upon an ideal saturday afternoon, a half-holiday at the academy. it also happened to be wheedles' birthday, and mrs. harold never let a birthday pass without some sort of a celebration if it were possible to have one. she had told peggy about it, and peggy had promptly invited a little party up to round bay. now visiting for the midshipmen beyond the confines of the town of annapolis is forbidden, but mrs. harold, as the wife of an officer, was at liberty to take out a party of friends in one of the academy launches, so she promptly got together a congenial dozen, ralph, happy, shortie, wheedles and durand, captain pennell and four others besides polly and herself, and in the crispness of the indian summer afternoon, steamed away up the severn to round bay. peggy had asked the privilege of providing the birthday feast and understanding the pleasure it would give her to do so, mrs. harold had agreed most readily. so immediately after luncheon formation the party embarked at the foot of maryland avenue and a gayer one it would have been hard to find. knowing the average boy's appetite and the midshipman's in particular, mrs. harold had, with commendable forethought, brought with her a big box of crullers, in nowise disturbed by the thought that it might spoil their appetites for the delayed luncheon. breakfast is served at seven a.m. in bancroft hall, and the interval between that and twelve-thirty luncheon is long enough at best. if you add to that another hour and a half it is safe to conclude that starvation will be imminent. hence her box of crullers to avoid such a calamity. the launch puffed and chugged its way up the river, running alongside the pretty severndale dock sharp to the minute of four bells. peggy stood ready to welcome them. "oh, isn't this lovely. scramble ashore as fast as you can, for aunt cynthia is crazy lest her fried chicken 'frazzle ter a cinder,'" she cried as she greeted her guests. "who said fried chicken?" cried happy. "that last cruller you warned me against eating never fazed me a bit, little mother," asserted wheedles, as he assisted mrs. harold up the stone steps leading from the dock. "beat you in a race to the lawn, polly," shouted ralph, back in boyhood's world now that he was beyond the bounds of bancroft, and the next moment he and polly were racing across the lawn like a pair of children, for it seemed so good to be away for a time from the unrelaxing discipline of the academy, and polly realized this as well as the others. "we are to have luncheon out under the oaks," said peggy. "it is too heavenly a day to be indoors. jerome and mammy have everything ready so we have nothing to do but eat. you won't mind picnicking will you, mrs. harold." "mind!" echoed mrs. harold. "why it is simply ideal, peggy dear. what do you say, sons?" she asked turning to the others. "say! say! let's give the four-n yell right off for peggy stewart, chatelaine of severndale!" cried wheedles, and out upon the clear, crisp autumn air rang the good old navy cheer: "n--n--n--n! a--a--a--a! v--v--v--v! y--y--y--y! navy! peggy stewart! peggy stewart! peggy stewart!" peggy's cheeks glowed and her eyes shone. it was something to win that cheer from these lads, boys at heart, though just at manhood's morning, and sworn to the service of their flag. how she wished daddy neil could hear it. captain pennell, into whose life during the past month had come some incentive to live, joined in the yell with a will, giving his cap a toss into the air when the echoes of it went floating out over the severn, while mrs. harold and polly waved their sweaters wildly, and yelled with all their strength. never had severndale been more beautiful than upon that november afternoon. october's rich coloring had given place to the dull reds, burnt-umbers, and rich wood browns of late autumn, though the grass was still green underfoot, and the holly and fir trees greener by contrast. and peggy was in her element. never in all her short life had she been so happy. all the instincts of her stewart ancestors with their southern hospitality was finding expression as she led the way to a grove of mighty oaks, tinged by night frosts to the richest maroon, and literally kings of their surroundings, for the deep umber tones of the beeches only served to emphasize their coloring. beneath them was spread a long table fairly groaning with suggestions of the feast to come, and near it, flanked by jerome and mammy, stood dr. llewellyn. as the party came laughing, scrambling or walking toward it he advanced to welcome mrs. harold, saying: "did you realize that there would be thirteen at the feast unless a fourteenth could be pressed into service? consider me as merely a necessary adjunct, please, and don't let the young people regard me as a kill-joy because i wear a long coat buttoned straight up to my chin. the only difference really is that i have to keep mine buttoned whereas they have to hook their collars," and the good doctor laughed. introductions followed and then no time was lost in seating the luncheon party. then came a moment's pause. peggy understood and mrs. harold's intuition served her. she nodded to dr. llewellyn, and none there ever forgot the light which illumined the fine old face as he bowed his head and said softly in his beautifully modulated voice as though speaking to a loved companion. "father, for a world so beautiful, for a day so perfect, for the joy and privilege of association with these young people, and the new life which they infuse into ours, we older ones thank thee. bring into their lives all that is finest, truest, purest and best--true manhood and womanhood. amen." not a boy or girl but felt the beauty of those simple words and remembered them for many a day. the grove was not far enough from the house to chance the ruin of any of aunt cynthia's dainties. a grassy path led straight to it from her kitchen and at the conclusion of dr. llewellyn's grace peggy nodded slightly to jerome who in turn nodded to mammy lucy, who passed the nod along to some invisible individual, the series of nods bringing about a result which nearly wrecked the dignity of the entire party, for out from behind the long brick building in which aunt cynthia ruled supreme, filed a row of little darkies each burdened with a dish, each barefooted, each immaculate in little white shirt and trousers, each solemnly rolling eyes, the whites of which rivaled his shirt, and each under cynthia's dire threat of having his "haid busted wide open if he done tripped or spilled a thing," walking as though treading upon eggs. along they came, their eyes fixed upon jerome, for literally they were "between the devil and the deep sea," jerome and cynthia being at the beginning and end of that path. jerome and mammy received and placed each steaming dish, the very personification of dignity, and in nowise disconcerted by the titter, which soon broke into a full-lunged shout, at the piccaninnies' solemn faces. it was all too much for good captain pennell and the boys, and any "ice" which might possibly have congealed the party, was then and there smashed to smithereens. "great! great!" shouted captain pennell, clapping his hands like a boy. "eh, this is going some," cried happy. "bully for chatelaine peggy!" was wheedles' outburst. "who says severndale isn't all right?" echoed ralph. "peggy, this is simply delicious," praised mrs. harold. peggy glowed and jerome and mammy beamed, while the little darkies beat a grinning retreat to confide excitedly to aunt cynthia: "dem gemmens an' ladies yonder in de grove was so mighty pleased dat dey jist nachally bleiged fer ter holler and laugh." far from proving drawbacks to the feast the captain and the doctor entered heart and soul into the frolic, the doctor as host, slyly nodding to the ever alert jerome or mammy to replenish plates, the captain waxing reminiscent and telling many an amusing tale, and mrs. harold beaming happily upon all, while to and from cynthia's realm ran the little darkies full of enthusiasm for "dem midshipmen mens who suah could eat fried chicken, corn fritters, glazed sweet 'taters, and waffles nuff fer ter bust most mens." certainly, aunt cynthia knew her business and if ever a picnic feast was appreciated, that one was. but the climax came with the dessert. chapter viii a shocking demonstration of intemperance the merrymaking was at its height. the festive board had been cleared for dessert. "cleared for action," captain pennell said. "not heavy fire i hope," sighed shortie. "peggy, will you excuse me, but i have surely got to let out a reef if anything more is coming," and shortie let out a hole or two in the leather belt which encircled the region into which innumerable waffles had disappeared. "there are others; yes there are certainly others," laughed the captain. "peggy, my child, to play circe and still smile is absolutely cruel. the ancient circe frowned upon her victims." "and how can i swallow another morsel," was polly's wail. "peggy stewart, why will you have so many good things all at once? couldn't you have spread it out over several meals and let us have it on the instalment plan?" "wheedles couldn't have his birthday that way," laughed peggy, unwittingly letting a cat escape from a bag, for woe upon the midshipman whose birthday is known. thus far wheedles had kept it a profound secret, and mrs. harold and polly, who were wise to what was likely to happen to him if it were known, had kept mum. but, alack, they had forgotten to warn peggy and her words touched off the mine. "eh? what? never! something doing? you're a sly one. thought you'd get off scot-free, did you? not on your sweet life! let's give him what for. excuse this digression, peggy; it's a ceremony never omitted. it would have been attended to earlier in the day had we suspected, and it can't be delayed any longer. besides we must shake down that which has gone before if more is to follow. beg pardon, little mother, but you know the traditions. make our peace with dr. llewellyn for this little sideshow," and the next second wheedles was in full flight with all his chums hotfoot upon his trail. how in the world those boys could run as they did after such a feast without apoplexy following, must remain a mystery to all excepting those who have lived in their midst. over the lawn, dodging behind the oaks, vaulting the fence into the adjoining field, to the consternation of half a dozen sleek, sedate alderney cows, tore wheedles, his pursuers determined to overhand him and administer the drubbing incident to the iniquity of having a birthday. dr. llewellyn and captain pennell rose to their feet, one shouting, the other yelling with the rest of the mob, while mrs. harold and the girls could only sit and laugh helplessly. it was shortie's long legs which overtook the quarry, both coming to the ground with a crash which would have killed outright any one but a football tackle and a basket-ball captain. in a second the whole bunch had the laughing, helpless victim. "look the other way please, people," called shortie, promptly placing wheedles across his knee--two men holding his arms, two more his kicking legs--while shortie properly and deliberately administered twenty sounding spanks. then releasing him he said to the others who were nothing loath: "finish the job. i've done my part and i've had one corking big feed." and they finished it by holding poor wheedles by his shoulders and feet and bumping him upon the grass until he must have seen stars--and the dinner was well shaken down. "now will you try to get away from us?" they demanded, putting him upon his feet. "it's all over but the shouting, little mother, and we'll be good," they laughed as they trooped back to the table, settling blouses, and giving hasty pats to their dishevelled pates, for wheedles had certainly given them a run for their money. meanwhile, jerome and mammy had looked on half in consternation, half in glee, for where is your pure-blooded african, old or young, who doesn't sympathize with monkey-shines? as the administrators of justice were in the midst of their self-imposed duties, the half-dozen little darky servitors appeared around the corner of the house bearing the dessert, and there is no telling what might have happened to it had not aunt cynthia, hearing the uproar, and "cravin' fer ter know ef de rown' worl' was a-comin' to an end," followed close behind her satellites. that great mold of ice cream, mound of golden wine jelly, dishes of cakes galore would certainly have met total destruction but for her prompt and emphatic command: "yo' chillern 'tend to yo' bisness an' nemmine what gwine on over yander." that saved the feast, for the little darkies were convinced that "one ob dose young mens liked ter be kill fer suah." had it been mid-july instead of a maryland november that ice cream could not have vanished more quickly, and in the process of its disappearance, jerome vanished also. this was not noticed by peggy's guests, but his return was hailed with first a spontaneous shout and then a: "rah! rah! hoohrah! hoohrah! navy hoohrah!" and "oh that's some cake!" "nothing the matter with that edifice." "who said we couldn't eat any more?" for with the dignity of a majordomo jerome bore upon its frilled paper doily a huge chocolate layer cake, ornately decorated with yellow icing, and twenty dark blue candles, their yellow flames barely flickering in the still air, while behind him walked his little trenchermen, one bearing a big glass pitcher of amber cider, another, dishes of nuts, and another a tray of mammy lucy's home-made candies. if ever a birthday cake was enjoyed and appreciated, certainly that one was, and there is no telling how long the merry party would have lingered over the nuts, candies and cider had not a startling interruption taken place. the afternoon was well advanced. mrs. harold, the captain and dr. llewellyn had reached the limit of their appetites and were now watching and listening to the merry chatter of the young people who sat sipping the cider--they had long since passed beyond the drinking point--and eating the black walnuts and hickory nuts which had been gathered upon the estate, for severndale was famous for its cider and nuts. the cider was made from a brand of apples which had been grown in the days of peggy's great-grandfather and carefully cultivated for years. they ripened late, and needed a touch of frost to perfect them. the ciderhouse and press stood just beyond the meadow in which the severndale cows led a luxurious life of it, and the odor of the rich fruit invariably drew a line of them to the dividing fence, where they sniffed and peered longingly at "forbidden fruit." but if every dog, as we are told, has his day, certainly a cow may hope to have hers some time. that it should have happened to be wheedles' day also was merely accidental. as in most respectable communities there is almost invariably an individual or two whose conduct is open to criticism, so in severndale's eminently irreproachable herd of sleek kine there was one obstreperous creature and her offspring. they were possessed to do the things their more well conducted sisters never thought of doing. the cow had a strain of distinctly plebian blood which, transmitted to her calf, probably accounted for their eccentricities. if ever a fence was broken through, if ever a brimming pail of milk was overturned, if a stable towel was chewed to ribbons, a feed bin rifled, it could invariably be traced to betsy brindle and her incorrigible daughter sally simple, and this afternoon they surpassed themselves. as peggy's guests sat in that blissful state of mind and body resulting from being "serenely full, the epicure would say," they were startled by an altogether rowdy, abandoned "moo-oo-oo-oo," echoed in a higher key, and over the lawn came two as disreputable-looking animals as one could picture, for betsy brindle and her daughter, a pretty little year-old heifer, were unquestionably, undeniably, hopelessly intoxicated. betsy was swaying and staggering from side to side, wagging her head foolishly and mooing in the most maudlin manner, while sally, whose potations affected her quite differently, was cavorting madly thither and yonder, one moment almost standing upon her head, with hind legs and tail waving wildly in midair, the next with the order reversed and pawing frantically at the clouds. behind the arrant ones in mad chase and consternation came the young negro lad whose duty it was to see that the cattle were properly housed at nightfall. he had gone to the meadow for his charges only to find these incorrigibles, as upon many another occasion, missing. how long they had been at large he could not guess. at last, after long search, he discovered them in the inclosure where the barreled apples were kept and two whole barrels rifled. when this had taken place his african mind did not analyze, though a scientist could have told him almost to an hour and explained also that in the cows' double stomachs the apples had promptly fermented and become highly intoxicating, with the present result. but poor cicero was petrified. his young mistress entertaining "de quality" and his unruly charges scandalizing her by tearing into their very midst. "moo--o--moo, e--moooo--" bellowed betsy, making snake tracks across the lawn. "moo, moo, moo, moo, mooee--" echoed sally in lively staccato, doing a wild highland fling with quite original steps. "hi dar! come 'long away. get off en dat lawn. come away from dat 'ar pa'ty," screamed cicero. "ma lawd-a-mighty, dem cows gwine 'grace me an' ruin me fer evah," and it would doubtless have proved true had not the boys sprung to their feet to join in the cowherd's duties, only too ready for any prank which presented an outlet for their fun-loving souls. shortie promptly took command of the defending forces, and crying: "come on, fellows, head the old lady off before she knocks the table endwise," was off with a rush, the others hotfoot after him, waving arms and shouting until poor old betsy brindle's addled head must have thought all the imps of the lower regions turned loose upon her. circling wide, the boys made a complete barrier beyond which the poor tipsy cow dared not force her way. so with a hopelessly pathetic "moo" and a look at her adversaries which might have done credit to the mock turtle of lewis carrol's creation, she surrendered forthwith, and promptly flopped down in the middle of the lawn. not so her daughter. not a bit of it! she had not finished her fling and never did madder chase ensue than the one which at length ended in effectually cornering the flighty one. "lemme tote her home. fer de lawd's sake, sah, lemme tote her home quick, 'fore unc' jess an' missie peggy kill me daid," begged cicero. "you tote her home, you spindly little shaver! she'd part her cable and go adrift in half a minute after you got under way. come on, boys, we've got to convoy this craft into her home port. make fast," and with the experience of three years' training in seamanship, shortie and his companions proceeded to make fast the recalcitrate sally, and amidst hoots and yells calculated to sober up the most hopeless inebriate, they led her to her barn where cicero read her the riot act as he fastened her in her stall. meanwhile betsy had succumbed to slumber and at dr. llewellyn's suggestion was left to sleep off the effects of her overindulgence. when the boys got back from the barn poor peggy was run unmercifully. "and we thought severndale a model home. a well-conducted establishment. yet the very first time we come out here we find even the cows with a jag on that a confirmed toper couldn't equal if he tried, and yet you pose as a model young woman, peggy stewart, and are accepted in all good faith as our captain polly's friend. watch out, little mother. watch out. we can't let our little captain visit where even the cows give way to such disgraceful performances." poor peggy was incapable of defending herself for she and polly had laughed until they were weak, and for many a long day after peggy heard of her tipsy cows. when peace once more descended upon the land it was almost time for the visitors to return to annapolis, but before departing they visited the paddock, the stables, and the beautiful old colonial house. and so ended wheedles' birthday, and the next excitement was caused by the army-navy game to which peggy went with mrs. harold's party, enjoying the outing as only a girl whose experiences have been limited, and who is ready for new impressions, can enjoy. and with the passing of the game november passed also and before she knew it christmas was upon her, and christmas hitherto for peggy had meant merely gifts from daddy neil and a merrymaking for the servants. without manifesting undue curiosity mrs. harold had learned a good deal concerning peggy's life and nothing she had learned had touched her so deeply as the loneliness of the holiday season for the young girl. it seemed to her the most unnatural she had ever heard of, and something like resentment filled her heart when she thought of neil stewart's unconscious neglect of his little daughter. she argued that his failing to appreciate that he was neglectful did not excuse the fact, and she resolved that this year peggy should spend the holidays with her and polly at wilmot, and the servants at severndale could look to their own well-being. nevertheless, peggy laid her plans for the pleasure of the severndale help and saw to it that they would have a happy time under harrison's supervision. then peggy betook herself to wilmot for the happiest christmastide she had ever known. the holiday season at the academy is always a merry one, but until very recently, there has been no christmas recess and the midshipmen had to find amusement right in the little old town of annapolis, or within the academy's limits. the frolicking begins with the christmas eve hop given by the midshipmen. mrs. harold had not allowed polly to attend the hops given earlier in the winter, for she was a wise woman and felt that social diversions of that nature were best reserved for later years, when school-days were ended. but she made an exception at the christmas season, when polly in common with other girls, had a holiday, and peggy and polly would go to the hop. unless one has seen a hop given at the academy it is difficult to understand the beauty of the scene, and to peggy it seemed a veritable fairy-land, with its lights, its banners, its lovely girls, uniformed laddies and music "which would make a wooden image dance," she confided to mrs. harold, and added: "and do you know, i used to rebel and be so cranky when miss arnaud came to give me dancing-lessons when i was a little thing. i just hated it, and how she ever made me learn i just don't know. but i had to do as she said, and maybe i'm not glad that i did. why, little mother, suppose i hadn't learned. wouldn't i have been ashamed of myself now?" mrs. harold pulled a love-lock as she answered: "you train your colts, girlie, and they are the better for their training, aren't they?" peggy gave a quick glance of comprehension, and her lips curved in a smile as she said: "but they never behave half as badly as i used to with miss arnaud." and so the christmas eve was danced away. christmas morning was the merriest peggy had ever known. long before daylight she was wakened by polly shaking her and crying: "peggy, wake up! wake up! what do you think? aunt janet has filled stockings and hung them on the foot of the bed. she must have slipped in while we were sound asleep, and oh, i don't wonder we slept after that dance, do you?" rattled on polly, scrambling around to close the window and turn on the steam, for the morning was a snappy one. "whow! ooo!" yawned peggy, to whom late hours were a novelty and who felt as though she had dropped asleep only ten minutes before. "why, polly howland, it's pitch dark, and midnight! i know it is," she protested. "how do you know there are stockings there, anyway?" "i was shivering and when i reached over to get the puff cover my hand touched something bumpy. i've felt of it and i know it's a stocking. i never thought of having one, for i thought all those things were way back in little girl days. but turn on the electric lights quick--they're on your side of the bed--and we'll see what's in them; the stockings, i mean." peggy turned the button and the lights flashed up. "goodness, isn't it freezing cold," she cried. "let's put the puff cover around us," and rolled up in the big down coverlet the girls dove into their bumpy stockings, exclaiming or laughing over the contents, for evidently the boys had been in the secret, for out of peggy's came a little bronze cow and calf labeled "c. and s." "now what in the world does c. and s. stand for, i wonder?" she said. "oh, peggy, those are the initials for 'clean and sober,' the report the officer-of-the-deck makes when the enlisted men come aboard after being on liberty. if they are intoxicated and untidy they check them up d. and d.--which means drunk and dirty. you'll never hear the last of betsy brindle's caper." "well look and see what they've run you about, for you won't escape, i'll wager," laughed peggy as merrily as though it were broad daylight instead of five a.m. polly dove into her stocking to fish out a tiny rocking horse with a doll riding astride it. the horse was to all intents and purposes on a mad gallop, for his rider's hair, dyed a vivid red, was streaming out behind, her collar was flying loose, her feet were out of the stirrups and one shoe was gone. the mad rider bore the legend: "lady gilpin." a dozen other nonsensical things followed, but down in the toe of each was a beautiful 19-class pin for each of the girls, with "co-ed 19--" engraved on them and cards saying "with the compliments of the bunch." by the time the stockings' contents were investigated it was time to dress and go with mrs. harold to see the christmas parade, always given before breakfast in bancroft hall and through the yard. mrs. harold tapped upon the girls' door and was greeted with "merry christmas! merry christmas!" she entered, taking them in her arms and saying: "dozens and dozens for each of you, my little foster-daughters. i am so glad to have you with me, for christmas isn't christmas without young people to enjoy it, and i think i've got some of the very sweetest and best to be had--both daughters and sons. there are no more children like my foster-children. i am one lucky old lady." "old!" cried peggy indignantly, "why you'll never, never seem old to us, for you just think, and see, and feel every single thing as we do." "that's a pretty compliment," replied mrs. harold, sealing her words with a kiss which was returned with earnest warmth, for peggy was learning to love this friend very dearly. the christmas parade was funny enough, for the midshipmen had sent to philadelphia for their costumes and every living thing, from fiji islanders, to priests, bears, lions, ballet girls or convicts raced through the yard to the music of "tommy's band" as they called the ridiculous collection of wind instruments over which one of the midshipmen waved his baton as bandmaster. when this great show ended, all hurried away to dress for breakfast formation, for many were the invitations to breakfast with friends out in town, legal holidays being the only days upon which such privileges were allowed. mrs. harold had a party of five beside polly and peggy and the griddle cakes which vanished that morning rivaled the number of waffles which had disappeared at severndale. when breakfast ended mrs. harold said: "can you young people give me about two hours out of your day? polly and i have laid a little plan for someone's pleasure, which we know will be enhanced if you boys cooperate with us." "count on us, little mother." "we'll do anything we can for you, for you do enough for us." "sure thing," were the hearty replies, while peggy slipped to her side to whisper: "i'd almost be willing to give up my 'co-ed' class pin if you asked me to." "no such sacrifice as that, honey. but let's all go up to middies' haven where i'll tell you all about it." chapter ix dunmore's last christmas when mrs. harold's little breakfast party returned to her sitting-room, she dropped into her favorite chair before the blazing log fire, motioning to the others to gather about her. polly and peggy promptly perched upon the arms of her chair, nestling close; durand squatted, turk-fashion, upon a big cushion at her feet. wheedles leaned with unstudied grace against the mantel-shelf, while happy, ralph, and shortie seated themselves upon the big couch whose capacity seemed to be something like the magic tent of the arabian nights' tale, and capable of indefinite expansion. "what is it, little mother?" asked wheedles, while durand glanced up with his deep, dark eyes, and a slight quiver of the sensitive mouth. "just a little plan i have for dunmore's happiness today" she answered, alluding to a second-classman who had been severely injured upon the football field late in october, and who had been paralyzed ever since. his people lived far away and it was difficult for them to reach him, and the day would have been a sad one but for his chums in the academy and his many friends. among these latter none were more devoted than mrs. harold and polly, for lewis dunmore had been one of the little mother's boys since he first entered the academy and she was nearly heart-broken at the serious outcome of his accident, as no hope was entertained of his recovery. all knew this, and the tenderest sympathy went out to the sick lad who had never for a moment ceased to hope for ultimate recovery and whose patience, courage and cheerfulness under conditions so terrible, filled with admiration the hearts of all who knew him. polly had been untiring in her devotion to him, and "the little fostersister," as he called her, spent many an hour in the hospital, reading, talking, or whistling like a bird, for whistling was polly's sole accomplishment. peggy often went with her, for she loved to make others happy, and many a weary hour was made less weary for him by the two girls, and peggy had sent many a dainty dish from severndale, or the fruit and flowers for which it was noted. she knew polly and mrs. howland had planned something for christmas day, but waited for them to tell her, feeling delicate about asking questions. she had sent over every dainty she could think of and great bunches of mistletoe. mrs. harold smiled upon the young faces she loved so dearly and said "yesterday morning polly and i sent up a lot of christmas greens and a tree for lewis, and later went up to dress it, arranging with the nurses to put it in his room when he was sleeping that it might be the first thing his eyes fell upon when he wakened this morning. he has probably been looking at it many an hour, but we told the nurses we would come up about ten-thirty to give him the presents. we wanted to make it a merry hour for him, and so a lot of nonsensical things were put on for his friends also, among them you boys and some others to whom i have written, and who will meet us there. can you join us?" "can we! well why not? sure! poor old chap!" were some of the hearty responses. "i knew i could count upon you, so let us start at once. go get ready, girls." the girls flew to their room and a moment later came back coated and furred, for the walk up to the hospital on the hill was a bleak one. the boys were inured to all sorts of weather, and their heavy overcoats were a safe protection against it. it was a merry, frolicking party which set forth, and as they crossed the athletic field a lively snowballing took place, for a light snow had fallen the day before, turning the yard into a beautiful white world. mrs. harold was not to be outdone by any of her young people, but catching up handfuls of snow in her woolen-gloved hands tossed snowballs with the best of them. the contrast from the joy, the vigorous health of the group entering dunmore's room to the still, helpless figure lying upon the cot was pathetic. the invalid could not move his head, but his great brown eyes, and fine mouth smiled his welcome to his friends, and he said: "oh, it was great! great! i saw it the first thing when i woke up. and the holly and mistletoe up here over my bed. i don't see how they got it hung there without my knowing when they did it." "that was our secret," cried polly. "and peggy sent over the mistletoe from severndale, though she didn't know we were to have the tree." "peggy, you are all right," was dunmore's hearty praise. "but that tree is the prettiest thing ever. i'm as crazy as a kid about it. i sort of dreaded christmas, but you people have fixed it up all right and i'm no end grateful. it's a great day after all." peggy who was standing where dunmore could not see her glanced at polly. polly nodded in quick understanding. "the day all right," and the poor lad helpless as some lifeless thing. the girls' eyes filled with quick tears which they hastened to wink away, for not for worlds would they have saddened what both knew to be the last christmas lewis could pass in this world, and polly cried: "now, tanta, let us have the presents!" for an hour the room was the scene of a happy merrymaking, as shortie, because he was "built on lines to reach the top-gallants," they said, distributed the gifts, funny or dainty, and lewis' bed looked like a stand in a bazaar. mrs. harold had given him a downy bathrobe; peggy had made him a hop pillow; polly had made up a nonsense jingle for each day for a month, sealing each in an envelope and labelling it with dire penalties if read before the date named. but best of all, the class had sent him his class-ring and when it was slipped upon his finger by his roommate, the poor lad broke down completely. mrs. harold hastened to the bedside and the others did their best to relieve the situation. the class-ring is never worn by a second-classman until the last exam is passed by the first class. then the new class-rings blossom forth in all their glory, for this ring is peculiarly significant: it is looked forward to as one of the greatest events in the class' history, and is a badge of union forever. realizing that dunmore could not be with them when the time came for them to put on their own, his classmates had unanimously voted to give him his as a christmas gift, and nothing they could have done could possibly have meant so much to him. he was prouder than he had ever been before in his life, but--with the gift came the faint premonition of the inevitable; the first doubt of future recovery; the first hint that perhaps he had been harboring false hopes, and it almost overwhelmed him, and mrs. harold read it all in a flash. but peggy saved the day. slipping to his side she said: "aren't you proud to be the very first to wear it? they wanted to give you a christmas present, but couldn't think of a single thing you'd enjoy while you were so ill. then they thought of the ring. of course you could enjoy that, and there was no reason in the world that you shouldn't either, and the other boys will be happy seeing you wear it and count the days before they can put theirs on. and it is such a beauty, isn't it? we are all so glad you've got it. you can just wiggle your finger and crow over the others every time they come to visit you." lewis looked up at her and smiled. he understood better than she guessed why she had talked so fast, and was grateful, but the pang was beneath the smile nevertheless. then dinner-hour drawing near the white-capped nurse came in as a gentle hint that her patient had had about all the excitement he could stand, and mrs. harold suggested their departure. their last glance showed them lewis dunmore looking at his class-ring, for he could move that arm just enough to enable him to raise the hand within his range of vision. the week following was a happy one for all. each afternoon an informal dance was given in the gymnasium and the girls pranced to their hearts' content. as the week drew to an end the weather grew colder and colder until with saturday came a temperature which froze college creek solid. this was most unusual for the season, but was hailed with wild rejoicings by the boys and girls, for skating is a rare novelty in annapolis. saturday dawned an ideal winter day, clear, cold, and white. "can you skate, peggy?" asked polly, diving into her closet for a pair of skates which she had brought south with her, though with small hope of using them. "y--e--s," answered peggy, doubtfully. "i can skate--after a fashion, but i'm afraid my skating will not show to very great advantage beside yours, you northern lassie." "nonsense. i'll wager one of aunt cynthia's cookies that you can skate as well as i can, though you never would admit it." there had not been much chance for stirring exercise for the girls since the snow fell and really cold weather set in, for there was not much pleasure in riding under such conditions, and they had both missed the healthy outdoor sport. but the prospect of skating set them both atingle to get upon the ice and they were eagerly awaiting the official order from the academy, for no one is allowed upon the ice until it is pronounced entirely safe by the authorities, and the commandant gives permission. of course, this does not apply to the townspeople or to that section of the creek beyond the limits of the academy, but it is very rigidly enforced within it. as the girls were eager to learn whether the brigade would have permission that afternoon, they went over to hear the orders read at luncheon formation, and came back nearly wild with delight to inform mrs. harold that not only was permission granted but that the band would play at the edge of the creek from four until six o'clock. "and if that won't be ideal i'd like to know what can be," cried polly, and scarcely had she spoken when the telephone rang. "hello. yes, it's polly. of course we can. what time! to the very minute. yes, peggy's right here beside me and fairly dancing up and down to know what we are talking about. no, don't come out for us; we will meet you at the gate at three-thirty sharp. good-bye," and snapping the receiver into its socket, polly whirled about to catch peggy in a regular bear hug and cry: "it was happy. he and the others want us all to come over at threethirty. aunt janet, too. they have an ice-chair for her; they borrowed it from someone. oh, won't it be fun!" peggy's dark eyes sparkled, then she said: "but my skates. they are 'way out at severndale." without a word mrs. harold walked to the telephone and a moment later was talking with harrison. the skates would be sent in by the two o'clock car. promptly at three-thirty the girls and mrs. harold entered the maryland avenue gate where they were met by shortie, wheedles, happy, durand and ralph; durand promptly appropriating peggy, while ralph, cried: "come on, polly, this is going to be like old times up at montgentian." it would have been hard to picture a prettier sight than the skaters presented that afternoon, the boys in their heavy reefers and woolen watch-caps; the girls in toboggan caps and sweaters. over in the west the sky was a rich rosy glow, for the sun sinks behind the hills by four-thirty during the short winter afternoons. the naval academy band stationed at the edge of the broad expanse of the ice-bound creek was sending its inspiring strains out across the keen, frosty air which seemed to hold and toy with each note as though reluctant to let it die away. the boys took turns in pushing mrs. harold's chair, spinning it along over the smooth surface of the ice in the wake of peggy, polly and the others, who now and again joined hands to "snap-the-whip," "run-thetrain," or go through some pretty figure. polly and ralph were clever at this and very soon peggy caught the trick. the creek was crowded, for nearly half the town as well as the people from the yard were enjoying the rare treat. the band had just finished a beautiful waltz to which all had swung across the creek in perfect rhythm, when one of the several enlisted men, stationed along the margin of the creek, and equipped with stout ropes and heavy planks in the event of accident, sounded "attention" on a bugle. instantly, every midshipman, officer, or those in any way connected with the academy, halted and stood at attention to hear the order. "no one will be allowed to go below the bridge. ice is not safe," rang out the order. nearly every one heard and to hear was, of course, to obey for all in the academy, but there are always heedless ones, or stupid ones in this world, and in the numbers gathered upon the ice that afternoon there were plenty of that sort, and it sometimes seems as though they were sent into this world to get sensible people into difficulties. of course the heedless ones were too busy with their own concerns to pay heed to the warning. a group of young girls from the town were skating together close to the lower bridge. durand and peggy were near the marine barracks shore, when they became aware of their reckless venturing upon the dangerous ice. "durand, look," cried peggy. "those girls must be crazy to go out there after hearing that order." "they probably never heard it at all. some of those cits make me tired. they seem to have so little sense. now i'll bet my sweater that every last person connected with the yard heard it, but, i'd bet two sweaters that not half the people from the town did, yet there was no reason they shouldn't. it was read for their benefit just exactly as much as ours, but they act as though we belonged to some other world and the orders were for our benefit, but their undoing." "not quite so bad as all that, i hope," laughed peggy, as they joined hands and swung away. a moment later she gave a sharp cry. durand had turned and was skating backward with peggy "in tow." he spun around just in time to see a little girl about ten years of age throw up her hands and crash through the rotten ice. peggy had seen her as she laughingly broke away from the group of older girls to dart beneath the bridge. "quick! beat it for help," shouted durand, flinging off his reefer and striking out for the screaming girls. he had not made ten strides when a second girl in rushing to her friend's assistance, went through too, the others darting back to safer ice and shrieking for help. durand now had a proposition on hand in short order, but peggy's wits worked rapidly: if she left durand to go for help he would have his hands more than full. moreover, the alarm had already been sounded and the jackies were coming on a run. so she did exactly as durand was doing: laid flat upon the ice and worked her way toward the second struggling victim. durand had caught the child and was doing his best to keep her afloat and himself from being dragged into the freezing water, but peggy's victim was older and heavier. "oh, save me! save me!" she screamed. "hush. keep still and we'll get you out," commanded peggy, doing her utmost to keep free of the wildly thrashing arms, while holding on to the girl's coat with all the strength of desperation. it would have gone ill with the girl and peggy, however, had not help come from the bridge where the jackies had acted as such men invariably do: promptly and without fuss. in far less time than seemed possible, two of them, with ropes firmly bound about their bodies, were in the water, while two more pulled them and their struggling charges to safety, and two more in the perfect order of their discipline drew peggy and durand from their perilous situation, and just then mrs. harold's party came rushing up, she and polly white with terror. "peggy, peggy, my little girl! if anything had happened to you," cried mrs. harold, gathering her into her arms. "but there hasn't. not a single thing, little mother. i'm not hurt a bit, and only a little wet and that won't hurt me because my clothes are so thick." but the girl's voice shook and she trembled in spite of her words, for the last few minutes had taxed both strength and courage. meantime the boys had gathered about durand, but boy-like made light of the episode though down in their hearts they knew it had required pluck and steady nerve to do as he had done, and their admiration found expression in hauling off their reefers to force them upon him, or in giving him a clip upon the back and telling him he was "all right," and to "come on back to bancroft for a rub-down after his bath." but no one underrated the courage of either and they were hurried home to be cared for, though it was many hours before mrs. harold could throw off the horror of what might have happened, and peggy was a heroine for many a day to her intense annoyance. chapter x a domestic episode in spite of the scare all had received the previous saturday, the new year's eve hop was thoroughly enjoyed, for neither durand nor peggy was the worse for the experience, and the old year was danced out upon light, happy toes, only one shadow resting upon the joyous evening. for over a year, there had been an officer stationed at the academy who had been a source of discord among his fellow-officers, and a martinet with the midshipmen. he was small, petty, unjust, and not above resorting to methods despised by his confreres. he was loathed by the midshipmen because they could never count upon what they termed "a square deal," and consequently never knew just where they stood. there were several who seemed to have incurred his especial animosity, and durand in particular he hated: hated because the boy's quick wits invariably got him out of the scrapes which his mischievous spirit prompted, and "gumshoes," as the boys had dubbed the officer, owing to his habit of sneaking about "looking for trouble," was not clever enough to catch him. and thus it came about that, being once more circumvented by durand on new year's eve in a trivial matter at which any other officer would have laughed, he resorted to ways and means which a man with a finer sense of honor would have despised and--again he failed. but his chance came on new year's day, when durand, led into one of the worst scrapes of his life by blue, fell into his clutches and the outcome was so serious that the entire brigade was restricted to the yard's limits for three months, and gloom descended not only upon the academy but upon all its friends. naturally, with her boys debarred from middies' haven, mrs. harold could do little for the girls, and their only sources of pleasure lay in such amusements as the town afforded and these were extremely limited. so much time was spent at severndale with peggy, and it was during one of these visits that mrs. harold figured in one of the domestic episodes of severndale. they were not new to peggy for she was southern-born and used to the vagaries and childlike outbreaks of the colored people. but even though mrs. harold had lived among them a great deal, and thought she understood them pretty thoroughly, she had yet to learn some of the african's eccentricities. january dragged on, the girls working with captain pennell and dr. llewellyn. during the month, one of the hands, joshua jozadak jubal jones, by the way, fell ill with typhoid fever, and was removed to the hospital. from the first his chances of recovery seemed doubtful, and "minervy" his wife, as strapping, robust a specimen of her race as poor joshua was tiny and, as she expressed it, "pore and pindlin'," was in a most emotional frame of mind. again and again she came up to the great house to "crave consolatiom" from miss peggy, or mammy lucy, though, truth to tell, mammy's sympathies were not very deeply enlisted. minervy jones did not move in the same social set in which mammy held a dignified position: mammy was "an emerged baptis'"; minervy a "shoutin' mefodist," and a strong feeling existed between the two little colored churches. peggy visited the hospital daily and saw that joshua lacked for nothing. mrs. harold was deeply concerned for peggy's sake, for peggy looked to the well-being of all the help upon the estate with the deep interest which generations of her ancestors had manifested, indeed regarded as incumbent upon them and part of their obligation to their dependents. days passed and poor joshua grew no better, minervy meanwhile spending most of her time in aunt cynthia's kitchen where she could sustain the inner woman with many a tidbit from the white folks' table, and speculate upon what was likely to become of them if her "pore lil chillern were left widderless orphans." it need hardly be added that the prospective "widderless orphans" were left to shift largely for themselves while she was accepting both mental and physical sustenance. it was upon one of these visits, so indefinitely prolonged that mammy's patience was at the snapping point, that she decided to give a needed hint. entering the kitchen she said to aunt cynthia: "'pears ter me yo' must have powerful lot o' time on han', sis' cynthy." "well'm i ain't. no ma'am, not me," was cynthia's prompt reply, for to tell the truth she was beginning to weary of doling out religious consolation and bodily sustenance, yet hospitality demanded something. "well, i reckons miss peggy's cravin' fer her luncheon, an' it's high time she done got it, too. is yo' know de time?" "cou'se i knows de time," brindled cynthia, "but 'pears lak time don' count wid some folks. kin yo' see de clock, mis' jones?" the question was sprung so suddenly that minerva jumped. "yas'm, yas'm, mis' johnson, i kin see hit; yis, i kin," answered minervy, craning her neck for a pretended better view. "well, den, please, ma'am, tell me just 'zactly what it is." this was a poser. minervy knew no more of telling time than one of her own children, but rising from her chair, she said: "i 'clar ter goodness, i'se done shed so many tears in ma sorrer and grief over joshua dat i sho' is a-loosin' ma eyesight." she then went close to the clock, looked long and carefully at it, but shook her head doubtfully. at length a bright idea struck her and turning to cynthia she announced: "why, sis' cynthia, i believes yo' tryin' ter projec' wid me; dat clock don' strike 'tall. but i 'clar i mus' be a-humpin' masef todes dera chillern. i shore mus'." "yes, i'd 'vise it pintedly," asserted cynthia, while mammy lucy added: "it's sprisin' how some folks juties slips dey min's." three days later word came to severndale that joshua could hardly survive the day and peggy, as she felt duty bound, went over to minervy's cabin. she found her sitting before her fire absolutely idle. "minervy," she began, "i have had word from the hospital and joshua is not so well. i think you would better go right over." "yas'm, yas'm, miss peggy, i spec's yo' sees it dat-a-way, honey, but-but yo' sees de chillern dey are gwine car'y on scan'lus if i leaves 'em. my juty sho' do lie right hyer, yas'm it sho' do." "but minervy, joshua cannot live." "yas'm, but he ain' in his min' an' wouldn't know me no how, but dese hyer chillerns is all got dey min's cl'ar, an' dey stummicks empty. no'm, i knows yo' means it kindly an' so i teks hit, but i knows ma juty," and nothing peggy could say had any effect. that night joshua died. the word came to severndale early the following morning. "well," said mrs. harold, "from her philosophical resignation to the situation yesterday, i don't imagine she will be greatly overcome by the news." "mh--um," was mammy's non-committal lip-murmur, and peggy wagged her head. mrs. harold and polly were spending the week at severndale, and were dressing for breakfast. their rooms communicated with peggy's and they had been laughing and talking together when the 'phone message came. "mammy," called peggy. "please send word right down to minervy." "yas, baby, i sends it, and den yo' watch out," warned mammy. "what for?" asked peggy. "fo' dat 'oman. she gwine mak one fuss dis time ef she never do again." "nonsense, mammy, i don't believe she cares one straw anyway. she is the most unfeeling creature i've ever seen." "she may be onfeelin' but she ain' on-doin', yo' mark me," and mammy went off to do as she was bidden. perhaps twenty minutes had passed when the quiet of the lower floor was torn by wild shrieks and on-rushing footsteps, with voices vainly commanding silence and decorum: commands all unheeded. then came a final rush up the stairs and minervy distraught and dishevelled burst into mrs. harold's room, and without pausing to see whom she was falling upon, flung her arms about that startled woman, shrieking: "he's daid! he's daid! dem pore chillern is all widderless orphans. i felt it a-comin'! who' gwine feed an' clothe and shelter dose pore lambs? ma heart's done bruck! done bruck!" "minervy! minervy! do you know what you are doing! let go of mrs. harold this instant," ordered peggy, nearly overcome with mortification that her guest should meet with such an experience at severndale. "do you hear me? control yourself at once." she strove to drag the hysterical creature from mrs. harold, but she might as well have tried to drag away a wild animal. minervy continued to shriek and howl, while mammy, scandalized beyond expression, scolded and stormed, and jerome called from the hall below. then mrs. harold's sense of humor came to her rescue and she had an inspiration, for she promptly decided that there was no element of grief in minervy's emotions. "minerva, minerva, have you ordered your mourning? you knew joshua could not live," she cried. had she felled the woman with a blow the effect could not have been more startling. instantly the shrieks ceased and releasing her hold minervy struck an attitude: "no'm, i hasn't! i cyant think how i could a-been so careless-like, an' knowin' all de endurin' time dat i boun' fer ter be a widder. how could i a-been so light-minded?" "well, you have certainly got to have some black clothes right off. it would be dreadful not to have proper mourning for joshua." meanwhile peggy and polly had fled into the next room. "i sho' mus', ma'am. how could i a-been so 'crastinatin' an' po' joshua a-dyin' all dese hyer weeks. i am' been 'spectful to his chillern; dat i ain't. lemme go right-way an' tink what i's needin'. but please ma'am, is yo' a widder 'oman? case ef yo' is yo's had spurrience an' kin tell me bes' what i needs." it was with difficulty that mrs. harold controlled her risibles, so utterly absurd rather than pathetic was the whole situation, for not one atom of real grief for joshua lay in poor, shallow minervy's heart. then mrs. harold replied: "no, minervy. i am not a widow; at least i am only a grass widow, and they do not wear mourning, you know." "no'm, no'm, i spec's not. but what mus' i git for masef an' does po' orphans!" "well, you have a black skirt, but have you a waist and hat? and you would better buy a black veil; not crape, it is too perishable; get nun's veiling, and--" "nun's veilin'? nun's veilin'?" hesitated minervy. "but i ain' no nun, mistiss, i'se a widder. i ain' got no kind er use fer dem nunses wha' don' never mahry. i'se been a mahryin' 'oman, _i_ is." "well you must choose your own veil then," mrs. harold managed to reply. "yas'm, i guesses i better, an' i reckons i better git me a belt an' some shoes, 'case if i gotter be oneasy in ma min' dars no sort o' reason fer ma bein' uneasy in ma foots too, ner dem chillern neither. dey ain' never is had shoes all 'roun' ter onct, but i reckons dey better he fitted out right fer dey daddy's funeral. dey can't tend it hut onct in all dey life-times no how. and 'sides, i done had his life assured 'gainst dis occasiom, an' i belongs ter de sassiety wha' burys folks in style wid regalions. dey all wears purple velvet scaffses ober dey shoulders an' ma'ches side de hearse. dar ain' nothin' cheap an' no 'count bout dat sassiety. no ma'am! an' i reckons i better git right long and look arter it all," and minervy, still wiping her eyes, hurried from the room, mammy's snort of outrage unheeded, and her words: "now what i done tole yo', baby? i tells yo' dat 'oman ain' mo'n ha'f human if she is one ob ma own color. _i_'s a cullured person, but she's jist pure nigger, yo' hyar me?" and mammy flounced from the room. polly and peggy reentered mrs. harold's room. she had collapsed upon the divan, almost hysterical, and polly looked as though someone had dashed cold water in her face. peggy was the only one who accepted the situation philosophically. with a resigned expression she said: "that's minervy jones. she is one type of her race. mammy is another. now we'll see what she'll buy. i'll venture to say that every penny she gets from joshua's life-insurance will be spent upon clothes for herself and those children." "and _i_ started the idea," deplored mrs. harold. "oh, no, you did not. she would have thought of it as soon as she was over her screaming, only you stopped the screaming a little sooner, for which we ought to be grateful to you. she is only one of many more exactly like her." "do you mean to tell me that there are many as heedless and foolish as she is?" demanded mrs. harold. "dozens. ask harrison about some of them." "well, i never saw anything like her," cried polly, indignantly. "i think she is perfectly heartless." "oh, no, she isn't. she simply can't hold more than one idea at a time. just now it's the display she can make with her insurance money. they insure each other and everything insurable, and go half naked in order to do so. the system is perfectly dreadful, but no one can stop them. probably every man and woman on the place knows exactly what she will receive and half a dozen will come forward with money to lend her, sure of being paid back by this insurance company. it all makes me positively sick, but there is no use trying to control them in that direction. i don't wonder daddy neil often says they were better off in the old days when a master looked after their well-being." an hour later minervy was driving into annapolis, three of her boon companions going with her, the "widderless orphans" being left to get on as best they could. she spent the entire morning in town, returning about three o'clock with a wagonful of purchases. poor joshua's remains were being looked after by the society and would later come to severndale. mrs. harold and the girls were sitting in the charming living-room when jerome came to ask if miss peggy would speak with minervy a moment. "oh, do bring her in here," begged mrs. harold. peggy looked doubtful, but consented, and jerome went to fetch the widow. when she entered the room mrs. harold and the girls were sorely put to it to keep sober faces, for minervy had certainly outdone herself; not only minervy, but her entire brood which followed silently and sheepishly behind her. can minervy's "mourning" be described? upon her head rested a huge felt hat of the "merry widow" order, and encircling it was a veil of some sort of stiff material, more like crinoline than crape. there were yards of it, and so stiff that it stuck straight out behind her like a horse's tail. under the brim was a white widow's ruche. her waist was a black silk one adorned with cheap embroidery, and a broad belt displayed a silver buckle at least four inches in diameter, ornamented with a huge glass carbuncle at least half the buckle's size. on her own huge feet were a pair of shining patent-leather shoes sporting big gilt buckles, and each child wore patent-leather dancing pomps. "why, minervy," cried peggy, really distressed, "how could you?" "why'm, ain' we jist right? i thought i done got bargains wha' jist nachally mak' dat odder widow 'oman tek a back seat an' sit down. she didn't git no sich style when james up an died," answered minervy, reproach in her tone and eyes. "but, minervy," interposed mrs. harold. "that bright red stone in the buckle; how can you consider that mourning? and your veil shouldn't stick--i mean it ought to hang down properly." minervy looked deeply perturbed. shifting from one patent-leather-shod foot to the other, she answered: "well'm, well'm, i dare say you's had more spurrience in dese hyer t'ings 'n i is, but dat ston certain'y did strike ma heart. but ef yo' say 'taint right why, pleas ma'am git a pair o' scissors an' prize it out, tho' i done brought de belt fer de sake ob dat buckle. well, nemmine. i reckons i kin keep it, an' if i ever marhrys agin it sho will come in handy." the combined efforts of mrs. harold, peggy and polly eventually got minervy passably presentable as to raiment, but there they gave up the obligation. on the following sunday the funeral was held with all the ceremony and display dear to the african heart, but "sis cynthia, mammy lucy and jerome were too occupied with domestic duties to attend." "i holds masef clar 'bove sich goin's-on," was mammy's dictum. "when _i_ dies, i 'spects ter be bur'rid quiet an' dignumfied by ma mistiss, an' no sich crazy goin's on as dem yonder." later minervy and her "nine haid ob chillern" betook themselves into the town of annapolis where matrimonial opportunities were greater, and, sure enough, before two months were gone by she presented herself to peggy, smiling and coy, to ask: "please, ma'am, is yo' got any ol' white stuff wha' i could use fer a bridal veil?" "a bridal veil?" repeated peggy, horrified at this new development. "yas'm, dat's what i askin' fer. yo' see, miss peggy, dat haid waiter man at de central hotel, he done fall in love wid ma nine haid o' po' orphanless chillern an' crave fer ter be a daddy to 'em. an' miss peggy, honey, johanna she gwine be ma bride's maid, an' does yo' reckon yo's got any ole finery what yo' kin giv' her? she's jist 'bout yo' size, ma'am." johanna was minervy's eldest daughter. "yes. i'll get exactly what you want," cried peggy, her lips set and her eyes snapping, for her patience was exhausted. going to her storeroom peggy brought to light about three yards of white cotton net and a pistachio green mull gown, long since discarded. it was made with short white lace sleeves and low cut neck. "here you are," she said, handing them to minervy who was thrown into a state of ecstacy. "but wait a moment; it lacks completeness," and she ran to her room for a huge pink satin bow. "there, tell johanna to pin that on her head and the harlequin ice will be complete." but her sarcasm missed its mark. then peggy went to her greenhouses and gathering a bunch of killarney roses walked out to the little burial lot where the severndale help slept and laying them upon joshua's grave said softly: "you were good and true and faithful, and followed your light." [footnote: note--the author would like to state that this episode actually did take place upon the estate of a friend.] chapter xi playing good samaritan february had passed and march was again rushing upon severndale. a cold, wild march, too. perhaps because it was coming in like a lion it would go out like a lamb. it is nearly a year since we first saw peggy stewart seated in the crotch of the snake-fence talking with shashai and tzaritza, and in that year her whole outlook upon life has changed. true it was then later in the month and spring filled the air, but a few weeks make vast changes in a maryland springtide. and daddy neil was coming home soon! coming in time for an alumni meeting during june week at the academy, and mr. harold was coming also. these facts threw every one at severndale, as well as mrs. harold and polly into a flutter of anticipation. but several weeks--yes, three whole months in fact--must elapse before they would arrive, for the ships were only just leaving guantanamo for hampton roads and then would follow target practice off the virginia capes. mrs. harold and polly were going to run down to hampton roads for a week, to meet mr. harold, but commander stewart's cruiser would not be there. he was ordered to nicaragua where one of the periodical insurrections was taking place and uncle sam's sailor boys' presence would probably prove salutary. at any rate, neil stewart could not be at hampton roads, and consequently peggy decided not to go down with her friends, though urged to join them. meanwhile she worked away with compadre and as march slipped by acquired for severndale a most valuable addition to its paddock. it all came about in a very simple manner, as such things usually do. all through maryland are many small farms, some prosperous, some so slack and forlorn that one wonders how the owners subsist at all. it often depends upon the energy and industry of the individual. these farmers drive into annapolis with their produce, and when one sees the animals driven, and vehicles to which they are harnessed, one often wonders how the poor beasts have had strength to make the journey even if the vehicle has managed to hold together. often there is a lively "swapping" of horses at the market-place and a horse may change owners three or four times in the course of a morning. it so happened that peggy had driven into annapolis upon one of these market days, and having driven down to the dock to make inquiry for some delayed freight, was on her way back when she noticed a pair of fleabitten gray horses harnessed to a ramshackle farm wagon. the wagon wheels were inches thick with dry mud, for the wagon had probably never been washed since it had become its present owner's property. the harness was tied in a dozen places with bits of twine, and the horses were so thin and apparently half-starved that peggy's heart ached to see them. pulling up her own span she said to jess: "oh, jess, how can any one treat them so? they seem almost too weak to stand, but they have splendid points. those horses have seen better days or i'm much mistaken and they come of good stock too." "dey sho' does, missie," answered jess, pleased as punch to see his young mistress' quick eye for fine horseflesh, though it must be admitted that the fine qualities of these horses were well disguised, and only a connoisseur could have detected them. as they stood looking at the horses the owner came up accompanied by another man. they were in earnest conversation, the owner evidently protesting and his companion expostulating. something impelled peggy to tarry, and without seeming to do so, to listen. she soon grasped the situation: the horses' owner owed the other man some money which he was unable to pay. the argument grew heated. peggy was unheeded. the upshot was the transfer of ownership of one of the span of horses to the other man, the new owner helping unharness the one chosen, its mate looking on with surprised, questioning eyes, as though asking why he, too, was not being unharnessed. the new owner did not seem over-pleased with his bargain either (he lacked peggy's discernment) and vented his ill-temper upon the poor horse. presently he led him away, the mate whinnying and calling after his companion in a manner truly pathetic. "quick, jess," ordered peggy, "go and find out who that man is and where he is taking that horse, but don't let him suspect why." jess scrambled out of the surrey, saying: "yo' count on me, miss peggy. i's wise, i is; i ketches on all right." peggy continued to watch. the man sat down upon an upturned box near his wagon, buried his face in his hands and seemed oblivious of all taking place around him. presently the horse turned toward him and nickered questioningly. the man looked up and reaching out a work-hardened hand, stroked the poor beast's nose, saying: "'taint no use, pepper; he's done gone fer good. everythin's gone, and i wisht ter gawd i was done gone too, fer 'taint no use. the fight's too hard for us." just then he caught the eye of the young girl watching him. there was something in her expression which seemed to spell hope: he felt utterly hopeless. she smiled and beckoned to him. she was so used to being obeyed that his response was as a matter of course to her. he moved slowly toward the surrey, resting his hand upon the wheel and looking up at her with listless eyes. "you want me, miss?" he asked. peggy said gently: "i couldn't help seeing what happened; i was right here. please don't think me inquisitive, but would you mind telling me something about your horses? i love them so, and--and--and--i think yours have good blood." the furrowed, weatherbeaten face seemed transformed as he answered: "some of the best in the land, miss. some of the best. how did ye guess it?" "i did not guess it; i knew it. i raise horses." "then you're miss stewart from severndale, ain't ye?" "yes, and you?" "i'm jist jim bolivar. i live 'bout five mile this side of severndale. lived there nigh on ter twenty year, but yo' wouldn't never know me, o' course, though i sometimes drives over to yo' place." "but how do you expect to drive back all that distance with only one horse? did you sell the other, or only lend him?" for a moment the man hesitated. then looking into the clear, tender eyes he said: "he had ter go, miss. everything's gone ag'in me for over a year; i owed steinberger fifty dollars; i couldn't pay him; i'd given salt fer s'curity." "salt?" repeated peggy in perplexity. "yes'm, pepper's mate. i named 'em pepper 'n salt when they was young colts," and a faint smile curved the speaker's lips. peggy nodded and said: "oh, i see. that was clever. they do look like pepper and salt." "did," corrected the man. "there ain't but one now. but salt were worth more 'n fifty dollars; yes, he were." "he certainly was," acquiesced peggy. "do you want to sell pepper too?" "i'd sell my heart, miss, if i could get things fer nell." "who is nell?" "my girl, miss. nigh 'bout yo' age, i reckons, but not big an' healthy an' spry like yo'. she's ailin' most o' the time, but we's mighty po,' miss, mighty po'. we ain't allers been, but things have gone agin us pretty steady. last year the hail spoilt the crops, an' oh well, yo' don't want ter hear 'bout my troubles." "i want to hear about any one's troubles if i can help them. how shall you get back to your place?" "reckon i'll have ter onhitch an' ride pepper back, on'y i jist natchelly hate ter see nell's face when i get thar 'thout salt. she set sich store by them horses, an' they'd foiler her anywheres. i sort ter hate ter start, miss." "listen to me," said peggy. "what does nell most need?" "huh! most need? most need? well if i started in fer ter tell what she most needs i reckon you'd be scart nigh ter death. she needs everythin' an' seems like i can't git nothin'." "well what did you hope to get for her?" asked peggy, making a random shot. "why she needs some shoes pretty bad, an' the doctor said she ought ter have nourishin' things ter eat, but, somehow, we can't seem ter git many extras." "will you go into the market and get what you'd like from mr. bodwell? here, give him this and tell him miss stewart sent you," and hastily taking a card from her case, peggy wrote upon it: "please give bearer what is needed," and signed her name. "get a good thick steak and anything else nell would like." the man hesitated. "but i ain't askin' charity, miss." "this is for nell, and maybe i'll buy pepper--if she will sell him," flashed peggy, with a radiant smile. "i'll do as yo' tell me, miss. mebbe it's providence. nell always says: 'the good lord'll tell us how, dad,' an' mebbe she's right, mebbe she is," and worn, weary, discouraged jim bolivar went toward the market. during his absence jess returned. "dat man's a no' 'count dead beat, miss peggy. yas'm, he is fer a fac', an' he gwine treat dat hawse scan'lous." peggy's eyes grew dark. "we'll see," was all she said, but jess chuckled. most of the help at severndale knew that look. "jess, unharness that horse and tie him behind the surrey," was her next astonishing order. "fo' de lawd's sake, miss peggy, what yo' bown' fer ter do? yo' gwine start hawsestealin'?" jess didn't know whether to laugh or take it seriously. when jim bolivar returned pepper was trying to reason out the wherefor of being hitched behind such a handsome vehicle as peggy's surrey, and jess was protesting: "but--but--butter," stammered jess, "miss peggy, yo' am' never in de roun' worl' gwine ter drive from de town an' clar out ter severndale wid dat disrep'u'ble ol' hawse towin' 'long behime we all?" "i certainly am, and what is more, jim bolivar is going to sit on the back seat and hold the leader. he has got to get home and he can't without help. mr. bolivar, please do as i say," peggy's voice held a merry note but her little nod of authority meant "business." "but look at me, miss," protested bolivar. "i ain't fit ter ride with yo', no how." "i am not afraid of criticism," replied peggy, with the little uptilting of the head which told of her stewart ancestry. "when i know a thing is right i do it. steady, comet. quiet, meteor," for the horses had been standing some time and seemed inclined to proceed upon two legs instead of four. "we'll stop at brooks' for the shoes, then we'll go around to dove's; i've a little commission for him." "yas'm, yas'm," nodded jess. the shoes were bought, peggy selecting them and giving them to bolivar with the words: "it will soon be easter and this is my easter gift to nellie, with my love," she added with a smile which made the shoes a hundred-fold more valuable. then off to the livery stable. "mr. dove, do you know a man named steinberger?" "i know an old skinflint by that name," corrected dove. "well, you are to buy a horse from him. seventy-five dollars ought to be the price, but a hundred is available if necessary. but do your best. the horse's name is salt--yes--that is right," as dove looked incredulous, "and he is a flea-bitten gray--mate to this one behind us. steinberger bought him today, and i want you to beat him at his own game if you can, for he has certainly beaten a better man." "you count on me, miss stewart, you count on me. whatever you say goes with me." "thank you, i'll wait and see what happens." their homeward progress was slower than usual, for poor half-starved pepper could not keep pace with comet and meteor. about four miles from annapolis bolivar directed them into a by-road which led to an isolated farm, as poor, forlorn a specimen as one could find. but in spite of its disrepair there was something of home in its atmosphere and the dooryard was carefully brushed. turkey red curtains at the lower windows gave an air of cheeriness to the lonely place. as they drew near a hound came bounding out to greet them with a deep-throated bark, and a moment later a girl about peggy's age appeared at the door. peggy thought she had never seen a sweeter or a sadder face. she was fair to transparency with great questioning blue eyes, masses of golden hair waving softly back from her face and gathered into a thick braid. she walked with a slight limp, and looked in surprise at the strange visitors, and her big blue eyes were full of a vague doubt. "it's all right, honey. it's all right," called bolivar. "'aint nothin' but providence a-workin' out, i reckon, jist like yo' say. "we have brought your father and pepper home. salt is all right, nelly. you will see him again pretty soon." "oh, has anything happened to salt, dad?" asked the girl quickly. "well, not anything, so-to-speak. jist let miss stewart, here, run it and it'll come out all right. i'm bankin' on that, judgin' from the way she's done so far. she's got a head a mile long, honey, she has, an' has mine beat ter a frazzle. mine's kind o' wore out i reckon, an' no 'count, no more. come long out an' say howdy." nelly bolivar came to the surrey and smiling up into peggy's face, said: "of course i know who you are, everybody does, but i never expected to really, truly know you, and i'm a right proud girl to shake hands with you," and a thin hand, showing marks of toil, was held to peggy. there was a sweet dignity in the act and words. peggy took it in her gloved one, saying: "i didn't suspect i was so well known. for a quiet girl i'm beginning to know a lot of people. but i must go now, it is getting very late. your father is going to bring pepper over to see me soon and maybe he will bring you, too. he has such a lot to tell you that i'll not delay it a bit longer. good-bye, and remember a lot of pleasant things are going to happen," and with the smile which won all who knew her, peggy drove away. if people's right ears burn when others are speaking kindly of them, peggy's should have burned hard that evening, for nelly bolivar listened eagerly as her father told of the afternoon's experiences and peggy's part in them. two days later salt was delivered at severndale. dove had been as good as his word. shelby gave him one glance and said: "well, if some men knew a hoss as quick as that thar girl does, there'd be fewer no 'count beasts in the world. put him in a stall and tell jim jarvis i want him to take care of him as if he was the emperor. i know what i'm sayin', an' miss peggy knows what she's a-doin', an' that's more 'n i kin say for most women-folks." so salt found himself in the lap of luxury and one week of it so transformed him that at the end of it poor pepper would hardly have known his mate. yet with all the care bestowed upon him the poor horse grieved for his mate, and never did hoof-beat fall upon the ground without his questioning neigh. peggy visited him every day and was touched by his response to her petting; it showed what nelly had done for him. but she was quick to understand the poor creature's nervous watching for his lost mate, and evident loneliness. at length she had him turned into the paddock with the other horses, but even this failed to console him. he stood at the paling looking down the road, again and again neighing his call for the companion which failed to answer. peggy began to wonder what had become of jim bolivar. two more weeks passed. mrs. harold and polly had returned from old point and upon a beautiful april afternoon polly and peggy were out on the little training track where polly, mounted upon silver star, was taking her first lesson in hurdles; a branch of her equestrian education which thus far had not been taken up. star was beautifully trained, and took the low hurdles like a lapwing, though it must be confessed that polly felt as though her head had snapped off short the first time he rose and landed. "my gracious, peggy, do you nearly break your neck every time you take a fence?" she cried, settling her hat which had flopped down over her face. "not quite," laughed peggy, skimming over a five-barred hurdle as though it were five inches. "but, oh, polly, look at salt! look at him! he acts as though he'd gone crazy," she cried, for the horse had come to the fence which divided his field from the track and was neighing and pawing in the most excited manner, now and again making feints of springing over. "why i believe he would jump if he only knew how," answered polly eagerly. "and i believe he does know how already," and peggy slipped from shashai to go to the fence. just then, however, the sound of an approaching vehicle caught her ears, and the next instant salt was tearing away across the field like a wild thing, neighing loudly with every bound, and from the roadway came the answering neigh for which he had waited so long, and pepper came plodding along, striving his best to hasten toward the call he knew and loved. but pepper had not been full-fed with oats, corn and bran-mashes, doctored by a skilled hand, or groomed by jim jarvis, as salt had been for nearly four blissful weeks, and an empty stomach is a poor spur. but he could come to the fence and rub noses with salt, and peggy and polly nearly fell into each other's arms with delight. "oh, doesn't it make you just want to cry to see them?" said polly, half tearfully. "they shan't be separated again," was peggy's positive assertion. "how do you do, mr. bolivar? why, nelly, have you been ill?" for the girl looked almost too sick to sit up. "yes, miss peggy, that's why dad couldn't come sooner. he had to take care of me. he has fretted terribly over it too, because--" "now, now! tut, tut, honey. never mind, miss peggy don't want to hear nothin' 'bout--" "yes she does, too, and nelly will tell us, she is coming right up to the house with us--this is my friend miss polly howland, nelly--nelly bolivar, polly--and while you go find shelby, mr. bolivar, and tell him i say to take--oh, here you are, shelby. this is mr. bolivar. please take him up to your cottage and take good care of him, and give pepper the very best feed he ever had. then turn him out in the pasture with salt. "we will be back again in an hour to talk horse just as fast as we can, and don't forget what i told you about pepper's points." "i won't, miss peggy, but i ain't got to open more'n half an eye no how." peggy laughed, then slipping her arm through nelly's, said: "come up to the house with us. mammy will know what you need to make you feel stronger, and you are going to be polly's and my girl this afternoon." quick to understand, polly slipped to nelly's other side, and the two strong, robust girls, upon whom fortune and nature had smiled so kindly, led their less fortunate little sister to the great house. chapter xii the spice of pepper and salt about an hour later the girls were back at the paddock, nelly's face alight with joy, for it had not taken good old mammy long to see that the chief cause of nelly's lack of strength was lack of proper nourishment, and her skilled old hands were soon busy with sherry and raw eggs as a preliminary, to be followed by one of aunt cynthia's dainty little luncheons; a luncheon composed of what mammy hinted "mus' be somethin' wha' gwine fer ter stick ter dat po' chile's ribs, 'case she jist nachelly half-starved." consequently, the half-hour spent in partaking of it did more to put new life in little nelly bolivar than many days had done before, and there was physical strength and mental spirit also to sustain her. the old carryall still stood near the training track and saying: "now you sit in there and rest while polly and i do stunts for your amusement," peggy helped nelly into the seat. "i feel just like a real company lady," said nelly happily, as she settled herself to watch the girls whom she admired with all the ardor of her starved little soul. "you are a real company lady," answered peggy and polly, "and we are going to entertain you with a sure-enough circus. all you've got to do is to applaud vigorously no matter how poor the show. come on, polly," and springing upon their horses, which had mean-time been patiently waiting in the care of bud, off they raced around the track, nelly watching with fascinated gaze. meanwhile pepper and salt had been rejoicing in their reunion, salt full of spirit and pranks as the result of his good care, and poor pepper, for once full-fed, wonderfully "chirkered" up in consequence, though in sharp contrast to his mate. as peggy and polly cavorted around the track, racing, jumping and cutting all manner of pranks, salt's attention to his mate seemed to be diverted. the antics of star and shashai, unhampered, happy and free as wild things, seemed to excite him past control. again and again he ran snorting toward the paling, turning to whinny an invitation to pepper, but, even with his poor, half-starved stomach for once well-filled, pepper could not enthuse as his mate did; one square meal a year cannot compensate for so many others missed, and bring about miracles. around and around the track swept the girls, taking hurdles, and cutting a dozen antics. at length peggy, who had been watching salt, stopped, and saying to polly: "i'm going to try an experiment," she slipped from shashai's back. going to the fence she vaulted the four-foot barrier as easily as shashai would have skimmed over six. salt came to her at once, but pepper hesitated. it was only momentary, for soon both heads were nestling confidingly to her. she was never without her little bag of sugar and a lump or two were eagerly accepted. then going to salt's side she crooned into his ear some of her mysterious "nightmare talk," as shelby called it. it was a curious power the girl exercised over animals--almost hypnotic. salt nozzled and fussed over her. then saying: "steady, boy. steady." she gave one of her sudden springs and landed astride his back, saddleless and halterless. he gave a startled snort and tore away around the paddock. polly was now used to any new departure, but nelly gave a little shriek and clasped her hands. "she is all right, don't be frightened," smiled polly. "she can do anything with a horse; i sometimes think she must have been a horse herself once upon a time." nelly looked puzzled, but polly laughed. meanwhile peggy was talking to her unusual mount. he seemed a trifle bewildered, but presently struck into a long, sweeping run--the perfect stride of the racer. peggy gave a quick little nod of understanding as she felt the long, gliding motion she knew so well. as she came around to her friends she reached forward and laying hold of a strand of the silvery mane, said softly: "who--ooa. steady." what was it in the girl's voice which commanded obedience? salt stopped close to his mate and began to rub noses with him as though confiding a secret. "bud," commanded peggy, "go to the stable and fetch me a snaffle bridle." the bridle was brought and carefully adjusted. "come, salt, now we will put it to the test; those flank muscles mean something unless i'm mistaken." during all this shelby and bolivar had come up to the paddock and stood watching the girl. "ain't she jist one fair clipper?" asked shelby, proudly. "lord, but that girl's worth about a dozen of your ornery kind. she's a thoroughbred all through, she is." "well, i ain't never seen nothin' like that, fer a fact, i ain't. i knowed them was good horses, but, well, i didn't know they was saddle horses." "they've more'n saddle horses, man, an' i'm bettin' a month's wages your eyes'll fair pop out inside five minutes. i know her ways. i larned 'em to her, some on 'em, at least--but most was born in her. they has ter be. there's some things can't be l'arnt, man." once more peggy started, this time her mount showing greater confidence in her. at first they loped lightly around the paddock, poor old pepper alternately following, then stopping to look at his mate, apparently trying to reason it all out. gradually the pace increased until once more salt swept along in the stride which from time immemorial has distinguished racing blood. the fifth time around the broad field, peggy turned him suddenly and making straight for the paling, cried in a ringing voice: "on! on! up--over!" the horse quivered, his muscles grew tense, then there was a gathering together of the best in him and the fence was taken as only running blood takes an obstacle. then her surprise came: pepper meantime seemed to have lost his wits. as salt neared the fence, the mate who for years had plodded beside him began to tear around and around the field, snorting, whinnying and giving way to the wildest excitement. as salt skimmed over the fence pepper's decorum fled, and with a loud neigh he tore after him, made a wild leap and cleared the barrier by a foot, then startled and shaken from his unwonted exertion, he stood with legs wide apart, trembling and quivering. in an instant peggy had wheeled her mount and was beside the poor frightened creature; frightened because his blood had asserted itself and he had literally outdone himself. slipping from salt's back she tossed her bridle to shelby who had hurried toward her, and taking pepper's head in her arms petted and caressed him as she would have petted and caressed a child which had made a superhuman effort to perform some seemingly impossible act. "nelly, nelly, come here. come. he will know your voice so much better than mine," she called, and nelly scrambled out of the wagon as quickly as possible, crying: "why, miss stewart, how did you do it. why we never knew they were so wonderful. oh, dad, did you know they could jump and run like that?" "i knew they come o' stock that had run, an' jumped like that, but i didn't know all that ginger was in 'em. no i did not. it took miss stewart fer ter find that out, an' she sure has found it. why, pepper, old hoss," he added, stroking the horse's neck, "you've sartin' done yo'self proud this day." pepper nozzled and nickered over him, evidently trying to tell him that the act had been partly inspired by the call of the blood, and partly by his love for his mate. perhaps bolivar did not interpret it just that way, but peggy did. "mr. bolivar, i know nelly loves pepper and salt, but i'd like to make you an offer for those horses just the same. i knew when i first saw them that they had splendid possibilities and only needed half a chance. you need two strong, able work-horses for your farm--these horses are both too high-bred for such work, that you know as well as i do--so i propose that we make a sensible bargain right now. we have a span of bays; good, stout fellows six years old, which we have used on the estate. they shall be yours for this pair with one hundred and twentyfive dollars to boot. salt and pepper are worth six hundred dollars right now, and in a little while, and under proper care and training, will be worth a good deal more. shelby will bear me out in that, won't you?" "i'd be a plumb fool if i didn't, miss," was shelby's reply, and peggy nodded and resumed: "i have paid seventy-five dollars for salt, adding to that the one-twenty-five and the span, which i value at four hundred, would make it a square deal, don't you think so?" bolivar looked at the girl as though he thought she had taken leave of her wits. "one hundred and twenty-five dollars, and a span worth four hundred for a pair of horses which a month before he would have found it hard to sell for seventy-five each?--well, miss stewart must certainly be crazy." peggy laughed at his bewilderment. "i'm perfectly serious, mr. bolivar," she said. "yas'm, yas'm, but, my lord, miss, i ain't seen that much money in two year, and your horses--i ain't seen 'em, and i don't want ter; if you say they're worth it that goes, but--but--well, well, things has been sort o' tough--sort o' tough," and poor, tired, discouraged jim bolivar leaned upon the fence and wept from sheer bodily weakness and nervous exhaustion. nelly ran to his side to clasp her arms about him and cry: "dad! dad! poor dad. don't! don't! it's all right, dad. we won't worry about things. god has taken care of us so far and he isn't going to stop." "that ain't it, honey. that ain't it," said poor bolivar, slipping a trembling arm about her. "it's--it's--oh, i can't jist rightly say what 'tis." "wall by all that's great, _i_ know, then," exclaimed shelby, clapping him on the shoulder. "_i_ know, 'cause i've been there: it's bein' jist down, out an' discouraged with everythin' and not a blame soul fer ter give a man a boost when he needs it. i lived all through that kind o' thing afore i came ter severndale, an' 'taint a picter i like fer ter dwell upon. no it ain't, an' we're goin' ter bust yours ter smithereens right now. you don't want fer ter look at it no longer." "no i don't, i don't fer a fact," answered bolivar, striving manfully to pull himself together and dashing from his eyes the tears which he felt had disgraced him. peggy drew near. her eyes were soft and tender as a doe's, and the pretty lips quivered as she said: "mr. bolivar, please don't try to go home tonight. shelby can put you up, and nelly shall stay with me. you are tired and worn out and the change will do you good. then you can see the horses and talk it all over with shelby, and by tomorrow things will look a lot brighter. and nelly and i will have a little talk together too." "i can't thank ye, miss. no, i can't. there ain't no words big nor grand enough fer ter do that. i ain't never seen nothin' like it, an' yo've made a kind o' heaven fer nelly. yes, go 'long with miss peggy, honey. ye ain't never been so looked after since yo' ma went on ter kingdom come." he kissed the delicate little face and turning to shelby, said: "now come on an' i'll quit actin' like a fool." "there's other kinds o' fools in this world," was shelby's cryptic reply. "jim," he called, "look after them horses," indicating pepper and salt, and once more united, the two were led away to the big stable where their future was destined to bring fame to severndale. bolivar went with shelby to his quarters, and their interest in riding having given way to the greater one in nelly, the girls told bud to take their horses back to the stable. from that moment, nelly bolivar's life was transformed. the following day she and her father went back to the little farm behind the well conditioned span from severndale, and a good supply of provisions for all, for shelby had insisted upon giving them what he called, "a good send off" on his own account, and enough oats and corn went with tom and jerry, as the new horses were named, to keep them well provisioned for many a day. "jist give 'em half a show an' they'll earn their keep," advised shelby. "i'll stop over before long and lend a hand gettin' things ship-shape. i know they're boun' ter get out o' kilter when yo' don't have anybody ter help. one pair o' hands kin only do jist so much no matter how hard they work. good luck." from that hour nelly was peggy's protege. the little motherless girl living so close to severndale, her home, her circumstances in such contrast to her own, wakened in peggy an understanding of what lay almost at her door, and so many trips were made to the little farm-house that spring that shashai and tzaritza often started in that direction of their own accord when peggy set forth upon one of her outings. and meanwhile, over in the hospital, dunmore was growing weaker and weaker as the advancing springtide was bringing to nelly bolivar renewed health and strength, so strangely are things ordered in this world, and with easter the brave spirit took its flight, leaving many to mourn the lad whom all had so loved. for some time the shadow of his passing lay upon the academy, then spring athletics absorbed every one's interest and ralph made the crew, to polly's intense delight. in may he rowed on the plebe crew against a high school crew and beat them "to a standstill." then came rehearsal for the show to be given by the masqueraders, the midshipmen's dramatic association, and at this occurred something which would have been pronounced utterly impossible had the world's opinion been asked. the show was to be given the last week in may. mr. harold and mr. stewart would arrive a few days before, each on a month's leave. as happy was one of the moving spirits of the show, he was up to his eyes in business. clever in everything he undertook, he was especially talented in music, playing well and composing in no mediocre manner. he had written practically all the score of the musical comedy to be given by the masqueraders, and among other features, a whistling chorus. now if there was one thing polly could do it was whistle. indeed, she insisted that it was her only accomplishment and many a happy little impromptu concert was given in middies' haven with happy's guitar, shortie's mandolin and durand's violin. of course, all the characters in the play were taken by the boys, many of them making perfectly fascinating girls, but when the whistling chorus was written by happy, polly was no small aid to him, and again and again this chorus was rehearsed in middies' haven, sometimes by a few of the number who would compose it, and again by the entire number; the star performer being a little chap from ralph's class whose voice still held its boyish treble and whose whistle was like a bird's notes. naturally, polly had learned the entire score, for one afternoon during the past autumn while the girls were riding through the beautiful woodlands near severndale, polly had whistled an answer to a bob-white's call. so perfect had been her mimicry that the bird had been completely deceived and answering repeatedly, had walked almost up to silver star's feet. peggy was enraptured, and then learned that polly could mimic many bird calls, and whistle as sweetly as the birds themselves. peggy had lost no time in making this known to the boys, much to polly's embarrassment, but the outcome had been the delightful little concerts, and happy had made the various bird notes the theme of his bird chorus. it was a wonderfully pretty thing and bound to make a big hit, so all agreed. consequently, little van nostrand had been drilled until he declared he woke himself up in the night whistling, and so the days sped away. mr. harold and daddy neil had arrived and the morning of the masqueraders' show dawned. in less than twelve hours the bird chorus would be on the stage whistling polly's bird notes. then wharton van nostrand fell ill with tonsilitis and was packed off to the hospital! happy was desperate. who under the sun would take his part? there was not another man whose voice was like wharton's. happy flew about like a distracted hen, at length rushing to mrs. harold and begging her to give him just ten minutes private interview. "why, what under the sun do you want, happy?" she asked, going into her own room and debarring all the others whose curiosity was at the snapping point. when they emerged happy's face was brimful of glee, but mrs. harold warned: "mind the promise is only conditional: if polly says 'yes' well and good, but if you let the secret out you and i will be enemies forevermore." chapter xiii the masqueraders' show it was the night of the masqueraders' show. the auditorium was packed, for annapolis was thronged with the relatives of the graduating class as well as hundreds of visitors. among others were polly howland's mother, her married sister constance, and her brother-in-law, harry hunter, now an ensign. they had been married at polly's home in montgentian, n.j., almost a year ago. harry hunter had graduated from the academy the year happy and his class were plebes, and had been the two-striper of the company of which wheedles was now the two-striper. his return to annapolis with his lovely young wife was the signal for all manner of festive doings, and it need hardly be added that mrs. harold's party had a row of seats which commanded every corner of the stage. mr. stewart and peggy were of the party, of course, and anything radiating more perfect happiness than peggy's face that night it would have been hard to find. was not daddy neil beside her, and in her private opinion the finest looking officer present? again and again as she sat next him she slipped her hand into his to give it a rapturous little squeeze. nor was "daddy neil" lacking in appreciation of the favors of the gods. the young girl sitting at his side, in spite of her modesty and utter lack of self-consciousness, was quite charming enough to make any parent's heart thrill with pride. with her exceptional tact, mrs. harold had won harrison's favor, harrison pronouncing her: "a real, born lady, more like your own ma than any one you've met up with since you lost her; she was one perfect lady if one ever lived." it had been rather a delicate position for mrs. harold to assume, that of unauthorized guardian and counsellor to this young girl who had come into her life by such an odd chance, but mrs. harold seemed to be born to mother all the world, and subtly harrison recognized the fact that peggy was growing beyond her care and guidance, and the thousand little amenities of the social world in which she would so soon move and have her being. for more than a year this knowledge had been a source of disquietude to the good soul who for eight years had guarded her little charge so faithfully, and she had often confided to mammy lucy: "that child is getting clear beyond me. she's growin' up that fast it fair takes my breath away, and she knows more right now in five minutes than i ever knew in my whole life, though 'twouldn't never in this world do to let her suspicion it." consequently, once having sized up mrs. harold, and fully decided as the months rolled by that she "weren't no meddlesome busybody, a-trying to run things," she was only too glad to ask her advice in many instances, and peggy's toilet this evening was one of them. poor old harrison had begun to find the intricacies of a young girl's toilet a trifle too complex for her, and had gone to mrs. harold for advice. the manner in which it was given removed any lingering vestige of doubt remaining in harrison's soul, and tonight peggy was a vision of girlish loveliness in a soft pink crepe meteor made with a baby waist, the round neck frilled with the softest lace, the little puffed sleeves edged with it, and a "madam butterfly" sash and bow of the crepe encircling her lithe waist. her hair was drawn loosely back and tied a la pompadour with a bow of pink satin ribbon, another gathering in the rich, soft abundance of it just below the neck. by chance she sat between mrs. howland and her father, mrs. harold was next mrs. howland, with mr. harold, constance and snap just beyond, and polly at the very end of the seat, though why she had slipped there mrs. howland could not understand. peggy had instantly been attracted to mrs. howland and had fallen in love with constance as only a young girl can give way to her admiration for another several years her senior. but there was nothing of the foolish "crush" in her attitude: it was the wholesome admiration of a normal girl, and constance was quick to feel it. mrs. howland was smaller and daintier than mrs. harold, though in other ways there was a striking resemblance between these two sisters. mrs. harold, largely as the result of having lived among people in the service, was prompt, decisive of action, and rather commanding in manner, though possessing a most tender, sympathetic heart. mrs. howland, whose whole life had been spent in her home, with the exception of the trips taken with her husband and children when they were young, for she had been a widow many years, had a rather retiring manner, gentle and lovable, and, as peggy thought, altogether adorable, for her manner with polly was tenderness itself, and polly's love for her mother was constantly manifested in a thousand little affectionate acts. she had a little trick of running up to her and half crying, half crooning: "let me play cooney-kitten and get close," and then nestling her sunny head into her mother's neck, where the darker head invariably snuggled down against it and a caressing hand stroked the spun gold as a gentle voice said: "mother's sun-child. the little daughter who helps fill her world with light." polly loved to hear those words and peggy thought how dear it must be to have some claim to such a tender love and know that one meant so much to the joy and happiness of another. mrs. harold had written a great deal of peggy's history to this sister, so mrs. howland felt by no means a stranger to the young girl beside her, and her heart was full of sympathy when she thought of her lonely life in spite of all this world had given her of worldly goods. meantime the little opera opened with a dashing chorus, a ballet composed, apparently, of about fifty fetching young girls, gowned in the most up-to-date costumes, wearing large picture hats which were the envy of many a real feminine heart in the audience, and carrying green parsols with long sticks and fascinating tassles. oh, the costumer knew his business and those dainty high-heeled french slippers seemed at least five sizes smaller than they really were as they tripped so lightly through the mazes of the ballet. but alack! the illusion was just a trifle dispelled when the ballet-girls broke into a rollicking chorus, for some of those voices boomed across the auditorium with an undoubtable masculine power. nevertheless, the ballet was encored until the poor dancers were mopping rouge-tinged perspiration from their faces. one scene followed another in rapid order, all going off without a hitch until the curtain fell upon the first act, and during the interval and general bustle of friend greeting friend polly and mrs. harold disappeared. at first, mrs. howland was not aware of their absence, then becoming alive to it she asked: "connie, dear, what has become of aunt janet and polly?" "i am sure i don't know, mother. they were here only a moment ago," answered constance. "i saw them go off with happy, beating it for all they were worth toward the wings, carissima," answered snap, using for mrs. howland the name he had given her when he first met her, for this splendid big son-in-law loved her as though she were his own mother, and that love was returned in full. "peggy, dear, can you enlighten us?" asked mrs. howland looking at the girl beside her, for her lips were twitching and her eyes a-twinkle. peggy laughed outright, then cried contritely: "oh, i beg your pardon, mrs. howland, i did not mean to be rude, but it is a secret, and such a funny one, too; i'd tell if i dared but i've promised not to breathe it." "run out an extra cable then, daughter," laughed commander stewart. "i think this one will hold," was mrs. howland's prompt answer, with a little pat upon peggy's soft arm. "she's a staunch little craft, i fancy. i won't ask a single question if i must not." a moment later the lights were lowered and the curtains were rung back. the scene drew instant applause. it was a pretty woodland with a stream flowing in the background. grouped upon the stage in picturesque attitudes were about forty figures costumed to represent various birds, and in their midst was a charming little maiden, evidently the only human being in this bird-world, and presently it was disclosed to the audience that she was held as a hostage to these bird-beings, until the prince of their enchanted world should be released from bondage in the land of human beings and restored to them. "why who in this world can that little chap be?" "i didn't know there was such a tiny midshipman in the whole brigade." "doesn't he make a perfectly darling girl, though?" "perfectly lovable, hugable and adorable," were the laughing comments. in the dim light peggy buried her head in daddy neil's lap, trying to smother her laughter. "you--you little conspirator," he whispered. "i believe i've caught on." "oh, don't whisper it. don't!" instantly begged peggy. "polly would never forgive me for letting out the secret." "you haven't. i just did a little yankee guessing, and i reckon i'm not far from the mark." "hush, and listen. isn't it pretty?" it was, indeed, pretty. the captive princess, captured because she had learned the secret of the bird language, began a little plaintive whistling call, soft, sweet, musical as a flute; the perfect notes of the hermit thrush. this was evidently the theme to be elaborated upon and the chorus took it up, led so easily, so harmoniously and so faultlessly by the dainty little figure with its bird-like notes. from the hermit-thrush's note to the liquid call of the wood-thrush, the wood-peewee, the cardinal's cheery song, the whip-poor-will's insistent questioning, on through the gamut of cat-birds, warblers, bob-whites and a dozen others, ran the pretty chorus, with its variations, the little princess' and her jailor birds' dancing and whistling completing the clever theme. when it ended the house went mad clapping, calling, shouting: "encore! encore!" and before it could be satisfied the obliging actors had given their chorus and ballet five times, and the whistlers' throats were dry as powder. as they left the stage for the last time the little princess flung herself into mrs. harold's arms, gasping. "i know my whistle is smashed, destroyed, and mined beyond repair, aunt janet, but oh, wasn't it perfectly splendid to do it for the boys and hear that house applaud them." "them?" cried a feathered creature coming up to give polly a clap upon the back as he would have given a classmate. "them! and where the mischief do you come in on this show-down? there listen to that. do you know what it means? it means come out there in front of that curtain and get what's coming to you. come on." "oh, i can't! i can't! they'd recognize me and i wouldn't have them for worlds. not for worlds! it would be perfectly awful," and polly shrank back abashed. "recognized! awful nothing! you've got to come out. it's part of the performance," and hand in hand with happy and wheedles the abashed little princess was led before the foot-lights to receive an ovation and enough american beauty roses to hide her in a good-sized bower. as she started back she let fall some of her posies. instantly, wheedles was upon his knees, his hand pressed to his heart, and his eyes dancing with fun, as he handed her the roses. shouts and renewed applause went up from the auditorium. "i know that is a girl. i am positive of it. but who can she be?" was the comment of one of the ladies behind mrs. howland. "well i have an idea _i_ might tell her name if i chose," said mrs. howland under her breath to peggy. "didn't she do it beautifully?" whispered peggy, squeezing mrs. howland's hand in a rapture. "but please don't tell. please don't." mrs. howland smiled down upon the eager face upraised to hers. "do you think i am likely to?" she asked. peggy nodded her head in negative, but before she could say more polly and another girl came walking down the aisle. even peggy looked in surprise at the newcomer, then she gave a little gasp. the girl was much taller than polly, and rather broad shouldered for a girl, but strange to relate, looked enough like peggy to be her twin. mr. stewart gave a startled exclamation and seemed about to rise from his seat. peggy laid a detaining hand upon his and whispered: "don't." her father looked at her as though he did not know whether his wits or hers were departing. the play was again in progress so polly and her companion took their seats next mrs. harold who had returned some minutes before. polly was doing her best to control her laughter, but the girl with her was the very personification of decorum. "in heaven's name who is that girl?" peggy's father asked in a low voice. "he's--he's--" and peggy broke down. "what?" "yes--i'll tell you later, but isn't it too funny for words?" "why child she--he-ahem--that person is enough like you to be your sister. who--" and poor puzzled neil stewart was too bewildered to complete his sentence or follow the play. "yes; i've known that from the first and it is perfectly absurd," answered peggy, "but i never realized how like me until this minute. but he will catch the very mischief if he is found out. but where did he get those clothes? they aren't a part of the costumes so far as i know." but there is just where peggy's calculations fell down, for the dainty lingerie gown, with its exquisite charlotte corday hat had been added to the costumes to substitute others which had been ordered but could not be supplied. consequently peggy had not happened to see it. and the handsome girl? well she certainly was a beauty with her dark hair, perfect eyebrows, flashing dark eyes and faultless teeth. her skin was dark but the cheeks were mantled with a wonderful color. as the play was still in progress, she could not, of course, enter into conversation with polly's friends, but her smile was fascinating to a rare degree. at length the second act ended, and neil stewart could stand it no longer. "peggy, introduce me to that girl right off. why---why, she might be you," and peggy's father fairly mopped his brow in perturbation. peggy beckoned to the new arrival who managed to slip around the aisle and come to her end of the seat. if she minced with a rather affected step it was not commented upon. most people were too fascinated by her beauty to criticise her walk. the look which the two exchanged puzzled mr. stewart more than ever. peggy's lips were quivering as she said: "miss--er, miss leroux, i want you to know mrs. howland and my father." "so delighted to," replied "miss" leroux, but at the words mrs. rowland gave a little gasp and mr. stewart who had risen to meet peggy's friend, started as though some one had struck him, for the voice, even with durand's best attempts to disguise it to a feminine pitch, held a quality which no girl's voice ever held. "well i'll be--i'll be--why you unqualified scamp, who are you, and what do you mean by looking so exactly like my girl here that i don't know whether i've one daughter or two?" then durand fled, laughing as only durand could--with eyes, lips and an indescribable expression which made both the laugh and himself absolutely irresistible. the following week sped away and before any one quite knew where it had gone the great june ball was a thing of the past and the morning had come which would mean the dividing of the ways for many. happy, wheedles, and shortie had graduated and would have a month's leave. durand was now a second-classman, ralph a youngster, and about to start upon the summer practice cruise. the ships were to run down to hampton roads and then up to new london, where mrs. harold and all her party were to meet them, she and mrs. howland having taken rooms at the griswold for the period the ships would be at new london. they had asked peggy to go with them and when "daddy neil" arrived he was included in the invitation. but daddy neil had a plan or two of his own, and these plans he was not long in turning over with mr. harold to the satisfaction of all concerned, and they all decided that they "beat the first ones out of sight." as daddy neil was a man of prompt action he was not long in carrying them into effect, and they were nothing more nor less than a big house party in new london rather than the hotel life which had been planned. so telegraph wires were kept busy, and in no time one of the griswold cottages was at the disposal of the entire party. chapter xiv off for new london "now i'm going to run this show, harold, and you may just as well pipe down," rumbled neil stewart in his deep, wholesome voice. "besides, i'm your ranking officer and here's where i prove it," he added, forcing mr. harold into his pet morris chair and towering above him, his genial laugh filling the room. it was the sunday afternoon following graduation. many, indeed the greater portion of the graduates, had left for their homes, or to pay visits to friends before joining their ships at the end of their month's leave, though some still lingered, their plans as yet unformed. wilmot hall was practically deserted, for the scattering which takes place after graduation is hard to understand unless one is upon the scene to witness it. mr. and mrs. harold, with mr. stewart, peggy, mrs. howland, constance, snap, polly, shortie, wheedles and happy were gathered in middies' haven, and neil stewart had the floor. since his return to severndale he had spent more than half the time at wilmot where his lodestar, peggy, was staying with those she had grown to love so dearly, and where she was so entirely happy. mr. stewart had taken a room for june week in order to be near her, feeling reluctant to take her away from the friends who had done so much for her; more, a vast deal, he felt, than he could ever repay. it did not take him long to see the change which nine months had made in this little girl of his. always lovable and exceptionally capable, there was now the added charm which association with a girl of her own age had developed in spontaneity, and her attitude toward mrs. harold--the pretty little affectionate demonstrations so unconsciously made--revealed to her father what peggy had lacked for nearly nine years, and he began to waken to the fact to which mrs. harold had been alive for some time: that without meaning to be selfish in his sorrow for peggy's mother, he had been wholly self-absorbed, leaving peggy to live her life in a little world of her own creation. during the past two weeks he had been put through a pretty severe scrutiny by mrs. harold, and in spite of her prejudices she began to see how circumstances had conspired to evolve the unusual order of things for both father and daughter, and her heart softened toward the big man who, while so complete a master of every situation on board his own ship, was so helpless to cope with this domestic problem. nor could she see her way clear to remedy it further than she had already done. it seemed to be one of life's handicaps. but we can not understand the "why" of all things in this world, and must leave a great deal of it to the father of all. just now it seemed as though neil stewart was the instrument of that ordering. mr. harold looked up at him and joined in the laugh. "maybe you think i'm going to give these fellows a demonstration of insubordination the very first clip. not on your life. fire away. you have the deck." "well, i've got my cottage up there in new london--a good one too, if i can judge by all the hot air that has escaped concerning it. jerome and mammy are packed off to open it up and make it habitable against our arrival, and everything's all skee and shipshape so far as that part of the plan is blocked out. the ship's in commission but now comes the question of her personnel. you, harold, and your wife have been good enough to act as second and third in command but we must have junior officers. thus far the detail foots up only five; just a trifle shy on numbers, and i want it to number, let me see, at least eleven," and he nodded toward the others seated about the room. some looked at him in doubt. then happy said: "but, mr. stewart. i'm afraid i've got to beat it for home, sir." "where is home?" "up the hudson, sir." "that's all right. and yours?" indicating shortie. "vermont, sir." "and yours?" "near philadelphia, sir," said wheedles. "all within twelve hours of new london, aren't they?" "yes sir." "very well; that settles it. you give us ten days at least, and we'll do the regatta at new london and any other old thing worth doing. will you wire your people that you're going with us? 'orders from your superior officer.' who knows but you may all hit my ship and in that case you may as well fall in at once." "well you better believe there'll be no kick--i beg your pardon sir--i mean, i'll be delighted," stammered happy. "that western union wire is going to fuse, sir," was wheedles' characteristic response. "i said last time i was up at new london that i'd be singed and sizzled if i ever went again, sir, and that just goes to show 'what fools we mortals be'," was shortie's quizzical answer. "orders received and promptly obeyed. so far so good," was the hearty response. "now to the next. mrs. howland, what about you and your plans! we've got this little girl in tow all tight and fast, but you haven't put out a signal." "it all sounds most enticing, but do you know i have another girl to think about? she is up at smith college and will graduate in one week. i must be there for that if i never do another thing. it is an event in her life and mine." "hum; yes; i see; of course. we've got to get around that, haven't we? and i dare say you two think you've got to be on deck also," he added, nodding at constance and snap, who in return nodded their reply in a very positive manner. "are you going to jump ship too, little captain?" he asked, turning suddenly to polly. "oh please don't. we need you so much," pleaded peggy. "i'd like to see gail graduate, but oh, i do want to go to new london just dreadfully," cried polly. "you would better go, dear," said mrs. howland, deciding the question for her. "you would have but three days at northampton and they would hardly mean as much to you as the same number at new london. constance, snap and i will go up, and then perhaps we will come on to new london. i must first learn gail's plans." "you will all come up. every last one of you, gail too; and if gail bears even a passing resemblance to the rest of her family she isn't going to disgrace it." "she's perfectly lovely, mr. stewart," was polly's emphatic praise of her pretty, twenty-year-old sister. "your word goes, captain," answered mr. stewart, crossing the room to where the girls sat upon the couch. "gangway, please," he said, motioning them apart and seating himself between them. "my, but these are pretty snug quarters," he added, placing an arm around each and drawing them close to him. peggy promptly nestled her head upon his shoulder. "my other shoulder feels lonesome," said mr. stewart, smiling into polly's face. the next second the bronze head was cuddled down also. "that's pretty nice. best game of rouge et noir ever invented," nodded neil stewart, a happy smile upon his strong face. "now to proceed: there are, thus far, eleven of us. when we capture gail we shall have twelve. a round dozen. good! now how to get up there is the next question. i've hit it! let's make an auto trip of it.'' "an auto trip," chorused the others. "sure thing! why not? look here, people, this is my holiday. such a holiday as i haven't had in years, and at the end of it is something else for me. harold knows, but he's been too wise to give it away. i didn't know it myself until i came through washington, but--well--it's pretty good news. i didn't mean to blurt it out, but this is sort of a family conclave and i needn't ask you all to keep it in the family; but up there in the boston navy yard is an old fighting machine of which i am to be captain when i get back in harness--" "what! oh, daddy! daddy! how splendid!" cried peggy. "oh, i've just got to hug you hard,'' and she smothered him in a regular bear hug. "that's better than the promotion," he said, his eyes shining, and his thoughts harking back to another impulsive young girl who had clasped her arms about him when he received his commission as lieutenant. how like her peggy was growing. it would have meant a good deal to her could she have lived to see him attain his captaincy. he always recalled her as a young girl. it was almost impossible for him to realize that were she now alive she would be mrs. harold's age, though she was considerably younger than himself when they had married. and so it was settled. neil stewart was to engage a couple of large touring cars for a month and in these the party was to make the trip to new london. a man of prompt action, he lost no time in putting his plan into effect, and the following wednesday a merry party set out from wilmot hall. each car carried six comfortably in addition to the chauffeur. each was provided with everything necessary for the long trip which they calculated would take about three days, and the pairing off was arranged to every one's satisfaction, an arrangement known to have exceptions. mr. and mrs. harold, happy, shortie and polly and peggy were in one car, mr. stewart, mrs. howland, snap, constance and wheedles in the other, the extra seat, mr. stewart said was to be held in reserve for gail when mrs. howland should bring her to new london. none of the party ever forgot that auto ride through maryland, pennsylvania, new jersey, new york and connecticut. the weather was ideal, and for the men just ashore after months of sea-duty, and the midshipmen, just emancipated from four years of the strictest discipline and a most limited horizon, it was a most wonderful world of green things, and an endless panorama of beauty. one night was spent in philadelphia where all stopped at the aldine and went to see "the balkan princess." another night in new york at the astor with "excuse me" to throw every one into hysterics of laughter. and what a revelation it all was to peggy. what a new world she had entered. "i didn't know there could be anything like it," she confided to polly, "and oh, isn't it splendid. but how i wish i could just share it with everybody." "it seems to me you are sharing it with a good many bodies, peggy stewart. what do you call ten people besides yourself?" "oh, i mean people who never have or see anything like it. like nelly, for instance, and--and--oh just dozens of people who seem to go all their lives and never have any of the things which so many other people have. i wonder why it is so, polly? it doesn't seem just right, does it?" "i wonder if you know how many people you make happy in the course of a year, peggy stewart. i don't believe you have the least idea, but it's a pity a few of them couldn't lift up their voices and make it known." "well, i'm right thankful they can't. it would be awful." it was a glorious june afternoon when the two big touring cars swept under the porte-cochere of the griswold hotel at new london, and attendants hurried out to assist the new arrivals from them. mr. stewart waved them aside and saying to his guests: "wait here until i find out where that shack of ours is located and then we'll go right over to it and get fixed tip as soon as possible," he disappeared into the hotel to return a moment later with a clerk. "this man will direct us," and presently the cars were rolling down toward the shore road. in five minutes they had stopped before a large bungalow situated far out on one of the rocky points commanding the entire sweep of the bay, and before them riding at anchor was the practice squadron, the good old flagship olympia, on which commodore dewey had fought the battle of manila bay, standing bravely out from among her sister ships the chicago, the tonopah and the old frigate hartford anchored along the roadstead. "oh, peggy! peggy! see them! see them! don't you love them, every inch of them, from the fighting top to the very anchor chains? i do." "i ought to," assented peggy, "for dad! loves his ship next to me i believe." "how could he help it?" they were now hurrying into the cottage where jerome and mammy were waiting to welcome them. a couple of servants had been sent over from the griswold to complete the menage with mammy and jerome as commanders-in-chief. it was a pretty cottage with a broad veranda running around three sides of it and built far out over the water on the front; an ideal spot for a month's outing. launches were darting to and from the ships with liberty parties, often with two or three cutters in tow filled with laughing, skylarking midshipmen. on the opposite shore where the old pequoit house had once stood, was another landing at which many of the ships' boats, or shore boats, were also making landings with parties which had been out to visit the ships. the ships wore a festive air with awnings stretched above their quarter-decks and altogether it was an enchanting picture. mammy welcomed her family with enthusiasm, and jerome with the ceremony he never omitted, and in less time than seemed possible all were settled in their spacious, airy rooms. mr. and mrs. harold had a room looking out over the river, with the two girls next them, while mrs. howland, mr. stewart, snap and constance had rooms just beyond, the three boys being quartered on the floor above. "oh, peggy, isn't it the dearest place you ever saw?" cried polly, running out on the balcony upon which their room gave. "and there's the dear old flat-iron," the "flat-iron" being the name bestowed by the boys upon the monitor tonopah because she set so low in the water and was shaped not unlike one, her turrets sticking up like bumpy handles. "look, polly! look! some one is wigwagging on the bridge of the olympia. oh, daddy neil, daddy neil, come quickly and tell us what they are saying," she called into the next room. neil stewart hurried out to the balcony, slightly lowering his eyelids as he would have done at sea, a little trick acquired by most men who look across the water. "why they are signalling us," he exclaimed. "that's boynton on the bridge," mentioning an officer whom he knew, "and the chap signalling is--you--no, no i don't mean that, i mean it's the chap who ought to be you, that devon, deroux, no--leroux--isn't that his name? the fellow who rigged up in girl's clothes and fooled me to a frazzle. he's saying-what's that? hold on--yes! 'welcome to new london' and--'coming on board.' that means that a whole bunch will descend upon us tonight i'll bet all i'm worth. well, let 'em come! let 'em come! the more the merrier for there's nothing amiss with the commissary department. here, happy, happy, come and answer that signal out yonder. i'm rusty, but you ought to have it down pat." "aye, aye, sir," answered happy, appearing at the window overhead and by some miraculous means scrambling through it and letting himself drop to the balcony where mr. stewart and the girls were standing. "give me a towel, quick, peggy." peggy rushed for a towel and a moment later the funny wigwag was answering: "come along. delighted." and that night the bungalow was filled to overflowing, for not only did the boys come, but several officers who had known mr. stewart and mr. harold for years were eager to renew their acquaintance, and talk over old days. "and you've come just in time for the regatta. going to be a big race this year. the men are up at gales ferry now and look fit to a finish. how are you planning to see it?" asked the captain of the olympia. "haven't planned a thing yet. why we've only just struck our holding ground, man." "good, i'm glad of it. that fixes it all right. you are all to be my guests that day--yes--no protests. rockhill has gone to europe and left his launch at my service and she's a jim-dandy, let me tell you. she's a sixty-footer and goes through the water like a knife blade. you'll all come with me and we'll see the show from a private box." "can you carry all of us?" asked peggy incredulously. "every last one, little girl, and a dozen more if you like. so fly to the east and fly to the west and then invite the very one whom you love best," answered captain boynton, pinching peggy's velvety cheek. "oh, there are so many we love best," she laughed, "that we'd never dare ask them all, would we, polly?" "let's ask all who are here tonight," was polly's diplomatic answer, "then no one can feel hurt." "hoopla!" rose from the other end of the porch where durand, ralph, and three of the other boys from the ships were sitting around a big bamboo table drinking lemonade. and so the party was then and there arranged for new london's big day. chapter xv regatta day peggy and polly scrambled out of bed the morning of the yale-harvard crew race, to find all the world sparkling and cool with a stiff breeze from the sound. it was a wonderful day and already the sight presented in the bay was enough to thrill the dullest soul. during the five days in which "navy bungalow," as it had been promptly named by the young people, had been occupied by the congenial party from annapolis, old friendships had strengthened and new ones ripened, and a happier gathering of people beneath one roof it would have been hard to find. perfect freedom was accorded every one, and the boys who had just graduated soon found their places with the older officers, for the transition, once the diploma is won, is a swift one. as passed midshipmen and "sure enough" junior officers, they had an established position impossible during their student days in the academy. the boys on the practice cruise also felt a greater degree of liberty, and the fact that they were the proteges of commander harold and captain stewart gave them an entree everywhere. to durand the experience was not a new one, for he had the faculty of winning an entree almost anywhere, but to ralph and his roommate, jean paul nicholas, as bright, merry a chap as ever looked frankly into one's face with a pair of the clearest, snappiest blue eyes ever seen, the world was an entirely new one and fairly overflowing with delightful experiences. then, too, they were now youngsters instead of plebes, and this fact alone would have been almost enough to fill their cups with joy. the other boys who came from the ships had been second-classmen during the past year, but were now in all the glory of first-classmen, and doing their best to make good during the cruise in order to carry off some of the stripes waiting to be bestowed upon the efficient ones during the coming october. in the two weeks spent with mrs. harold at annapolis, mrs. howland had learned to love peggy stewart very dearly and mrs. harold said: "madeline, you have won more from peggy stewart than you realize. she has a rarely sweet character, though i am forced to admit that she seems to have been navigating uncharted waters. i have never known a girl of her age to live such an extraordinary life and why she is half as lovable, charming and possessed of so much character, is a problem i have been trying all winter to solve. but i rather dread the next few years for her unless some one both wise and affectionate takes that little clipper ship's helm. she is entirely beyond harrison and mammy now, and her father hasn't even a passing acquaintance with his only child. he thinks he has, and he loves her devotedly, but there's more to peggy stewart in one hour than neil stewart will discover in years at the rate of two months out of twelve spent with her. i think the world of the child, but polly is my girl, and has slipped into constance's place. i want you to let her stay with me, too. i have been so happy this winter, and she with me, but i wish there was someone to be in peggy's home, or she could be sent to a good school for a year or two. sometimes i think that would be the best arrangement in the long run." meanwhile peggy was entirely unaware of the manner in which her future was being discussed and she and polly were looking forward to regatta day with the liveliest anticipation. as peggy and polly looked out over the bay and up the river that perfect morning peggy cried: "oh, polly could anything be lovelier than this day? the sky is like a blue canopy, not a cloud to be seen, the air just sets one nearly crazy, and that blue, sparkling water makes me long to dive head-first into it." "well, why not?" asked polly. "it is only half past six and loads of time for a dip before breakfast. let's get into our bathing suits, bang on the ceiling to wake up happy, shortie and wheedles and make them stick their heads out of the window." it did not take five minutes to carry the suggestion into effect and a golf stick thumping "reveille" under wheedles' bed effectually brought him back from dreams of annapolis. rousing out the other two he stuck a tousled head out of his window to be hailed by two bonny little figures prancing excitedly upon the balcony beneath him. "hello, great god sumnus," cried polly, "wake up! oh, but you do look sleepy. stir up the others. peggy and i are going down for a dip before breakfast and to judge by your eyes they need the sand washed out of them." "awh! whow! oh," yawned wheedles, striving vainly to keep his mouth closed and to get his eyes opened. just then two other heads appeared. "what's doing? house afire?" they asked. "no, it's the other element--water," laughed peggy. "come and get into it. that's what we are going to do. you may think those pink and blue jackets you're wearing are the prettiest things in the world--we know they are part of your graduation "trousseau," but bathing suits are in order just now. so put them on and hurry down." "bet your life," was chorused as the three tousled heads vanished. the average midshipman's "shift" requires as a rule, about two minutes, and passed-middies are no exception. before it seemed possible three bath-robed figures joined the girls, who had put their raincoats over their bathing suits, and all slipped down to the little beach in front of the cottage and struck out for the float anchored about fifty feet off shore. what a sight the bay and river presented that morning. hundreds of beautiful yachts, foregathered from every part of the world, for new london makes a wonderful showing regatta week, and flying the flags of innumerable yacht clubs, were crowding the roadstead. a more inspiring sight it would be difficult to imagine. just beyond the float, and lying between the olympia and navy bungalow, the pretty little naptha launch on which captain stewart's party were to be captain boynton's guests, rode lightly at anchor, her bright work reflecting the sunlight, her awning a-flutter, her signal pennant waving bravely. "i've got to play i'm a porpoise. i've simply got to. come on, wheedles, nothing else will work off my pent-up excitement," cried polly, diving off the float to tumble and turn over and over in the water very like the fish she named, for polly's training with captain pennell during the winter had made her almost as much at home in the water as on land and peggy swam equally well. while the young people were splashing about mrs. harold and mrs. howland came out on the piazza to enjoy the sight. for half an hour the five splashed, dove, and gamboled as carefree as five young seals, and with as much freedom, then all hurried into the bathhouses where mammy and jerome had already anticipated their needs by hurrying down with a supply of necessary wearing apparel; a trifling matter quite overlooked by the bathers themselves. a gayer, heartier, more glowing group of young people than those gathered at the breakfast table could not have been found in new london or anywhere else; certainly not at the griswold where the majority of them were either satiated society girls whose winters had been spent in a mad social whirl, or the blase city youths who at nineteen had already found life "such a beastly bore." "gad," cried neil stewart, slapping shortie's broad shoulders, "but it's refreshing to find fellows of your age who can still show up such a glow in their cheeks, and such a light in their eyes, and an enthusiasm so infectious that it sets a-tingle every drop of blood in an old kerfoozalem like me. hang fast to it like grim death, for you'll never get it back if you once lose it. that old school down there turns out chaps who can get more out of the simple life than any bunch i know of. it may be the simple life in some respects, but it's got a confounded lot of hard work in it all the same, and when you've finished that you're ready to take your fun, and you take it just as hard as you take your work, and i don't want to see a better bunch of men than that system shows. i was over at the hotel last night, talking with four or five chaps, younger than you fellows here, and i swear it made me sick: bored to extinction doing nothing. i'd like to take 'em on board for just about one month and if they didn't find something doing in a watch or two i'd know why. keep right on having your fun, you and the girls-yes, girls, not a lot of kids playing at being nerve-racked society women." "hear! hear!" cried glenn harold. "what's stirred you up, old man?" "that bunch over yonder. keep a little girl as long as you can peggy, and you, polly, hold your present course. who ever charted it for you knew navigation all right." "i guess mother began it and then turned the job over to aunt janet, sir," answered polly. "well, she knew her business all right. i'm mighty sorry she can't be here today to see the race, but when she comes back from northampton she'll bring that other girl i'm so anxious to know too. by george, the rowland crowd puts up a good showing, and they seem to know how to choose their messmates too, if i can judge by hunter." "isn't he the dearest brother a girl ever had?" asked polly enthusiastically, for her love for her brother-in-law was a subject of pleasurable comment to all who knew her. "one of the best ever, as i hear on all sides," was captain stewart's satisfactory answer. "but here comes boynton. ahoy! olympia ahoy!" he shouted, hurrying out upon the piazza as a launch from the olympia came boiling "four bells" toward navy bungalow's dock, the white clad jackies looking particularly festive and captain boynton of the olympia with commander star of the chicago sitting aft. they waved their caps gaily and shouted in return. "glorious day! great, isn't it?" as the launch ran alongside the dock and friends hurried down to meet friends. "we came over to see how early you could be ready. we must get up the course in good season this afternoon in order to secure a vantage point. mrs. boynton wants you all--yes--the whole bunch, to come over to the griswold for an early luncheon. mrs. star will be with her and we'll shove off right afterward. now no protests," as captain stewart seemed inclined to demur. "all right. your word goes. "we'll report for duty. what's the hour?" "twelve sharp. there's going to be an all-fired jam in that hotel but mrs. b. has a private dining-room ready for us and has bribed the head waiter to a degree that has nearly proved my ruin. but never mind. we can't see the yale-harvard race every day, and a month hence we'll be up in maine with all this fun behind us." that luncheon was a jolly one. captain boynton had a daughter a little younger than peggy and mr. star a little girl of eight. promptly at two the party went down to the griswold dock, gay with excitement and a holiday crowd embarking in every sort of craft, all bound for the course up the river. the naptha launch had been run alongside the long griswold pier and it did not take long for captain boynton's party to scramble aboard. captain boynton, captain stewart and the girls went forward, some of the boys making for the bow where the outlook was enough to stir older and far more staid souls than any the frolic carried that day. they cast off, and soon were making their fussy way in and out among the hundreds of launches, yachts and craft of every known description. the crew of the frolic was a picked one, the coxswain, an experienced hand, as was certainly required that day. the pretty launch was dressed in all her bunting, and flying the flag of her club. through the mass of festive shipping the launch worked her way, guided by the steady hand of the man at her wheel, his gray eyes alert for every move on port or starboard. peggy and polly were close beside him. captain stewart and captain boynton stood a little behind watching the girls, whose eager eyes noted every turn of the wheel. an odd light came into captain boynton's eyes as he watched them. presently he asked peggy: "do you think you could handle a launch, little girl?" "why--perhaps i could--a little," answered peggy modestly. "why, peggy stewart, there isn't a girl in annapolis who can handle a launch or a sailboat as you do," cried polly, aroused to emphatic protest. peggy blushed, and laughingly replied: "only polly howland, the annapolis co-ed." "eh? what's that?" asked captain boynton. "oh, polly has had a regular course in seamanship, captain boynton, and knows just everything." "any more than you do, miss?" demanded polly. "yes, lots," insisted peggy. "well, i'll wager anything you could take this launch up the river as easily as the coxswain is doing it," was polly's excited statement. "how's that, stewart? have you been teaching your girl navigation?" "i hadn't a thing to do with it. it's all due to the good friends who have been looking after her while i've been shooting up targets. but polly's right. she can handle a craft and so can this little redhead," laughed captain stewart, pulling a lock of polly's hair which the frolicsome wind had loosened. "by jove, let's test it. not many girls can do that trick. coxswain, turn over the wheel to this young lady, but stand by in case you're needed." the coxswain looked a little doubtful, but answered: "aye, aye, sir." "oh, ought i?" asked peggy. "get busy, messmate," said captain boynton. the next second the girl was transformed. tossing her big hat aside and giving her hair a quick brush, she laid firm hold upon the wheel and instantly forgot all else. her eyes narrowed to a focus which nothing escaped, and stewart gave a little nod of gratified pride and stepped back a trifle to watch her. captain boynton's face showed his appreciation and polly's was radiant. the old coxswain muttered: "well, well, you get on to the trick of that, lassie. you might have served on a man-o-war." they were now well out in the river and making straight for the railway bridge. peggy alert and absorbed was watching the current as it swirled beneath the arches. "how does the tide set in that middle arch, coxswain?" she asked. "keep well to starboard, miss," he answered. peggy nodded, and gave an impatient little gesture as a lumbering power boat, outward bound seemed inclined to cut across her course. "what ails that blunderbuss? i have the right of way. why doesn't he head inshore?" and she signalled sharply on her siren to the landlubber evidently bent upon running down everything in sight, and wrecking the tub he was navigating. then with a quick motion she flicked over her wheel and rushed by, making as pretty a circle around him as the coxswain himself could have made. "holy smoke, but ye have given him the go-by in better shape than i could myself. whoever taught ye?" "a navy captain down at annapolis," answered peggy, as she shot the launch beneath the bridge. "well, he did the job all right, all right, and i may as well go back and sit down. faith, i thought we were as good as stove in when i handed over the wheel to ye, but i'm thinking i can learn a fancy touch or two myself." "oh, no, don't go. i don't know the river, you know, though i want to do my best just to make daddy proud of me," answered peggy modestly. "well then he should be a-yellin' like them crazy loons yonder on the observation train--that's what he should," nodded the coxswain. neil stewart was not yelling, but he wasn't missing a thing, and presently peggy ran the launch into a clear bit of water near the threemile flag. bringing her around, she issued her orders, her mind too intent upon the business in hand to be conscious that all on the launch had been watching her with absorbing interest. anchors were thrown over fore and aft in order to hold the launch steady against the current, then turning the wheel over to the admiring coxswain, peggy wiped her hands upon her handkerchief and holding out her right one to captain boynton, said: "thank you so much for letting me try. it was perfectly glorious to feel her respond to every touch and thread her way through all that ruck." "thank me? great scott, child, you've done more for the whole outfit than you guess. stewart, my congratulations." poor peggy was overcome, but the boys and polly were alternately running and praising her, every last one of them as proud as possible to call peggy stewart chum. but out yonder the shells were already in the water and the electric spark of excitement had flashed from end to end of that long line of gayly bedecked expectant yachts and launches, as down to them floated the strains of the yale boating song as it is never sung at any other time, and thousands of eager eyes were peering along the course watching for the first glimpse of the dots which would flash by to victory or defeat. chapter xvi the race the shells had now gotten away and were maneuvering to get into a good position at their stake boats, far beyond the sight of the gay company on hoard the frolic, which could only guess how things were progressing by the rocketing cheers all along the line of anxiously waiting spectators. along the course the launches of the committee were darting thither and yonder like water-bugs in their efforts to keep the course clear. presently arose the cries: "they are off! they are off! they are coming! they are coming," and far up the line the puffing of the observation train could be heard with now and again an excited, hysterical tooting of the engine's whistle, as though in the midst of so much excitement it had to give vent to its own. presently two dots were visible, looking little more than huge waterbugs in the perspective, the foreshortening changing the long sixty-foot shells into spidery creatures with spreading legs. the observation train following along the shore presented an animated, vari-colored spectacle, with its long chain of cars filled with beautifully gowned women and girls, and men in all the bravery of summer serges and white flannels. banners were waving and voices cheering, to be caught up and flung back in answering cheers from the craft upon the river. peggy and polly stood as girls so often do in stress of excitement, with arms clasped about each others' waists. the boys stood in characteristic attitudes: durand with his hands upon his hips--lithe and straight as an arrow, but intent upon the onrushing crews; shortie with his arm thrown over wheedles' shoulder subconsciously demonstrating the affection he felt for this chum from whom he would so soon be separated and for how long he could not tell. the friendships formed at the academy are exceptionally firm ones, but with graduation comes a dividing of the ways sometimes for years, sometimes forever. it is a special provision of providence that youth rarely dwells upon this fact, and the feeling is invariably expressed by: "so long! see you later, old man." captain stewart and commander harold were a striking evidence of this fact. they had not met until years had elapsed and the common tie of daughter and niece had re-united their interests. but, another strange feature; they had as much in common today as though their ways had divided only the week before. they now stood watching the approaching crews with powerful glasses, their terse comments enlightening their friends as to what was taking place beyond their unaided range of vision. peggy and polly were fairly dancing up and down in their eagerness. on came the shells growing every second more defined in outline, although from their distance from the frolic their progress seemed slow, only the flashing of the blades in and out of the water indicating that the men were not out for a pleasure pull, and the blue ripples astern telling that sixteen twelve-foot sweeps were pushing that water behind them for all they were worth. thus far harvard was in the lead by half a length, and holding her own as she drew near the three-mile flag, where the frolic swung and tugged at her anchors. but it must be admitted that the sympathies and hopes of all in the frolic centered in the yale shell; a yale coach had drilled and scolded and "cussed" and petted the navy boys to victory only a few weeks before, and ralph, if no one else, felt that all his future rested in the ability of that yale coach "to knock some rowing sense into his block." "daddy neil! daddy neil, yell at them! yell!" screamed peggy, breaking away from polly to run to her father's side and literally shake him, as the crews drew nearer and nearer. "i am yelling, honey. can't you hear me?" "i mean yell something that will make those yale men put--put oh, something into their stroke which will overhaul the red blades." "ginger? you mean ginger? to make 'em pull like the very--ahem. like the very dickens? hi! shortie, whoop up the siren--there are only about a dozen of us here but give it hard. give it for all you're worth when the yale crew crosses our bow. you girls know it and so do the older women, and the crew can make a try at it. now be ready. whoop it up!" shortie sprang into position as cheer-leader pro-tem and if wild gyrations and a deep voice lent inspiration certainly nothing more was needed, for as the shells came rushing on "hoo--oo--oo--oo--oooo! hoo--oo--oo--oo--oooo! hoo--oo--oo--oo--oooo! hoo--oo--oo--oo--oooo! navy! navy! navy! yale! yale! yale!" was wailed out over the water, and as upon many another occasion back yonder on the old severn it had acted as a match to gunpowder to a losing cause with the navy boys, so it now startled the men in the yale boat, for they had many friends in the navy school and had heard that yell too often when they were in the lead in some sport not to know the full significance of it. it meant to the losing people: "get after the other fellows and beat them in spite of all the imps of the lower regions!" the yale men had no time to acknowledge the cheer; all their thoughts and energies must center upon the o-n-e, t-w-o, t-h-r-e-e, f-o-u-r, f-iv-e, etc. of the coxswain and his "stroke! stroke! stroke!" but that yell had done what peggy hoped and secretly prayed it would: the long blades flashed in and out of the water quicker and cleaner, cutting down harvard's lead, until just as they swept by the frolic that discouraging discrepancy was closed and the two shell's noses were even. yale had made a gallant spurt. "up anchor and after them," ordered captain boynton and the crew sprang to obey orders, eagerness to see the finish lending phenomenal speed to their fingers, and the frolic was soon in hot pursuit of the shells, yale now pulling a trifle ahead of her adversary in that last fateful mile. how those eight bare backs swayed back and forth. harvard's beautiful, long, clean sweep was doing pretty work, but that siren yell seemed to have supplied the "ginger" necessary to spur on the yale men. "give 'em another! give 'em another!" shouted captain stewart, as the frolic came abreast of the yale crew, and fairly shaking captain harold in his excitement. "avast there! give way, man! do you want to yank me out of my coat?" he laughed. "i'll yank somebody out of something if those yale boys don't pull a length ahead of those johnny harvards," sputtered neil stewart. "whoop it up fellows--and friends. the four n yell for old yale," bawled shortie in order to make himself heard above the din and pandemonium of screaming sirens and the yelling, and in spite of it all the yale crew heard "n--n--n--n! a--a--a--a! v--v--v--v! y--y--y--y! yale! yale! yale!" and laid their strength to their sweeps. chests were heaving and breath coming in panting gasps, but the coxswain of the yale crew was abreast of number three in the harvard shell, and inch by inch the space was lengthening in favor of the blue-tipped blades. "yale! yale! yale!" yelled the crowd as only such a crowd can yell. then clear water showed between the shells and the four-mile flag fluttered like a blur as the yale crew rushed by it. slower plied the blades, shoulders which had swayed backward and forward in such perfect rhythm drooped, and one or two faces, gray from exhaustion, fell forward upon heaving chests. then the rowing ceased, the long oars trailed over the water, as harvard's crew slid by and came to a standstill. friends flocked to the shells to bring them alongside the floats where, nerve-force coming to the rescue of physical exhaustion, the big fellows managed to scramble to the floats and fairly hug each other as they did an elephantine dance in feet from which some stockings were sagging, and some gone altogether. but who cared whether legs were bare or covered! the frolic came boiling up to the float at a rate calculated to smash things to smithereens if she did not slow down at short order, everybody yelling, everybody shouting like bedlamites. "best ever! best ever! the siren started it and the four n. did the trick!" shouted captain stewart, while all the others cheered and congratulated in chorus. "give 'em again. give 'em again. by jove, i'm going to get up a race of my own and all you fellows will have to come to yell for us," cried captain boynton, and again the navy yell sent a thrill through those weary bodies upon the float. then gathering together all the "sand" left in them they gave the old eli yell for their friends of the navy with more spirit than seemed possible after such a terrific ordeal as they had just undergone. and all those months of training, all that endless grind of hard work, for a test which had lasted but a few minutes, ending in a certain victory for one shell and a certain defeat for the other, since victory surely could not possibly result for both. "see you all at the griswold tonight," called captain boynton, as the launch shoved off and got under way. "sure thing! have our second wind by that time we hope," were the cheery answers. "take the helm again, little skipper," ordered captain boynton. "your daddy is just dying to have you but modesty forbids him to even look a hint of it." "may i really?" asked peggy. "get busy," and peggy laughed delightedly as she took the wheel from the coxswain who handed it over with: "now i'll take a lesson from a man-o-war's lassie." shortie, happy and wheedles had now gone aft to "be luxurious" they said, for wicker chairs there invited relaxation and the ladies were more than comfortable. ralph, durand and jean had gone forward to the wheel to watch the little pilot's work, durand's expressive face full of admiration for this young girl who had grown to be his good comrade. durand was not a "fusser," but he admired peggy stewart more than any girl he had ever known, and the friendship held no element of silly sentimentality. how bonny they both looked, and how strikingly alike. could there, after all, have been any kindred drop of blood in their ancestry? it did not seem possible, yet how could two people look so alike and not have some kinship to account for it? peggy was not conscious of durand's close scrutiny. she was too intent upon taking the frolic back to the griswold's dock without being stove in, for in the homeward rush of the sightseers, there seemed a very good chance of such a disaster. nevertheless, there always seems to be a special providence watching over fools, and to judge by the manner in which some of those launches were being handled, that same providence had all it could handle that afternoon. they had gone about half the distance, and peggy was having all she wanted to do to keep clear of one particularly erratic navigator, her face betokening her contempt for the wooden-headed youth at the helm. the badly handled launch was about thirty feet long, and carrying a heavier load than was entirely safe. she was yawing about erratically, now this way, now that. "well, that gink at the helm is a mess and no mistake," was durand's scornful comment. "what the mischief is he trying to do with that tub anyhow?" "wreck it, ruin a better one, and drown his passengers, i reckon," answered peggy. "and look at that little child. haven't they any better sense than to let her clamber up on that rail?" exclaimed polly, for just as the launch in question was executing some of its wildest stunts, a little girl, probably six years of age, had scrambled up astern and was trying to reach over and dabble her hands in the water. "they must be seven kinds of fools," cried durand. "say, peggy, there's going to be trouble there if they don't watch out." but peggy had already grown wise to the folly--yes, rank heedlessness-on board the other launch. if any one had the guardianship of that child she was certainly not alive to the duty. "i'm going to slow down a trifle and drop a little astern," she said quietly to durand. "don't say a word to any one else but stand by in case that baby falls overboard; they are not taking any more notice of her than if she didn't belong to them. i never knew anything so outrageous. what sort of people can they be, any way?" "fool people," was durand's terse rejoinder and his remark seemed well merited, for the three ladies on board were chatteringly oblivious of the child's peril, and the men were not displaying any greater degree of sense. peggy kept her launch about a hundred feet astern. they had passed the bridge and were nearing the broader reaches of the river where ferry boats were crossing to and fro, and the larger excursion boats which had brought throngs of sightseers to new london were making the navigation of the stream a problem for even more experienced hands, much less the callow youth who was putting up a bluff at steering the "wash tub," as ralph called it. the older people in the frolic were not aware of what was happening up ahead. the race was ended, they had been tinder a pretty high stress of excitement for some time, and were glad to settle down comfortably and leave the homeward trip to peggy and the coxswain who was close at hand. never a thought of disaster entered their minds. then it came like a flash of lightning: there was a child's pathetic cry of terror; a woman's wild, hysterical shriek and shouts of horror from the near-by craft. in an instant durand was out of his white service jacket, his shoes were kicked off and before a wholesome pulse could beat ten he was overside, shouting to peggy as he took the plunge: "follow close!" "i'm after you," was the ringing answer. "heaven save us!" cried captain stewart, springing to his feet, while the others started from their chairs. "trust him. he is all right, daddy. i've seen him do this sort of thing before," called peggy, keeping her head and handling her launch in a manner to bring cheers from the other boats also rushing to the rescue. it was only the work of a moment for durand swimming as he could swim, and the next second he had grasped the child and was making for the frolic, clear-headed enough to doubt the chance of aid being rendered by the people on the launch from which the child had fallen, but absolutely sure of peggy's cooperation, for he had tested it under similar conditions once before when a couple of inexperienced plebes had been capsized from a canoe on the severn, and peggy, who had been out in her sailboat at the time, had sped to their rescue. a boat-hook was promptly held out to the swimmer and he and his burden were both safe on board the frolic a moment later, neither much the worse for their dip, though the child was screaming with terror, answering screams from one of the women in the other launch indicating that she had some claim to the unfortunate one. "she's all right. not a hair harmed. keep cool and we'll come alongside," ordered captain stewart. "not the least harm done in the world." but the woman continued to shriek and rave until mrs. harold said: "i would like to shake her soundly. if she had been paying any attention to the child the accident never could have happened." the dripping baby was transferred to her mother, captain harold had clapped durand on the back and cried: "boy, you're a trump of the first water," and the rest of the party were telling peggy that she was "a brick" and "a first-class sport," and "a darling," according to the vocabulary or sex of the individual, when the second feminine occupant of the launch which had been the cause of all the excitement, electrified every one on the frolic by exclaiming: "why, neil! neil stewart! is it possible after all these years? don't you know me? don't you know katherine? peyton's wife!" for a moment neil stewart looked nonplussed. his only brother had married years before. neil had attended the wedding, meeting the bride then, and only twice afterward, for his brother had died two years after his marriage and neil had never since laid eyes upon peyton's wife. if the truth must be told he had not been eager to, for she was not the type of woman who attracted him in the least. yet here she was before him. by this time the launches had been run up to one of the docks upon the west shore of the thames. naturally, both consolation for the emotional mother of the child as well as introductions were now in order, mrs. harold and captain stewart offering their services. these, however, were declined, but mrs. peyton stewart embraced the opportunity to rhapsodize over "that darling child who had handled the launch with such marvelous skill and been instrumental in saving sweet little clare's life." durand, drying off in the launch, seemed to be quite out of her consideration in the scheme of things, for which durand was duly thankful, for he had taken one of his swift, inexplicable aversions to her. but madam continued to gash over poor peggy until that modest little girl was well-nigh beside herself. "and to think you are right here and i have not been aware of it. oh, i must know that darling child of whose existence i have actually been ignorant. i shall never, never cease to reproach myself." neil stewart did not inquire upon what score, but as soon as it could be done with any semblance of grace, bade his undesirable relative farewell, promising to "give himself the pleasure of calling the following day." "and be sure _i_ shall not lose sight of that darling girl again," mrs. peyton stewart assured him. "i'm betting my hat she won't either," was durand's comment to wheedles, "and i'd also bet there's trouble in store for peggy stewart if that femme once gets her clutches on her. ugh! she's a piece of work. "a rotten, bad piece, i'd call it," answered wheedles under his breath. when mr. and mrs. harold, captain stewart and peggy returned to the launch one might have thought that they, instead of durand, had been plunged overboard. they seemed dazed, and the run across to the griswold dock was less joyous than the earlier portion of the day had been. chapter xvii shadows cast before captain boynton as host entertained the launch party at dinner at the griswold that evening, and later all attended the dance given in honor of the winning crew. many of the yale and harvard men were old friends of the midshipmen, having been to annapolis a number of times either to witness or participate in some form of athletics. so old friendships were renewed, and new ones made, though, in some way peggy and polly felt less at home with the college men than with "our boys," as they both called all from annapolis, notwithstanding the fact that "our boys" were in some instances the seniors of the college men. but the academy life is peculiar in that respect, and tends to extremes. where the collegian from the very beginning of his career is permitted to go and come almost at will, and as a result of that freedom of action attains a liberty which, alack, has been known to degenerate into license, the midshipman must conform to the strictest discipline, his outgoings limited, with the exception of one month out of the twelve, to the environs of a little, undeveloped town, and with every single hour of the twenty-four accounted for. yet, on the other hand he must at once shoulder responsibilities which would make the average collegian think twice before he bound himself to assume them. and the result is an exceptional development: they are boys at heart, but men in their ability to face an issue. ready to frolic, have "a rough house," and set things humming at the slightest provocation, but equal to meet a crisis when one must be met and--with very rare exceptions--gentlemen in word and deed. peggy's and polly's chums during the winter just past had been chosen from the best in the academy, and it was no wonder they drew very sharp, very critical comparisons when brought in touch with other lads. in peggy's case it was all a novelty, though polly had known boys all her life. nevertheless, the ball given at the griswold would have been joy unalloyed but for one fly in the pot of ointment: a most insistent, buzzing fly, too, in the form of mrs. peyton stewart. perhaps while all the world is a-tiptoe in the packed ballroom, or crowding the broad piazzas of the hotel, this will be an opportune moment in which to drop a word regarding mrs. peyton stewart. as lads, neil stewart and his brother had been devotedly attached to each other. peyton was five years neil's junior, and neil fairly adored the bright little lad. naturally, neil had entered the naval academy while peyton was still a small boy at boarding-school. then peyton went to college and at the ripe age of twenty-two, married. had the marriage been a wise one, or one likely to help make a man of the heedless, harum-scarum peyton, his family, and his brother, would probably have accepted the situation with as good a grace as possible. but it was not wise: it was the very essence of folly, for the girl was nearer neil's age than peyton's, and came of a family which could never have had anything in common with peyton stewart's. she was also entirely frivolous, if not actually designing. neil was the only member of his family who attended the wedding, which took place in a small new jersey town, and, as has been stated, had seen his undesirable sister-in-law only twice after her wedding-day. upon one occasion by accident, and upon the last at his brother's death, only two years after the marriage, and had then and there resolved never to see her again if he could possibly help it, for never had one person rubbed another the wrong way as had mrs. peyton rubbed her brother-in-law. naturally, peyton had received his share of his inheritance upon the death of his parents, but neil had inherited severndale, so while madam peyton stewart was not by any means lacking in worldly goods, she had nothing like the income her brother-in-law enjoyed. but she was by no means short-sighted, and like a flash several thoughts had entered her head when chance brought her in touch with him. she had never been of the type which lets a good opportunity slip for lack of prompt action, so in spite of her hostess' rather excited frame of mind as the result of the afternoon's accident, she persuaded her to attend the ball at the griswold that evening. she must have something to divert her thoughts from the horror of that precious child's disaster and miraculous rescue from death, she urged, that same child, as a matter of fact, being as gay and chipper as though a header from the stern of a crowded launch into a more crowded river was a mere daily incident in her life. so there sat madam, gorgeous in white satin and silver, plying her fan and her tongue with equal energy. presently peggy danced by with durand, not a few eyes following the beautiful young girl and handsome boy, and to an individual those who saw them decided that they were brother and sister. this was mrs. stewart's opportunity and she made the most of it: turning to a lady beside her she gurgled: "oh, that darling child. she is my only niece though i have never met her until this very afternoon. isn't she a beauty? think what a sensation she will be sure to create a year or two hence when she comes out. don't you envy me? for, of course, there is no one else to introduce her to society. her mother died years ago." "and the young man with her?" questioned the lady, wondering why the darling niece had not figured more prominently in the aunt's life hitherto. "is he her brother?" "no. he is the hero of the day. the young naval cadet [save the mark!] who so nobly sprang overboard after sweet little clare and saved her under such harrowing circumstances. isn't he simply stunning! have you ever seen a more magnificent figure? i think he is the handsomest thing i've ever laid my eyes upon. and so devoted to dear peggy. and they say he has a fortune in his own right. but, that is a minor consideration; the dear child is an heiress herself. magnificent old home in maryland and, and, oh, all that, don't you know." madam's information concerning her niece's affairs seemed to have grown amazingly since that chance encounter during the afternoon. at that moment the dance came to an end and by evil chance peggy and durand were not ten feet from mrs. stewart. she beckoned to them and, of course, there was nothing to do but respond. they at once walked over to her. "oh, mrs. latimer, let me present my dear niece miss stewart to you, and peggy darling, i must know this young hero. you dear, dear boy, weren't you simply petrified when you saw that darling child plunge overboard? you are a wonder. a perfect wonder of heroism. of course the girls are just raving over you. how could they help it? uniforms, brass buttons, the gallant rescuer and--now turn your head the other way because you are not supposed to hear this--all the gifts and graces of the gods. ah, peggy, i suspect you have rare discrimination even at your age, and well--mr. leroux--you have not made any mistake, i can assure you." perhaps two individuals who have suddenly stepped into a hornet's nest may have some conception of peggy's and durand's sensations. peggy looked absolutely, hopelessly blank at this volley. durand's face was first a thunder-cloud and then became crimson, but not on his own account: durand was no fool to the ways of foolish women; his mortification was for peggy's sake; he loathed the very thought of having her brought in touch with such shallowness, exposed to such vulgarity, and the charm of their rarely frank intercourse invaded by suggestions of silly sentimentality. thus far there had never been a hint, nor the faintest suggestion of it; only the most loyal good fellowship; and his own attitude toward peggy stewart was one of the highest esteem for a fine, well-bred girl and the tenderest sense of protection for her lonely, almost orphaned position. he looked at mrs. peyton stewart with eyes which fairly blazed contempt and she had the grace to color tinder his gaze, boy of barely nineteen that he was. "and you are going to let me know you better, aren't you, dear?" persisted mrs. stewart. "i am coming to see you. do ask father to come and talk with me. there are a thousand questions i must ask him, and innumerable incidents of old times to discuss." "captain stewart is just across the room. i will tell him you are anxious to see him, mrs. stewart, and then i must take you to mrs. harold, peggy, or the other fellows will never find you in this jam," and away fled durand, quick to find a loophole of escape. whether neil stewart appreciated his zeal in serving the family cause is open to speculations, but it served the turn for the moment. neil stewart was obliged to cross the room and talk to his sister-in-law, said sister-inlaw taking the initiative to rise at his approach, place her hand upon his arm, and say: "dear neil, what a delight after all these years. but pray take me outside. it is insufferably oppressive in here and i have so much i wish to say to you." just what "dear neil's" innermost thoughts were need not be conjectured. he escorted the lady from the big ballroom, and durand whisked peggy away to mrs. harold, though he said nothing to the girl--he was raging too fiercely inwardly, and felt sure if he said anything he would say too much. nor was peggy her usual self. she seemed obsessed by a forewarning of evil days ahead. durand handed her over to the partner who was waiting for her, and saw her glide away with him, then slipping into a vacant chair behind mrs. harold, who for the moment happened to be alone, he said: "little mother, have you ever been so rip-snorting mad that you have wanted to smash somebody and cut loose for fair, and felt as if you'd burst if you couldn't?" the words were spoken in a half-laughing tone, but mrs. harold turned to look straight into the dark eyes so near her own. "what has happened, son?" she asked in the quiet voice which always soothed his perturbed spirit. he repeated the conversation just heard, punctuating it with a few terse comments which revealed volumes to mrs. harold. her face was troubled as she said: "i don't like it. i don't like it even a little bit. i'm afraid trouble is ahead for that little girl. oh, if her father could only be with her all the time. outsiders can do so little because their authority is so limited and those who have the authority are either too guileless or debarred by their stations. dr. llewellyn, harrison and mammy are the only ones who have the least right to say one word, and--" mrs. harold ceased and shrugged her shoulders in a manner which might have been copied from durand himself. "yes, i know who you mean. and peggy is one out of a thousand. she and polly too. great scott, there isn't an ounce of nonsense in their heads, and if that old fool--i beg your pardon," cried durand, fussed at his break, but mrs. harold nodded and said: "there are times when it is excusable to call a spade a spade." "well," continued durand, "if that femme starts in to talk such rot to peggy it's going to spoil everything. why, you never heard such confounded foolishness in all your life." "come and walk on the terrace with me, laddie, and cool off both mentally and physically. i know just how you feel and i wish i could see the way to ward off the inevitable--at least that which intuition hints to be inevitable-"and that is?" asked durand anxiously. "child, you have been like a son to me for two years. peggy has grown almost as dear to me as polly. i long to see that rare little girl blossom into a fine woman and she will if wisely guided, but with such a person as her aunt--" "you don't for a moment think she will go and camp down at severndale?" demanded durand, stopping stock-still in consternation at the picture the words conjured up. "i don't know a thing! not one single thing, but i am gifted with an intuition which is positively painful at times," and mrs. harold resumed her walk with a petulant little stamp. nor was her intuition at fault in the present instance. in some respects neil stewart was as guileless and unsuspicious as a child, but madam stewart was far from guileless. she was clever and designing to a degree, and before that conversation upon the griswold piazza, ended she had so cleverly maneuvered that she had been invited to spend the month of september at severndale, and that was all she wanted: once her entering wedge was placed she was sure of her plans. at least she always had been, and she saw no reason to anticipate failure now. but she did not know peggy stewart. she thought she had read at a glance the straightforward, modest little girl, but the real peggy was not to be understood in the brief period of four hours. meanwhile, peggy was blissfully unaware of her impending fate, and had almost dismissed mrs. stewart's very existence from her thoughts. she and polly were dancing away the hours in all the joy of fifteen summers, and rumors of a wonderful plan were afloat for the following day. this was no more nor less than a cutter race between the midshipmen of the olympia and the chicago. for days the two crews had been practising and were only waiting for the big day to come and pass before holding their own contest. the chicago really had the picked men, most of them being the regular crew men, and while pulling in a cutter is a far cry from pulling in a shell, nevertheless, the work of trained men usually counts in the long run, and the boys and the jackies had bet everything they owned, from their best shoes to a month's pay, upon the victory of the chicago's crew. but the olympia boys "were lyin' low, an' playin' sly." they had but one crew man in their cutter, but he was "a jim dandy," being no less than lowell, the stroke oar of the navy crew, and a man who could "put more ginger into a boatload of fellows than any other in the outfit," so his chums averred. durand was on the olympia's crew, and durand's shoulders were worth considerable to any crew. nicholas was on the "old chi," ralph on the olympia, so the forces were about equally divided, and the girls were nearly distracted over the issue, for if they could have had the decision both would have been victorious. the following morning dawned as sparkling and clear as the previous one. "regular harold weather," the boys pronounced it, owing to the fact that rarely had mrs. harold planned a frolic of any sort back yonder in annapolis without the weather clerk smiling upon it. when "colors" came singing across the water at eight o'clock, up went the squadron's bunting in honor of the day, and a pretty picture the ships presented dressed from stem to stern in their gay, varicolored flags. the race would take place at three o'clock in the afternoon but a preliminary pull over the course was in order for the morning, and captain boynton of the olympia and captain star of the chicago were as eager to have all conditions favorable, and the lads "fit to a finish," as though their ages, like those of the contestants were within the first score of life's journey. so their launches were ordered out to watch that morning practice and they ran and jeered each other like a couple of schoolboys out for a lark, and that attitude did more to put spirit in the boys, to establish good feeling and the determination to "put up a showing for the old chi" or "that fighting machine of the old man's," the "old man" being their term of affection for admiral dewey, than all the "cussing out" in the english vocabulary could have done. chapter xviii you've spoiled their tea party so absolutely confident of winning were the people, officers, midshipmen and crew on board the chicago that they had made all their plans for the elaborate tea and dance to be given on board the ship of the winning crew. boatloads of jackies had been sent ashore for evergreens, and a force of men had been put to work decorating the quarter-deck, the wardroom and the steerage until the ship presented a wonderful picture. the dance was to be held on the quarter-deck of the ship of the victorious crew immediately after the race, so the preparations were elaborate and hopes more than sanguine. already the chicago's officers mentally pictured the gay gathering upon her tastefully decorated decks; saw the handsomely gowned chaperones and the daintily clad girls in all the bravery of summer gowns dancing to the strains of the ship's band. oh, it was the prettiest mental vision imaginable! and on the old olympia? that stately veteran of manila bay upon whose bridge his loyal, devoted admirers had outlined in brass-headed nails the very spot where commodore dewey's feet had rested as he spoke the memorable words: "when you are ready you may fire, gridley." and the olympia's personnel? the admiral of the fleet, the captain and the officers straight down to the very stokers? well, they had an idea of what the olympia's men were worth when it came to the scratch and a few things were privately moving forward which might have made the chicago's personnel sit up and take notice had they found time to do so. there were no evergreens brought over the side, it is true, but launches had been darting to and fro with systematic regularity, and each time they came from new london significant-looking boxes, important junior officers, and odd freight came, too, but no one was the wiser. not only were awnings spread fore and aft, but they were hung in such a way that passing craft, however curious the occupants, could not see what might be taking place on board. but with five bells came a revelation. a steady line of launches put off to the shore, some to the east, some to the west, to return with a gay freight, and as they came up the starboard gangway the festive femininity broke into rapturous exclamations, for on every side were roses! red roses, white roses, pink roses, pale yellow roses, begged, bought or--hush!--from every farmhouse within a radius of five miles, and every nook and corner of the deck was made snug and attractive with bunting, or rug-covered--well, if not chairs, improvised seats which served the purpose equally well and from which "the get-away" could be clearly seen, the course being a triangular one, starting on the port side of the olympia and ending on the starboard bow. the chicago, with all her bravery, lacked the position held by the olympia. captain stewart's party were the guests of the olympia and had come aboard early. peggy and polly were wild with excitement. at least polly was; peggy took her pleasures with less demonstration. the cutter crews were already in their boats and ready to pull out to the starter's launch which bobbed gaily within easy range of the quarter-deck. peggy and polly hung over the rail calling cheery farewells to durand and lowell and telling the others that they would never forgive them if they did not win the trophy. "win! win! fill up that tin cup right now and have it ready to hand over when we come back the proud victors of the day, for we'll be thirsty and you can just bet we're going to come back in that fascinating guise-winners, we mean. what? let those lobsters from the 'chi' beat us out? not on your life! you just watch us play with them, and pull all around them," shouted lowell as the cutter shoved off at the coxswain's word. meanwhile the chicago's cutter had taken. her berth and was ready for the send-off from the committee's launch. now a cutter race is no holiday pastime but a long pull and a strong pull from start to finish, for a cutter weighs something over and above a racing shell, to say nothing of her lines being designed for service in stress rather than for a holiday fete. add to the weight of the boat herself her freight of twelve men, and all pretty husky fellows, and you've got some pulling ahead in order to push that boat through a given distance of water. if all the civil world had been on the alert during the previous day's contest, certainly all the little navy world assembled at new london was on the alert that afternoon. the decks of the chicago and olympia were crowded with friends. the ships' launches were darting about like distracted water-bugs, and innumerable "shore boats" were bringing guests from every direction. presently, however, the course was cleared, the signals given and the heavy oars took the water as only "man-o-war's men's" oars ever take it: as though one brain controlled the actions of the entire crew. the start was pretty even, the huge sweeps dipping into the water simultaneously and cleanly. then the chicago's men began to pull slowly away from the olympia's, the coxswain right at the outset hitting up the stroke faster than the olympia's coxswain considered good judgment so early in the race, for that triangle had three sides, as is the rule of triangles, and each side presented a pretty good distance. but the people on the chicago were cheering and yelling like bedlamites, pleased to the very limit to see their men putting up such a showing, and confident of their ability to hold it to the finish. they did not pause to reason that they had begun at a stroke which meant just a degree more endurance than most men are equal to, but they were sanguine that their ship was to hold a function in their honor. just astern the chicago's boat the olympia's coxswain was keeping up his steady "stroke! stroke! stroke! stroke!" which sent the boat boiling through the water as though propelled by a gasoline engine. the olympia's men were holding their own if not breaking a record. "hold her steady. keep the stroke. we won't try to set the thames afire --not yet," were the coach's significant words from his launch. lowell nodded quick understanding but kept his steady weight against the oar which was setting the stroke for the men behind him, and durand's eyes hardly left the sway and swing of that splendid broad back just in front of him as on they rushed to the first flag-boat, making the turn of the triangle just a length astern of the chicago's men, and amidst the cries of: "hit it up, olympia! overhaul 'em! pull down that lead!" from the launch following, in which several officers were yelling like comanches. "takes better men. you didn't know how to pick 'em," were the taunting cries from the chicago's launch on their starboard beam. "wait till they round the next stake-boat. they're only playing with you now." "playing out? they've got to do better than this to overhaul us. we are rowing some," were the laughing answers. "now we'll play for fair. hit her up to thirty-six," was the order of the olympia's coxswain, and the oars flashed response to the order, the cutter seeming to fly. there was a quick exclamation from the coxswain of the chicago's cutter, a sharp command, and the stroke jumped to thirty-eight which sent the boat boiling forward. another command on the olympia's as the second stake boat was neared and the olympia's crew was holding it at forty, a slip to tell, and the boats rounded the second stake-boat bows even. then came the home stretch; the last telling, racking effort of the twomile triangle. the chicago was still pulling a splendid thirty-eight as they swept by the stake-boat, but once the turn was made oars flashed up to forty-two, for the olympia's nose had forged half a length ahead after that turn. meantime pandemonium had cut loose in the launches as well as on board the ships, and if yelling, hooting, or calls through megaphones could put power into a stroke, certainly no inspiration was wanting. half the last stretch was covered, the lads rowing in splendid form when the chicago's men started in to break the record and their launch went mad as they spurted to forty-six to overhaul their rival's lead. but a forty-six stroke is just a trifle more than can be held in a heavy cutter with twelve, fourteen and sixteen-foot oars weighing many pounds each; it simply could not be held. "give 'em forty-two for a finish, fellows," bawled the olympia's coxswain through his megaphone, literally pro bono publico. and fortytwo did the trick, for forty-six could not be held, and the olympia's cutter swept past the stake-boat a length in the lead, while captain boynton on the bridge beside the admiral of the fleet fairly jumped up and down. alas, and alack for the dance on board the chicago and the tea to be served to her admiring guests! one of the conditions of that tea and dance was victory with a capital v for the hosts. "bring 'em aboard! bring 'em aboard! pass the order," rumbled the admiral. "just as they are!" questioned boynton, not quite sure that he understood aright. "yes! yes! bring 'em aboard!" "what will the ladies say?" gasped boynton. "these rowing togs are rather sketchy." "hang their clothes! get 'em some. pass the word, man. bring them up the starboard gangway. bring 'em up, i say, and get down there to welcome them! they own the ship and everything on board!" boynton lost no time in passing the word and hurrying down to greet the winning crew and it seemed as though the whole personnel of the old olympia had gone stark mad. but to see and hear was to obey and the olympia's lads, clad in raiment conspicuous principally for its limitations, came piling up the sacred starboard gangway to be met by captain boynton who grasped each hand in turn as he shouted: "you're a bunch worth while! you spoiled their tea party! you busted up their dance, confound you, you scamps! you did 'em up in shape and we're the whole show! now go below and get fit to be seen, then come back and let the ladies feed you and make fools of you, for they'll do it all right." and they were fed! they were ready to be. a pull over such a course means an appetite, but whether these level-headed chaps were made fools of is open to question. it was long after dark before that frolic ended, and the ships were a fairy spectacle of electric lights, the band's strains floating across the water as light feet tripped to the inspiring strains of waltz or two-step. that was one of the happiest afternoons and evenings peggy and polly had ever known, and so passed many another, for neil stewart meant that month to be a memorable one for peggy, little guessing how soon a less happy one would dawn for her, or how unwittingly he had laid the train for it. for two weeks there were lawn fetes at navy bungalow, long auto trips through the beautiful surrounding country and the delightfully cosy family gatherings which all so loved. after gail's graduation mrs. howland returned bringing that goldenhaired lassie with her, snap and constance coming too. gail's introduction to the circle was a funny one: captain stewart had been curious to see whether "howland number four would uphold the showing of the family," as he teasingly told polly, and polly who was immensely proud of her pretty sister had brindled and protested that: "gail was the very best looking one of the family." "then she must be going some," he insisted. she was a sunny, bonny sight in spite of a dusty ride down from northampton, and captain stewart was at the steps to help her from the auto which had been sent up to the new london station to meet her. she stepped out after her mother and constance, but before mrs. howland had a chance to present her captain stewart laid a pair of kindly hands upon her shoulders, held her from him a moment, peering at her from under his thick eyebrows in a manner which made a pretty color mantle her cheeks, then said with seeming irrelevance: "no, the howland family doesn't lie, but on the other hand they don't invariably convey the whole truth. you'll pass, little girl. yes, you'll pass, and you don't look a day older than polly and peggy even if you are hiding away a sheepskin somewhere in that suitcase yonder. yes, i'll adopt you as my girl, and by crackey i'm going to seal it," and with that he took the bonny face in both hands and kissed each rosy cheek. poor gail, if the skies had dropped she couldn't have been more nonplussed. she had heard a good deal of the people she was to visit but had never pictured this reception, and for once the girl who had been president of her class and carried off a dozen other honors, was as fussed as a schoolgirl. peggy came to her rescue. running up to her she slipped her arms about her and cried: "don't mind daddy neil. we are all wild to know you and we're just bound to love you. how could we help it? you belong to us now, you know. come with me. you are to have the room right next ours--polly's and mine, i mean--and everything will be perfectly lovely." within three days after gail's arrival happy, wheedles and shortie had to leave for their own homes, as their families were clamoring for some of their society during that brief month's leave before they joined their ships. but fortune favored them in one respect, for happy and wheedles were ordered to the connecticut, the flag-ship of the atlantic fleet, and shortie to snap's ship, the rhode island in the same fleet. so, contrary to the usual order of things where men in the academy have been such chums, their ways would not wholly divide. two weeks later the practice ships weighed anchor for newport, and the party at navy bungalow was broken up. mrs. howland, constance, gail and snap returned to montgentian. captain stewart and captain harold were obliged to rejoin their ships, mrs. harold, with polly and peggy, going on to newport, thence along the coast, following the practice squadron until its return to annapolis the last day of august when all midshipmen go on a month's leave and the academy is deserted. mrs. harold was to spend september with her sister, a pleasure upon which she had long counted. peggy was invited to join her, but alas! captain stewart had rendered that impossible by asking his sister-in-law to pass september at severndale. of this peggy had not learned at once, but was bitterly disappointed when she did, though she strove to conceal it from her father, when, too late, he awakened to what he had done. mrs. stewart had contrived to spend as many hours as possible at navy bungalow, but she had certainly not succeeded in winning the friendship of its inmates, and neil stewart bitterly regretted the impulse which had prompted him to invite her to severndale. when too late he realized that he had fallen into a cleverly planned trap, dragging peggy with him. and what was still worse, that there would be no one at hand to help her out of the situation into which his short-sightedness had involved her. as a last resort he wrote to dr. llewellyn: "i've been seven kinds of a fool. watch out for peggy. she's up against it, i am afraid, and it is all my doing. i'll write you at length later. meanwhile, i'm afraid there'll be ructions." poor dr. llewellyn was hopelessly bewildered by that letter and prepared for almost anything. mrs. harold and polly bade peggy good-bye at new york. jerome and mammy acting as her body-guard upon the homeward journey. it was a hard wrench, and the two girls who had been such close companions for so long felt the separation keenly. "but you know we'll meet in october and have all next winter before us," were polly's optimistic parting words, little guessing how the coming winter would be changed for both her and peggy. it had been arranged that mrs. stewart should arrive at severndale on the fifth of september. peggy reached there on the second and in a halfhearted way went about her preparations for receiving her aunt. nor were mammy and jerome more enthusiastic. they had pretty thoroughly sized up their expected guest while at new london. nevertheless, noblesse oblige was the watchword at severndale. chapter xix back at severndale the first two days of peggy's return to severndale were almost overwhelming for the girl. true, dr. llewellyn met and welcomed her, and strove in his gentle, kindly manner to make the lonely home-coming a little less lonely. it was all so different from what she had anticipated. that he was there to welcome her at all was a mere chance. he had planned a trip north and completed all his arrangements, when an old, and lifelong friend fell desperately ill. deferring his trip for the friend's sake, neil stewart's letter caught him before his departure, and after reading that his own pleasures and wishes were set aside. duty, which had ever been his watchword, held him at severndale. "when questioned by him--circumspectly it is true--peggy's answers conveyed no idea of pending trouble, nor did they alter his charitable view of the world or his fellow beings. "why, filiola, i think it must be the very happiest solution of the situation here: i am getting too old and prosy to make life interesting for you; your father will not be retired for several years yet, so there is little hope of your claiming his companionship; mrs. harold is a most devoted friend, but friendships in the service must so often be broken by the exigencies of the duties; she may be compelled to leave annapolis at almost any time, and if she is, your friend polly will be obliged to leave also. why, little one, it seems to me quite providential that you should have met your aunt in new london and that she will visit you here," and good dr. llewellyn stroked with gentle touch the pretty brown hair resting against his shoulder, and looked smilingly down upon the troubled young face. "yes, compadre, i know you think it will be quite for the best and i'm sure it would if--if--" peggy paused. she hated to say anything uncomplimentary of the person whom the law said she must regard as her aunt. "are you prejudiced, my dear?" there was mild reproof in dr. llewellyn's tone. "i am afraid i am. you see i have been with the 'little mother,' and i do love her so, and polly's mother, too, and oh, compadre, she is lovely. perfectly lovely. if you could only see polly with her. there is something--something in their attitude toward each other which makes me understand just what mamma and i might have been to each other had she lived. i never guessed what it meant until last winter, or felt it as i did up there in new london. daddy neil is dear and precious but mamma and i would have been just what polly and her mother are to each other; i know it." "will it not be possible for you and your aunt to grow very deeply attached to one another? she, i understand, is quite alone in the world, and you should mean a great deal to each other." peggy's slight form shuddered ever so little in his circling arm. that little shudder conveyed more to dr. llewellyn than a volume of words could have done. he knew the sensitive, high-strung girl too well not to comprehend that there must be something in mrs. peyton stewart's personality which grated harshly upon her, and concluded that it would be wiser not to pursue the subject. "go for a spin upon shashai's silky back, and let tzaritza's long leaps carry yon into a world of gladness. nelly has been asking for you and the five-mile ride to her home will put things straighter." "i'll go," answered peggy, and left him to get into her linen riding skirt, for it was still very warm in maryland. from the moment of her return tzaritza had never left peggy's side, and her horses, especially shashai, roy and star had greeted her with every demonstration of affection. she now made her way to the paddock intending to take out her favorite, but when she called him the other two came bounding toward her, nozzling, whinnying, begging for her caresses. "what shall i do with all three of you?" cried peggy. "i can't ride three at once." "you'll be having one grand time to git shet o' the other two whichever one you do take; they've been consoling themselves for your absence by stickin' together as thick as thieves: where one goes, there goes 'tothers," laughed shelby, who had gone down to the paddock with her. "then let them come along if they want to," and peggy joined in the laugh. "you couldn't lose 'em if you tried; first they love you, and then they're so stuck on each other you'd think it was one body with a dozen legs." without another word peggy sprang to shashai's back. then with the clear whistle her pets knew so well, was off down the road. that was a mad, wild gallop but when she came to nelly's home her cheeks were glowing and her eyes shining as of old. "oh, have you seen pepper and salt?" was almost the first question nelly asked. "well, i guess i have, and aren't they wonders? oh, i'm so glad i saw them that day. do you know they are to be entered in the horse-show and the steeple-chase this fall? well, they are. shelby has made them such beauties. but now tell me all about yourself. i'm going to write to polly tonight and she will never forgive me if i don't tell her just everything. you are looking perfectly fine. and how is the knee?" "just as well as its mate. i wouldn't know i had ever been lame. your doctor is a wonder, miss peggy, and he was so kind. he said you told him you had adopted me and he was bound to take extra good care of me because i was your girl now. i didn't know you had told him to attend me until after you had gone away and i can't thank you enough, but father is so worried because he thinks he will never be able to pay such a bill as doctor kendall's ought to be for curing me. but i tell him it will come out all right, just as it always has before, for things are looking up right smart on the farm now. tom and jerry certainly do earn their keep, as mr. shelby said they would, and they are so splendid and big and round and roly-poly, and strong enough to pull up a tree, father says. don't you want to come and see them?" "indeed i do," and following the beaming, healthy girl whose once pale cheeks were now rounded and rosy, peggy walked to the stump lot just beyond the little cottage where she was heartily greeted by jim bolivar, who said: "well, if it ain't a sight fit ter chirker up a dead man ter see ye back again, miss peggy. will you shake hands with me, miss? it's a kind o' dirty and hard hand but it wants ter hold your little one jist a minute ter try ter show ye how much the man it belongs ter thinks of ye." peggy laid her own pretty little hand in jim bolivar's, saying: "i wish i could make you understand how glad i am to shake hands with you, and it always makes me so happy to have people like me. it hurts if they don't, you know." "well, you ain't likely ter be hurt none ter speak of; no, you ain't, little girl, an' that's a fact. god bless ye! and look at nelly. ain't she a clipper? my, things is jist a hummin' on the little old farm now, an' 'fore ye know it we'll be buildin' a piazzy. now come 'long an' see tom and jerry." and so from one to another went the little chatelaine of severndale, welcomed at every turn, cheery, helpful, sunny, beloved yet, oh, so lonely in her young girlhood. and thus passed the first days of peggy's return to severndale. then the eventful one of mrs. stewart's arrival dawned. it was a gloriously sunny one; cool from a shower during the previous night. mrs. stewart would arrive at five in the afternoon. all morning peggy had been busy looking to the preparations for her aunt's reception. harrison had followed out her young mistress' orders to the letter, for somehow of late, harrison had grown to defer more and more to "miss peggy," though secretly, she was not in the least favorably inclined toward the prospective addition to the household: mammy's report had not tended to pre-dispose her in the lady's favor. nevertheless, she was a guest, and a guest at severndale stood for more than a mere word of five letters. peggy ordered the surrey to meet the five p. m. car but chose to ride shashai, and when jess set forth with the perfectly appointed carriage and span, peggy, in her pretty khaki habit fox-trotted beside comet and meteor, tzaritza, as usual, bounding on ahead. they had gone possibly half the distance when a mad clatter of hoofbeats caused her to exclaim: "oh, jess, they have leaped the paddock fence!" "dey sho' has, honey-chile. dey sho' has," chuckled jess. "dat lady what's a-comin' gwine get a 'ception at 'tention what mak' her open her eyes." "oh, but i did not want her to have such a welcome. she will think we are all crazy down here," protested peggy. "well, if she think five thoroughbreds tu'ned out fer ter welcome her stan fer crazy folks she gwine start out wid a mistake. dem hawses gwine mind yo' an' mak' a showin' she ain' gwine see eve'y day of her life lemme tell yo'." but there was no time to discuss the point further, for silver star and roy came bounding up on a dead run, manes and tails waving, and with the maddest demonstrations of joy at having won out in their determination not to be left behind. they rushed to peggy's side, whinnying their "hello! how are you?" to shashai, who answered with quite as much abandon. and then came the transformation: at a word from peggy they fell into stride beside her and finished the journey to the little depot in as orderly a manner as perfectly trained dogs. when they reached it peggy stationed them in line, and slipping from shashai's back ordered tzaritza to "guard." then she stepped upon the platform to meet the incoming car, just as little less than a year before she had stepped upon it to welcome the ones whom during that year she had learned to love so dearly, and who had so completely altered her outlook upon life, and who were destined to change and--yes--save her future, just as surely as the one now momentarily drawing nearer and nearer was destined to bring a crisis into it. the car came buzzing up to the station. there was a flutter of drapery, as a lady with a white french poodle, snapping and snarling at the world at large, and the brakeman in particular, into whose arms it was thrust, descended from the steps. "handle toinette carefully. dear me, you are crushing her, the poor darling. here, porter, take this suitcase," were the commands issued. "i ain't no po'tah," retorted the negro who had been singled out by madam. then he turned and walked off. "insolent creature," was the sharp retort, which might have been followed by other comments had not peggy at that moment advanced to meet her aunt. when the negro saw that the new arrival was a friend of the little lady of severndale his whole attitude changed in a flash. doffing his cap he ran toward her saying: "i looks after it fo' yo', miss peggy." the accent upon the pronoun was significant. "thank you, sam," was the quick, smiling answer. then: "how do you do, aunt katharine? welcome to severndale," and her hand was extended to welcome her relative, for peggy's instincts were rarely at fault. but her aunt was too occupied in receiving toinette into her protecting embrace to see her niece's hand, and peggy did not force the greeting. "will you come to the carriage?" she asked, "i hope you are not very tired from the journey." "on the contrary, i am positively exhausted. i don't see how you can endure those horrid, smelly little cars. we would not consent to ride a mile in them at home. is this your carriage? hold my dog, coachman, while i am getting in," and toinette was thrust into jess' hand which she promptly bit, and very nearly had her small ribs crushed for her indiscretion, her yelp producing a cry from her doting mistress. "be careful, you stupid man. you can't handle that delicate little thing as though she were one of your great horses. now put the suitcase by the driver and leave room here beside me for my niece," were the further commands issued to "sam." sam did as ordered, but when a dime was proffered answered: "keep yo' cash, lady. i done dat job fer ma little quality lady hyer, an' she pays wid somethin' bettah." mrs. stewart was evidently not in her amiable guise, but turning to peggy she strove to force a smile and say: "ignorant creatures, aren't they, dear? but come. i've a thousand questions to ask." "thank you, aunt katharine, but i rode over on my saddle horse, and shall have to ask you to excuse me." not until that moment did mrs. stewart notice the three horses standing like statues just beyond the carriage with the splendid dog lying upon the ground in front of them. peggy crossed the intervening space and with the one word "up," to tzaritza, set her escort in motion. they reached forward long, slim necks to greet her, tzaritza bounding up to rest her forepaws upon her shoulders and nestle her silky head against peggy's face, sure of the solicited caress. then peggy bounded to shashai's back, and the little group, wheeling like a flash, led the way from the depot. "good heavens and earth! it is quite time someone came down here to look after that child. i had no idea she was leading the life of a wild western cowboy," was the exclamation from the rear seat of the surrey, plainly overheard by jess, and, later duly reported. "huh, um," he muttered. the ride to severndale held no charm for madam stewart. she was too intent upon "that child's mad, hoydenish riding. good heavens, if such were ever seen in new york," new york with its automaton figures jigging up and down in the english fashion through central park being her criterion for the world in general. presently beautiful severndale was reached. dr. llewellyn was waiting upon the terrace to greet his ward's aunt, which he did in his stately, courtly manner, but before ten words were spoken he comprehended all neil stewart meant in his letter by the words: "stand by peggy. i've landed her up against it," and as the young girl led her aunt into the house, with mammy, all immaculate dignity following in their wake, he mentally commented: "i fear he has made a grave mistake; a very grave one, but providence ordereth all things and we see darkly. it may be one of the 'wondrous ways.' we must not form our conclusions too hastily. no, not too hastily." and just here we must leave peggy stewart upon the threshold of a new world the entrance to which is certainly not enticing. what the experiences of that month were, and the revelations which came into peggy's life during it; how the perplexing problem was solved and who helped to solve it, must be told in the story of peggy stewart at school. but just now we must leave her doing her best to make "aunt katharine" comfortable; to smooth out some of the kinks already making a snarl of the usually evenly ordered household, for mammy had not changed her opinion one particle, and when harrison went back to her own undisputed realm of the big house she was overheard to remark: "well, neil stewart is a man, so of course, he's bound to do some fool things, but unless i miss my guess, he's played his trump card this time." note: project gutenberg also has an html version of this file which includes the original illustrations. see 22113-h.htm or 22113-h.zip: (http://www.gutenberg.net/dirs/2/2/1/1/22113/22113-h/22113-h.htm) or (http://www.gutenberg.net/dirs/2/2/1/1/22113/22113-h.zip) peggy stewart at school by gabrielle e. jackson author of "peggy stewart at home," "silver heels," "three graces" series, "capt. polly" series, etc. the goldsmith publishing co. new york n. y. made in u.s.a. copyright, 1918 by barse & hopkins contents chapter page i. the barometer falling 1 ii. reconstruction 16 iii. hostilities suspended 32 iv. hostilities resumed 48 v. ructions! 64 vi. a new order of things 81 vii. columbia heights school 97 viii. a riding lesson 114 ix. common sense and horse sense 131 x. tzaritza as disciplinarian 149 xi. behind scenes 167 xii. christmas at severndale 184 xiii. yuletide 202 xiv. at severndale 221 xv. in spring term 239 xvi. a midnight sensation 256 xvii. a send-off with fireworks 274 chapter i the barometer falling the september morning was warmer and more enervating than september mornings in maryland usually are, though the month is generally conceded to be a trying one. even at beautiful severndale where, if at any point along the river, a refreshing breeze could almost always be counted upon, the air seemed heavy and lifeless, as though the intense heat of the summer had taken from it every particle of its revivifying qualities. in the pretty breakfast room the long french windows, giving upon the broad piazza, stood wide open; the leaves upon the great beeches and maples which graced the extensive lawn beyond, hung limp and motionless; the sunlight even at that early hour beat scorchingly upon the dry grass, for there had been little rain during august and the vegetation had suffered severely; every growing thing was coated like a dusty miller. but within doors all looked most inviting. the room was scrupulous; its appointments indicated refined taste and constant care; the breakfast table, laid for two, was dainty and faultless in its appointments; our old friend, jerome, moved about noiselessly, giving last lingering touches, lest any trifle be omitted which might add to the comfort and sense of harmony which seemed so much a part of his young mistress's life. as he straightened a fruit knife here, or set right a fold of the snowy breakfast cloth, he kept up a low-murmured monologue after the manner of his race. very little escaped old jerome's sharp eyes and keen ears, and within the past forty-eight hours they had found plenty to see or hear, for a guest had come to severndale. yes, a most unusual type of guest, too. as a rule severndale's guests brought unalloyed pleasure to its young hostess and her servants, or to her sailor father if he happened to be enjoying one of his rare leaves, for captain stewart had been on sea-duty for many successive years, preferring it to land duty since his wife's death when peggy, his only child, was but six years of age. severndale had held only sad memories for him since that day, nearly ten years ago, in spite of the little girl growing up there, cared for by the old housekeeper and the servants, some of whom had been on the estate as long as neil stewart could remember. but nine years had slipped away since peggy's mother's death, and the little child had changed into a very lovely young girl, with whom the father was in reality just becoming acquainted. he had spent more time with her during the year just passed than he had ever spent in any one of the preceding nine years, and those weeks had held many startling revelations for him. when he left her to resume command of his ship, his mind was in a more or less chaotic state trying to grasp an entirely new order of things, for this time he was leaving behind him a young lady of fifteen who, so it seemed to the perplexed man, had jumped over at least five years as easily as an athlete springs across a hurdle, leaving the little girl upon the other side forever. when neil stewart awakened to this fact he was first dazed, and then overwhelmed by the sense of his obligations overlooked for so long, and, being possessed of a lively sense of duty, he strove to correct the oversight. had he not been in such deadly earnest his efforts to make reparation for what he considered his inexcusable short-sightedness and neglect, would have been funny, for, like most men when confronted by some problem involving femininity, he was utterly at a loss how to set about "his job" as he termed it. as a matter of fact, a kind fate had taken "his job" in hand for him some time before, and was in a fair way to turn out a pretty good one too. but neil stewart made up his mind to boost old lady fate along a little, and his attempts at so doing came pretty near upsetting her equilibrium; she was not inclined to be hustled, and neil stewart was nothing if not a hustler, once he got under way. and so, alack! by one little move he completely changed peggy's future and for a time rendered the present a veritable storm center, as will be seen. but we will let events tell their own story. old jerome moved about the sunny breakfast-room; at least it would have been sunny had not soft-tinted awnings and east-indian screens, shut out the sun's glare and suffused the room in a restful coolness and calm, in marked contrast to the vivid light beyond the windows. jerome himself was refreshing to look upon. the old colored man was quite seventy years of age, but still an erect and dignified major-domo. from his white, wool-fringed old head, to the toes of his white canvas shoes, he was immaculate. no linen could have been more faultlessly laundered than jerome's; no serviette more neatly folded. all was in harmony excepting the old man's face; that was troubled. a perplexed pucker contracted his forehead as he spoke softly to himself. "'taint going to do _no_ how! it sure ain't. she ain't got de right bran', no she ain't, and yo' cyant mate up no common stock wid a tho'oughbred and git any sort of a span. no siree, yo' cyant. my lawd, what done possess massa neil fer ter 'vite her down hyer? _she_ cyant 'struct an' guide _our_ yo'ng mist'ess. sho! she ain' know de very fust _rudimints_ ob de qualities' ways an' doin's. miss peggy could show her mo' in five minutes dan she ever is know in five years. she ain't,--she ain't,--well i ain't jist 'zackly know how i'se gwine speechify it, but she ain't like _we_ all," and jerome wagged his head in deprecation and forced his tongue against his teeth in a sound indicating annoyance and distaste, as he moved his mistress' chair a trifle. just then mammy lucy stuck her white-turbaned head in at the door to ask: "whar dat chile at? ain't she done come in fer her breckfus yit? it's nine o'clock and sis cynthia's a-stewin' an' a steamin' like her own taters." "she say she wait fer her aunt, an' her aunt say she cyant breckfus befo' half-pas' nine, no how," answered jerome. "huh, huh! an' ma chile gotter wait a hull hour pas' her breckfus time jist kase madam fussa-ma-fiddle ain't choose fer ter git up? i bait yo' she git up when she ter home, and i bait yo' she ain't gitting somebody ter dress her, an' wait on her han' an' foot like mandy done been a-doin' sense yistiddy; ner she ain' been keepin' better folks a-waiting fer dey meals. i'se pintedly put out wid de way things is been gwine in dis hyer 'stablishmint fer de past two days, an' 's fur 's _i_ kin see dey ain' gwine mend none neider. no, not fer a considerbul spell lessen we has one grand, hifalutin' tornader. yo' hyar me!" "i sho' does hyar yo' mis' lucy, an' i sho' 'grees wid yo' ter de very top notch. dere's gwine ter be de very dibble--'scuse me please, ma'am, 'scuse me, but ma feelin's done got de better of ma breedin'--ter pay ef things go on as dey've begun since de madam--_an' dat dawg_--invest deyselves 'pon severndale. but yonder comin' our yo'ng mistiss," he concluded as a clear, sweet voice was heard singing just beyond the windows, and quick decisive footsteps came across the broad piazza, and peggy stewart, only daughter and heiress of beautiful "severndale," entered the room. by her side tzaritza, her snowy russian wolfhound, paced with stately mien; a thoroughbred pair indeed. "oh, jerome, i am just starved. that breakfast table is irresistible. mammy, is aunt katherine ready?" "i make haste fer ter inquire, baby," answered the old nurse, hurrying from the room. "i trus' she is," was jerome's comment, adding: "sis cynthia done make de sallylun jist ter de perfection pint, an' she know dat pint too." peggy made no comment upon the implied reproach of her guest's tardiness, but crossing the room to a big chair, whither tzaritza had already preceded her to rub noses with a magnificent white persian cat, she stooped to stroke sultana, who graciously condescended to purr and nestle her beautiful head against peggy's hand. sultana had only been a member of the severndale household since july, mr. harold having sent her to peggy as "a semi-annual birthday gift," he said. she had adapted herself to her new surroundings with unusual promptitude and been adopted by the other four-footed members of the estate as "a friend and equal." the trio formed a picturesque group as they stood there. the dark-haired, dark-eyed young girl of fifteen, with her rich, clear coloring, her cheeks softly tinted from her brisk walk in the morning sunshine was very lovely. she wore a white duck skirt, a soft nainsook blouse open at the throat, the sailor collar knotted with a red silk scarf. her heavy braids were coiled about her shapely head and held in place with large shell pins, soft little locks curling about her forehead. the past year had wrought wonderful changes in peggy stewart. the little girl had vanished forever, giving place to the charming young girl nearing her sixteenth milestone. the contact with the outer world which the past three months had given, when she had made so many new friends and seen so much of the service and social world, had done a great deal towards developing her. always exceptionally well poised and sure of herself, the summer at navy bungalow in new london, at newport, boston, and at other points at which the summer practice squadron had touched, had broadened her outlook, and helped her gauge things from a different and wider viewpoint than severndale or annapolis afforded. though entirely unaware of the fact, peggy had few rivals in the world of young girls. presently a step sounded upon the polished floor of the broad hall and mrs. peyton stewart, peggy's aunt by marriage, stood in the doorway. under one arm she carried her french poodle. stooping she placed it upon the floor with the care which suggested a degree of fragility entirely belied by the bad-tempered little beast's first move, for as peggy advanced with extended hand to greet her aunt, toinette made a wild dash for the persian cat, which onset was met by one dignified slap of the sultana's paw, which left its red imprint upon the poodle's nose and promptly toppled the pampered thing heels-over-head. tzaritza stood watching the entire procedure with dignified surprise, and when the yelping little beast rolled to her feet, she calmly gathered her into her huge jaws and stalking across the room held her up to peggy, as though asking: "what shall i do with this bad-mannered bit of dogdom? turn her over to your discipline, or crush her with one snap of my jaws?" "oh you horrible, savage beast! you great brute! drop her! drop her! drop her instantly! my precious toinette. my darling!" shrieked toinette's doting mistress. "peggy, how _can_ you have such a savage creature near you? she has crushed every bone in my pet's body. go away! go away!" the scorn in tzaritza's eyes was almost human. with a low growl, she dropped the thoroughly cowed poodle at peggy's feet and then turned and stalked from the room, the very picture of scornful dignity. mrs. stewart snatched the poodle to her breast. there was not a scratch upon it save the one inflicted by sultana, and richly deserved, as the tuft of the handsome cat's fur lying upon the floor testified. "i hardly think you will find her injured, aunt katherine. tzaritza never harms any creature smaller than herself unless bidden to. she brought toinette here as much for the little dog's protection as for sultana's." "sultana's! as though she needed protection from _this_ fairy creature. horrible, vicious cat! look at poor toinette's nose." "and at poor sultana's fur," added peggy, pointing to the tuft upon the floor and slightly shrugging her shoulders. "she deserved it for scratching toinette's nose." "i'm afraid the scratch was the second move in the onslaught." "we will not argue the point, but in future keep that great hound outside of the house, and the cat elsewhere than in the dining-room, i beg of you--i can't have toinette's life endangered, or my nerves shocked in this manner again." for a moment peggy looked at her aunt in amazement. keep tzaritza out of the house and relegate the sultana to the servant's quarters? what had become of the lady of smiles and compliments whom she had known at new london, and who had been at such infinite pains to ingratiate herself with neil stewart that she had been invited to spend september at severndale? and, little as peggy suspected it, with the full determination of spending the remainder of her days there could she contrive to do so. madam stewart had blocked out her campaign most completely, only "the best laid plans," etc., and madam had quite forgotten to take mrs. glenn harold, peggy's stanchest champion and ally, into consideration. mrs. harold had been peggy's "guide, philosopher and friend" for one round year, and mrs. harold's niece, polly howland, was peggy's chum and crony. mrs. stewart felt a peculiar sensation pass over her as she met the girl's clear, steady gaze. very much the sensation that one experiences upon looking into a clear pool whose depth it is impossible to guess from merely looking, though one feels instinctively that it is much deeper, and may prove more dangerous than a casual glance would lead one to believe. peggy's reply was: "of course if you wish it, aunt katherine, tzaritza shall not come into the house during your visit here. i do not wish you to be annoyed, but on the contrary, quite happy, and, jerome, please see that sultana is taken to mammy, and ask her to keep her in her quarters while mrs. stewart remains at severndale. are you ready for your breakfast, aunt katherine?" "quite ready," answered mrs. stewart, taking her seat at the table. peggy waited until she had settled herself with the injured poodle in her lap, then took her own seat. jerome had summoned one of the maids and given sultana into her charge, while tzaritza was bidden "guard" upon the piazza. never in all her royal life had tzaritza been elsewhere than upon the rug before the fireplace while her mistress' breakfast was being served, and it seemed as though the splendid wolfhound, with a pedigree unrivalled in the world, stood as the very incarnation of outraged dignity, and a protest against insult. perhaps some vague sense of having overstepped the bounds of good judgment, if not good breeding, was beginning to impress itself upon mrs. peyton stewart. certainly she had not so thoroughly ingratiated herself in the favor of her niece, or her niece's friends during that visit in new london the previous summer, as to feel entirely sure of a cordial welcome at severndale, and to make a false start at the very outset of her carefully formed plans was a far cry from diplomatic, to say the least. during those weeks at new london, when a kind fate had brought her again in touch with her brother-in-law after so many years, mrs. stewart had done a vast deal of thinking and planning. there was beautiful severndale without a mistress excepting peggy, a mere child, who, in madam's estimation, did not count. neil stewart was a widower in the very prime of life and, from all madam had observed, sorely in need of someone to look after him and keep him from making some foolish marriage which might end in--well, in _not_ keeping severndale in the family; "the family" being strongly in evidence in mrs. peyton. her first step had been to secure an invitation to visit there. that done, the next was to remain there indefinitely once she arrived upon the scene. to do this she must make herself not only desirable but indispensable. certainly, the preceding two days had not promised much for the fulfillment of her plan. so being by no means a fool, but on the contrary, a very clever woman in her own peculiar line of cleverness, she at once set about dispelling the cloud which hung over the horizon, congratulating herself that she had had sufficient experience to know how to deal with a girl of peggy's age. so to that end she now smiled sweetly upon her niece and remarked: "i am afraid, dear, i almost lost control of myself. i am so attached to toinette that i am quite overcome if any harm threatens her. you know she has been my inseparable companion in my loneliness, and when one is so utterly desolate as i have been for so many years even the devotion of a dumb animal is valued. i have been very, very lonely since your uncle's death, peggy, dear, and you can hardly understand what a paradise seems opening to me in this month to be spent with you. i know we are going to be everything to each other, and i am sure i can relieve you of a thousand burdens which must be a great tax upon a girl of your years. i do not see _how_ you have carried them so wonderfully, or why you are not old before your time. it has been most unnatural. but now we must change all that. young people were not born to assume heavy responsibilities, whereas older ones accept them as a matter of course. and that's just what _i_ have come way down here to try to do for my sweet niece," ended mrs. stewart smiling with would-be fascinating coyness. the smile would have been somewhat less complacent could she have heard old jerome's comment as he placed upon the pantry shelf the fingerbowls which he had just removed from the table. "yas, yas, dat's it. yo' needn't 'nounce it. we knows pintedly what yo's aimin' ter do, an' may de lawd have mussy 'pon us if yo' _suc_ceeds. but dere's shorely gwine be ructions 'fore yo' does, er my name ain't jerome randolph lee stewart." chapter ii reconstruction "i have to ride into annapolis, this morning, aunt katherine. would you like to drive in?" asked peggy, when the unpleasant breakfast was ended. "i should be delighted to, dear," answered mrs. stewart sweetly, striving to recover lost ground, for she felt that a good bit had been lost. "at what time do you start?" "immediately. i will order the surrey." she left the room, her aunt's eyes following her with a half-mystified, half-baffled expression: was the girl deeper than she had given her credit for being? had she miscalculated the depth of the pool after all? all through the breakfast hour peggy had been a sweet and gracious young hostess, anticipating every want, looking to every detail of the service, ordering with a degree of self-possession which secretly astonished mrs. stewart, who felt that it would have been difficult for her, even with her advantage of years, to have equaled the girl's unassuming self-assurance and dignity, or have rivaled her perfect ability to sit at the head of her father's table. a moment later mrs. stewart went to her room to dress for the drive into town, her breakfast toilet having been a most elaborate silk negligee. twenty minutes later the surrey stood at the door, but, contrary to mrs. stewart's expectations, her niece was not in it: she was mounted upon her beautiful black horse shashai, at whose feet tzaritza lay, her nose between her paws, but her ears a-quiver for the very first note of the low whistle which meant, "full speed ahead." on either side of shashai, a superb bodyguard, stood silver star, polly howland's saddle horse, though he was still quartered at severndale, and roy, the colt that peggy had raised from tiny babyhood, and which had followed her as he would have followed his dam, ever since the accident that had made him an orphan. perhaps the reader of "peggy stewart" will recall mrs. stewart's horror upon being met at the railway station by "the wild west show," as she stigmatized her niece's riding and her horses, for rarely did peggy stewart ride unless accompanied by her two beautiful horses and the wolfhound, and her riding was a source of marvel to more than one, her instructor having been shelby, the veteran horse-trainer, who had been employed at severndale ever since peggy could remember, and whose early days had been spent upon a ranch in the far west where a man had to ride anything which possessed locomotive powers. at the present moment a more appreciative observer would have thrilled at the sight, for rarely is it given to mortal eyes to look upon a prettier picture than peggy stewart and her escort presented at that moment. given as a background a beautiful, carefully preserved estate, which for generations has been the pride of its owners, a superb old mansion of the most perfect colonial type, a sunny september morning, and as the figures upon that background a charming young girl in a white linen riding-skirt, her rich coloring at its best, her eyes shining, her seat in her saddle so perfect that she seemed a part of her mount, and you have something to look upon. to this add three thoroughbred horses and a snowy dog, an old colored servitor, for jerome had come out with a message from harrison, and it is a picture to be appreciated. had the tall woman standing upon the broad piazza been able to do so, many things which happened later might never have happened at all. mrs. stewart was elaborately gowned in a costume better suited for a drive in newport than annapolis, especially annapolis in september. it was a striking creation of pale blue linen and irish point lace, with a large lace hat, heavy with nodding plumes and a voluminous white lace veil floating out about it. she was a handsome woman in a certain conspicuous way, and certainly knew how to purchase her apparel, though, not above criticism in her selection of the toilet for the occasion, as the present instance evinced. she now walked to the piazza steps, and had anyone possessing a sense of humor been a witness of it, the transformation which passed over the lady's face en transit would have well nigh convulsed him, for the smile which had illumined her countenance at the door had gradually faded as she advanced until, when the steps were reached, it had been transformed into a most disapproving frown. to peggy the reason was a mystery, for she had not overheard her aunt's comments upon the occasion of the drive from the railway station three days before. of course jess had, and they had been freely circulated and keenly resented in the servants' quarters, but no whisper of them had been carried to the young mistress. nevertheless, peggy was beginning to discover that a good many of her actions, and also the order of things at severndale, had brought a cloud to her aunt's brow, and a little sigh escaped her lips as she wondered what the latest development would prove. it seemed so easy for things to go amiss nowadays, when heretofore nearly everything had seemed, as a matter of course, to go right. then the self-elected dictator spoke: "peggy, dear, are you not to drive with me?" "thank you, aunt katherine, but i always ride, and i have several errands to do which i can better attend to if i am mounted." "well, it can hardly be necessary for you to have _three_ saddle horses at once. it seems to me unnecessarily conspicuous, and in very bad taste for a young girl to go tearing about the country, and especially into annapolis--the capital city of the state--in the guise of a traveling circus." a slight smile curved peggy's lips as she answered: "annapolis is _not_ new york, aunt katherine. what might be out of place in such a city would be regarded as a matter of course in a little town where everybody knows everybody else, and they all know me, and the severndale horses. nobody ever gives us a thought. why should they? i'm nothing but a girl riding into town on an errand." "you are extremely modest, i must say. is it quite native or well--we'll dismiss the question, but i must ask you to do me the favor of leaving your bodyguard behind today; it may not seem conspicuous for you to play in a wild west show, but i must decline to be an actor. you are growing too old for such mad pranks, and are far too handsome a girl to invite observation." peggy turned crimson. "why, aunt katherine, i never regarded it as a prank in the least. i have ridden this way all my life and no one has ever commented upon it. daddy neil knows of it--he has ridden with me hundreds of times himself--and never said one word against it. and you surely do not think i do it to invite observation? why, there isn't anything to _observe_. i am certainly no better looking than hundreds of other girls; at least, you are the only one who has ever commented upon my personal appearance. but i beg your pardon; you are my guest. i am sorry. bud, please call shelby to take star and roy back; i don't dare trust them to you." the little negro boy who had brought shashai to the doorstep, and who had been staring popeyed during the conversation, dashed away toward the paddock, to rush upon shelby with a wild tale of "dat lady f'om de norf was a-sassin' missie peggy jist scan'lous and orderin' shelby fer to come quick ter holp her." "what you a-talking about, you little fool nigger?" demanded shelby. then gathering that something was amiss with the little mistress whom all upon the estate adored, he hastened to the house, his face somewhat troubled, for hints of the doings up there had penetrated even to his quarters. "shelby, please take star and roy back to the paddock and be sure to fasten them in." "ain't they a-goin' with you, miss peggy?" "not this morning, shelby." the man looked from the girl to the lady now settling herself in the carriage. toinette still stood upon the piazza waiting to be lifted up to her mistress, too fat and too foolish to even go down the steps alone. as shelby stepped toward the horses mrs. stewart waved her hand toward the dog and said to him: "lift toinette into the surrey." shelby paid no more attention to her than he paid to the quarreling jays in the holly trees, and the order was sharply repeated. "oh, are you a-speakin' to me, ma'am?" he then said. "certainly. i wish my dog handed to me." shelby looked at the pampered poodle and then at its mistress. then with a guileless smile remarked: "now you don't sesso? well, when i git back to the paddock with these here horses what can't go 'long with miss peggy, i'll send a little nigger boy up here for ter boost your dog up to you, but _i_ tend _horses_ on this here place." the man's dark skin grew several shades darker owing to the blood which flooded his cheeks, and his eyes narrowed as he looked for one second straight into mrs. stewart's. what possessed the woman to antagonize everyone with whom she came in touch? shelby had never laid eyes upon her until that moment, but that moment had confirmed his dislike conceived from the reports which had come to him. he now went up to the horses. knowing that neither of them had halters on, he had brought two with him and now slipped them over his charges' heads, saying as he did so: "you've got to come 'long back with me and keep company manners, do you know that, you disrepu'ble gad-abouts? you ain't never had no proper eddicatin' an' now it's a-goin' to begin for fa'r. you-all are goin' ter be larnt citified manners hot off the bat. so come 'long back to the paddock an' git your fust lesson." the horses toyed and played with him like a couple of children, but went pacing away beside him, now and again pulling at his sleeve, poking at him with their soft muzzles or mumbling at his cheeks with their velvety lips, a pair of petted, peerless creatures and as beautiful as any god had ever created. now and again they stopped short to neigh a peremptory call, as though asking the reason of this surprising conduct. "are you ready, aunt katherine?" asked peggy. "as soon as jerome takes your hound in charge. i don't care to have toinette driven frantic with fear by the sight of her. she will grow so excited that i shall be unable to hold her." now the past two hours had held a good many annoyances for peggy stewart to whom annoyances had been almost unknown. perhaps they constitute the discipline of life, but thus far peggy stewart had apparently gotten on pretty well without any radical chastening processes. her life had been simply, but well, ordered, and her naturally sunny soul had grown sweet and wholesome in her little world. if correction had been necessary mammy's loving old heart had known how to order it during peggy's babyhood; harrison had carefully watched her childhood, and her young girlhood had been most beautifully developed by her guardian, good dr. llewellyn, who loved her as a grand-daughter. then had come mrs. harold, who had done so much for the young girl. why could it not have gone on? perhaps the ordering of peggy's life had been too smooth to develop the best in her character, so kismet, or whatever it is which shapes the odd happenings of our lives, had stepped in to lay a hurdle or two to test her ability to meet obstacles. since seven-thirty that morning she had met little else in one form or another, and had taken them rather gracefully, all things considered. her breakfast had been delayed an hour; the breakfast itself had been far from the pleasant meal it usually proved; she had been needlessly criticised for her habit of riding with her beloved horses; and now poor tzaritza, after being banished the house, was to be debarred from following her young mistress; something unheard of, since the hound had acted as peggy's protectress ever since she could follow her. the blood flooded into the girl's face, as turning to her aunt she said very quietly, but with a dignity which mrs. stewart dared not encroach upon: "i am very sorry to seem in any way discourteous or disobliging, aunt katherine, but daddy neil and compadre, have always wished tzaritza to accompany me when i ride. i have never felt any fear but they feel differently, as there are, of course, some undesirable characters between severndale and annapolis, and they consider tzaritza a great protection against any possible annoyance. we will ride on ahead, since it is likely to annoy you, but i must go into annapolis this morning. another time i shall drive with you, but i can't ask you to drive where i must ride today. when you see some of the annapolitan streets you will understand why. they have not been re paved since the first pavements were laid generations ago, and you would be most uncomfortable. be careful where you drive, jess. i will meet you at the bank." there was a graceful bow to mrs. stewart, a slight pressure of the knee against shashai, a low whistle to tzaritza and she had whirled and was away like the wind. madam stewart drew a quick breath and compressed her thin lips until they formed barely a line, and during that drive into annapolis did some rapid thinking. evidently she had made another mistake. as peggy rode along the highway which led to annapolis, the usual merry, lilting songs, to which shashai's hoofbeats kept time, were silenced, and the girl rode in deep thought. shashai tossed his head impatiently as though trying to attract her attention, and now and again tzaritza bounded up to her with a deep, questioning bark. peggy smiled a little abstractedly and said: "your missie is doing some hard thinking, my beauties and doesn't feel songful this morning." then after a moment she resumed: "o shashai, what _is_ the matter with everything? am _i_ all wrong, or is aunt katherine different from everybody else? i have never met anyone just like her before, and i feel just exactly as though someone had drawn a file across my teeth, and i dare say that's all wrong too. if the little mother and polly were only here they'd know how to make me see things differently, but i seem to get in wrong at every turn. aunt katherine has been here only two days, but what days they have been! and ten times more to follow before the month ends!" shashai had gradually slowed down until he was walking with his own inimitably dainty step, his hoofs falling upon the leaf-strewn road with the lightness of a deer's. presently they came to a pretty wood-road leading almost at angles to the highway, but peggy was again too occupied to notice that tzaritza had turned into it and that shashai, as a matter of course, had followed her. annapolis could be reached by this less frequented way but it made a wide detour, leading past nelly bolivar's home. as they struck the refreshing coolness of the byway shashai broke into what peggy called his "rocking-chair gait," though she was so much a part of him that she was hardly aware of the more rapid motion. her first clear intimation that her route had changed occurred when a cheerful voice called out: "and she wandered away and away into the land o' dreams, my princess." peggy raised her head quickly and the old light flashed back into her eyes, the old smile curved her lips as she cried: "why, nelly bolivar! how under the sun came i here?" "in the usual way, i reckon, miss peggy. i don't often see you come in any other. but this time you sure enough look as though you had been dreaming," laughed nelly, coming close to shashai, who instantly remembered his manners and neighed his greeting, while tzaritza thrust her head into the girl's arms with the gentlest insinuation. nelly held the big head close, rested her face against it a second, then took shashai's soft muzzle in both hands and planted a kiss just where it was most velvety, saying softly: "i can't imagine you three separated. the picture would not be complete. but what is wrong, miss peggy? you look so sober you make me feel queer," for the smile had gone from the girl's face and nelly was quick to feel the seriousness of her expression. "perhaps i'm cross and cranky, nelly. at any rate i've no business to be here this minute. i started for annapolis, but my wits got wool-gathering, i reckon, and i let shashai turn in here without noticing where he was going. aunt katherine will reach annapolis before i do and--then--" and peggy stopped and wagged her head as though pursuit of the subject would better be dropped. nelly's face clouded. it had not required the two days of mrs. stewart's visit to circulate a good many reports concerning her. indeed both jerome and old mammy had described her at length, and the description had lost nothing upon their african tongues, nor had the experiences of the three months spent up north: madam stewart had figured rather conspicuously in their pictures of the "doin's up yander." had she suspected how accurately the old colored people had gauged her, or how great an influence their gauging was likely to have upon the plans she had so carefully laid, she might have been a little more circumspect in her conduct toward them. but to her they were "just black servants" and she was entirely incapable of weighing their influence in the domestic economy, or of understanding their shrewd judgment as to the best interests of the young girl whom each, in common with all the other old servants upon the estate, loved with a devotion absolutely incomprehensible to most northern-born people. and another potent fact, entirely absent from the characteristics of the northern negro, is the fact that the southern negro servants' "kinnery" instantly adopts and maintains the viewpoint of those "nearest the throne." it is a survival of the old feudal system, unknown in the cosmopolitan north, but which even in this day, so remote from the days of slavery, makes itself very distinctly felt in many parts of the south. and many of the servants upon the severndale estate had been there for three generations. hence peggy was their "chile," and her joys or sorrows, happiness or unhappiness, were theirs, and all their kin's, to be talked over, remedied if possible, but shared if not, or made a part of their own delight in living, as the case might demand. and the ramifications of their kinship were amazing. no wonder the report that "an aunt-in-law ob de yo'ng mistress yonder at severndale, had done come down an' ondertuck fer ter run de hull shebang _an'_ miss peggy inter de bargain, what is never been run by nobody," had circulated throughout the whole community, and met with a resolute, though carefully concealed opposition--subtle, intangible, but sure to prove overwhelming in the end--the undertow, so hidden but so irresistible. all this had stolen from one pair of lips to another and, of course, been related with indignant emphasis to jim bolivar, nelly's father, one of the tenants of severndale's large estate. and he, in turn, had discussed it with nelly, who worshipped the very ground peggy chose to stand upon, for to peggy stewart nelly owed restored health, her home rescued when ruin seemed about to claim everything her father owned, and all the happiness which had come into her lonely life. no wonder she now looked up to the deep brown eyes with her own blue ones troubled and distressed. chapter iii hostilities suspended during her drive into annapolis madam stewart did more deep thinking than it was generally given to her shallow brain to compass. like most of her type, she possessed a certain shrewdness, which closely touched upon cunning when she wished to gain her ends, but she had very little real cleverness, and practically no power of logical deduction. today, however, she had felt antagonism enveloping her as a fog, and would have been not a little surprised to realize that its most potent force lay in peggy's humble servitors rather than in peggy herself. from the old darkey driving her, so deferentially replying to her questions, and at such pains to point out everything of interest along the way, she felt it radiate with almost tangible scorn and hostility, and yet to have saved her life she could not have said: "he is remiss in this or that." they drove into annapolis by the bridge which crosses the severn just above the naval hospital, and from which the whole academy is seen at its best, with the wide sweep of the beautiful chesapeake beyond. jess pointed out everything most carefully. then on they went across college creek bridge, up college avenue, by historic old st. ann's and drew up at the bank to meet peggy. mrs. stewart looked about her in undisguised disappointment and asked: "is _this_ the capital city of the state of maryland? _this_ little town?" jess' mouth hardened. he loved the quaint old town and all its traditions. so did his young mistress. it had always meant home to her, and to many, many generations of her family before her. the old "peggy stewart" house famous in history, though no longer occupied by her own family, still stood, a landmark, in the heart of the town and was pointed to with pride by all. "dis sho' is de capital city ob de state, ma'am. yonder de guv'nor's mansion, jist over dar stan' de co't house, an' yonder de cap'tal an' all de yether 'ministrashum buildin's, an' we'all's powerful proud ob 'em." mrs. stewart smiled a superior smile as she replied: "i have heard that the south is not progressive and is perfectly apathetic to conditions. it _must_ be. heavens! look at these streets! they are perfectly disgusting, and the odor is horrible. i shall be glad to drive home." "de town done been pave all mos' all new," bridled jess. "dis hyar pavement de bes' ob brick. miss peggy done tole me ter be keerful whar i drive yo' at, an' i tecken yo' on de very be's." "and what, may i inquire, is your very worst then? have you no street cleaning department in your illustrious city?" "we suttenly _has_! dey got six men a-sweeping de hull endurin' time." "what an overwhelming force!" and mrs. stewart gave way to mirth. it was fortunate that peggy should have arrived at that opportune moment, for there is no telling what might have occurred: jess's patience was at the snapping-point. but peggy's talk with nelly bolivar had served to restore her mental equilibrium to a certain degree--and her swift ride into annapolis had completed the process. it was a sunny, smiling face which drew up to the surrey and greeted mrs. stewart. peggy had made up her mind that she would not let little things annoy her, and was already reproaching herself for having done so. she had resolved to keep her temper during her aunt's visit if a whole legion of tormenting imps were let loose upon her. three weeks of mrs. stewart's visit passed. upon her part, three weeks of striving to establish a firmer foothold in the home of her brother-in-law; to obtain the place in it she so ardently coveted--that of mistress and absolute dictator. but each day proved to her that she was striving against some vaguely comprehended opposition. it did not lie in peggy, that she had the grace to concede, for peggy had complied with every wish, which she had graciously or otherwise, expressed, except the one debarring tzaritza from following shashai when she rode abroad, and be it said to peggy's credit that she had held to her resolution in spite of endless aggravations, for madam was a past mistress of criticism either spoken or implied. never before in all her sunny young life had peggy been forced to live in such an atmosphere. little by little during those weeks mrs. stewart had pre-empted peggy's position as mistress of the household; a position held by every claim of right, justice and natural development, for peggy had grown into it, and its honors and privileges rested upon her young shoulders by right of inheritance. she had not rushed there, or forced her claim to it, hence had it been gradually given into her hands by old mammy, her nurse, harrison, the trusty housekeeper, and at length, as she had more and more clearly demonstrated her ability to hold it, by dr. llewellyn, her guardian, who regarded it as an essential part of a southern gentlewoman's education. then had come mrs. harold, whose tact and affection seemed to supply just the little touch which the young girl required to round out her life, and fit her to ultimately assume the entire control of her father's home. but all this was entirely beyond mrs. stewart's comprehension. her own early life had been passed in a small new jersey village in very humble surroundings. she had been educated in the little grammar school, going later to an adjoining town for a year at high-school. in her home, domestic help of any sort had been unknown, she and her mother, an earnest, hard-working woman, having performed all the household work. there were no traditions connected with that simple home; it was just an everyday round of commonplace duties, accepted as a matter of course. then mrs. stewart, at that time "pretty kitty snyder," went as a sort of "mother's helper" to a lady residing in elizabeth, whose brother was in a new jersey college. upon one of his visits to his sister he had brought peyton stewart home for a visit: peyton, the happy-go-lucky, irresponsible madcap. kitty snyder's buxom beauty had turned all that was left to be turned of his shallow head and she had become mrs. peyton stewart within a month. the rest has been told elsewhere. for a good many years she had "just lived around" as she expressed it, her income from her husband's share of the very comfortable little fortune left him by his father, being a vast deal more than she had ever dreamed of in her youthful days. she felt very affluent. all things considered, it was quite as well that peyton had quit this earthly scene after two years of married life for "kitty" had rapidly developed extravagant tastes and there were many "scenes." her old associates saw her no more, and later the new ones often wondered why the dashing young widow did not marry again. they did not suspect how often her plans laid to that end had misscarried, for her ambitions were entirely out of proportion to her qualifications. now, however, chance had brought her once more in touch with her husband's family, and she was resolved to make hay while the sun shone. if neil stewart had not been an odd mixture of manly strength and child-like simplicity, exceptional executive ability and credulity, kindliness and quick temper, he would never in the wide world have become responsible for the state of affairs at present turning his old home topsy-turvy, and in a fair way to undo all the good works of others, and certainly make peggy extremely unhappy. but he had "made a confounded mess of the whole job," he decided upon receiving a letter from peggy. perhaps it would be more accurate to say upon reading between the lines, because it was not so much what peggy had _said_ as that which she left unsaid, which puzzled him, and to which puzzle harrison supplied the key in her funny monthly report. never in all the ten years of her stewardship had she failed to send her monthly letter. harrison was a most conscientious old body if somewhat below par in educational advantages. nevertheless, she had filled her position as nurse, maid and housekeeper to peggy's mother for over thirty years, and to peggy for ten more and her idea of duty was "peggy first, martha harrison second." her letter to neil stewart, which he read while his ship was being overhauled in the boston navy yard, set him thinking. it ran: severndale, maryland. september 21, 19- captain neil stewart, u. s. n. respected sir:- as has been my habit these many years, i take my pen in hand to make my monthly report concerning the happenings and the events of the past month. most times there isn't many of either outside the regular accounts which, praises be, ain't never got snarled up none since i've had the handling of them. as to the past three weeks considerable has took place in this quiet, peaceful (most times, at least) home, and i ain't quite sure where i stand at, or am likely to. things seem sort of stirred round. like enough we-all are old-fashioned and considerable sot in our ways and can't rightly get used to new-fangled ones. then, too, we--i speak for everybody--find it kinder hard to take our orders from anybody but miss peggy, who has got the right to give them, which we can't just see that anybody else _has got_. howsoever, some folks seem to think they have, and what i am trying to get at is, _have they_? if i have got to take them from other folks, why, of course i have got to, but it has got to be _you_ that tells me i must. up to the present time i seem to have been pretty capable of running things down here, though i am free to confess i was right glad when mrs. harold come along as she done, to give me a hint or two where miss peggy was concerned, for that child had taken to growing up in a way that was fair taking the breath out of my body, and was a-getting clear beyond _me_ though, praises be, she didn't suspicion the fact. if she had a-done it _my_ time would a-come for sure. but the good lord sent mrs. harold to us long about that time and she was a powerful help and comfort to us all. _he_ don't make no mistakes as a rule and i reckon we would a done well to let well enough alone and not go trying to improve on his plans for us. when we do that the _other one_ is just as likely as not for to take a hand in the job and if he ain't a-kinder stirring round on these premises right this very minute i'm missing my guess and sooner or later there is going to be ructions. cording to the way _we_-all think down here miss peggy's mighty close to the angels, but maybe we are blinded by the light o'love, so to speak. howsoever and nevertheless, we have got along pretty comfortable till _lately_ when we have begun to discover that our educasyons has been terribl neglected and we have all got to be took in hand. _and we are being took powerful strong, let me tell you!_ it is some like a spanish fly blister: it may do good in the end but the means thereto is some harrowing to the flesh and the spirit. i don't suppose there is no hope of your a-visiting your home before the ship is ordered south for the fall target practice, more is the pity. tain't for me to name nothing but i wish to the lord mrs. harold was here. she is a lady--amen. your most humble and obedient housekeeper, martha harrison. the day after this letter was written dr. llewellyn 'phoned to peggy that he would return at the end of the week and if quite agreeable would like to pass a few days at severndale with her, as his own housekeeper had not yet returned from her holiday. peggy was in an ecstasy of joy. to have compadre under her own roof from saturday to monday would be too delightful. brimful of her pleasurable anticipations, and more like the natural, joyous girl of former days than she had been since leaving mrs. harold and polly, she flew to the piazza where her aunt, arrayed in a filmy lingerie gown, reclined in one of the big east india chairs. for a moment she forgot that she did not hold her aunt's sympathies as she held mrs. harold's, and cried: "oh, aunt katherine, compadre will be here on friday evening and will remain until monday! isn't that too good to believe?" "do you mean dr. llewellyn?" asked mrs. stewart, coldly. "yes, aunt katherine, you had no chance to know him before he went away, but you will just love him." "shall i?" asked mrs. stewart with a smile which acted like a wet blanket upon poor peggy. "but why do you call him by that absurd name? why not call him dr. llewellyn?" "call him dr. llewellyn?" echoed peggy. "why, i have never called him anything else since he taught me to call him by that dear name when i was a wee little thing." "and do you expect to cling to childish habits all your days, peggy dear? isn't it about time you began to think about growing up? sit here upon this cushion beside me. i wish to have a serious talk with you and this seems a most opportune moment. i have felt the necessity of it ever since my arrival, but have refrained from speaking because i feared i might be misjudged and do harm rather than good. sit down, dear." mrs. stewart strove to bring into her voice an element of deep interest, affection was beyond her,--and peggy was sufficiently intuitive to feel it. nevertheless, if anything could have appealed to this self-centered woman's affection it ought surely to have been the young girl who obediently dropped upon the big turkish cushion, and clasping her hands upon the broad arm of the chair, looked up into the steely, calculating eyes with a pair so soft, so brown, so trustful yet so perplexed, that an ordinary woman would have gathered her right into her arms and claimed all the richness and loyalty of affection so eager to find an outlet. if it could only have been mrs. harold, or polly's mother, how quick either would have been to comprehend the loving nature of the girl and reap the reward of it. mrs. stewart merely smiled into the wild-rose face in a way which she fondly believed to accentuate her own charms, and tapping the pretty brown hands with her fan, said: "i am growing extremely proud of my lovely niece. she is going to be a great credit to me, and, also, i foresee, a great responsibility." "a responsibility, aunt katherine?" asked peggy, a perplexed pucker upon her forehead. "have i been a responsibility to you since you came here? i am sorry if i have. of course i know my life down here in the old home is quite different from most girls' lives. i didn't realize that until i met mrs. harold and polly and then, later, went up to new london and saw more of other girls and the way they live. but i have been very happy here, aunt katherine, and since i have known mrs. harold and polly a good many things have been made pleasanter for me. i can never repay them for their kindness to me." peggy paused and a wonderfully sweet light filled her eyes, for her love for her absent friends was very true and deep, and speaking of them seemed to bring them back to the familiar surroundings which she knew they had grown to love so well, and where she and polly had passed so many happy hours. mrs. stewart was not noted for her capacity for deep feeling and was more amused than otherwise affected by peggy's earnest speech, classifying it as "a girl's sentimentality." finer qualities were wasted upon that lady. so she now smiled indulgently and said: "of course i can understand your appreciation of what you consider mrs. harold's and her niece's kindness to you, but, have you ever looked upon the other side of the question? have you not done a great deal for them? it seems to me you have quite cancelled any obligation to them. it must have been some advantage to them to have such a lovely place as this to visit at will, and, if i can draw deductions correctly, to practically have the run of. it seems to me there was considerable advantage upon _their_ side of the arrangement. you, naturally, can not see this, but i'll venture to say mrs. harold was not so unsophisticated," and a pat upon peggy's hand playfully emphasized the lady's charitable view. peggy felt bewildered and her hands fell from the arm of the chair to her lap, though her big soft eyes never changed their gaze, which proved somewhat disconcerting to the older woman who had the grace to color slightly. peggy then rallied her forces and answered: "aunt katherine, i am sure neither mrs. harold nor polly ever had the faintest idea of any advantage to themselves in being nice to me. why in this world should they? they have ten times more than _i_ could ever give to them. why think of how extensively mrs. harold has traveled and what hosts of friends she has! and polly too. goodness, they let me see and enjoy a hundred things i never could have seen or enjoyed otherwise." mrs. stewart laughed a low, incredulous laugh, then queried: "and you the daughter of neil stewart and a little navy girl? really, peggy, you are deliciously _ingenue_. well, never mind. it is of more intimate matters i wish to speak, for with each passing day i recognize the importance of a radical reconstruction in your mode of living. that is what i meant when i said i foresaw greater responsibilities ahead. you are no longer a child, peggy, to run wild over the estate, but--well, i must not make you vain. in a year or two at most, you will make your _dã©but_ and someone must provide against that day and be prepared to fill properly the position of chaperone to you. meantime, you must have proper training and as near as i can ascertain you have never had the slightest. but it can not be deferred a moment longer. it is absolutely providential that i, the only relative you have in this world, should have met you as i did, though i can hardly understand how your father overlooked the need so long. perhaps it was from motives of unselfishness, though he must have known that i stood ready to make any sacrifice for my dear dead peyton's brother." just here mrs. peyton's feelings almost overcame her and a delicate handkerchief was pressed to her eyes for a moment. ordinarily tender and sympathetic to the last degree, peggy could not account for her strange indifference to her aunt's distress. she simply sat with hands clasped about her knees and waited for her to resume the conversation. presently madam emerged from her temporary eclipse and said: "forgive me, dear, my feelings quite overcame me for a moment. to resume: i know dear neil would never ask it of me, but i have been thinking very seriously upon the subject and have decided to forget self, and my many interests in new york, and devote my time to you. i shall remain with you and relieve you of all responsibility in this great household, a responsibility out of all proportion to your years. indeed, i can not understand how you have retained one spark of girlish spontaneity under such unnatural conditions. such cares were meant for older, more experienced heads than your pretty one, dear. it will be a joy to me to relieve you of them and i can not begin too soon. we will start at once. i shall write to your father to count upon me for everything and, if he feels so disposed, to place everything in my hands. furthermore, i shall suggest that he send you to a fine school where you will have the finishing your birth and fortune entitle you to. you know absolutely nothing of association, with other girls,--no, please let me finish," as peggy rose to her feet and stood regarding her aunt with undisguised consternation, "i know of a most excellent school in new york, indeed, it is conducted by a very dear friend of mine, where you would meet only girls of the wealthiest families" (mrs. stewart did not add that the majority had little beside their wealth to stand as a bulwark for them; they were the daughters of new york city's newly rich whose ancestry would hardly court inspection) "and even during your school days you would get a taste of new york's social advantages; a thing utterly impossible in this dull--ahem!--this remote place. i shall strongly advise dear neal to consider this. you simply cannot remain buried here. _i shall_, of course, since i feel it my duty to do so, but i can have someone pass the winter with me, and can make frequent trips to washington." mrs. stewart paused for breath. peggy did not speak one word, but with a final dazed look at her aunt, turned and entered the house. chapter iv hostilities resumed as peggy left the piazza her aunt's eyes followed her with an expression which held little promise for the girl's future happiness should it be given into mrs. stewart's keeping. a more calculating, triumphant one, or one more devoid of any vestige of affection for peggy it would have been hard to picture. as her niece disappeared mrs. stewart's lips formed just two words, "little fool," but never had she so utterly miscalculated. she was sadly lacking in a discrimination of values. peggy had chosen one of two evils; that of losing her temper and saying something which would have outraged her conception of the obligations of a hostess, or of getting away by herself without a moment's delay. she felt as though she were strangling, or that some horrible calamity threatened her. hurrying to her own room she flung herself upon her couch and did that which peggy stewart was rarely known to do: buried her head in the cushions and sobbed. not the sobs of a thwarted, peevish girl, but the deeper grief of one who feels hopeless, lonely and wretched. never in her life had she felt like this. what was the meaning of it? those who were older and more experienced, would have answered at once: here is a girl, not yet sixteen years of age, who has led a lonely life upon a great estate, remote from companions of her own age, though adored by the servants who have been upon it as long as she can remember. she has been regarded as their mistress whose word must be law because her mother's was. her education has been conducted along those lines by an old gentleman who believes that the southern gentlewoman must be the absolute head of her home. about this time there enters her little world a woman whose every impulse stands for motherhood at its sweetest and best, and who has helped all that is best and truest in the young girl to develop, guiding her by the beautiful power of affection. all has been peace and harmony, and peggy is rapidly qualifying in ability to assume absolute control in her father's home. then, with scarcely a moment's warning, there is dropped into her home and daily life a person with whom she cannot have anything in common, from whom she intuitively shrinks and cannot trust. under such circumstances the present climax is not surprising. peggy's whole life had in some respects been a contradiction and a cry for a girl's natural heritage--a mother's all-comprehending love. the love that does not wait to be told of the loved one's needs and happiness, but which lives only to foresee what is best for her and to bring it to pass, never mind at what sacrifice to self. peggy had missed _that_ love in her life and not all the other forms combined had compensated. until the previous year she had never felt this; nor could she have put it into words even at the present moment. she only knew that in polly's companionship she had been very, very happy and that she was terribly lonely without her. that in mrs. harold she had found a friend whom she had learned to love devotedly and trust implicitly, and that in the brief time mrs. howland, polly's mother, had been in annapolis and at new london, she had caught a glimpse of a little world before undreamed of; a world peculiarly polly's and her mother's and which no other human being invaded. mrs. howland had just such a little world for each of her daughters and for the son-in-law whom she loved so tenderly. it was a world sacred to the individual who dwelt therein with her. there was a common world in which all met in mutual interests, but she possessed the peculiar power of holding for each of her children their own "inner shrine" which was truly "the holy of holies." although peggy had known and loved mrs. harold longest, there was something in mrs. howland's gentle unobtrusive sweetness, in her hidden strength, which drew peggy as a magnet and for the first time in her life she longed for the one thing denied her: such a love as polly claimed. but it seemed an impossibility, and her nearest approach to it lay in mrs. harold's affection for her. peggy was not ungrateful, but what had befallen the usual order of things? was this aunt, with whom, try as she would, she could not feel anything in common, about to establish herself in the home, every turn and corner of which was so dear to her, and utterly disrupt it? for this peggy felt pretty sure she would do if left a free hand. already she had most of the old servants in a state of ferment, if not open hostility. they plainly regarded her as an interloper, resented her assumption of rule and her interference in the innumerable little details of the household economy. her very evident lack of the qualities which, according to their standards, stood for "de true an' endurin' quality raisin'," made them distrust her. now the "time was certainly out of joint" and poor little peggy began to wonder if she had to complete the quotation. all that has been written had passed like a whirlwind through peggy's harassed brain in much less time than it has taken to put it on paper. it was all a jumble to poor peggy; vague, yet very real; understood yet baffling. the only real evidences of her unhappiness and doubt were the tears and sobs, and these soon called, by some telepathic message of love and a life's devotion, the faithful old nurse who had been the comforter of her childish woes. for days mammy had been "as res'less an' onsettled as a yo'ng tuckey long 'bout thanksgivin' time," as she expressed it, and had found it difficult to settle down to her ordinary routine of work during the preceding two weeks. she prowled about the house and the premises "fer all de 'roun worl' like yo' huntin' speerits," declared aunt cynthia, the cook. "huh!" retorted mammy, "i on'y wisht i could feel dat dey was frien'ly ones, but i has a percolation dat dey's comin' from _below_ stidder _above_." so perhaps this explains why she went up to peggy's room at an hour which she usually spent in her own quarters mending. long before she reached the room she became aware of sounds which acted upon her as a spark to a powder magazine, for mammy's loving old ears lay very close to her heart. with a pious "ma lawd-god-amighty, what done happen?" she flew down the broad hall and, being a privileged character, entered the room without knocking. the next second she was holding peggy in her arms and almost sobbing herself as she besought her to tell "who done hurt ma baby? tell mammy what brecken' yo' heart, honey-chile." for a few moments peggy could not reply, and mammy was upon the point of rushing off for harrison when peggy laid a detaining hand upon her and commanded: "stop, mammy! you must not call harrison or anyone else. there is really nothing the matter. i'm just a silly girl to act like this and i'm thoroughly ashamed of myself." then she wiped her eyes and strove to check a rebellious sob. "quit triflin'! kingdom-come, is yo' think i'se come ter ma dotage? when is i see you a cryin' like dis befo'? not sense yo' was kitin' roun' de lot an' fall down an' crack yo' haid. yo' ain' been de yellin', squallin' kind, an' when yo' begins at dis hyar day an' age fer ter shed tears dar's somethin' pintedly wrong, an' yo' needn' tell me dar ain't. now out wid it." mammy was usually fiercest when she felt most deeply and now she was stirred to the very depth of her soul. "why, mammy, i don't believe i could tell you what i'm crying for if i tried," and peggy smiled as she rested her head upon the shoulder which had never failed her. "well, den, tell me what yo' _ain't_ cryin' fo', kase ef yo' ain't cryin' fer somethin' yo' _want_ yo' shore mus' be a-crying fo' somethin' yo' _don't_ want," was mammy's bewildering argument. "an' i bait yo' i ain't gotter go far fer ter ketch de thing yo' _don'_ want neither," and the old woman looked ready to deal with that same cause once it came within her grasp. peggy straightened up. this order of things would never do. if she acted like a spoiled child simply because someone to whom she had taken an instinctive dislike had come into her home, she would presently have the whole household demoralized. "mammy, listen to me." instinctively the blood of generations of servitude responded to peggy's tone. "i have been terribly rude to a guest. i lost my temper and i'm ashamed of myself." "what did you say to her, baby?" "i didn't say anything, i just acted outrageously." "an' what _she_ been a-sayin' ter yo'?" peggy only colored. mammy nodded her bead significantly. "ain't i _know_ dat! yo' cyant tell _me_ nothin' 'bout de stewart blood. no-siree! i know it from alphy to omegy; backards an' forrards. now we-all kin look out fer trouble ahead. but i'se got dis fer ter say: some fools jist nachelly go a-prancin' an' a-cavortin' inter places whar de angils outen heaven dassent no mo'n peek. if yo' tells me i must keep ma mouf shet, i'se gotter keep it shet, but massa neil is allers a projectin' 'bout ma safety-valve, an' don' yo' tie it down too tight, honey, er somethin' gwine bus' wide open 'fore long. now come 'long an' wash yo' purty face. i ain' like fer ter see no tears-stains on _yo'_ baby. no, i don'. den yo' go git on shashai an' call yo' body-gyard and 'z'ritza an' yo' ride ten good miles fo' yo' come back hyer. by _dat_ time yo' git yo' min' settle down an' yo' stummic ready fo' de lunch wha' sis' cynthia gwine fix fo' yo'. i seen de perjections ob it an' it fair mak' ma mouf run water lak' a dawg's. run 'long, honey," and mammy led the way down the side stairs, and watched peggy as she took a side path to the paddock. as she was in and out of her saddle a dozen times a day she wore a divided skirt more than half the time--another of mrs. stewart's grievances--and upon reaching the paddock her whistle soon brought her pets tearing across it to her. their greeting was warm enough to banish a legion of blue imps, and a joyous little laugh bubbled to her lips as she opened the paddock gate and let the trio file through. then in the old way she sprang upon shashai's back and with a gay laugh cried: "four bells for the harness house." away they swept, as peggy's voice and knees directed shashai, tzaritza, who had joined peggy as she stepped from the side porch, bounding on ahead with joyous barks. peggy called for a bridle, which shelby himself brought, saying as he slipped the light snaffle into shashai's sensitive mouth and the headstall over his ears: "so you've bruck trainin', miss peggy, an' are a-going for a real old-time warm-up? well, i reckon it's about time, an' the best thing you can do, for you look sort o' pinin' an' down-in-the-mouth. light out, little girl, an' come back lookin' like you uster; the purtiest sight god ever created for a man, woman or child ter clap eyes on. take good care of her, shashai, and you too, tzaritza, cause you won't get another like her very soon." shelby's eyes were quick to discern the traces of peggy's little storm, and he was by no means slow in drawing deductions. peggy blushed, but said: "i guess daddy was right when he said i'd better go to school this year. you-all will spoil me if i stay here. good-by, dear old shelby, i love everyone on the place even if they do spoil me," and away she swept, as bonny a little bareback rider as ever sat a horse. meanwhile, up at the house events were shaping with the rapidity of a moving picture show. when peggy left her so abruptly madam stewart sat still for a few moments, pondering her next step. she had arrived at some very definite conclusions and intended carrying them out without loss of time. her first move in that direction led her into the library where she wrote a letter to her brother-in-law. it was while she was thus occupied that mammy had found peggy and sent her for her ride. then mammy sought harrison. ordinarily, mammy would have died before consulting harrison about anything concerning peggy, but here was a common issue, and if mammy did not know that a house divided against itself must fall, she certainly felt the force of that argument. in harrison she found a sympathetic listener, for the old housekeeper had been made to feel mrs. stewart's presence in the house in hundreds of irritating little ways. mammy told of finding peggy in tears, though she could not, of course, tell their cause. but harrison needed no cause: the tears in themselves were all the cause she required to know. their conversation took place in the pantry and at the height of harrison's protest against the new order of things a footfall was heard in the dining-room beyond. thinking it jerome's and quite ready to add one more to their league of defenders of peggy's cause, harrison pushed open the swinging door and stepped into the dining-room with all of her new england-woman's nervous activity. mrs. stewart stood in the room surveying with a critical, calculating eye, every detail of its stately, chaste appointments, for nothing had ever been changed. mrs. stewart looked up as harrison bounced in. "o harrison, you are exactly the person i wished to speak with," she said. "there are to be a few changes made in mr. stewart's domestic arrangements. in future i shall assume control of his home and relieve miss peggy of all responsibility. you may come to me for all orders." she paused, and for the moment harrison was too dumbfounded to reply, while mammy in the pantry, having overheard every word, was noiselessly clapping her old hands together and murmuring: "ma lawd! ma lawd! _now_ i knows de sou'ce ob dat chile's tears." before harrison could recover herself mrs. stewart continued: "dr. llewellyn will be here tomorrow for the weekend, and as i am to be mistress of the household it is more seemly that i preside at the head of the table. tell jerome that i shall sit there in future. and now i wish you to take me through the house that i may know more of its appointments than i have thus far been able to learn." without a word harrison led the way into the hall, and up the beautiful old colonial stairway. peggy's sitting-room and bed-room were situated at the south-east corner of the house overlooking the bay. back of her bath and dressing-rooms were two guest rooms. a broad hall ran the length of the second story and upon the opposite side of it had been mrs. neil stewart's pretty sitting-room, which corresponded with peggy's and her bed-room separated from her husband's by the daintiest of dressing and bath-rooms. neil stewart's "den" was at the rear. beyond were lavatories, linen-room, house-maid's room and every requirement of a well-ordered home. mrs. peyton began by entering peggy's sitting-room, a liberty she had not hitherto taken, but she felt pretty sure peggy was not in the house. at any rate she had made her plunge and did not mean to be diverted from her object now. martha harrison was simply boiling with wrath at the intrusion. "you are a wonderfully capable woman, martha. i see i shall have very light duties," was mrs. peyton's patronizing comment. "_harrison_, if you please, ma'am," emphasized that person. "oh, indeed? as you prefer. now let me see the rooms on the opposite side of the hall." perhaps had mrs. peyton asked harrison to lead her into the little mausoleum, built generations ago in the whispering white pine grove upon the hill back of the house, it could not have been a greater liberty or sacrilege. not so great, possibly. in all the nine years nothing had been changed. they were sacred to the entire household and especially sacred to harrison who had held it her especial privilege to keep them immaculate. in the bed-room the toilet and dressing tables held the same articles mrs. neil had used; her work-table stood in the same sunny window. in the sitting-room the books she loved and had read again and again were in the case, or lying upon the tables where she had left them. it seemed as though she might have stepped from the room barely ten minutes before. there was nothing depressing about it. on the contrary, it impressed upon the observer the near presence of a sweet, cultivated personality. the sitting-room was a shrine for both peggy and her father, and it was his wish that it be kept exactly as he had known and loved it during the ideal hours he had spent in it with wife and child. he and peggy had spent many a precious one there since its radiant, gracious mistress had slept in the pine grove. harrison crossed the hall and opened the door, still mute as an oyster. mrs. stewart swept in, toinette, who had followed her, tearing across the room ahead of her and darting into every nook and corner. at that moment the obnoxious poodle came nearer her doom than she had ever come in all her useless life, for harrison was a-quiver to hurl her through the open window. "what charming rooms," exclaimed madam, trailing languidly from one to the other, touching a book here, some exquisite curio there, the carved ivory toilet articles on the dresser. the morning sunlight, tempered by the green and white awnings at the great bowed-windows filled the tastefully decorated rooms with a restful glow. they were beautiful rooms in every sense of the word. "very charming indeed and very useless apparently. they seem not to have been occupied in months. they are far more desirable than those assigned to me at the north side of the house. the view of the bay is perfect. as i am to be here indefinitely, instead of one month only, you may have my things moved over to this suite, harrison. i shall occupy it in future." "occupy _this_ suite?" harrison almost gasped the words. "certainly. why not? you need not look as though i had ordered you to build a fire in the middle of the floor," and mrs. peyton laughed half scornfully. "excuse me, ma'am, but when _mr. neil_ gives the order to move your things into this suite, i'll move them here. these was his wife's rooms and his orders to me was never to change 'em and i never shall 'till _he_ tells me to. there's some things in this world that can't be tampered with. please call your dog, ma'am; she's scratchin' that couch cover to ribbons." the enemy's guns were silenced for the time being. she picked up her poodle and swept from the room. harrison paused only long enough to close all the doors, lock them and place the keys in her little hand bag. then she departed to her own quarters to give vent to her pent-up wrath. mrs. stewart retired to her own room. the next evening dr. llewellyn arrived and when he took his seat at the table his gentle face was troubled: mrs. peyton had usurped peggy's place at the head. peggy sat opposite to him. she had accepted the situation gracefully, not one word of protest passing her lips and she did her best to entertain her guests. but poor old jerome's soul was so outraged that for the first time in his life he was completely demoralized. only one person in the entire household seemed absolutely and entirely satisfied and that was harrison, and her self-satisfaction so irritated mammy that the good old creature sputtered out: "kingdom come, is yo' gittin' ter de pint when yo' kin see sich gwines-on an' not r'ar right spang up an' _sass_ dat 'oman?" "just wait!" was harrison's cryptic reply. chapter v ructions! jerome had just passed a silver platter to madam stewart, his hands trembling so perceptibly as to provoke from her the words: "have you a chill, jerome?" as she conveyed to her plate some of cynthia's delicately fried chicken. jerome made no answer, but started toward peggy's chair. he never reached it, for at that moment a deep voice boomed in from the hall: "peggy stewart, ahoy!" with the joyous, ringing cry of: "daddy neil! oh, daddy neil!" peggy sprang from the table to fling herself into her father's arms, and to startle him beyond words by bursting into tears. never in all of his going to and fro, however long his absences from his home, had he met with such a reception as this. invariably a smiling peggy had greeted him and the present outbreak struck to the very depth of his soul, and did more in one minute to reveal to him the force of harrison's letter than a dozen complaints. the tears betrayed a nervous tension of which even peggy herself had been entirely unaware, and for peggy to have reached a mental condition where nerves could assert themselves was an indication that chaos was imminent. for a moment she could only sob hysterically, while her father held her close in his arms and said in a tone which she had never yet heard: "why, peggy! my little girl, my little girl, have you needed daddy neil as much as this?" peggy made a gallant rally of her self-control and cried: "oh, daddy, and everybody, please forgive me, but i am so surprised and startled and delighted that i don't know what i'm doing, and i'm so ashamed of myself," and smiling through her tears she strove to draw away from her father that he might greet the others, but he kept her close within his circling left arm, as he extended his hand in response to the effusive greeting of his sister-in-law. with what she hoped would be an apologetic smile for peggy's untoward demonstration, mrs. stewart had risen to welcome him. "we must make allowances for peggy, dear neil. you came so very unexpectedly, you know. i hardly thought my letter would be productive of anything so delightful for us all." "i fear it was not wholly, katherine. i had several others also. how are you, doctor? i see you haven't quite abandoned the ship. well, i'm glad of that; i need my executive officer and my navigator also." at the concluding words mrs. peyton smiled complacently. who but she could fill that office? but captain stewart's next words dissipated that smile as the removal of a lantern slide causes the scene thrown upon the screen to vanish. "yes, indeed, my navigator must get busy. she's had a long leave, but i need her now and she's never failed me in heavy weather. she'll report for duty on the thirtieth, thank the powers which be. hello, jerome! what's rattled you like this? next time i set my course for home i'd better send a wireless, or i'll demoralize the whole personnel," and neil stewart's hearty laugh brought a sympathetic smile to dr. llewellyn's and peggy's lips. and well it might, for in the background the minor characters in the little drama had filled a rã´le all their own. in the doorway stood harrison, bound to witness the outcome of her master-stroke and experiencing no small triumph in it. behind her mammy, with characteristic african emotion, was doing a veritable camp-meeting song of praise, though it was a _voiceless_ song, only her motions indicating that her lips were forming the words, "praise de lawd! praise him!" as she swayed and clasped her hands. but jerome outdid them all: at his first glimpse of the master he was so flustered that he nearly collapsed where he stood, and his platter had a perilous moment. then, crying, "glory be!" he beat a hasty retreat intending to place it upon his serving table, but growing bewildered in his joy, inadvertently set it upon a large claw-foot sofa which stood at the end of the dining-room, where toinette, ever upon the alert, and _not_ banished from the dining-room as poor tzaritza had been, promptly pounced upon the contents, and in the confusion of the ensuing ten minutes laid the foundation for her early demise from apoplexy. "brace up, jerome, i'm too substantial to be a ghost, and nothing short of one should bowl you over like this," were captain stewart's hearty words to the old man as he shook his hand. "asks yo' pardon, massa neil! i sho' does ask yo' pardon fer lettin' mysef git so flustrated, but we-all's so powerful pleased fer ter see yo', an' has been a-wanting yo' so pintedly, that--that--that--but, ma lawd, i--i--i'se cla'r los' ma senses an', an--hi! look yonder at dat cussã©d dawg _an'_ ma fried chicken!" for once in her useless life toinette had created a pleasing diversion. with a justifiable cry of wrath jerome pounced upon her and plucked her from the platter, in which for vantage she had placed her fore feet. flinging her upon the floor, he snatched up his dish and fled to the pantry, neil stewart's roars of laughter following him. toinette rolled over and over and then fled yelping into her mistress' lap to spread further havoc by ruining a delicate silk gown with her gravy-smeared feet. tzaritza, who had followed her master into the room, looked upon the performance with a superior surprise. neil stewart laid a caressing hand upon the beautiful head and said laughingly: "you'd blush for that little snippin-frizzle if you could, wouldn't you, old girl? well, it's up to you to teach her better manners. she's young and flighty. the next time she starts in on any such rampage, just pick her up and carry her out, as any naughty child should be carried. understand?" "woof-woof," answered tzaritza, deep down in her throat. "she's wise all right. after this you can leave that midget of yours in her care, katherine. but now let's get busy. i'm upon the point of famishing. come, peggy, honey; rally your forces and serve your old daddy." peggy turned toward her aunt. not until that moment had her father been aware of the change made at his table. then it came to him in a flash, and mrs. peyton was hardly prepared for the change which overspread his countenance as he asked: "peggy, why have you allowed your aunt to assume the obligations of hostess? have you lost your ability to sit at the head of my table, daughter?" poor peggy! it was well she understood or she would have been nearly heartbroken at the rebuke. mrs. peyton answered for her: "little peggy had far too much upon her young shoulders, dear neil. so i have volunteered to relieve her of some of her duties. i am happy to be able to do so." "indeed, katherine, we are all under deep obligation to you, i am sure, but peggy hardly seems overborne by her burdens, and it is my wish that my daughter shall preside in her mother's place at my table. jerome, mrs. stewart is to be relieved of this obligation after this meal. you are to be quite free of all responsibility during your visit with us, katherine. and now, little girl, let me look at you. july, august, and, let me see, twenty-five days of september since i left you? nearly three months. you manage to do remarkable things in a brief time, little daughter. but i fancy by the time i get back here again they will be more remarkable. great plans are simmering for you; great plans," and her father nodded significantly across at her. peggy was too happy to even ask what they were. she could only smile and nod back again. meanwhile mrs. stewart had used her napkin to scrub off her besmirched poodle's feet and had then surreptitiously thumped her down upon her lap where the table-cloth would conceal her. at captain stewart's concluding words she felt her hopes revive a trifle. she was a fair actress when it served her turn. so now smiling across the table she said: "so you have decided to consider my suggestion, neil?" "in one respect, yes, katherine. i see plainly that things can no longer go on as they have been going. llewellyn concurs in that." he glanced toward the doctor, who nodded gravely. "i do most fully. our halcyon days must end, i fear, as all such days do eventually, and we must meet the more prosaic side of life. let us hope it will assume a pleasing form. i am loth to hand in my resignation as dominie exactus, however," he ended with a smile for peggy. peggy looked puzzled, and glanced inquiringly from one to the other. her father stretched forth a hand and laid it over hers which rested upon the edge of the table: "smooth out the kinks in your forehead, honey. nothing distressing is to happen." "hardly," agreed mrs. stewart. "on the contrary, if your father acts upon my suggestion something very delightful will be the outcome, i am sure. i feel intuitively that you approve of my plan regarding the school, neil." peggy started slightly, and looked at her father. he nodded and smiled reassuringly, then turning toward his sister-in-law, replied: "your letter, katherine, only served to convince me that peggy must now have a broader horizon than severndale, or even annapolis affords. dr. llewellyn and i talked it over when i was home over a year ago, and again last june. when we first discussed it we were about as much at sea as the 'three wise men of gotham' who launched forth in a tub. we needed a better craft and a pilot, and we needed them badly, i tell you, and at that time we hadn't sighted either. then the 'sky pilot' took the job out of our hands and he's got it yet, i reckon. at any rate, indications seem to point that way, for on my way down here he ran me alongside my navigator and it didn't take her long to give me my bearings. she got on board the limited at newark, n. j., and we rode as far as philly together. she had three of her convoys along and they're all to the good, let me tell you." "oh, daddy, did you really meet mrs. harold and polly, and who was with them?" broke in peggy eagerly. "i surely did, little girl; mrs. harold, polly, ralph and durand. she was on her way for a week's visit with some relatives just out of philly--in devon, i believe, a sort of house-party, she's chaperoning--and a whole bunch of the old friends are to be there. well, i got the 'little mother' all to myself from newark to philly and we went a twenty-knot clip, i tell you, for big as i am, i was just bursting to unload my worries upon someone, and that little woman seems born to carry the major portion of all creation's. she gets them, any way, and they don't seem to feaze her a particle. she bobs up serene and smiling after ever comber. but i've yet to see the proposition she wouldn't try to tackle. oh, we talked for fair, let me tell you, and in those two hours she put more ideas into this wooden old block of mine than it's held in as many months. did your ears burn this afternoon, peggy? you are pretty solid in _that_ direction, little girl, and you'll never have a better friend in all your born days, and don't you ever forget _that_ fact. well, the upshot is, that next friday, one week from today, middie's haven will have its tenant back and, meantime, she is to write some letters and lay a train for _your_ welfare, honey. that school plan is an excellent plan, katherine, but not a new york school: new york is too far away from home _and_ mrs. harold. peggy will go to washington this winter. hampton roads is not far from washington and the ---will put in there a number of times this winter. that gives _me_ a chance to visit my girl oftener and also gives peggy a chance to visit mrs. harold, and run out here now and again if she wishes, though the place will be practically closed up for the winter. it was very good of you to offer to remain here but i couldn't possibly accept that sacrifice; for all your interests lie in new york, as you stated in your letter to me. you still have your apartments there, you tell me, and to let you bury yourself down here in this lonely place would be simply outrageous. even peggy has been here too long, without companions." neil stewart paused to take some nuts from the dish which jerome, now recovered and beaming, held for him. mrs. stewart could have screamed with baffled rage, for, now that it was too late, she saw that she had quite overshot the mark, and given her brother-in-law a complete advantage over her designs. "and that hateful, designing cat!" as she stigmatized mrs. harold "had completed her defeat." she had gauged her brother-in-law as "a perfect simpleton where a woman was concerned," and never had she so miscalculated. he _was_ easygoing when at home on leave, or off on one of his outings, as he had been when she met him in new london. why not? when he worked he worked with every particle of energy he possessed, but when he "loafed," as he expressed it, he cast all care to the winds and was like an emancipated school-boy. it was the school-boy side of his nature she had gauged. she knew nothing of neil stewart the naval officer and man; hadn't the very faintest conception of his latent force once it was stirred. and she little guessed how she _had_ stirred it by her letter written the morning she had made peggy so unhappy. it was the one touch needed to bring the climax and it had brought it with a rush which mrs. peyton had little anticipated. what the outcome might have been had neil stewart not met mrs. harold on that train is impossible to surmise further than that he had fully decided to free himself of all connection with peyton's widow. he had always disliked and distrusted her, but now he detested her. peggy's letters had revealed far more than she guessed, though they had not held one intended criticism. she had written just as she had written ever since she promised him when he visited her the previous year, to send "a report of each day, accurate as a ship's log." but she could not write of the daily happenings without giving him a pretty graphic picture of mrs. stewart's gradual usurpation, and harrison had felt no compunction in expressing _her_ views. and so the "best laid plans o' mice and (wo)men" had "gone agley" in a demoralizing manner, and neil stewart had come down to severndale "under full headway," and wasted no time in "laying hold of the helm." that talk upon the train had been what he termed "one real old heart-to-hearty," for mrs. harold had foreseen just such a crisis and felt under no obligation to refrain from speaking her mind where mrs. stewart was concerned. she had seen just such women before. captain stewart had asked her to read the letters sent to him. she nearly had hysterics over harrison's, but peggy's brought tears to her eyes, for she loved the girl very dearly and understood her well. mrs. stewart's letter made her eyes snap and her mouth set firmly, as she said: "captain stewart, you have asked my advice and i shall give it exactly as though peggy were my daughter, for i could hardly love her and polly more dearly if they were my own children. i am under every obligation of affection to peggy but not the slightest to mrs. stewart, and from all i observed in new london she is by no means the woman to have control over a girl like peggy. she is one of the most lovable girls i have ever known, but at the same time has one of the most distinct personalities and the strongest wills. she can be easily guided by combined wisdom and affection, but she would be ruined by association with a calculating, unrefined, or capricious nature, and, pardon my frankness, i consider mrs. peyton stewart all of these. peggy needs association with other girls--that is only natural--and we must secure it at once for her." neil stewart laid her words to heart, and the ensuing week brought to pass some radical changes. on the thirtieth of september the whole brigade of midshipmen came pouring back to annapolis, the academic year beginning on october first. on the thirtieth also came mrs. glenn harold and her niece polly howland, brown, happy and refreshed by their summer's outing, and polly eager to meet her old friends at the academy and her chum peggy. october first falling upon sunday that year the work at the academy would not begin until monday, and, although the midshipmen had to report on september thirtieth, sunday was to a certain extent a holiday for them and on that afternoon a rare treat was planned for some of them by captain stewart. on sunday morning neil stewart, with mrs. stewart and peggy drove into annapolis to attend service at the naval academy chapel where their entrance very nearly demoralized polly howland, no hint of their intention having been given her. they were a little late in arriving and the service had already begun. as polly was rising from her knees after the first prayer peggy was ushered into the pew, and polly, _polly_ under all circumstances, cried impulsively: "oh, lovely!" her voice distinctly audible in the chancel. whether the chaplain felt himself lauded for the manner in which he had read the prayer, or was quick to guess the cause of that unusual response, it is not necessary to decide. certain, however, were two or three distinct snickers from some pews under the gallery, and polly nearly dove under the pew in front of her. there was no chance for the thousand and one topics of vital importance to be even touched upon while the service was in progress, but once the recessional rolled forth peggy's and polly's tongues were loosened and went a-galloping. "oh, daddy has a plan for the afternoon which is the dearest ever," announced peggy, the old light back in her eyes, and the old enthusiasm in her voice. "tell it right off then. captain stewart's plans are the most wonderful ever. i'll never forget new london," cried polly. "why, he wants you and the little mother and durand and ralph and jean and gordon--" "gordon?" echoed polly, a question in her eyes. peggy nodded an emphatic little nod, her lips closing in a half-defiant, half who-dares-dispute-his-judgment little way, then the smile returned to the pretty mouth and she continued, "yes, gordon powers and his room-mate, great, big douglas porter, and durand's new room-mate, bert taylor, he comes from snap's old home, so daddy learned, to come out to severndale this afternoon for a real frolic." she got no further for they had reached the terrace in front of the chapel by that time where greetings were being exchanged between many mutual friends and the two girls, so widely known to all connected with the academy were eagerly welcomed back. meanwhile, out on the main walk the brigade had broken ranks and the midshipmen were hurrying up to greet their friends. captain stewart was a favorite with all, and one of the very few officers who could recall how the world looked to him when _he_ was a midshipman. consequently, he was able to enter into the spirit and viewpoint of the lads and was always greeted with an enthusiasm rare in the intercourse between the midshipmen and the officers. mrs. harold was their "little mother," as she had been for the past five years, and peggy and polly the best and jolliest of companions and chums, their "co-ed cronies," as they called them. mrs. stewart they had met in new london, but there was a very perceptible difference in their greeting to that lady: it was the formal, perfunctory bow and handclasp of the superficially known midshipman; not the hearty, spontaneous one of the boy who has learned to trust and love someone as mrs. harold's boys loved and trusted her. the crowd which had poured out of the chapel was soon dispersed, as everybody had something to call him elsewhere. our group sauntered slowly toward the superintendent's home where captain stewart left them and went in to make his request for the afternoon's frolic. it was promptly granted and orders were given to have a launch placed at his disposal at two-thirty p.m. such a treat, when least expected, sent the boys into an ecstatic frame of mind, and when the bugle sounded for dinner formation they rushed away to their places upon old bancroft's terrace as full of enthusiasm as though averaging eight and ten instead of eighteen and twenty years of age. chapter vi a new order of things that sunday afternoon of october first, 19-was vital with portent for the future of most of the people in this little story. it took but a short time to run out to severndale, and once there neil stewart made sure of a free hour or two by ordering up the horses and sending the young people off for a gallop "over the hills and far away." shashai, silver star, pepper and salt for peggy, polly, durand and ralph, who were all experienced riders, and four other horses for douglas, gordon, jean and bert, of whose prowess he knew little. he need not have worried, however, for bert taylor came straight from a south dakota ranch, gordon powers had ridden since early childhood and douglas porter had left behind him in his southern home two hunters which had been the joy of his life. but jean paul nicholas, ralph's little pepper-pot of a room-mate, had never ridden a horse in his life, and the running he would come in for at the hands of his fellow midshipmen if they suspected that fact might have made almost any other lad hesitate before taking his initial spin in the company of experts. not so little jean paul with his broad shoulders, the brace of an admiral and his five-feet-six-inches; a veritable little bantam-cock, and game to the finish. as the happy cavalcade set off, waving merry farewells to the older people gathered upon the piazza, tzaritza bounding on ahead, their route led them past the paddock where shelby and old jess, with several others connected with the estate, stood watching them. shelby as an old hand and privileged character, took off his hat and waved it hilariously, as he called out: "well _that_ is one sight worth while, miss peggy. we've got our _own_ girl back again, praises be!" while old jess echoed his enthusiasm by shouting: "praise de lawd we _has_, an' we got de boss yander, too!" "sure thing, shelby!" answered durand. "he's all right, shelby!" cried ralph. "nicest daddy-neil in the world," was polly's merry reply, then added, "oh, peggy, look at roy! he's crazy to come with us," for roy, the little colt peggy had raised, was now a splendid young creature though still too young to put under the saddle. peggy looked toward the paddock where roy was running to and fro in the most excited manner and neighing loudly to his friends. "let him come, shelby, please," she called, and the foreman opened the gate. roy darted through like a flash, giving way to all manner of mad antics, rushing from one four-footed companion to another, with a playful nip at one, a wild highland-fling-of-a-kick at another, a regular rowdy whinny at another, until he had the whole group infected, but funniest of all, jean paul's mount, the staid, well-conducted old robin adair, whose whole fifteen years upon the estate had been one long testimony to exemplary behavior, promptly set about demonstrating that when the usually well-ordered being does "cut loose" he "cuts loose for fair." jean paul was essentially a sailor-laddie, the direct descendant of many sailor-laddies, and he was "built upon nautical lines," so said ralph. on the summer cruise just ended he had demonstrated his claim to be classed among his sire's confrã¨res, for let the ship pitch and toss as it would, his legs never failed him, his stomach never rebelled and his head remained as steady and clear as the ship's guiding planet. but he found navigating upon land about as difficult as a duck usually finds it, and was about as well qualified to bestride and ride a horse as that waddling bird is. consequently, he had "heaved aboard" his mount with many well concealed misgivings, but up to the present moment none of his friends had even suspected his very limited experience as a horseman, but truth to tell, never before in his life had jean paul's legs crossed anything livelier than one of the gymnasium "side horses." now, however, the cat was about to escape from the bag, for robin adair, flinging decorum and heels behind him, set forth on a mad gallop to overhaul roy, who had elected to set the pace for the others. whinnying, prancing, cavorting, away roy tore in the lead, robin adair hot-foot upon him, jean paul striving manfully to keep his pitching seat, which he felt to out-pitch any deck ever designed by man. in about two minutes the pair were a hundred yards in the lead, jean's cap had sailed airily from his head, and after flaunting into silver star's face, had roosted upon a near-by shrub. jean himself promptly decided that reins were a delusion and a snare (robin's mouth _was_ hard) and let them go to grasp the pommel of his mexican saddle. but even that failed to steady him in that outrageous saddle, nor were stirrups the least use in the world; his feet were designed to stick to a pitching deck, not those senseless things. in a trice both were "sailing free" and--so was jean. as robin's hind legs flew up jean pitched forward to bestride the horse's neck; as he bounded forward jean rose in the air to resume his seat where a horse's crupper usually rests. oh it was one electrifying performance and not a single move of it was lost upon his audience which promptly gave way to hoots and yells of diabolical glee, at least the masculine portion of it did, while polly and peggy, though almost reduced to hysterics at the absurd spectacle, implored them to "stop yelling like comanches and _do_ something." "_aren't_ we doing something? aren't we encouraging him and helping on a good show?" "oh, get onto that hike!" "gee whiz, commodore, if you jibe over like that you'll go by the board." "put your tiller hard a-port." "haul in on your jib-sheet," "lash yourself to the main-mast or you'll drop off astern," were some of the encouraging words of advice which rattled about jean's assailed ears, as the space grew momentarily wider between him and his friends, those same friends wilfully holding in their mounts to revel in "the show." but jean's patience and endurance were both failing. he could have slain robin adair, and he was confident that his spine would presently shoot through the crown of his head. so flinging pride to the four winds, he shouted: "hi, come on here one of you yelling chumps, this craft's steering-gear's out of commission! overhaul her and take her in tow. i'd rather pay a million salvage than navigate her another cable's length." "'don't give up the ship!'" "'never say die!'" "belay, man, belay!" were the words hurled back until peggy crying: "you boys are the very limit!" pressed one knee against shashai's side and said softly: "four bells, shashai." robin adair was no match for shashai. robin was as good a hackney as rider ever bestrode, but shashai was a thoroughbred hunter with an arab strain. ten mighty bounds took him to robin's head and for peggy to swing far out of her saddle, grasp the dangling reins, speak the word of command which all her horses knew, loved and obeyed, took less time than it has taken to write of it. "one bell, shashai. robin, halt! steady!" and jean paul's mount came to a standstill with jean paul sitting upon its haunches, and jean paul's eyes snapping, and jean paul's teeth biting his tongue to keep from uttering words "unbecoming an officer and a gentleman;" for "being overhauled by a girl" after he had "made a confounded fool of himself trying a land-lubber's stunt" was not a rã´le which seemed in any degree an edifying one to him. to her credit be it said, peggy managed to keep a straight face as she turned to look at her disgruntled guest, which was more than could be said of his companions who came crowding upon him, even polly's self-control being taxed beyond the limit. "why didn't you tell me you'd never ridden?" asked peggy, her lips sober but her eyes dancing. "because it would have knocked the whole show on the head," answered jean, yanking himself forward into the saddle which only a moment before had seemed to be in forty places at once. "so you decided to be the whole show yourself instead! you're a dead game sport, commodore. bully for you!" cried durand, slipping from his mount to examine the "rigging of the commodore's craft." "do you want to try it again?" asked polly. "will a fish swim?" answered jean. "do you think i'm going to let this side-wheeler shipwreck me? not on your life, captain. clear out, the whole bunch of you chumps. if i've got to cross the equator i'll have the escort of ladies, not a bunch of rough-necks. beat it! you let a _girl_ overhaul and slow down this cruiser and now you're all ready to come in for a share of the salvage. get out! clear out! beat it! take 'em away, captain, and leave me the admiral. she can give everyone of you the lead by a mile and then overhaul you on the first tack. get out, for i'm going to take a riding lesson and i'm going to pay extra and have a private one." "yes, do go on ahead, and, polly, call roy. he is responsible for robin's capers but he will behave if you take him in charge." "come on, roy--and all other incorrigibles," laughed polly, unsnapping her second rein and slipping it around roy's silky neck. roy loved and obeyed polly almost as readily as peggy, and cavorted off beside her as gay as a grig. "we'll report heavy weather and a disabled ship, messmate," called ralph. "report and hanged. you'll see us enter port all skee and ship-shape, and don't you fool yourself, my cock sure wife (bancroft hall slang for a room-mate), so so-long. now come on, peggy, and put me wise to navigating this craft, for it has me beat to a standstill." "go on, people; we'll follow presently and when we overhaul you you'll be treated to a demonstration of expert horsemanship," called peggy after the laughing, joking group, her own and jean's laughs merriest of all. "now get busy in earnest," she said to the half-piqued lad, whose face wore an expression of "do or die" as he again mounted his steed. "you can just bet your last nickel i'm going to! great scott, do you think i'm going to let _this_ beat me out, or that yelling mob out yonder see me put out of commission? now fire away. show me how to keep my legs clamped and to sit in the saddle instead of on this beast's left ear." as peggy was a skilled teacher and jean an apt pupil the combination worked to perfection, and when in a half-hour's time they joined the main body of the cavalcade, jean had at least learned where a saddle rests and had trained his legs to "clamp" successfully. meanwhile, back on severndale's broad piazza peggy was the subject of a livelier discussion than she would have believed possible, and the upshot of it was a decision which carried neil stewart, mrs. harold, herself, and polly off to washington early the following morning to visit a school of which mrs. harold knew. mrs. stewart was very courteously asked to accompany the party of four, which was to spend three or four days in the capital, but mrs. stewart was distinctly chagrined at her failure to carry successfully to a finish the scheme which she felt she had so carefully thought out. alas, she could not understand that she sorely lacked the most essential qualities for its success--unselfishness, disinterestedness, the finer feeling of the older woman for the younger, and all that goes to make womanhood and maternal instinct what they should be. she felt that her reign at severndale was ended and nothing remained but to make as graceful a retreat as possible. so she declined the invitation, stating that she was very anxious to visit some friends in baltimore and would take this opportunity to do so, going by a later train. neil stewart did not press his invitation. he wanted mrs. harold and the girls to himself for a time and knowing that it would be his last opportunity to see them for many months, resolved to make the most of it. not by word or act had he expressed disapproval of mrs. stewart's rather extraordinary line of conduct since her arrival at severndale, though evidences of it were to be seen at every turn, and both harrison's and mammy's tongues were fairly quivering to describe in detail the experiences of the past month. harrison was wise enough not to criticise, but she lost no opportunity for asking if she were to carry out this, that, or some other order of mrs. stewart's, until poor neil lost his temper and finally rumbled out: "look here, martha harrison, how long have you been at severndale?" "nigh on to twenty years, sir, and full fifteen years with that blessed child's mother before she ever heard tell of this place. i took care of her, as right well you know, long before she was as old as miss peggy." "and have i ever ordered any changes made in her rules?" "none to my knowledge, sir. they was pretty sensible ones and there didn't seem any reason to change them." "well, you're pretty long-headed, and until you _do_ see reason to change 'em let 'em stand and quit pestering _me_. you're the exec. on this ship until i see fit to appoint a new one and when i think of doing that i'll give you due notice." but mammy would have exploded had she not expressed her views. harrison had chosen the moment when captain stewart had gone to his room just before supper that eventful sunday evening, but mammy spoke when she carried up to him the little jug of mulled cider for which severndale was famous and which, when cider was to be had, she had never failed to carry to "her boy," as neil stewart, in spite of his forty-six years, still seemed to old mammy. tapping at the door of his sitting-room, she entered at his "come in." she found him standing before a large silver-framed photograph of peggy's mother. it had been taken shortly before her death and when such a tragic ending to their ideal life had least been dreamed possible. a fancy-dress ball had been given by the young officers stationed at the academy and mrs. stewart had attended it gowned as "marie stuart," wearing a superb black velvet gown and the widely-known "marie stuart coif and ruff" of exquisite point de venice lace. she had never looked lovelier, or more stately in her life, and that night neil stewart was the proudest man on the ballroom floor. then he had insisted upon a famous washington photographer taking this beautiful picture and--well, it was the last ever taken of the wife he adored, for within another month she had dropped asleep forever. good old mammy's eyes were very tender as she looked at her boy, and instead of saying what she had come to say: "ter jist nachelly an' pintedly 'spress her min'," she went close to his side and looking at the lovely face smiling at her, said: "dar weren't never, an' dar ain' never gwine ter be no sich lady as dat a-one, massa neil, lessen it gwine be miss peggy. she favor her ma mo' an' mo' every day she livin', an' i wisht ter gawd her ma was right hyer dis minit fer ter _see_ it, dat i do." "amen! mammy," was captain stewart's reply. "peggy needs more than we can give her just now, no matter how hard we try. the trouble is she seems to have grown up all in a minute apparently while we have been thinking she was a child." neil stewart placed the photograph back upon the top of the bookshelf and sighed. "no, sir, _dat_ ain't it. deed tain't. she been a-growin' up dis long time, but we's been dozin' like, an' ain't had our eyes open wide 'nough. an' now we's all got shook wide awake by _somebody else_." mammy paused significantly. neil stewart frowned. "just as well maybe. but don't light into me. i'm all frazzled out now. harrison's hints are like eight inch shells; dr. llewellyn's like a highly charged electric battery; jerome fires a blunderbuss every ten minutes and even shelby and jess use pop-guns. good lord, are you going to let drive with a gatling? clear out and let me drink my cider in peace, and quit stewing, for i tell you right now the fire-brand which has kept the kettles boiling is going to be removed." "praise de lawd fo' _dat_ blessin' den. it was jist gwine ter make some of dem pots bile over if it had a-kep' on, yo' hyer me? good-night, massa neil, drink yo' cider an' thank de lawd fo' yo' mercies." "good-night, mammy. you're all right even if i do feel like smacking your head off once in a while. used to do it when i was a kid, you know, and can't drop the habit." the following morning the party of four set off for washington, polly sorely divided in her mind regarding her own wishes. to have peggy elsewhere than at severndale was a possibility which had never entered into her calculations. how would it seem to have no severndale to run out to? no peggy to pop into middie's haven? no boon companion to ride, walk, drive, skate with, or lead the old life which they had both so loved? polly did some serious thinking on the way to the big city, and wore such a sober face as they drew near the end of their journey that captain stewart asked, as he tweaked a stray lock which had escaped bonds: "what's going on inside this red pate? you look as solemn as an ostracized owl." "i'm trying to think how it is going to seem without peggy this winter and i don't like the picture even a little bit," and polly wagged the "red pate" dubiously. "better make up your mind to come along with your running-mate. by jove, that's a brain throb, peggy! how about it? can't you persuade this girl of ours to give up the co-ed plan back yonder in annapolis,--she knows all the seamanship and nav. that's good for her already,--and you'll need a room-mate up here at columbia heights school if we settle upon it," and captain stewart looked at polly half longingly, half teasingly. polly had grown very dear to the bluff, sincere man during her companionship with peggy, and had crept into a corner of his heart he had never felt it possible for anyone but peggy herself to fill. somehow, latterly when thinking and planning for peggy's well-being or pleasure, visions of polly's tawny head invariably rose before him, and polly's happy, sunny face was always beside the one he loved best of all. the two young girls had become inseparable in his thoughts as well as in reality. "oh, polly, will you? will you?" begged peggy, instantly fired with the wildest desire to have polly enter the school which it had been decided she should enter if at closer inspection it proved to be all the catalogues, letters and dozens of pamphlets sent to mrs. harold represented it to be. "if i go to the columbia heights school what will ralph say? and all the others, too? they'll say i've backed down on my co-ed plan and will run me half to death. besides, ralph needs me right there to let him know i'm keeping a lookout." "he doesn't need you half as much as this girl of mine needs you. you just let ralph do a little navigating for himself and learn that it's up to him to make good on his own account. he's man enough to; all he needs now is to find it out. will you let him do so by coming down here with peggy?" chapter vii columbia heights school as captain stewart asked the question which ended the last chapter the w. b. & a. electric car came to a standstill in the heart of washington and as he assisted his charges to descend the steps, polly was the last. as she placed her hand in his she looked straight into his kind eyes and said: "i'm just ready to fly all to bits. i love peggy and want to be with her; i love aunt janet and old crabtown and everything connected with it; i've always kept neck-and-neck with ralph in his work and i hate the thought of dropping out of it, but, oh, i do want to be with peggy." "come along out to the school and see what you think of it before you decide one way or the other; then talk it all over with your aunt and you won't go far amiss if you follow _her_ advice, little girl." "i'll do it," answered polly, with an emphatic wag of her head, and peggy who overheard her words nearly pranced with joy. hailing a taxicab captain stewart directed the chauffeur to drive them to an address in the outskirts of the city and away they sped. it was only a short run in that whirring machine over washington's beautiful streets and when the school was reached both peggy and polly exclaimed over the beauty of its situation, for columbia heights school was in the midst of spacious grounds, the buildings were substantial and attractive, giving the impression of ample space, all the fresh air needed by vigorous, rapidly developing bodies, and the sunshine upon which they thrive. beautiful walks and drives led in every direction and not far off lovely stony brook park lay in all the beauty of its golden october glow. mrs. harold and captain stewart were graciously welcomed by its charming principal who promptly led the way to her study, a great room giving upon a broad piazza, where green wicker furniture, potted plants and palms suggesting a tropical garden. when polly's eyes fell upon it she forgot all else, and cried impulsively: "oh, how lovely! can't we go right out there?" and then colored crimson. mrs. vincent smiled as she slipped an arm across polly's shoulder and asked: "are you to be my newest girl? if so, i think we would find something in common." polly raised her big eyes to the sweet, strong face smiling upon her and answered: "i hadn't even thought of coming until an hour ago. it was all planned for peggy, but, oh, dear, if i _only_ could be twins! how am i ever to be a co-ed in annapolis and a pupil here at the same time? yet i want dreadfully to be both, i'm so fond of peggy." "i fear we cannot solve that problem even in columbia heights school, though we try pretty hard to solve a good many knotty ones. suppose i talk it over with the grown-ups and meantime arrange for your entertainment by two or three of the girls. we think they are rather nice girls too," and mrs. vincent pressed an electric button which promptly brought a neat maid to the door. "hilda, ask miss natalie and miss marjorie to step to my study." within a few moments two girls appeared in the doorway, the taller one asking: "did you wish to see us, mother?" introductions followed, whereupon the principal said: "natalie, please take miss stewart and miss howland for a walk through the grounds. it is recreation period and they will like to meet the other girls and see the buildings also, i think. and remember, you are to picture everything in such glowing colors, and be so entertaining that they will think there is no other place in all the land half so lovely, for i have fully decided that we must have sweet p's in our posy bed. we have a rose, a violet, a lily, myrtle, hazel, marguerites,--oh, a whole flower garden already--but thus far no sweet-peas." "we will, mrs. vincent. please come with us," said marjorie cheerily, no trace of self-consciousness or the indefinable restraint so much oftener the rule than the exception between teacher and pupil. mrs. harold had been observing every word and action as it was a part of her nature to observe--yes, intuitively _feel_--every word and action of the young people with whom she came in touch, and the older ones who were likely to bring any influence to bear upon their lives, and this little scene did more to confirm her in the belief that she had not been amiss when she selected columbia heights school for peggy than anything else could have done. next to her husband, her sister and her nieces, peggy was the dearest thing in the world to her, and the past year had shown her what tremendous possibilities the future held for the young girl if wisely shaped for her. the two ensuing hours were pleasant and profitable for all concerned and when they ended and captain stewart and his party re-entered the taxicab to return to their hotel in washington, it was decided that peggy should come to columbia heights school on october fifteenth, but polly's decision was still in abeyance. she wished to have one of her long, quiet talks with her aunt before "shifting her holding ground," she said, and that could only be up in middie's haven, cuddled upon a hassock beside mrs. harold's easy chair, with the logs lazily flickering upon the brass andirons. so the ensuing two days in washington were given over to sightseeing and "a general blow-out," as captain stewart termed it, insisting that he could not have another for months and meant to make this one "an a-1 affair." then back they went to severndale where mrs. stewart, to their surprise, had returned the previous day, having failed to find her friend in baltimore. as she had already overstayed the length of time for which her invitation to severndale had been extended, she had no possible excuse for prolonging it, and deciding that her schemes had met with defeat largely owing to her own impolitic precipitation in forcing the situation, she did not mean to make an ignominious retreat. so, with well assumed suavity she told her brother-in-law that some urgent business matters claimed her attention in new york, and asked if he could complete his arrangements for peggy's departure without her aid, as she really ought to go north without delay. if neil stewart was amused by this sudden change in the lady's tactics, to his credit be it said that he did not betray any sign of it. he thanked her for her kind interest in peggy and his home, for all she had done for them, and left nothing lacking for her comfort upon her homeward journey, even shipping to the apartment in new york enough fruit, game and various other good things from severndale to keep her larder well supplied for weeks, and supplementing all these with a gift which would be the envy of all her friends. but when he returned to severndale after bidding the lady farewell at the station, he breathed one mighty sigh of relief. he had escaped a situation of which the outcome was a good deal more than problematical for everyone concerned, and most vital for peggy. then came busy days of preparation for peggy and polly, for the outcome of that fireside powwow had been a decision in favor of columbia heights school for polly also, for that winter at least, and when the fifteenth dawned bright and frosty, mrs. harold accompanied the girls to washington, captain stewart's leave having meantime expired. but he had gone back to his ship in a very different frame of mind from that in which he had returned to it in july, and with a comforting sense of security in the outcome of his present plans for peggy. the longer he knew mrs. harold the greater became his confidence in her judgment, and she had assured him that peggy should be her charge that winter exactly as polly was. moreover, mrs. harold had persuaded mrs. howland to close her house in montgentian for the winter and come to annapolis, bringing gail with her, for constance had decided to follow the _rhode island_ whenever it was possible for her to do so, and this decision left mrs. howland and gail alone in their home. so to wilmot hall came polly's mother and pretty sister, the former to spend a delightfully restful winter with her sister and the latter to take her first taste of the good times possible for a girl of twenty-one at the naval academy. the first breaking away from severndale was harder for peggy than anyone but mrs. harold guessed. somehow intuition supplied to her what actual words could never have conveyed, even had they been spoken, but peggy, once her resolution had been taken to go away to school, was not a girl to bewail her decision. and now she was a duly registered pupil at columbia heights with polly for her room-mate in number 67, her next-door neighbor natalie vincent, mrs. vincent's daughter, a jolly, honest, happy-go-lucky girl, who looked exactly as her mother must have looked at fifteen. a long line of rooms extended up and down, both sides of the corridor, the end one, no. 70, with its pretty bay-window overlooking the lawn and stony brook beyond, was occupied by stella drummond, a tall, striking brunette of eighteen. to the hundred-fifty girls in columbia heights school this story can only allude in a brief way but of those who figure most prominently in polly's and peggy's new world we'll let polly give the general "sizing-up." these girls were all about the same age, and, excepting stella, juniors, as were peggy and polly, whose previous work under tutors and in high school had qualified them to enter that grade at columbia heights. it was their first night at the school, and "lights-out" bell had rung at ten o'clock, but a glorious october moon flooded the room with a silvery light, almost as bright as day. peggy in one pretty little white bed and polly in the one beside it were carrying on a lively whispered conversation. "well, we're _here_," was polly's undisputable statement as she snuggled down under her bed-covers, "and now that we are what do you think of it?" "i'm glad we've come. it will seem a lot different, and rather queer to do everything by rules and on time, but, after all, we had to do almost everything by rule up home." "yes, but they were nearly always our _own_ rules; yours, anyway. why, peggy, i don't believe there is a girl in this school who ever had things as much her own way as you have had them." "maybe that's the reason i didn't get along with aunt katherine," answered peggy whimsically. "aunt katherine!" polly's whisper suggested italics. "do you know miss sturgis, the math. teacher, makes me think of her a little. miss sturgis is strong-minded, i'll bet a cookie. did you hear what she said when she was giving out our books on sociology--doesn't it seem funny, peggy, for us to take up sociology?--'she hoped we would become good american citizens and realize woman's true position in the world.' somehow i've thought tanta has always had a pretty clear idea of 'woman's position in the world.' at any rate she seems to have plenty to do in her own quiet way and i've an idea that if anyone ever hinted that she ought to go to the polls and vote she'd feel inclined to spell it pole and use it to 'beat 'em up' with, as ralph and the boys would say. oh, dear, how we are going to miss 'the bunch,' peggy." "we certainly are," was peggy's sympathetic reply, and for a moment there was silence in the moonlit room as the girls' thoughts flew back to annapolis. then peggy asked: "what do you think of the girls? you've been to school all your life, but it is all new to me." polly laughed a low, little laugh, then replied: "they are about like most school-girls, i reckon. let's see, which have we had most to do with since we came here twenty-four hours ago? there's rosalie breeze. she's named all right, sure enough, and if she doesn't turn out a hurricane we'll be lucky. we had one just like her up at high. and lily pearl montgomery. my gracious, what a name to give a girl! she needs stirring up. she's just like a big, fat, spoiled baby. i feel like saying 'goo-goo' to her." "don't you think juno gibson is handsome?" asked peggy. "just as handsome as she can be, but i wish she didn't look so discontented all the time. why, she hasn't smiled once since we came." "i wonder why not?" commented peggy. "maybe we'll find out after we've been here a while. but i tell you one thing, i like her better without any smiles than that silly helen gwendolyn doolittle with her everlasting affected giggling at nothing. she is the kind to do some silly thing and make us all ashamed of her." "how about stella drummond?" "she is a puzzle to me. doesn't she seem an awful lot older than the rest of us? rosalie says she is eighteen and that's not so much older, but she seems about twenty-five. i wonder why?" "maybe she has lived in cities all her life and gone out a lot. you know most of the girls we met up at new london seemed so much older too, yet they really were not. they looked upon us as children, though the little mother said we were years older in common sense while they were years older in worldly experience,--i wonder what she meant?" "tanta meant that we had stayed young girls and could enjoy fun and frolic as much as ever, but those girls were not satisfied with anything but dances and theatres and all sorts of grown-up things. we have our fun with our horses, dogs and the nonsense with the boys up home. we want our skirts short and our hair flying and to romp when we feel like it." "picture helen or lily pearl romping," and peggy dove under the covers to smother her laughter at the thought of the fat, pudgy lily pearl attempting anything of the sort. polly snickered in sympathy and then said in her emphatic way: "i tell you, peggy, which girls i _do_ like and i think they will like us: marjorie terry and natalie vincent. marjorie is awfully sober and quiet, i know, but _i_ believe she's sort of lonely, or homesick or something. natalie seems more like our own kind than any girl in the school and i'll wager my tennis racquet she'll be lots of fun if she is the principal's daughter. but we'd better go to sleep this minute. we've made a sort of hash of seven girls, and if we try to size up the whole school this way it will be broad daylight before we finish. good-night. it's sort of nice to be here after all, and nicer still to have you for a room-mate, old peggoty." an appreciative little laugh was the only answer to this and five minutes later the moon was looking in upon a picture hard to duplicate in this great world: two sweet, unspoiled, beautiful girls in the first flush of untroubled slumber. the following morning being saturday and peggy's and polly's belongings having arrived, the girls set about arranging their room, half a dozen others having volunteered assistance. for convenience in reaching "up aloft" peggy and polly had slipped off their waists and were arrayed in kimonos which aroused the envy of their companions. captain stewart had given them to his "twins" as he now called the girls. peggy's was the richest shade of crimson embroidered in all manner of golden gods and dragons; polly's pale blue with silver chrysanthemums. "oh, _where_ did they come from?" cried natalie. "daddy neil brought them to us," answered peggy, as she stepped toward the door to take an armful of pictures and pillows from old jess who had followed his young mistress to washington to care for shashai and silver star, the horses having been sent on also, for columbia heights school had large stables for the accommodation of riding or driving horses for the use of its pupils, or they could bring their own if they preferred. so shashai and silver star had been ridden down by jess, taking the journey in short, easy stages, and arriving the previous evening. tzaritza, to her astonishment had not been allowed to accompany them, and roy was inconsolable for days. peggy's departure from severndale had left many a grieving heart behind. "what i gwine do wid all dis hyer truck, missie-honey?" asked jess, coming in from the corridor with a second armful: riding-crops, silver bits, a fox's brush, books and what not. "just plump it down anywhere, jess. we'll get round to it all in due time," laughed peggy from her perch upon a small step-ladder where she was fastening up some hat-bands of the _rhode island_, _new hampshire_, _olympia_ and the ships which had comprised the summer practice squadron, the girls all gathered about her asking forty questions to the minute and wild with curiosity and excitement. never before had two "really, truly navy girls" been inmates of columbia heights and it sent a wild flutter through many hearts. what possibilities might lie at the annapolis end of the w. b. & a. railroad! jess's white woolly head was bent down over the armful of books he was placing upon the floor; peggy had returned to her decorating; polly had draped her flag upon the wall and was standing her beloved bugle and a long row of photographs upon book-shelves beneath it, several girls following her with little squeals of rapture, when a pandemonium of shrieks and screams arose down the corridor and the next second a huge creature bounded into the room, tipping jess and his burden heels over head, and flinging itself upon peggy. down came ladder, peggy, and the white mass in a heap, the girls scattering in a shrieking panic to whatever shelter seemed to offer, confident that nothing less than a wolf had invaded the fold. but tzaritza was no wolf even if her beautiful snowy coat was mud-bedraggled and stuck full of burrs, nor was peggy being "devoured alive," as lily pearl, who had actually _run_ for once in her life, was hysterically sobbing into mrs. vincent's arms. no, peggy, rather promiscuous as to ladder, hammer, hat-bands and general paraphernalia, was lying flat upon her back, her arms around tzaritza, half-sobbing, half-laughing her joy into the beautiful creature's silky neck, while tzaritza whimpered and whined for joy and licked and dabbed her mistress with a moist tongue. "it is a wolf! a wolf!" shrieked lily pearl, who had returned to the scene, "and he is killing her." "it is a horrid, dirty dog! why doesn't that man drive him out?" demanded miss sturgis, who had followed tzaritza hot foot, having been in the main hall when the great hound went tearing through and up the stairs, nose and ears having given her the clue to her mistress' whereabouts. "no, it's only a wolf_hound_!" laughed polly, dropping her pictures to fly across the room and fall upon tzaritza. then explanations followed. tzaritza had been left in shelby's care, but finding it impossible to restrain her when jess was about to leave with the horses, he had tied her in the barn. the rope was bitten through as clean as a thread and tzaritza's coat told of the long journey on the horses' trail. after her wild demonstrations of joy had calmed down, tzaritza stood panting in the middle of the wreck which her cyclonic entrance had brought about, her great eyes pleading eloquently for restored favor. polly still clasped her arms about the big shaggy neck, while miss sturgis alternately protested and commanded jess to "remove that dirty creature at once." happily, mrs. vincent entered the room at this juncture and it must have been the god of animals, of which kipling tells us, which inspired tzaritza's act at that moment. or was it something in the fine, strong face which children and animals in common all trust with subtle intuition? at all events, tzaritza looked at mrs. vincent just one moment and then greeted her exactly as at home she would have greeted dr. llewellyn or captain stewart; by rising upon her hind legs, placing her forepaws upon mrs. vincent's shoulders and nestling her magnificent head into the amazed woman's neck as confidingly as a child would have done. a less self-contained woman would have been frightened half to death. miss sturgis came near swooning but mrs. vincent just gathered the great dog into her arms as she would have gathered one of her girls and said: "without the power of human speech you plead your cause most eloquently, you beautiful creature. peggy, has she ever been separated from you before, dear?" "never, mrs. vincent. she has slept at my door since she was a wee puppy." "she shall be appointed guardian of the west wing of columbia heights, and may turn out a guardian for us all. now, jess, take her to the stables and make her presentable to polite society. poor tzaritza, your journey must have been a long, hard, dusty one, for your silken fringes have collected many souvenirs of it." chapter viii a riding lesson in spite of the sturgeon's protests that "it was _most_ impolitic to establish a precedent in the school," tzaritza became a duly enrolled member of the establishment, and from that moment slept at peggy's door, a welcome inmate of columbia heights. welcome at least, to all but one person. miss sturgis loathed all animals. in the ensuing weeks peggy and polly slipped very naturally into their places. in her own class and in the west wing natalie vincent had always been the acknowledged leader, for, even though the daughter of the principal, not the slightest partiality was ever shown her and she was obliged to conform as strictly to the rules as any girl in the school. she was full of fun, eternally in harmless mischief, and, of course, eternally being taken to task for her misdeeds. by the usual order of the attraction of opposites marjorie terry and natalie had formed a warm friendship. marjorie the quiet, reserved, rather shrinking girl from seattle. she never joined in any of natalie's wild pranks, but on the other hand was a safe confidant, and if she could not follow her more spontaneous friend's lead, she certainly never balked or betrayed her. the other girls had christened them positive and negative and they certainly lived up to their names. the girls whom peggy and polly had discussed so frankly the night after their arrival all roomed in the west wing. stella in her own large, handsome room, for her father was manager of an immense railroad system in the middle west. rosalie breeze and oh "cursed spite!" isabel boylston--"_is_-a-bel," as she pronounced it,--roomed together and squabbled incessantly. at least, rosalie did the squabbling, _is_-a-bel affected the superior, self-righteous air which acted upon rosalie's peppery temper as a red rag upon a bull. it was miss sturgis, of course, who had advised placing them together. isabel was a great favorite of miss sturgis, and rosalie was the reverse. mrs. vincent had not entirely approved the arrangement, but the school was unusually crowded this year and two of the girls' parents had insisted upon single rooms for their daughters. juno gibson, from new york, had announced very positively that unless she could have a room to herself in columbia heights school she would pack her three trunks and go elsewhere, and papa gibson was not in the habit of disputing his daughter's will or wishes unless they conflicted with his own. in this matter he didn't care a straw, so miss juno was not compelled to have "a dozen girls eternally under foot and ruining my clothes by crowding the closets full of theirs." lily pearl, "tootsy-wootsy," as her companions had dubbed her, roomed with helen gwendolyn doolittle, "cutie," and a sweet, sentimental pair they made, though helen spent every possible moment with the latest object of her adoration, stella drummond, for whom she had instantly conceived an overwhelming infatuation; a pronounced school-girl "crush." of the other girls in the school only a passing glimpse need be given. saturday afternoons were always perfectly free at columbia heights, and the girls could do practically as they chose. there was one rule, or rather the absence of it, which had appealed very strongly to mrs. harold and gone a long way toward biasing her choice in favor of the school. if the girls wished to go into the city--that is, the girls in the sophomore, junior and senior grades--to do shopping or make calls, they were entirely at liberty to do so unattended by a teacher, though mrs. vincent must, of course, know where they were going. with very rare exceptions this rule had always worked to perfection. the very fact that they might do as they chose, and were put upon their honor to uphold the reputation and dignity of the school, usually acted as an incentive to them to do so, whereas the eternal surveillance and suspicion of the average school acts as a mighty inspiration to circumvent all regulations. another pleasant feature of saturday afternoons were the long riding excursions through the beautiful surrounding country, with a groom accompanying the party and with one of the girls acting as riding mistress. besides peggy and polly, stella was the only girl who had her own horse at columbia heights, the others riding those provided by the school. they were good horses and the riding-master, albert dawson, was supposed to be a good man, conscientious, painstaking, careful. he was conventional to a degree. he taught the english seat, the english rise, the english gait, and his horses were all docked and hogged in the english fashion. dawson would doubtless have taught them to drop their h's as he himself did, had he been able to do so. when shashai and silver star arrived upon the scene, manes and forelocks long and silky as a girl's hair, tails almost sweeping the ground and flowing free, poor dawson nearly died of outraged conventions, though he was forced to admit that the columbia heights stables held no horseflesh to compare with these thoroughbreds. "but oh, my 'eart, look at that mess o' 'air and mind their paces. they lopes along for all the world like them blooming little jackals we used to 'ave bout in hindia when i was in 'is lordship's service. they'd ruin my reputation if they was to be seen in the row," he deplored to jess, who was grooming his pets as carefully as old mammy would have brushed peggy's hair. jess gave a derisive snort. he had lived a good many more years than dawson and his experience with horseflesh was an exceptionally wide one. "well, yo'-all needn't be a troublin' yo' sperrits 'bout de gait ob dese hyer horses. dey kin set de pace fo' all dat truck yonder, an' don' yo' fergit dat fac'. yo's got some fairly-middlin'-good ones hyer," and jess nodded toward the stalls, "but dey's just de onery class, not de quality. no-siree. now, honey, don' yo' go fer ter git perjectin' none cause i'se praisin' yo' to yo' face. tain't good manners fer ter take notice when yo's praised. yo' mistiss 'll tell yo' dat," admonished jess, as shashai reached forward and plucked his cap from his head. "yo' gimme dat cap, yo' hyer me!" but shashai's teeth held it firmly as he tossed it playfully up and down, to jess' secret delight in his pet's cleverness, though he outwardly affected strong disapproval, after the manner of his race. the horses were like playful, fearless children with him, and jess was bursting with pride at the result of his handiwork. and certainly, it was worth looking upon, for no finer specimens of faultlessly groomed horseflesh could have been found in the land. "yes, but think of the figure i'll be cutting when i take my young ladies for a turn in the park or on the havenue," protested dawson. "couldn't ye just knot hup them tails a bit, and mebbe braid that fly-away mane down along the crest? if i'm bordered to take my young ladies into the park or the city this hafternoon, i swear i'll hexpire of mortification with them 'orses." but this was too much for jess. dawson had at last touched the match, and he caught the full force of jess's wrath: "sp-sp-spire ob--ob mortification! shamed ob dese hyer hosses! frettin' cause yo's gotter 'scort a pair of animals what's got pedigrees dat reach back ter noah's ark eanemost! why, dey blood kin make you-all's look lak mullen sap, an' dey manners, even if dey ain' nothin' but hosses, jist natchelly mak' yo' light clean outer sight. sho'! go long, chile! yo' gotter live some. dar, it done struck five bells--_dat_ mean ten-thirty, unerstan'--an' you's gotter git half-a-dozen ob yo' bob-tailed nags ready fo' de ridin' lessons yo' tells me yo' gives de yo'ng ladies at _six_ bells,--_dat's_ eleben o'clock,--sattidy mawnin's. i's pintedly cur'us fer ter see dem lessons, _i_ is. lak 'nough befo' de mawnin's ober _yo'll_ take a lesson yo'-self," and jess ended his tirade by throwing an arm across each silky neck and saying to his charges: "now, come 'long wid ole jess, honeys. yo's gwine enter high sassiety presen'ly, and yo's gotter do severndale credit. yo' hyer me?" poor dawson was decidedly perturbed in his mind. hitherto he had been the autocrat of "form and fashion," the absolute dictator of the proper style. under his ordering, horses had been bought for the school, cropped, docked and trimmed on the most approved lines, until nothing but a hopeless, forlorn stubble indicated that they had once boasted manes or forelocks, and poor little affairs like whisk-brooms served for tails, or rather did not serve, especially in fly-time. but that was a minor consideration. fashion's dictates were obeyed. with the aid of his grooms dawson soon had five horses saddled and bridled, curbs rattling and saddles creaking. there were only two cross saddles. then he turned to jess. "ye'd better be gettin' them hanimals ready, for i dare say i've to give the young ladies their lessons too." "hi-ya!" exploded jess. then added: "come 'long, babies, an' git dressed up. yo' all's gwine git yo' summons up yonder presen'ly." shashai and star obediently walked over to the bar upon which their light headstalls hung, sniffed at them with long audible breaths, then each selecting his own carried it to jess in his teeth. "well, hi'll be blowed!" murmured dawson. jess pretended not to notice, but saying unconcernedly: "dat's all right. now put 'em on lak gentlemen," he held one in each hand toward his pets. they took the bits in their mouths, slipped their heads into the headstalls and then waited for jess to buckle the throat-latches, for that was a trifle beyond them. "now fotch yo' saddles," ordered jess, pleased to the point of foolishness. the horses went to the saddle blocks, selected their saddles, lifted them by the little pommel and carried them to jess like obedient children. no mother was ever more gratified than jess. "now honeys, yo' stan' right whar yo's at twell yo' summons come from over yander. yo's gwine hyar it all right," and with this parting admonition to good behavior, jess went unconcernedly about his business of putting away the articles of his pets' toilets. "they'll be a-boltin' and raisin' the very mischief if you leave them alone," warned dawson. "what dat yo' say? i reckons yo' ain' got _yo'_ horses trained like we-all back yonder got _ours_. paht ob dey eddications must a-been neglected ef dey gotter be tied up ter keep 'em whar yo' wants 'em fer ter _stay_ at. yo' need'n worry 'bout shashai and star. _dey's_ got sense." dawson vouchsafed no reply. one must be tolerant with garrulous old niggers, but he'd keep an "hey on them 'orses" all the same. the riding school used in stormy weather and the circle for fine, were not far from the house. at five minutes before eleven the girls who were to have their saturday morning lessons prior to the ride in the afternoon, went over to the school and an electric bell notified dawson that his young ladies awaited their mounts. with due decorum and self-importance he and henry, the groom, led the horses from the stable, dawson calling over his shoulder: "you'd better come on with your harabs, i can't be waitin' with my lessons." "we-all'll come 'long when we's bid," was jess' cryptic retort. dawson scorned to reply, but mounted on his big dapple-gray horse, duke, body bent forward and elbows out, creaked away. when he reached the big circle where a group of girls stood upon the platform for mounting, peggy and polly, in their trim little divided skirts, looked inquiringly for shashai and silver star. peggy asked: "are our horses ready, dawson?" "yes, miss, i believe so, miss, but your man seemed to think i'd best let you ring, or do--well, i don't rightly know _what_ 'ee hexpected you to do, miss. but 'ee didn't let me bring the 'orses, beggin' your pardon, miss." "oh, that's all right, dawson; jess is just silly about the horses and us. you mustn't mind his little ways. it's only because he loves us all so dearly. besides it isn't necessary for anyone to bring them. i'll call them," and placing a little silver bo's'n's whistle to her lips peggy "piped to quarters." it was instantly answered by two loud neighs and the thud of rapid hoofbeats as shashai and silver star came sweeping up the broad driveway from the stables, heads tossing, manes waving and tails floating out like streamers. the girls with peggy and polly clapped their hands and shrieked with delight. "one bell, shashai! halt, star!" cried peggy and polly in a breath. the splendid animals came straight to them, stopped instantly, dropped to their knees and touched the ground with their soft muzzles in sign of obeisance. the girls all scrambled off the platform as one individual, riding lesson and everything else utterly forgotten; here was a new order of things hitherto utterly undreamed of in the school. it had been a case of "pigs is pigs" or "horses is horses" with them. that the animals they were learning to ride _ã  la mode_ might be something more than mere delightful machines of transportation had never entered their heads. "oh, how did you make them do it? will you show us? will any horse come if you know how to call him? can they all do that? didn't it take you forever and ever to teach them? aren't they beauties! what are they trying to do now?" were the questions rattling like hail about peggy's and polly's ears. for answer peggy opened a little linen bag which she carried, handing to polly three lumps of sugar and taking three out for her own pet. the horses crunched them with a relish, their light snaffle bits acting as only slight impediments to their mastication. "do you always give them sugar? oh, please give us some for our horses," begged the girls. "young ladies, i don't 'old with givin' the 'orses nothin' while in 'arness and a-mussin' them up. they'll be a-slobberin' themselves a sight," expostulated dawson. "but miss stewart's and miss howland's horses are not slobbered up," argued natalie. "they've not got curb bits. just them snaffles which is as good as none whatever," was dawson's scornful criticism. "well, why must ours have curbs if theirs don't," argued juno gibson, whose habitual frown seemed to have somewhat lessened during the past five minutes. if juno had a single soft spot in her heart it was touched by animals. she did not have a horse of her own, though she insisted upon always having the same mount, to dawson's opposition, for he contended that to become expert horsewomen his pupils must change their mounts and become accustomed to different horses. in the long run the argument was a good one, but miss juno did not yield readily to arguments. therefore she invariably rode lady belle, a light-footed little filly, with a tender mouth and nervous as a witch. her big gentle eyes held a constant look of appeal, she was chafed incessantly by the heavy chain curb, and if anyone approached her suddenly she started back, jerking up her head as though in terror of a blow. but with juno she was tractable as a lamb, and the pretty creature's whole expression changed when the girl was riding her. juno had a light, firm hand upon the bit and in spite of dawson's emphatic orders to "'old 'er curb well in 'and perpetual," she rarely used it, and lady belle obeyed her lightest touch. "our 'orses are 'arnessed as they had orter be, miss gibson, and as the queen 'erself rides them in the hold country. 'hi'm doing my best to teach you young ladies proper, and i can't 'old with some of these loose hamerican 'abits. they wouldn't be 'eld with for a minute in the row." "oh, a fig for your old row, dawson! _we're_ all american girls and there's more snap-to in us in one of your 'minutes' than in all the english girls i've ever seen in my life, and i've seen a good many--_too_ many for my peace of mind. i lived there two years," broke in rosalie breeze. "i'll bet miss howland and miss stewart can show you some stunts in riding which would make your old queen's eyes pop out. why don't you quote helen taft to us instead of queen mary? we don't care a whoop for the queen of england, but helen taft is just a yankee girl like ourselves and we can see her ride almost any day if we want to. she is big enough for us to see, goodness knows. but come on, girls. let's do our stunts," and rosalie scrambled upon the platform once more, ready to mount jack-o'-lantern, the horse she was to ride. meanwhile lady bell sniffing something eatable, had drawn near peggy, half doubtful, half trustful. at that instant peggy turned rather quickly, entirely unaware of the filly's approach. with a frightened snort the pretty creature started back. peggy grasped the situation instantly. she made a step forward, raised her arm, drew the silky neck within her embrace, whispered a few words into the nervously alert ear, and the hour was won. lady belle nestled to her like a sensitive, frightened child. "'ave a care, miss stewart! 'ave a care! she's a snappy one," warned dawson with bristling importance as he turned from settling _is_-a-bel boylston upon a big, white, heavy-footed horse, where she managed to keep her place with all the grace of outline and poise of a meal sack. now peggy had been sizing things up pretty thoroughly during the past fifteen minutes, and her conclusions were not flattering to dawson. there was a cut upon lady belle's sensitive nostril which told its little story to her. jack-o'-lantern's hoofs were varnished most beautifully, but when he lifted them one glimpse told peggy the condition of the frogs. the silver mounting upon "the senator's," isabel's horse's harness were shining, but his bit was rusty and untidy. a dozen little trifles testified to dawson's superficiality, and peggy had been mistress of a big paddock too long to let this popinjay lord it over one whom he sized up as "nothin' but a school girl." consequently, her reply to his warning slightly upset his equanimity. "you need not be alarmed, dawson, but if lady belle turns fractious i'll abide the consequences." "yes, miss, yes, miss, but _'hi'm_ responsible, you understand." "what for? the horse's well-being or mine? i'll relieve you of mine, and give you more time to care for the horses. lady belle's muzzle seems to have suffered slightly. jack-o'-lantern's hoofs need your attention, and at severndale a bit like the senator's would mean a bad quarter of an hour for _some_body. so, you'd have a hard time 'holding down your job' there. that's pure american slang. do you understand it?" and shrugging her shoulders slightly, peggy cried: "come on, girls! we're wasting loads of time. attention, shashai! right dress! right step! front! steady!" as peggy spoke, shashai and silver star sprang side by side, then stood like statues. at "right dress" they turned their heads toward the group of horses. at "right step," they closed up until they stood in perfect line beside them. at "front," "steady" they stood facing the two girls, waiting the next command. "come up to the platform. come up and be ready to mount, young ladies," ordered dawson. "we'll mount when you give the word," answered polly, her hand, like peggy's, upon her horse's withers. "you'll never be able to from the ground, miss." a ringing laugh from the girls, sudden springs and they were in their saddles. "four bells!" they cried and swept away around the ring, their gay laughter flung behind them to where their companion's horses were fidgeting and chafing under dawson's highly conventional restraint, while that disconcerted man whose veneer had so promptly been penetrated by peggy's keen vision, forgot himself so far as to mutter under his breath: "these hamerican girls are the limit, and i'm in for a ---of a time if i don't mind my hey. and she miss stewart of severndale, and i not hon to that before! 'ere's a go and no mistake." chapter ix common sense and horse sense as has no doubt already been suspected, alfred dawson, riding master at the columbia heights school, was such a complete impostor that he actually imposed upon himself. he is by no means the only one on record. oddly enough we are all more or less impostors, blind to our own pet foibles, deluded as to our own little weaknesses. dawson's methods with his charges, both two-footed and four, were the methods of thousands of others, whether they have the directing of young people, or the training of animal's entrusted to them. like grains of corn--pour them into a hopper and they come out at the other end meal--of some sort--good--bad or indifferent as it happens--that was not _his_ concern; his job was to pour in the grains and he knew of but one way to pour--just as someone else had poured before him. that he might devise new and better methods of pouring never entered his square-shaped head. it was left for a fifteen-year-old girl, and an old darky, whom in his secret heart he regarded as no better than the dirt beneath his feet, to start volcanic eruptions destined to shake the very foundations of his self-complacence. hitherto he had simply been lord of his realm. he had come to columbia heights highly recommended by the father of one of its pupils and had assumed undisputed control. mrs. vincent, like hundreds of other women who own horses, but who know about as much concerning their care and well-being as they know of what is needful for a rajah's herd of elephants, judged wholly by the outward evidences. the horses came to the house in seemingly faultless condition: their coats shone, their harness seemed immaculate; they behaved in a most exemplary manner. nor had anything ever happened to the young ladies while they were in dawson's care. what more could a conscientious school principal ask of her riding master? it had never occurred to her to appear in the stables when least expected; to examine harness, saddles, stalls, feed mangers, bedding; to study the expressions of her horses' faces as she would have studied her girls. how many women ever think of doing so? it never entered her head to argue that there was more reason for it. few of her girls would have hesitated to express their minds had any one misused them, or to insist upon comfortable conditions should uncomfortable ones exist for them. yet mrs. vincent, sweet, strong, kind, and just to everyone, was as blind as a babe to the impositions practiced by the oily-tongued, deferential dawson. true, he did 'get upon her nerves' now and again, but she secretly reproached herself for what she felt to be her american prejudices, and by way of self-discipline overlooked in dawson many little aggravating peculiarities which she would have felt it her duty to instantly correct in the other servants. and no doubt things would have gone on in exactly the same way indefinitely had not a little lassie who loved horses and animals as she loved human beings, and whose understanding of them and their understanding of her was almost uncanny, chosen columbia heights school for her alma mater. that was a red letter hour for dawson. he had a vague feeling that some influence, perhaps his evil genius, was bestirring itself. at all events, he was ill at ease, something of his accustomed self-conceit was lacking and he was, as the result, somewhat irritable, though he dared not manifest open resentment. now it need hardly be stated that peggy had no premeditated intention of antagonizing the man. he meant no more to her than dozens of other grooms, for after all he was merely an upper servant, but her quick eyes had instantly made some discoveries which hurt her as a physical needle prick would have hurt her. peggy had employed too many men at severndale under shelby's wonderful judgment and experience of both men and animals, not to judge pretty accurately, and _most_ intuitively, the type of man mounted upon big, gray "duke." duke's very ears and eyes told peggy and polly a little story which would have made dawson's pale blue eyes open wider than usual could he have translated it. as peggy and polly went cavorting away across the ring, dawson called rather peremptorily: "young ladies, you will be good enough to come back and take your places beside the others. this is a riding lesson, not a circus show, _hif_ you please." polly shot a quick glance at peggy. there was the slightest possible pressure of their knees and shashai and silver star glided back to their places beside the other four horses. "now you will please 'old your reins and your bodies as the other young ladies do," commanded dawson. "never could do it in this world, dawson. i'd have a crick in my back in two minutes. besides, we're not out here for lessons, miss stewart and i, but just as spectators. we'll look on and see the other girls learn the proper caper," laughed polly. "then i can't for the life of me hunderstand why you came hout at all. hit's just a-stirrin' hup and a-fidgeting the other 'orses. they're not used to the goin's hon of 'alf broke hanimals." "half broken! it seems to me, dawson, that most horses are _wholly_ broken but very few wholly _trained_. if we disturb the others, however, we'll go off for a spin by ourselves. come, polly. full speed, tzaritza! four bells, shashai!" and away sped the trio, tzaritza, like the obedient creature she was, bounding from the platform where peggy had bidden her "charge," lest she startle the horses. "i'll hopen the gate for you, miss," dawson hastened to call, a trifle doubtful as to whether he had not been just a little too dictatorial. "no need. this gate is nothing," called peggy and as one, they skimmed over the four-foot iron gate as though it were four inches, hands waving, eyes alight, lips parted in gay laughter. tzaritza's joyful bark mingling with their voices as she rushed away. the girls' cries of admiration or amazement drowned dawson's: "well, 'hi'll be blowed! hi couldn't a done hit like that to save me 'ead," which was quite true, for very few could ride as these young girls rode. meanwhile back in the circle two of dawson's pupils were expressing themselves without reserve. "i mean to learn to ride like _that_," announced rosalie breeze. "the idea of bouncing up and down in a stupid old side-saddle when we could just as well sit as polly and peggy do. why, i never saw anything as graceful as those two girls in my life. can't _you_ show me how, dawson? if you can't you can just make up your mind i am going to find someone who _can_. jack-o'-lantern's sure enough disgusted with _this_ show-down, and i believe that's the reason he has no more spirit than a bossy-cow." "i'm going to speak to mrs. vincent," announced juno. "this may be all very conventional and correct, but all i can do is rise and fall in a trot; i'm petrified if lady belle breaks into a canter, and if she were to leap over that fence, i'd break my neck. yet did you ever _see_ anything so graceful as those two girls and that magnificent dog when they went over? i tell you, girls, we've got something worth while in this school now, believe me. and just you wait!" and with this cryptic ending juno jockeyed ahead of her companions. "i wish mother could have seen and heard it all," whispered natalie. "then why don't you tell her, and ask her to come out and see those girls ride," demanded rosalie. "that's exactly what i mean _to_ do," replied natalie, with an emphatic little nod. "i'm beginning to believe we don't know half we should know about the stables." "i should imagine that mrs. vincent would be a far better judge of what was proper for young ladies than a couple of perfectly lawless girls who have been brought up on a southern ranch or something. _i_ call them perfect hoydens and they would not be countenanced a moment in the back bay," was isabel's superior opinion. "a southern ranch?" echoed rosalie, "you're mixed in your geography, isabel. they have plantations and estates in the south, but the ranches are out west. but i don't wonder you prefer bumping along as you do on the old senator. you match him all right, all right. but just you wait until we leave you behind when we've learned to ride like peggy and polly, for we're going to do it, you can just bet your best hat." "thank you, i never indulge in betting or slang. both are vulgar in the extreme. and as to riding like a circus performer, i have higher aims in life." "going in for the trapeze? they say it's fine to reduce embonpoint." no reply was made to rosalie's gibe and the lesson went on in its usual uneventful manner. meanwhile peggy and polly were having a glorious game of tag, for the columbia heights grounds were very extensive, and drives led in every direction. when pursued and pursuer were in a perfect gale of merriment, and tzaritza giving way to her most joyous cavortings, a sudden turn brought them upon mrs. vincent. she was seated upon a rustic bench in one of the cosy nooks of the grounds and tzaritza, bounding ahead, was the first to see her, and tzaritza never forgot a kindness. the next second she had dropped upon the ground at mrs. vincent's feet, her nose buried in her forepaws--tzaritza's way of manifesting her allegiance and affection. then up she rose, rested her feet upon the bench and for the second time laid her head upon mrs. vincent's shoulder. before that gratified lady had time to do more than place an arm about the big dog's neck, peggy's and polly's chargers had come to a halt in front of her and at word of command stood as still as statues. the girls slipped from the horses' backs, as bonny a pair as ever thrilled an older woman's soul. "oh, mrs. vincent, we've had such a race!" cried polly, smiling into mrs. vincent's face with her irresistible smile. "isn't it good just to be alive on such a day?" smiled peggy, turning to her as she would have turned to mrs. harold, her face alight. aunt katherine had been peggy's only "wet blanket" and, it had not been wrapped about her long enough to destroy her absolute confidence in grown-ups. perhaps miss sturgis would threaten it, but all that lay in the future. "and to be just fifteen with all the world before you, and such animals beside you," answered mrs. vincent, stroking tzaritza and nodding toward the horses. "yes, aren't they just the dearest ever? who could help loving them?" "will they stand like that without being tied?" "oh, yes, they have always obeyed me perfectly. i wish you could see roy and the others. some day you must come out to severndale, mrs. vincent, and see my four-footed children. i've such a lot of them." "tell me something of your home and home-life, dear. we are not very well acquainted, you know, and that is a poor beginning." it was a subject dear to peggy's heart, and she needed no urging. seated beside mrs. vincent, for half an hour she talked of her life at severndale, polly's interjections supplying little side-lights which mrs. vincent was quick to appreciate, though polly did not realize how they emphasized peggy's picture of her home. "and you really raised those splendid horses yourself? i have never seen their equal." "but if you only knew how wonderfully intelligent they are, mrs. vincent! of course, silver star is now polly's horse, but she has learned to understand him so perfectly, and ride so beautifully, that he loves her as well as he loves me and obeys her as well." for a moment or two mrs. vincent's face wore an odd expression. "understand" a horse? to be "loved" by one? did she "understand" those in her stable? did they "love" her? she almost smiled. it was such a new viewpoint. yet, why not? the animals upon her place were certainly entirely dependent upon her for their happiness and comfort. but had she ever given that fact a serious thought? slipping an arm about each girl as they sat beside her she asked: "what do you think of our horses, and of dawson? for a little fifteen-year old lassie you seem to have had a remarkable experience." peggy colored, but polly blurted out: "i think he's a regular old hypocrite and so does peggy. why, shelby would have forty fits if any of our horses' feet were like jack-o'-lantern's, or their bits as dirty as the senator's." "oh, polly, please don't!" begged peggy. but it was too late. "what is this?" asked mrs. vincent quickly. "well, i dare say i've made a mess of the whole thing. i generally do, but peggy and i do love animals so and hate to see them abused." "are _ours_ abused, polly?" "i don't suppose that generally speaking people would say they were. most everybody would say they were mighty well cared for, but that's because people don't stop to think a thing about it. my goodness, _i_ didn't till peggy made me. a horse was just a horse to me--any old horse--if he could pull a wagon or hold somebody on his back. that he could actually _talk_ to me never entered my head. have you ever seen one _do_ it?" asked polly, full of eager enthusiasm. "i can't say that i ever have," smiled mrs. vincent, and polly quickly retorted, though there was no trace of disrespect in her words: "now you are laughing at us. i knew you would. well, no wonder, most people would think us crazy for saying such a thing. but truly, mrs. vincent, we're not. peggy, make shashai and star talk to you. i'd do it, only i'd sort of feel as though i were taking the wind out of your sails. you are the teacher and i'm only your pupil." "do you really wish me to show you something of their intelligence, mrs. vincent? i feel sort of foolish--as though i were trying to show off, you know." "well, you are _not_, and i've an idea that for a few moments we can exchange places to good advantage. it looks as though i had spent a vast deal of my time acquiring a knowledge of higher mathematics and modern languages, at the expense of some understanding of natural history and now i'll take a lesson, please." "of course i don't mean to say that every animal can be taught all the things _our_ horses have learned any more than all children, can be equally taught. you don't expect as much of the child who has been, misused and neglected as you do of the one who has been raised properly and always loved. it depends a whole lot on that. our horses have never known fear and so we can do almost anything with them. shashai, star, come and make love to missie." as one the two beautiful creatures came to the seat and laid their soft muzzles upon peggy's shoulders. then raising their heads ran their velvety lips over her cheeks with as gentle, caressing a touch as a little child's fingers could have given, all the time voicing the soft, bubbling whinney of a trustful, happy horse. peggy reached an arm about each satiny head. after a moment she said: "attention!" back started both horses to stand as rigid as statues. "salute mrs. vincent." up went each splendid head and a clear, joyous neigh was trumpeted from the delicate nostrils. "call shelby!" what an alert expression filled the splendid eyes as the horses, actually a-quiver with excitement, neighed again, and again for the friend whom they loved, and looked inquiringly at peggy when he failed to appear. "where's jess?" eager, impatient snorts replied. peggy rose to her feet and carefully knotting, the reins upon the saddles' pommels to safeguard accidents, said: "go fetch him!" tzaritza was alert in an instant. "no, not you, tzaritza. charge. four bells, shashai,--star!" and away swept the horses. "do you mean to say they understand and will really bring jess here?" asked mrs. vincent incredulously. "oh, yes, indeed. they have done so dozens of times at home." "well, they are wonders!" the rapid hoofbeats were now dying away in the distance. perhaps ten minutes elapsed when their rhythmic beat was again audible, each second growing more distinct, then down the linden-bordered avenue came shashai and star, jess riding shashai. the horses moved as swiftly as birds fly. as they caught sight of peggy they neighed loudly as though asking her approbation. a lump of sugar awaited each obedient animal, and jess asked: "what yo' wantin' ob jess, baby-honey?" "just to prove to mrs. vincent that the horses would bring you here if i told them to." "co'se dey bring me if miss peggy bidden 'em to," answered jess as though surprised that she should ask such a needless question. "but how did you know she wished you?" "how'd i know, mist'ss? why dem hawses done _tol'_ me she want me. yas'm dey did. dey done come t'arin' back yonder ter de stable an' dey cotch holt ob my sleefs wid dey teefs, and dey yank and tug me 'long outen de do'. den dis hyer shashai, he stan' lak a statyer twell i hike me up on his back, den he kite away like de bery debbil--axes yo' pardon, ma'am!--an' hyer we-all _is_. dat's all de _how_ dar is ob it. _dey_ knows what folks 'specs ob 'em. dey's eddicated hawses. dey's been _raised_ right." "i think they have been. peggy, i want to walk back to the stables with you and polly. i'd like to see with my own eyes some of the things you have spoken about." "o mrs. vincent, i am so afraid it will make a whole lot of trouble! dawson knows i criticised him--indeed, i lost my temper and said he couldn't 'hold down a job' at severndale. excuse the slang, please, but he rubbed me the wrong way with all his fuss, when he really doesn't know, or doesn't want to know--i don't know which--one thing about horses." mrs. vincent paused a moment. "perhaps you are right," she said. "at all events, your sense of justice seems to be one of your strong points. go back to the house and let jess take your 'children' to the stables. a little diplomacy can do no harm. and jess, you need not mention seeing me with the young ladies. your little mistress has begun my _horse_ education. i haven't been very wise about them, i fear, but now i am going to make amends." "yas'm. amens does help we-all a powerful lot when we's wrastlin' wid we-all's sperrits. i hopes dey fotch yo' froo yo' doubtin's. i'se done had ter say many an amen in ma day." jess' face was full of solicitude. he had not the remotest idea of the source of mrs. vincent's turmoil of spirit, but if she found it necessary to say "amen," jess instantly concluded that his sympathies were demanded. at all events he was now a part of columbia heights and all within it's precincts came within his kindly solicitude. tradition was strong in old jessekiah. mrs. vincent had much ado to keep her countenance. she had come to washington from a western city and had but slight understanding of the real devotion of the old-time negro to his "white folks." alas! few of the old-time ones are left. it was with a sense of still having considerable to learn that she parted from the girls and jess and made her way toward the stables, reaching there some time after jess had unsaddled his horses and was performing their toilets with as much care as a french maid would bestow upon her mistress, though no french maid would ever have kept up the incessant flow of affectionate talk to the object of her attentions that jess was maintaining. he took no notice of mrs. vincent, but _she_ did not miss one shadow or shade of the absolute understanding existing between jess and his "babies," as he called them. "dar now, honeys," he said, as he carefully blanketed them. "run 'long back yander to yo' boxes. yo' dinner's all a-ready an' a-waitin', lak de hymn chune say, an' yo's ready fo' it. dem children ain' never gwine send yo' back to de stable, so het up, yo' cyant eat er drink fo' an hour. no siree! not _dem_." at that moment dawson and his assistant appeared with the horses the girls had ridden. notwithstanding the cool crispness of the morning, lady belle was in a lather where her harness rested. the senator was blowing like a grampus; jack-o'-lantern's bit was foam-flecked and natalie's pretty little "madam goldie" looked fagged. mrs. vincent instantly contrasted the condition of shashai and star with the others. yet peggy and polly had been riding like valkyrie. as dawson espied the lady of the manor his face underwent a change which would have been amusing had it not been entirely too significant. mrs. vincent made no comments whatever concerning the horses but a veil had certainly fallen from her eyes. she asked dawson how his young ladies were coming on with their riding lessons, how many had arranged to ride in the park that afternoon, and one or two trivial questions. then she returned to the house a much wiser woman than she had left it an hour earlier. chapter x tzaritza as disciplinarian several days had passed since the riding lesson. it was saturday evening and study period, which began at five and lasted until six-thirty, was ended. dinner was served at seven on saturdays and from eight until ten o'clock the girls were perfectly free. a group was gathered in stella drummond's big room and preparations for a fudge party, after the hearty dinner had "somewhat shaken down," were under way. stella's chafing dish was the most up-to-date one in the school, and stella's larder more bountifully supplied than the other girls. indeed, stella never lacked for anything so far as the others could discover and had a more liberal supply of pocket money than is generally allowed. mrs. vincent had expressed doubts as to the wisdom of it when stella's father mentioned the sum she was to have, but he had laughed and answered: "oh, nonsense, my dear madam! at home she would have double if she wished it. she knows how to use it, and remember she is all i have to spend my income upon. don't let that little matter worry you. just give all your attention to polishing her up a bit and teaching her the newest fol-de-rols. living all over the country is not the best thing for a young lady, i have found out. it may be conducive to physical development, but it leaves something to be desired in educational lines." so stella, though eighteen, and supposed to be a senior, was really taking a special course in which junior work predominated. she had selected her own room, it had been furnished exactly as she wished, and it certainly resembled a bridal apartment more than a school-girl's bed-room. a large alcove and private bath opened from it, and a balcony which commanded a beautiful view of stony brook park made it luxurious to a degree. in this room, lighted by softly shaded electric drop lights, a cheery log fire blazing upon the shining brass andirons, the girls had gathered. stella was arranging her electric chafing dish upon its little marble stand. peggy was opening a box of shelled pecan nuts, polly measuring out the chocolate, and the other girls were supplying all needful, or needless, advice concerning the _modus operandi_. tzaritza, now a most privileged creature indeed, had stretched her huge length before the hearth, looking for all the world like a superb white rug, and rosalie breeze was flat upon her stomach, her arms around the dog's neck, her face nestled in the silky hair. juno gibson reclined gracefully in a luxurious wicker chair, its gorgeous pink satin cushions a perfect background for her dark loveliness--which no one understood better than juno herself. helen doolittle (most aptly named) was gazing in simpering adoration upon stella from a pillow-laden couch, and now commented: "oh, stella, what adorable hands you have. how do you keep them so ravishingly white and your nails so absolutely faultless? i could cover them with kisses, sweetheart." stella's laugh held wholesome ridicule of this rhapsody and she replied: "don't waste your emotion upon _my_ hands. just save it until somebody comes along who wished to cover _your_ hands with kisses--i mean some one in masculine attire. for my part, i don't think i'd care to have a girl try that experiment with me." "have you ever had a _boy_ cover your hands with kisses?" asked helen eagerly, starting from her position. stella, raised her head, looked at the simple, inconsequent, little doll-faced blonde and with an odd smile said: "well, i could hardly have called him a boy." "oh, was he a man? a real _man_? did he wear a moustache? just think, girls, of having a man's moustache brush the back of your hand as he covered it with kisses. oh, how terribly thrilling. do tell us all about it, stella! i knew the moment i met you you must have had a romantic history. did your father find it out, and what did he say?" "yes, i told him all about it and he laughed at me," and again stella laughed her mystifying laugh. "oh, i'd just _adore_ having such a ravishing experience as that," said lily pearl montgomery from the window seat, "but how can one have any thrilling experiences in a stupid old school! now there are polly and peggy; think of all they could tell us if they only would. you girls must be fairly bursting with the most wonderful stories if you'd only come down off your pedestals and tell us. _i_ think you're both too tight for words. and all those darling cadets' photographs in your room. you needn't try to make _me_ believe that 'faithfully yours, bubbles' and 'your chum, ralph,' and 'for my pilot, captain polly, wheedles,' and 'for peggy stewart, chatelaine, happy,' don't mean a whole lot more." "what's that?" asked peggy, catching her name and looking up from her occupation. she caught polly's eyes which had begun to snap. polly had also been too busy to pay much attention at first, but she had heard the concluding sentences. she turned and looked at lily with exactly the expression upon her sixteen-year-old face which had overspread it years before when the thirteen-year-old polly had surprised the sentimental "thusan thwingle" exchanging osculatory favors with "one of thothe horrid boyths" in the basement of the high school at montgentian. then she said with repressed vehemence: "i only wish our boys could have heard you say that. if you wouldn't come in for the running of your life my name's not polly howland. you'd suit some of the boys back yonder, but not our bunch. of all the hot air! stella, is your chafing-dish ready?" peggy had colored a rosy pink. she lacked polly's experience with other girls. piqued by polly's superior rebuff, helen came to the inane lily pearl's support in a manner she knew would hit loyal polly's most vulnerable spot: "look at peggy's face! look at peggy's face! which is the particular he, peggy? polly may be able to put up a big bluff, but your face is a dead giveaway." "i don't think you would be able to understand if i told you. middie's haven and the 'bunch' are just a degree too high up for you to reach, i'm afraid, and there's no elevator in wilmot hall," answered peggy quietly. polly laid down the things she was holding for stella, dusted her hands of chocolate crumbs by lightly rubbing her fingers together, and walked quietly over to the couch. helen looked somewhat alarmed and drew back among her pillows. polly, never uttering one word, bent over, swooped up helen, pillows and all and holding her burden as she would have held a struggling baby, walked straight out of the room and down, the corridor to her own room, the shouts, screams and laughs of the girls following her. helen was absolutely speechless at the audacity of the act. bumping her door together by the only available means left her, since both arms were occupied, polly then plumped helen, now almost ready to resort to hysterical tears, upon a wooden shirt-waist box and placing herself in front of her, struck the attitude of a little red-headed goddess of vengeance as she said: "helen doolittle, you may run _me_ all you've a mind to--it doesn't mean a thing to me; i'm used to it; i've been teased all my life and i'm bomb-proof. but peggy stewart's made of different stuff. she hasn't been with girls very much, and never with a _silly_ one before. give her time and she'll understand them a good sight better than they'll ever understand her. and the boys she has known are not the kind who are ever likely to want to know _you_. so there's not much use wasting time explaining things. but i tell you just this, i won't stand for peggy being run even a little bit, and you can circulate that bit of information broadcast. she's the finest ever, and the girl who can call her friend is in luck up to her ears. so understand: let her alone or reckon with me." "do you think we are a lot of crazy schoolboys and expect to settle our disagreements with a regular fist-a-cuff bout? you must come from a very queer place." "where _i_ come from doesn't matter in the least. peggy is the one under discussion and you know where she comes from and who she is. _what_ she is you'll never know." "i don't see why she should be so very hard to understand." "she isn't--for people with enough sense. now just take one good look at those pictures. is there a weak face among them? one of two things will happen to you if you ever happen to meet the originals: they'll either make you feel like a silly little kid or they won't take a bit of notice of you. it will depend upon how you happen to strike them." "oh, are they such, wonders as all that?" "if you ever get an invitation down to annapolis you'll have a chance to find out. peggy and i have about made up our minds to have a house party during the holidays, but we haven't quite made up our minds which girls we are going to like well enough to ask to it. tanta suggested it. she is anxious to know our friends, and we are anxious to have her. she sizes people up pretty quickly and we are always mighty glad to have her opinion." polly spoke rapidly and the effect upon helen was peculiar. from the pugnacious attitude of an outraged canary, ready to do battle, she was transformed into the sweetest, meekest love-bird imaginable. a veritable little preening, posing, oh-do-admire-me creature, and at polly's last words she jumped from the box and clasping her hands, cried: "a house-party! you are planning a house-party? oh, how perfectly adorable. oh, which girls are you going to invite? oh, i'll never, never tease peggy again as long as i live. i'll be perfectly lovely to her and i'll make the other girls be nice too. to think of going up there and meeting all those darling boys. oh please tell me all about it! the girls will be just crazy when i tell them. which of these fellows will be there?" helen had rushed over to polly's dresser upon which in pretty silver frames were photographs of ralph, happy and wheedles. on peggy's dresser shorty and durand looked from their frames straight into her eyes, while several others not yet framed looked down from the top of the bookshelf. silly little helen was in an ecstasy. her mamma had never believed in companions of the opposite sex for her "sweet little daughter" but had kept her in a figurative preserve jar which bore the label "you may look but you must not touch." mamma's instructions to mrs. vincent upon placing helen in the school had been an absolute ban upon any masculine visitors, or visits upon helen's part where such undesirable, though often unavoidable, members of society might congregate. "she is so very innocent and unsophisticated, you know, and so very young," added mamma sweetly. mrs. vincent smiled indulgently, but made no comments: she had encountered such mammas and such sweetly unsophisticated daughters before and she then and there resolved to keep an extra watchful eye upon this innocent one. thus far, however, nothing alarming had occurred, but mrs. vincent knew her material and was prepared for almost anything. she also knew lily pearl and felt pretty sure that if an upheaval ever took place it would turn out that lily pearl or helen had touched off the mine. the foregoing scene gives some hint of the viewpoints of the young ladies in question. during this digression helen had caught up wheedle's picture and was pressing it rapturously to her fluttering bosom and exclaiming: "you're a perfect darling! if i could have just one dance with _you_ i'd be willing to _die_! polly, how old is he!" but polly had left the room and was on her way back to stella's. as she reached it she came face to face with the sturgeon and the sturgeon's eyes held no "lovelight" for her. "miss howland, what was the cause of the wild shrieks which disturbed me a moment since? miss montgomery says you can tell if you will and since none of your companions seem inclined to do so, i will hear your explanation. i was on my way to inform miss stewart that mrs. vincent wished to see her in her study at once when this hideous uproar assailed my ears." polly glanced quickly about the room. sure enough, peggy had left it. some of the girls looked concerned, others quite calm; among the latter were stella and juno. rosalie, with tzaritza's head in her lap, looked defiant. she hated miss sturgis. polly turned and looked squarely into miss sturgis' eyes. "the girls were screaming because i carried helen out of the room," she answered quietly. "it seems to me you must be somewhat in need of exercise. i would advise you to go to the gymnasium to work off your superfluous energy. why did you carry helen from the room? has she become incapable of voluntary locomotion?" "not yet," answered polly, a twinkle coming into a corner of the gray eyes. "_not yet?_" emphasized miss sturgis. "are you apprehensive of her becoming so?" "she needs more exercise than she gets," answered polly, half smiling. that smile acted as salt upon a wound. miss sturgis' temper rose. "please bear in mind that it does not devolve upon _you_ to decide that question." "i did not try to settle that question, miss sturgis. if you wish to know why i carried helen out of the room i did it because she was running--" "doing what? i don't think i understand your boyish slang." "well, teasing peggy, and i won't have peggy teased by anybody if i can stop it. she doesn't understand girls' ways as well as i do because she hasn't been thrown with them. so when helen teased her i picked her up and carried her down to our room and i don't reckon she will tease her any more." "so you have come into the school to set its standards and correct its shortcomings, have you? are you so very superior to your companions--you and your protã©gã©e?" polly looked straight into the narrow eyes looking at her, but made no reply. "answer me, instantly." "i have never considered myself superior to anyone, but i _do_ consider peggy stewart superior to any girl i have ever known, and i think you will agree with me when you know her better," asserted polly loyally. "you are insolent." "i do not mean to be. any one who knows her will tell you the same thing." "i repeat you are insolent and you may go to your room." polly made no reply, but started to leave the room. tzaritza sprang to her side. miss sturgis interposed. "leave that dog where she is. go back, you horrible beast," and she raised her hand menacingly. tzaritza was not quite sure whether the menace was intended for polly or herself. in either case it was cause for resentment and a low growl warned against further liberties. "be careful, miss sturgis. tzaritza thinks you are threatening me," said polly. it was said wholly in the interest of the teacher. miss sturgis' early training and forebears had not been of an order to develop either great dignity, or self-control. her ability to teach mathematics was undisputed. hence her position in mrs. vincent's school, though that good lady had more than once had reason to question the wisdom of retaining her, owing to the influence which she exerted over her charges. the grain beneath did not lend itself to a permanent, or high polish, and it took only the slightest scratch to mar it. polly's words seemed to destroy her last remnant of self-control and she turned upon her in a fury of rage. as she seized her by the arm and cried, "silence!" polly whirled from her like a flash crying, "charge, tzaritza!" but it was too late, the 'hound had sprung to polly's defense, only it was polly's protecting arm into which tzaritza's teeth sank. the girl turned white with pain. instantly the beautiful dog relinquished her hold and whining and whimpering like a heartbroken thing began to lick the bruised arm. then arose a hubbub compared to which the screams of which miss sturgis had complained had been infantile plaints. lily pearl promptly went into hysterics. juno shrieked aloud and even the self-contained stella cried out as she ran to catch polly in her arms, for the girl seemed about to faint. but miss sturgis, now thoroughly terrified at the crisis she had brought to pass, called madly for help. helen's screams mingled in the pandemonium, for helen had been brought hack from her romantic air castle with a rush. notwithstanding the fact that mrs. vincent's study was down one flight of stairs and at the other end of the building, she became aware of the uproar and her conversation with peggy came to an abrupt pause. then both hurried into the hall to see the tails of horatio hannibal harrison's coat vanishing up the broad stairway and to hear frã¤ulein hedwig wailing, "oh ze house iss burning up _and_ down i am sure!" meanwhile upon the scene of action polly had been the first to recover her wits. the skin had not been broken, for tzaritza had instantly perceived her error and released her grip almost as soon as it was taken. but miss sturgis would not have escaped so easily, as well she knew, and her hatred for tzaritza increased tenfold. when mrs. vincent and the others arrived upon the scene she broke into a perfect torrent of invective against the dog, but was brought to her senses by the principal's quiet: "miss sturgis, you seem to be a good deal overwrought. i will excuse you. you may retire to your room until you feel calmer." "let me explain! let me tell you what a horrible thing has happened!" cried miss sturgis. "when you are less excited i shall be glad to listen. frã¤ulein, kindly accompany miss sturgis to her room and call the housekeeper. now, polly, what is it?" asked mrs. vincent, for polly was the center of the group of excited girls, though calmer than any of them. "tzaritza made a mistake and caught my arm in her teeth, that is all, mrs. vincent. but she has done no harm. it doesn't hurt much now; she did not mean to do it any way." "what!" cried peggy, aghast, "tzaritza attacked _you_, polly?" polly nodded her head in quick negative, striving to keep peggy from saying more. but tzaritza had crawled to peggy's feet and was literally grovelling there in abject misery. "charge, tzaritza!" the splendid creature lay motionless. "polly, what happened?' demanded peggy, once more the peggy of severndale and entirely forgetful of her present surroundings. mrs. vincent smiled and laying her hand gently upon peggy's arm said: "don't embarrass polly, dear. leave it to me." "oh, i beg your pardon, mrs. vincent. i forgot," answered peggy, blushing deeply. mrs. vincent nodded forgiveness, then turning to stella, asked: "were you here all the time, stella?" "yes, mrs. vincent." "then please tell me exactly what happened." stella told the story clearly and quietly. when she ended there was a moment's hush, broken by rosalie breeze crying: "and tzaritza never, never would have done a single thing if miss sturgis hadn't lost her temper. she is forever scolding us about losing ours, but she'd just better watch out herself. i wish tzaritza had bitten her!" "rosalie!" "well, i do, mrs. vincent. it was every bit her own fault. she hates tzaritza, and i love her," was rosalie's vehement if perplexing conclusion as she cast herself upon the big dog. tzaritza welcomed her with a grateful whine and crept closer, though she never raised her head. she was waiting the word of forgiveness from the one she loved best of all, but peggy was awaiting tzaritza's exoneration. mrs. vincent, who had sent for the resident trained nurse, was examining polly's arm and now said: "it is all very distressing, but i am glad no more serious for polly. the arm is badly bruised and will be very painful for some time, but i can't discover a scratch. miss allen, will you please look after this little girl," she asked, as the sweet-faced trained nurse entered the room, her white uniform snowy and immaculate, her face a benediction in its sweet, calm repose. "go with miss allen, dear, and have your arm dressed." polly paused only long enough to stoop down and kiss tzaritza's head, the caress being acknowledged by a pathetic whine, then followed the nurse from the room. peggy was terribly distressed. "do you think i would better send her back to severndale, mrs. vincent?" she asked. "has she ever attacked anyone before, peggy?" "never in all her life." "i hardly think she will again. she may remain. come here, tzaritza." tzaritza did not stir. "up, tzaritza," commanded peggy, and the affectionate creature's feet were upon her shoulders as she begged forgiveness with almost human eloquence. "oh, my bonny one, how could you?" asked peggy as she caressed the silky head. tzaritza's whimpers reduced some of the girls to tears. "now go to mrs. vincent," ordered peggy, and the hound obediently crossed the room to lay her head in that lady's lap. "poor tzaritza, you did what you believed to be your duty, didn't you? none of us can do more. i wish some of my other problems were as easy to solve as the motives of your act. go on with your fudge party, girls. it will prove a diversion. i must look to other matters now," and mrs. vincent sighed at the prospect of the coming interview with miss sturgis. it was not her first experience by any means. chapter xi behind scenes the girls were hardly in a mood to return to their fudge-making, so stella produced a box of whitman's chocolates and the group settled down to eat them and discuss the events of the past exciting half hour. polly squatted upon the rug and with her uninjured arm hauled about half of tzaritza upon her lap. tzaritza was positively foolish in her ecstatic joy at being restored to favor. "poor tzaritza, you got into trouble because i lost my temper, didn't you? it was a heap more my fault than yours after all." "oh, there's nothing wrong with tzaritza. it's the sturgeon. hateful old thing! i just hope mrs. vincent gives her bally-hack," stormed rosalie. "suppose we did shout and screech? it's saturday night and we have a right to if we like. but what under the sun did mrs. vincent want of you, peggy?" "oh, nothing very serious," answered peggy, smiling in a way which set rosalie's curiosity a-galloping. "yes, what _did_ she want?" demanded polly, turning to look up at peggy. "can't tell anybody _now_. you'll all know after thanksgiving," answered peggy, wagging her head in the negative. "oh, please tell us! ah, do! we won't breathe a living, single word!" cried the chorus. "uh-mh!" murmured peggy in such perfect imitation of old mammy that polly laughed outright. "aren't you even going to tell polly?" asked rosalie, who had arrived at some very definite conclusion regarding these friends, for rosalie was far from slow if at times rather more self-assertive than the average young lady is supposed to be. for answer peggy broke into a little air from a popular comic opera running just then in washington and to which captain stewart had taken his little party only a few weeks before: "and what is right for tweedle-dum is wrong for tweedle-dee," sang peggy in her sweet contralto voice, polly following in her bird-like whistle. the little ruse worked to perfection. the girls forgot all about peggy's "call down," as a summons to mrs. vincent's study was banned, and had a rapture over polly's whistling and peggy's singing, nor were they satisfied until a dozen airs had been given in the girl's very best style. then came the story of the concerts at home, and polly's whistling at the masquerader's show when wharton van nostrand fell ill, and a dozen other vivid little glimpses of the life back in severndale and up in "middie's haven" until their listeners were nearly wild with excitement. "and they are to have a house party there during the holidays, girls. think of that!" cried helen. "honest?" cried lily pearl, leaning forward with clasped hands, while even juno, the superior, became animated and remarked: "really! i dare say you will choose your guests with extreme care as to their appeal to the model young men they are likely to meet at annapolis, for i don't doubt your aunt, mrs. harold, is a most punctilious chaperon." "juno's been eating hunks of the new webster's dictionary, girls. that's how she happens to have all those long words so near the top. they got stuck going down so they come up easy," interjected rosalie. juno merely tossed her head, but vouchsafed no answer. rosalie's western _gaucherie_ was beneath her notice. juno's home was at the hotel astor in new york city. at least as much of "home" as she knew. her mother had lived abroad for the past five years, and was now the princess somebody-or-other. her father kept his suite at the astor but lived almost anywhere else, his only daughter seeing him when he had less enticing companionship. a "chaperon" did duty at the astor when juno was in the city, which was not often. consequently, juno's ideas of domestic felicity were not wholly edifying; her conception of anything pertaining to home life about as hazy as the nebula. "perhaps if you ever know tanta you'll be able to form your own opinion," answered polly quietly, looking steadily at juno with those wonderfully penetrating gray eyes until the girl shrugged and colored. stella laughed a low, odd little laugh and came over to drop upon the rug beside polly, saying as she slipped her arm around her and good-naturedly dragged her down upon her lap: "you are one funny, old-fashioned little kid, do you know that? some times i feel as though i were about twenty years your senior, and then when i catch that size-me-up, read-me-through, look in your eyes, i make up my mind _i'm_ the infant--not you. where did you and peggy catch and bottle up all your worldly wisdom?" "didn't know _i_ had so much," laughed polly, "but peggy was born with hers, i reckon. if i have any it has been bumped into my head partly by mother, partly by aunt janet, and the job finished by the boys juno has been referring to. it doesn't do to try any nonsense with _that_ bunch; they see through you and call your bluff as quick as a flash. we were pretty good chums and i miss them more than i could ever miss a lot of girls, i believe. certainly, more than i missed the montgentian girls when i left them." "nothing like being entirely frank, i'm sure," was juno's superior remark: "that's another thing the boys taught us," replied polly imperturbably. just then the bell rang for "rooms." "there's tattoo!" cried polly. "if i get settled down at taps tonight i'll be doing wonders. miss allen has bandaged up my arm as though tzaritza had bitten half of it off. come on, 'ritza. peggy, you'll have to get me out of my dudds tonight. good-night, girls. sorry we didn't get our fudge made. maybe if i'd let helen alone you would have had it," and with a merry laugh polly ran from the room, all animosity forgotten. "what did she mean by 'tattoo' and 'taps,'" asked natalie of peggy. "the warning call sounded on the bugle for the midshipmen to go to their rooms, and the lights out call which follows. have you never heard them? they are so pretty. polly and i love them so, and you can't think how we miss them here. polly always sounded them on her bugle at home. you've no idea how sweetly she can do it," answered peggy as she walked toward her room beside natalie. "oh, i wish i _could_ hear them. i wonder if mother knows anything about them," cried natalie enthusiastically. "do you know, i think you and polly are perfectly wonderful, you have so many original ideas. i am just crazy to know what mother wanted of you tonight. i'm going to ask her. do you think she will tell me?" "why not? the only reason i did not tell was because i felt i had no right to. if mrs. vincent wants the others to know she will tell them, but you are different. i reckon mothers can't keep anything from their own daughters. at least polly and her mother seem to share everything and i know mrs. harold is just like a mother to me." the girls separated and peggy and polly were soon behind closed doors discussing mrs. vincent's private interview with the former. the following tuesday was hallow e'en and where is your school-girl who does not revel in its privileges? mrs. vincent, contrary to miss sturgis' preconceived ideas of what was possible and proper for a girls' school, though the latter never failed to quote the rigid discipline of the school which had profited by her valuable services prior to her engagement at columbia heights, was given to some departures which often came near reducing miss sturgis to tears of vexation. one of these rules, or rather the lack of them, was the arrangement of the tables in the two dining-rooms. in the dining-room for the little girls under twelve a teacher presided at each table as a matter of course, but in the main dining-hall covers were laid for six at each table, one of the girls presiding as hostess, her tenure of office depending wholly upon her standing in the school, her deportment, ability and general average of work. at the further end of the room mrs. vincent's own table was placed, and the staff of eight resident teachers sat with her. it was a far happier arrangement than the usual one of placing a teacher at each table and having her, whether consciously or unconsciously, arrogate the entire conversation, interests and viewpoint to herself. of course, there are some teachers who can still recall with sufficient vividness their own school-girl life to feel keenly the undercurrent of restraint which an older person almost invariably starts when thrown with a group of younger ones, and who possesses the power and tact to overcome it and enter the girl-world. but these are the exceptions rather than the rule, and none knew this better than mrs. vincent. consequently, she chose her own way of removing all possible danger of impaired digestion, believing that the best possible aid to healthy appetites and perfectly assimilated food were untrammeled spirits and hearty laughs. so she and her staff sat at their own table where they were free to discuss the entire school if they chose to do so, and the girls--for, surely, "turn-about-is-fairplay"--could discuss them. it worked pretty well, too, in spite of miss sturgis' inclination to keep one eye and one ear "batted" toward the other tables, often to mrs. vincent's intense, though carefully concealed amusement. and now came hallow e'en, and with small regard for miss sturgis' prejudices, plump in the middle of the school week! at the end of the last recitation period that afternoon when the whole school of one hundred fifty girls, big and little, had gathered in the chapel, for the working day invariably ended with a few kindly helpful words spoken by mrs. vincent and the reading of the thirty-fourth psalm and singing shelley's beautiful hymn of praise, mrs. vincent paused for a moment before dismissing her pupils. many of the older girls knew what to expect, but the newer ones began to wonder if their sins had found them out. nevertheless, mrs. vincent's expression was not alarming as she moved a step toward them and asked: "which of my girls will be willing to give up her afternoon recreation period and devote that time to the preparation of tomorrow's work!" the effect was amusing. some of the girls gave little gasps of surprise, others, ohs! of protest, others distinct negatives, while a good many seemed delighted at the prospect. these had known mrs. vincent longest. "those of you who are ready to return to the main hall at four o'clock and work until five-thirty may be released from all further obligations for the evening, and the attic, laundry and gymnasium will be placed at your disposal for a hallow e'en frolic and--" but she got no further. rosalie breeze, sans ceremony, made one wild leap from her chair and rushed toward the platform. miss sturgis made a peremptory motion and stepped toward her, but mrs. vincent raised her hand. the next second rosalie had flung herself bodily into mrs. vincent's arms, crying: "oh, if every schoolmarm was just exactly like _you_ i'd never, never do one single bad thing to plague 'em and i'll let you use me for your doormat if you want to!" a less self-contained woman would have been staggered by the sudden onslaught and felt her rule and dignity jeopardized. mrs. vincent was of different fibre. she gathered the little madcap into her arms for one second, then taking the witch-like face in both hands kissed each flushed cheek as she said: "i sometimes think you claim kinship with the pixies,--you are half a witch. so you accept the bargain? good! have all the fun you wish but don't burn the house down." by this time the whole school had gathered around her, asking questions forty to the minute. mrs. vincent looked like a fly-away girl herself in her sympathetic excitement, for her soft, curly chestnut hair had somewhat escaped its combs and pins, and her cheeks were as rosy as the girls. mrs. vincent was only forty, and now looked about half her age. polly and peggy crowded close to her, natalie shared her arms with rosalie, quiet, undemonstrative marjorie's face glowed with affection, while even juno condescended to unbend, and lily pearl and helen gave vent to their emotions by embracing each other. stella, tall, stately and such a contrast to the others, beamed upon the group. but isabel put the finishing stroke by remarking with, a most superior smile: "o mrs. vincent, what a perfect darling you are! don't you perfectly dote on her girls? _i_ fell in love with her years ago when i first met her and i've simply worshiped at her shrine ever since." "rats!" broke out rosalie, and mrs. vincent had just about all she could manage for a moment. her emotions were sadly at odds. polly's laugh saved the day and deflected isabel's scorn. "i really do not see what is amusing you, miss howland; i am sure i am only expressing the sentiments of my better poised schoolmates." "oh, we all agree with you--every single one of us--though we are choosing different ways of showing it, you see. if peggy and i had been down home we'd probably have given the four-n yell. that's _our_ way of expressing our approbation. the boys taught us, and we think its a pretty good way. it works off a whole lot of pent-up steam." "what is it, polly?" asked mrs. vincent. "i'm afraid you would have to hear the boys give it to quite understand it, mrs. vincent, but i tell you it makes one tingle right down to one's very toes--that yell!" "can't you and peggy give it to us on a small scale? just as a sample of what we may hear some day? perhaps if the girls hear it they can fall in. i'd like to hear it myself." polly paused a moment, looking doubtfully at peggy. that old naval academy yell meant a good deal to these two girls. they had heard it under so many thrilling circumstances. "we will give it if you wish it, mrs. vincent, though it will sound funny i'm afraid from just polly and me. maybe though, the girls will try it too after we have given it." with more volume and enthusiasm than would have seemed possible from just two throats, peggy and polly began: "n--n--n--n! a--a--a--a! v--v--v--v! y--y--y--y! navy! navy! navy! navy! mrs. vincent! mrs. vincent! mrs. vincent!" the ending being entirely in the nature of a surprise to that lady who blushed and laughed like a girl. but before she could escape, polly had sprung to the platform and as a cheer leader who would have put wheedler of old to shame was crying: "come on!" the girls caught the spirit and swing with a will and the room rang to their voices. clapping her hands and laughing happily mrs. vincent ran toward the door only pausing long enough to say: "four p. m. sharp! then from seven to ten 'the goblins will get you if you don't watch out!'" "let polly sound 'assembly' at four. please do, mrs. vincent. it will make us come double time," begged peggy, running after her and detaining her by slipping her arm about her waist. "assembly? i don't believe i quite understand." "on her bugle, you know. it's so pretty, and we did that way at home if we wanted to bring the bunch together in a hurry." "well, i'm learning something new every minute, i believe. yes, sound your bugle call, polly, and be sure i shall be on the _qui vive_ to hear it. before we know it we shall have a _girls'_ military school." "oh, wouldn't it be perfectly splendid if we only could and all wear brass buttons!" cried rosalie. "i think some of the discipline would be splendid for all of us, and especially the spirit of the thing," answered stella. "the trouble with most girls lies in the fact that they don't know how to work together. there isn't much class spirit, or coã¶peration. maybe if we tried some of the methods peggy and polly seem to know so much about we'd come closer together." "team work, i guess you mean," said polly quickly. "it means a whole lot." sharply at four the staccato notes of "assembly" rang across the terrace as polly sounded the call upon her bugle. the girls came hurrying from every direction and the ensuing hour and a half, usually free for recreation, was cheerfully given over to study. dinner was served at six and at seven-thirty the revels began. at peggy's suggestion a part of the afternoon had been devoted to devising costumes out of anything at hand, for a fancy dress party had been hastily decided upon. as a result of this some unique and original hallow e'en sprites, nymphs, dryads or witches foregathered in the big laundry, "cleared for action," polly said, and two or three aroused little cries of admiration. peggy was a dryad. she had rushed away to the woods on shashai to return with her mount buried from sight in autumn leaves. the dark, rich reds of the oaks, the deep yellow of the beeches, the dogwood's and maple's gorgeous variations and the sweet-gums blood red mingled in a bewildering confusion of color. stripping the leaves from the twigs she proceeded to sew them upon a plain linen gown, and the result was exquisite, for not a vestige of the fabric remained visible, and peggy's piquant, rich coloring peeped from a garment of living, burning color. she herself was the only one who did not fully appreciate the picture she presented. polly's costume was a character from one of the children's pages in a sunday newspaper. the entire costume was made of newspapers, with "the yellow kid" much in evidence, polly's tawny hair lending itself well to the color scheme. natalie, who was fair as a lily, had chosen "sunlight," and was a bonny little sun goddess. lily pearl, after a great deal of fuss and fidgeting had elected to go as titania, and helen essayed oberon. juno, who was very musical, made quite a stately sappho. little, sedate marjorie was an alaskan-indian princess, and rosalie rigged up a puck costume which made her irresistible. isabel chose to be portia, though that erudite lady seemed somewhat out of place among the mythological characters. but stella was a startling sibyl, with book, staff, and a little crystal globe (removed from her paper-weight) in which to read horoscopes. the others went in all sorts of guises or disguises. in the laundry they found all properties provided. to tell of all which took place would crowd out too much which must follow. of course apples were bobbed for, a hat pin was run through them to prod the seeds for the true lover's heart, and they were hung upon strings to be caught in one's teeth (the apples, _not_ the hearts) if luckily one did not get one's nose bumped as they swung back. melted lead was poured through a key into cold water to take the mysterious form which would reveal the occupation, or profession, of the future _he_, and lily pearl was thrown into an ecstasy by having _her_ sputtering metal take very distinctly the form of a ship. _and that house party "bid" not even hinted at yet!_ they walked downstairs backward, looking into a mirror to discover the particular masculine face which would fill their live's mirrors, though, unhappily some of the potency of the charm was lost because it could not be done upon the witching stroke of midnight. dumb cakes were made, _his_ initials pricked in the dough, while in perfect silence the cakes were baked on the laundry steam dryer, joy and rapture descending upon the fortunate she if the initials did not vanish in the baking. a ball of twine was thrown out of the kitchen window, but when the thrower hurried out to find the ardent one who had so promptly snatched it up and fled, she discovered horatio hannibal harrison beating a hasty retreat. he had been playing "peeping tom" and the ball had caught him squarely upon his woolly crown. a doubtful conscience did the rest. a dozen other tests followed until the girls' occult knowledge reached the limit. then they danced in the gym to music furnished by mrs. vincent, who ended the prancing by sending in a huge "fate cake," a big basket of nuts, a jug of sweet cider and some of aunt hippy's cookies. cutting the fate cake ended the hallow e'en frolic. lily pearl was thrown into a flutter by finding the ring in her slice. juno turned scornful when a plump raisin fell to her share, helen drew a tiny key from her piece, and the coin dropped into rosalie's lap. "rubbish! i don't want riches. i want a handsome husband," she cried with refreshing frankness. "i hardly think i would noise that fact abroad," was isabel's superior criticism. "no, i wouldn't if i were you, it would be so perfectly preposterous," retorted rosalie. isabel made no reply, but took care that no one else discovered who had found the thimble. chapter xii christmas at severndale by a lucky chance christmas this year fell upon monday, thus giving the midshipmen either liberty, or leave, according to their classes, or conduct grade, from saturday at twelve-thirty to monday at five-thirty, when those enjoying the latter rare privilege had to report for duty in bancroft hall. christmas leave for the first class was an innovation, which only those on first conduct grade might hope to enjoy. that there was the ghost of a chance of any member of the lower classes coming in for such a rare treat not even the most sanguine dreamed. _but_, and that but was written in italics and capitals, when captain stewart made up his mind to do a certain thing it required considerable force of will, stress of circumstances, and concerted opposition to divert him. but the outcome lies in the near future. the excitement incident to the rescue of columbine had barely subsided when a telegram brought peggy the joyful news that captain stewart's ship, which had met with some slight accident to her machinery, was to be dry-docked at norfolk and her father was to have two weeks' leave. the _rhode island_ was to be in port at the new york navy yard, and this meant the forgathering of all who were nearest and dearest to peggy and polly; a rare joy at the holiday season for those connected with the navy. consequently, this year's yuletide was to be a red letter one in every sense, for mrs. howland and gail, who had spent thanksgiving in new york, would return to annapolis for christmas and, joy of joys! constance, snap, and mr. harold would come with them. the telegraph and telephone wires between new york, norfolk, washington and annapolis were in a fair way to become fused. as many of the girls lived at great distances from washington, the christmas recess began on the twenty-second. captain stewart had 'phoned to his party "heavy marching orders, three p. m., friday, dec. 22, 19--." a wild flutter ensued. the thanksgiving holiday at mrs. harold's had been widely discussed at columbia heights and had stirred all sorts of emotions to their very centers. at captain stewart's request, mrs. harold had sent unique invitations to each of the girls soon after their return to school. they were couched in the formal wording of an official invitation from a battle ship of the fleet and created a sensation. natalie, stella, nelly, rosalie, juno and marjorie were invited. lily pearl's and helen's attentions to peggy and polly having proved abortive, they contrived ways and means of their own to reach the land o' heart's desire. helen's old bachelor uncle, a queer, dull old gentleman, whose mind was certainly _not_ active, and whom helen could, figuratively speaking, turn and twist about her little finger, was persuaded to pass the holidays at wilmot hall. he knew a number of people in annapolis, so the path to a certain extent was cleared for lily pearl and helen, though they would have given up all the uncles in christendom to have been included in that house party. but half a loaf is certainly better than no bread, and once at annapolis they meant to make the most of that half. so it was with no small degree of triumph that they announced the fact that they, too, would be at the christmas hop. just how they intended to manage it they did not disclose. sufficient unto the hour was to be the triumph thereof. captain stewart arrived on friday morning in time for luncheon and, guileless man that he has already shown himself to be, promptly offered to "convoy the two little cruisers to annapolis." his offer was accepted with so many gushing responses that the poor man looked about as bewildered as a great st. bernard which has inadvertently upset a cage of humming birds, and finds them fluttering all about him. lily and helen were of a different type from the girls he knew best, but he accepted the situation gracefully and enjoyed himself hugely with the others, even marjorie blossoming out wonderfully under his genial kindliness. isabel amused him immensely. isabel was to spend her holiday in boston, _of course_, but was to meet a friend in baltimore who would chaperone the shrinking damsel safely to mamma's protecting arms. captain stewart would escort her to the naval academy junction, from which point it seemed perfectly safe to let her pursue the remaining half hour's journey to baltimore unattended. in the course of the journey from washington to the junction isabel elected to make some delayed notes in her diary, greatly to the secret amusement of captain stewart, who happened to be sitting just behind her. "making a list of all your dances and christmas frolicings, little-er-ahem--, miss?" "boylston, captain stewart. oh, no, i rarely attend dances; there is so much that is instructive to be enjoyed while at home. i am making some notes in my diary." "don't say so. find the outlook inspiring?" captain stewart laughed as he looked out upon the dreary landscape, for the afternoon was lowery, and certainly, the cheerless flat landscape between washington and the junction was far from thrilling. "oh, i am not depending upon my visual sight for my inspiration, captain stewart. don't you think the study of one's fellow beings intensely interesting?' "yes, it's a heap cheerier inside the car than outside on this confoundedly soggy day," answered captain stewart, preparing to withdraw from an even more depressing atmosphere than that beyond the car windows, by turning to rosalie, whose eyes were commencing to dance. but isabel had no idea of foregoing an opportunity to make an impression, little guessing the sort of one she was in reality making. "yes, it is exceedingly damp today, but do you think we ought to allow externals to affect us?" she asked. "eh? what? i'm afraid you're getting beyond my bearings. lead won't touch bottom." isabel smiled indulgently: one must be tolerant with a person forced to spend his life within the limited bounds of a ship. "miss sturgis, our instructor in sociology, advises us to be very observing and to take notes of everything unusual. you know we shall graduate next year and time passes _so_ swiftly. it seems only yesterday that i entered columbia heights school, and here christmas is upon us. i have so little time left in which to accomplish all i feel i should, and i could not graduate after i'd passed seventeen. i'd _die_ of mortification. and, oh, that fact holds a suggestion. pardon me if i make a note of it, and--and--_how_ do you spell accomplished, captain stewart? i really have so little time to give to etymology." for one second captain stewart looked at the girl as though he thought she might possibly be running him. he was more accustomed to the fun-loving, joking girl than to this "cellar-grown turnip" as he mentally stigmatized her. then the little imps in rosalie's eyes proved his undoing: "i'm afraid i'm no good as an english prof. reckon i'd spell it akomplish. sounds as good as any other way. you'll know what it means when you overhaul it anyhow. but here we are at the junction. pipe overside, bo's'n," he cried to peggy. good-bys were hastily spoken and captain stewart soon had his party hurrying across the platform to the annapolis car. as he settled rosalie in her seat he asked: "how many miss boylstons have you got at columbia heights?" "only one, thank the powers!" answered rosalie fervently. it was nearly six when the electric cars rolled up to the rear of wilmot hall and the girls saw mrs. harold, and a number of the midshipmen of the first class lined up and eagerly watching for the particular "she" who would spend the holidays in annapolis. a mob of squabbling boys made a mad rush for the car steps in the hope of securing suitcases to carry into the hotel, and had not the midshipmen swept them aside, further progress for the car's passengers would have been barred. the hoodlums of the town seem to spring from the very ground upon the arrival of a car at wilmot and certainly make life a burden for travelers trying to descend the car steps. there was only time for general greetings just then, as all hurried into wilmot to meet old friends and new ones, mrs. howland, constance, snap, gail and mr. harold having already arrived. pending the departure for severndale, mrs. harold had, at captain stewart's request, engaged three extra rooms, thus practically preempting her entire corridor for her guests, and a jollier party it would have been hard to find than the one escorted down to the big dining-room that evening by "the executive officer," as captain stewart called mrs. harold, who was acting as chaperone for his party. directly dinner ended captain stewart and commander harold left upon some mysterious mission which threw the girls into a wild flutter of curiosity. "oh, what is it all about?" demanded rosalie. "can't tell one single thing until daddy neil says i may," laughed peggy. "does polly know?" asked natalie. peggy nodded. "you'll have to bottle up your impatience for an hour or two. go to your rooms and shake out your pretties for tomorrow night's frolic, for i am going to 'pipe down' early tonight. when you have finished stowing your lockers come back to the sitting-room and we'll have a quiet, cozy time until our commanding officers return. constance, gail and snap must make a call this evening, but i'm not going to let anyone claim my time. it all belongs to my girls," said mrs. harold gaily, as she and mrs. howland seated themselves before the open fire. the girls hurried away to do her bidding, for it had been decided to remain at wilmot until after the christmas hop, all going out to severndale by a special car when the dance was over, harrison, mammy and jerome, under mrs. harold's tactful generalship, having made all preparations for the big house party. in a few moments the girls returned from unpacking their suitcases. the thanksgiving visit had removed all sense of reserve or strangeness with mrs. harold, but they did not know mrs. howland, and for a moment there seemed an ominous lull. then peggy crying: "i want my old place, little mother," nestled softly upon the arm of the big morris-chair in which mrs. harold sat, and rested her head against mrs. harold. the other girls had dropped upon chairs, but mrs. harold was minded to have her charges pro tem at closer range, so releasing herself from peggy's circling arm for a moment, she reached for two plump cushions upon the couch near at hand and flopping them down, one at either knee said: "juno on this one, rosalie on the other; marjorie beside me and natalie, stella and nelly with polly," for polly had already cuddled down upon her mother's chair. before the words had well left her lips, rosalie had sprung to her coign of vantage crying: "oh, mrs. harold, you are the dearest chappie i ever knew, and it's already been ten times lovelier than polly and peggy ever could describe it." with a happy little laugh, natalie promptly seated herself upon the arm of mrs. howland's chair, but juno hesitated a moment, looking doubtfully at the cushion. juno was a very up-to-date young lady as to raiment. how could she flop down as rosalie had done while wearing a skirt which measured no more than a yard around at the hem, and geared up in an undergarment which defied all laws of anatomy by precluding the possibility of bending at the waist line? she looked at mrs. harold and she looked at the cushion. as her boys would have expressed it "the little mother was not slow in catching on." she now laughed outright. juno did not know whether to resent it or join in the laugh too. there was something about the older woman, however, which aroused in girls a sense of camaraderie rather than reserve, though juno had never quite been able to analyze it. she smiled, and by some form of contortion of which necessity and long practice had made her a passed mistress, contrived to get herself settled upon the cushion. "honey," said mrs. harold, patting her shoulder, "if you want to live up to your name you'll discard your coat of mail. your namesake would have scorned its limitations, and your young figure will be far lovelier and more graceful, to say nothing of the benefit to yourself and future generations, if you heave your armor plate overboard." it was all said half-jestingly, half-seriously, but juno gave her head a superior little toss as she answered: "and go looking like a meal sack? to say nothing of flinging away twenty perfectly good dollars just paid to madam malone." "i'm afraid i'm a very old-fashioned old lady, but i have no notion of letting any madam malone, or any other french lady from erin dictate _my_ fashions, or curtail the development and use of my muscles; i have too much use for them. do peggy and polly resemble 'meal sacks?' yet no madam malone has ever had the handling of their floating-ribs, let me tell you. watch out, little girl, for a nervous, semi-invalid womanhood is a high price to pay for a pair of corsets at seventeen. there, my lecture is over and now let's talk of earthquakes." at her aunt's question regarding peggy and herself resembling "meal sacks," polly laughed aloud and being in a position to practically demonstrate the freedom which a sensibly full skirt afforded, cried: "if i couldn't _run_ when i felt like it i'd _die_. i tell you, when i strike heavy weather i want my rigging ship-shape. i'd hate to scud under bare poles." the subject was changed but the words were not forgotten. the other girls had all gathered about the blazing logs upon cushions or hassocks, and a pretty group they formed as they talked eagerly of the coming hop, and tried to guess what captain stewart was planning, mrs. harold and mrs. howland joining enthusiastically in it all. "tanta," asked polly, "do you know that lily pearl montgomery and helen doolittle are here at wilmot with helen's uncle? we have christened him 'foxy grandpa.' just wait till you see him. he looks the character exactly." "are they to go to the hop?" asked mrs. harold, instantly interested, for even though she had heard amusing tales of the two girls, they were still young girls, and she was concerned for their happiness and pleasure. "we don't know and we didn't like to seem inquisitive," replied polly. "yes, they are going, little mother. helen told me so. foxy grandpa knows somebody who knows somebody else, who knows the boys who are to take them, but they didn't tell us their names. i wonder if we know them," was peggy's laughing explanation. "i hope they will have a happy time," said mrs. howland gently as she stroked back polly's silky curls. "you trust them to have the time of their lives, mumsey. but oh, _isn't_ it good to be here!" and polly favored her mother with an ecstatic hug. "what time are we to go to severndale tomorrow, little mother?" asked peggy. "not until after the hop, dear. it will be very late, i know, but christmas is a special day of days. that is the reason i'm going to send you all off early tonight. nine-thirty gunfire will see you started for the land o' nod." "aren't we to wait until daddy neil comes back?" "not unless he gets back before three bells and it looks doubtful, two have already struck. but you'll learn the news the first thing in the morning." but at that moment captain stewart came breezing into the room. peggy and polly flew to him crying: "did he say yes? did he say yes? oh, answer, quick! do!" they begged, each clasping arms about him. "if i answer quick you'll both cast loose but the longer i keep you in suspense the longer you'll lay hold," was his quizzical retort. "we won't stir. we won't budge. tell us." for answer captain stewart drew an official-looking document from his blouse pocket and waved it high above the girls' heads. a series of ecstatic squeals arose from them. opening the carefully folded paper he read its stereotyped phrasing, all of which is too serious to be herein repeated. suffice it to say that it secured for durand leroux, second class herbert taylor, second class ralph wilber, third class jean paul nichols, third class gordon powers, third class douglas porter, third class leave of absence under captain neil stewart's orders from 6:30 p. m., december 23rd, to 6 p. m., december 25th, 19--. when the excitement had somewhat subsided, captain stewart said: "now that i'm sure of it, i must go 'phone out to severndale or jerome and harrison will be throwing fits. we'll have to quarter that bunch in the old wing, but lord bless my soul, i reckon they'd be willing to go out to the paddock. but mind, you girls, _not one whisper of it to those boys, until i give the word_, or it will be the brig for every mother's daughter of you," and with this terrifying threat he strode off down the corridor. just then three bells struck in the tower and at the second stroke the nine-thirty gun boomed out its welcome "release." as the sound died away mrs. harold walked over to the big window calling to the girls to join her. "stand here a moment," she said, then going over to the electric switch turned off all the lights. "why? what?" cried all the girls excepting peggy and polly. "look at the windows on the third deck of bancroft, southwest corner," she said, unhooking a drop light from above her desk and crossing the room to the puzzled girls. "those are durand's and bert's rooms. next to them are gordon's and doug's. watch closely." presently from two of the windows lights were flashed three times in rapid succession. then absolute darkness. instantly mrs. harold turned the reflector of her drop light toward the academy in such a way that the light would be cast out across the night, then by turning the key on and off quickly she flashed its rays three times, paused a moment, then repeated the signal. instantly from the rooms mentioned came the answering flashes, which after a brief interval were repeated, mrs. harold again giving her reply. "oh, who does it? what is it for? what do they mean?" asked her visitors. "just our usual good-night message to each other. my boys are all dear to me, but durand and gordon peculiarly so. those rooms are theirs. shall i tell you the message the flashes carry? it is just a little honor code. i want the boys to stand well this term, but, like most boys they are always ready for skylarking, and the work from seven-thirty to nine-thirty is easily side-tracked. so we have agreed to exchange a message at gunfire if 'all is well.' if they have been boning tomorrow's work my flash light is answered; if not--well, i see no answering flash." "do you think they always live up to the agreement?" asked rosalie. "i have faith to believe they do. isn't it always better to believe a person honest until we prove him a thief, than to go the other way about it? besides, they carry the talisman." "what is it--little mother?" asked juno, to the surprise of the others, slipping to mrs. harold's side and placing her arm about her. "would you really like to know, dear? suppose we throw on a fresh log and leave the lights turned off. then we'll have a confidential ten minutes before you go to bed. you can all cuddle down in a pile on the big bearskin." a moment later the flames formed a brilliant background to a pretty picture, and mrs. harold was repeating softly, as the upspringing flames filled the room with, their light and rested lovingly upon the young faces upturned to here: "each night when three bells strike the hour up in the old clock's lofty tower, a flashing beam, a darting ray their message of good faith convey. "those wavering, clear, electric beams, who'll guess how much their message means? or dream the wondrous tale they tell? 'dear little mother, all is well.' "yes, out across the peaceful night, by moon and stars made silvery bright, this message comes in gleaming light: we've kept the faith; good-night! good-night! "our token of a duty done, an effort made, a victory won; the bond on which we claim the right to flash our message, our 'good-night.' "dear little mother. precious name! none sweeter may a woman claim, no greater honor hope to gain than this which three short words contain. "to win and hold a love so pure, a faith so stanch, so strong, so sure- to gain a confidence so rare- what honors can with these compare? "no wonder as i flash my ray across the night's dividing way, in deepest reverence i say: god keep you true, dear lads, alway." the girls' good-nights were spoken very tenderly. the message of the lights had carried one to them as well. chapter xiii yuletide "we are one real old-timey family, sure enough," said captain stewart heartily, as he gathered his girls about him in mrs. harold's sitting-room saturday morning. "but, my-oh, my! i wish i were that indian-chinese-jap god, what's his name? who has about a dozen, arms. two are just no account," he added laughingly as he held peggy in one and polly in the other, while all the other girls, gail included, crowded around him, all talking and laughing at once, all demanding to know what would be the very first thing on the day's program. mr. and mrs. harold, mrs. howland, constance and snap were seated about the room, highly amused by the group in the center, for the girls had gathered about captain stewart as honeybees gather about a jar of sweets. "come close! come close, and i'll tell you. can't talk at long range," rumbled the kindly man, flopping his arms over peggy's and polly's shoulders like an amiable sea lion. rosalie flew to snuggle beside polly. natalie by peggy, the other girls drawing as close as possible, stella excepted, who laughed, blushed prettily and said: "i think captain stewart has more than his arms full now, so i'll hover on the outskirts." "i used to be scared to death of him," confessed gail, "but those weeks up in new london scared away my scare." "well, what is it to be this morning?" asked peggy. "suppose we all go over and take a look around the yard. it may be rather slow with just two old fogies like harold and me for escorts, but we'll leave the matrons at home and take snap. that ensign's stripe on his sleeve makes him seem a gay young bachelor even if he is a staid old benedic, and constance can lend him to you girls for a little while, anyway." "i'm game! no telling which one will be responsible for an elopement, connie," cried snap, bending over his pretty young wife to rest his dark hair against hers for a second. she laughed a happy little laugh as she answered: "go along, sir heartbreaker. people down here have not forgotten auld lang syne and i dare say the rocking chair fleet will at once begin to commiserate me. but you girls had better watch out; he is a hopeless flirt. so beware!" nevertheless, the light in her eyes as she raised them to the handsome man whose hand rested upon her shoulders held little of apprehension. ten minutes later the merry group had set forth. mrs. harold, mrs. howland and constance were only too glad to have their lively charges out of the way for an hour or two, for a good bit must be attended to before they could leave for severndale that evening. captain stewart and the girls would not return until twelve o'clock and the boys--who had been invited out for luncheon rather than to dine, former experiences having taught mrs. harold the folly of inviting dinner guests on a hop night--would arrive immediately after formation. at twelve o'clock the girls returned from the yard, and when one bell struck were watching in undisguised eagerness for their luncheon guests. from mrs. harold's windows they could see the steady stream of men rushing from bancroft toward the main gate, and in less time than seemed possible, footsteps were audible--yes, a trifle more than audible--as "the bunch" came piling up wilmot's stairway; for the promptitude with which "the little mother's boys" responded to "a bid" to middies' haven was an unending source of wonder to most people and certainly to her school-girl guests. eight midshipmen, came tramping up the stairs, eager to welcome old friends and ready to meet new ones upon the old ones' recommendations. to peggy, polly and nelly the happy, laughing, joking lot of lads were an old story, but the influx came near turning some of the other girls' heads. juno was sorely divided between douglas porter's splendid figure and durand's irresistible charm, until miss juno began to absorb the full significance of "class rates" and gold lace. the "five-striper" or head of the entire brigade was a well set-up chap and rather good looking, though suffering somewhat from a bad attack of "stripitis," as it was termed in bancroft hall. he was fairly efficient, a "good enough fellow" but not above "greasing," that is, cultivating the officers' favor, or that of their wives and daughters, if thereby ultimate benefits accrued to himself. the three-striper of ralph's, jean's and durand's company whom mrs. harold had asked to escort stella, was an all-round popular man, and a great favorite of mrs. harold's for his irreproachable character, sunny, lovable disposition and unfailing kindness to the underclassmen. the others who crowded the room are old friends. jean paul and rosalie chattered like a pair of magpies. natalie was the happiest thing imaginable as she and bert taylor, who had found the little golden-head most enticing, laughed and ran each other like old chums. peggy was everywhere, and although durand strove to break away from juno in order to "get in a few" with peggy, he was held prisoner with "big doug" until guy bennett the five-striper arrived and promptly appropriated her. then durand got away. gordon powers devoted himself to nelly, while ralph hovered over polly, for they had endless interests in common. "and you made the crew, ralph!" cried polly. "maybe i wasn't tickled nearly to death when you wrote me about it. and you're out for basketball too? how did you come out in math and mech? and who's taken gumshoe's place this year? and you never wrote me a word about class president election, though i guess i've asked you in every letter. what makes you so tight with your news, any way? i write you every little thing about columbia heights. come across with it." ralph turned crimson. polly looked first baffled then suddenly growing wise, jumped at him and shook him by the shoulders just as she used to do in the old days as she cried: "it's _you_! and you never told me! you good-for-nothing boy." "hi! watch out! the captain's clearing for action," cried jean paul. "told you you'd catch it when she found out." "well, tanta might have told me, anyhow," protested polly. "ralph wouldn't let me. kept me honor bound not to. but if you are all ready for your luncheon, come down at once. there are--how many of us? twenty-four? merciful powers!" "no, tanta, only twenty-three. poor gail's minus an escort," cried polly, a shade of regret in her eyes, for gail meant a great deal to this little sister. "why, so she is. now that's too bad of me," but something in her aunt's voice made polly look at her keenly. a moment later she understood. as the merry, laughing, chattering group reached the last landing of the stairs leading down to the assembly hall, a tall, broad-shouldered man who stood at the foot looked eagerly upward. polly gave one wild screech and nearly fell down the remaining steps, to fling herself into the arms outstretched to save her, as a deep voice said: "one bell, captain polly! you'll carry away your landing stage if you come head on at full speed." "oh, shortie! shortie! where did you come from?" cried polly, nearly pumping his arm from its socket, while all the others crowded around to welcome the big fellow whom all had loved or esteemed during his undergraduate days. "ask the little mother. she's responsible, and gail needs looking after among all this bunch, i know. come along, young lady. i've got to see you fed and cared for." and gail seemed perfectly willing to "come along." with such an addition to her family, mrs. harold had made arrangements to have two large round tables reserved for her in the smaller of the two dining-rooms, the older people at one, with gail, stella, juno, shortie, allyn and guy to make the circle, the younger people with peggy and polly as hostesses at the adjoining table. in addition to her own regular waiter, the second head waiter and two assistants had been detailed to serve, but with the christmas rush and the number of people at wilmot for the holidays there was more or less delay between courses. "where is john?" she demanded, as they were waiting for the salad. "over yonder. shall i hail him?" asked durand, from the next table, promptly putting his fingers to his mouth as though to give one of the ear-splitting whistles which seem to carry for miles. "if you dare, you scape-grace, right here in this dining-room!" she warned. "oh, do it!" cried polly. "i want to learn how. show me." "all right; stick out your tongue," directed durand and polly promptly fell into the trap, though unluckily she happened to be looking straight past durand at the moment, and what proved more embarrassing, right at a table occupied by foxy grandpa, helen and lily pearl, whom mrs. harold had not yet met, so, of course, did not recognize. (helen and lily did not mean to lose sight of peggy and polly if they could help it.) there are some situations where explanations only make matters worse. this was one of them. polly was in everlasting disgrace and everyone at the table in shouts of laughter, as well as those at other tables near at hand, whose occupants could not have helped hearing and seeing if they would. but at that moment rosalie diverted attention from polly by trying to clap her hands regardless of the piece of luncheon roll she held, thus promptly launching it over her shoulder, where it went merrily bounding across the polished floor to be gravely rescued by the irreproachable john. but rosalie was in the realms of the gods and far above such mundane matters as a luncheon roll's eccentricities. mrs. harold was no whit behind her girls in their fun, and was so well known to every guest in the hotel that her table was invariably looked upon as a source of amusement for most of the others, and the fun which flowed like an electric current came very near making them forget the good things before them, and the big dining-room full of people found themselves sympathetically affected, each gay bit of laughter, each enthusiastic comment finding an answering smile at some table. as nearly every member of the first class had gone on christmas leave, the few who happened to be in annapolis having remained as the guests of friends, there was a very perceptible thinning out of ranks over in bancroft that afternoon. nevertheless, mrs. harold had announced an informal tea from four to six and "general liberty" enabled all who chose to do so to attend it. and many chose! but in the interval between luncheon and four o 'clock mrs. harold "barred out the masculine population" and carried her girls upstairs to change their gowns for her tea. it was during the "prinking process" that some very characteristic comments were made upon the masculine guests now enjoying their post-prandial cigars, or cigarettes, in the smoking-room, below stairs. mrs. harold was in her element listening to the girls' frank comments. "oh, i know i'm going to have the very time of my life, mrs. harold," exclaimed natalie, giving a little bounce of rapture. "mr. porter is certainly a remarkably handsome man," was juno's complacent comment. "but, mrs. harold, aren't first classmen really--well--don't they come in for greater privileges? rate more? is that what you say down here?" "of course. especially a five-striper, juno. you'd better cultivate guy bennett. it's a great distinction to profit by a five-striper's favors. there are three girls in annapolis who have reduced that sort of cultivation to a science and if you manage to rival them you will have scored a point, sure enough." "how many five-stripers are there?" asked stella. "only one, happily, or the girls to whom i allude would have nervous prostration. but the four and three-stripers save the day for them. nothing below is worth cultivating." "don't polly and peggy 'cultivate' the stripers!" asked rosalie. "that depends," was mrs. harold's cryptic answer as an odd smile caused her lips to twitch. "last year's five-striper and a good many other stripers, were with us constantly, and i miss them more than i like to dwell upon. this year's? well--i shall endeavor to survive their departure." "oh, but don't you just love them all!" cried rosalie. "which, the midshipmen or the stripes?" asked polly. "why, the midshipmen, of course!" "i think a whole lot of some of the boys--yes, of a good many, but there are some whom i wouldn't miss much, i reckon." "oh, i think you are perfectly heartless, polly. they are just the darlingest men i ever met." with what unction the word "men" rolled from rosalie's tongue. "men" had not figured very largely in rosalie's world, and mrs. harold chuckled inwardly at the thought of classing rosalie's particular little jean paul, in the category of grown-ups; anything more essentially boyish, and full to the brim of madcap pranks, than the eighteen-year-old jean paul, it would have been hard to picture. mrs. harold had dispatched notes to helen and lily pearl asking them in peggy's and polly's name to be present at her little tea that afternoon, to meet several of the midshipmen, and, if they cared to do so, to bring with them the men who were taking them to the hop. she did not know who these men were. shortly after four helen and lily pearl arrived in a flutter. mrs. harold had not felt it incumbent upon her to include foxy grandpa, concluding that he could find diversion for an hour or two while his charges were with their school-chums. when helen and lily arrived upon the scene, mrs. harold's face was a study. foxy grandpa was evidently too dull to be critical and columbia heights was at a safe distance. both lily pearl and helen were gotten up regardless. each wore extravagant gowns, each had done up her hair and supplemented it by wonderful creations of false puffs. each wore dangling ear-rings and the complexion of each girl had been "assisted." poor mrs. harold felt as though a couple of chorus girls had invaded her little sanctum, and peggy and polly were furious. but it was too late then to retreat and a few moments later the midshipmen began to pour into the sitting-room, the two who were to take helen and lily being men whom mrs. harold had always avoided, feeling that they were no companions for the frank, unaffected girls she loved so dearly. she resolved to keep her eye piped. it was a merry afternoon. rosalie scintillated, and her scintillation proved infectious for jean paul, upon whom she had made a deep impression at thanksgiving; he instantly appropriated her, greatly to mrs. harold's amusement, for she was never too fully occupied to notice significant signs. quiet, dignified bert taylor had promptly taken bonny natalie under his serene protection. and juno! well she was sorely divided between doug's towering seventy-four inches and gordon's sixty-nine, though she strove to conceal the exaltation which her uniformed gallants stirred in her soul by bringing to bear upon them all the superlative superiority which she had studied as the acme of success in the habitues of the hotel astor. with douglas it worked to a charm. he rose to the corresponding rã´le as a trout to a fly, but poor gordon was only too thankful when the companionship and conversation became more general. the superior young lady from the metropolis was beyond his ken. little nelly bolivar's sweetness and quaint humor filled his ideals to far greater satisfaction. he had met nelly first at severndale and several times since with mrs. harold, who had often invited her to spend the weekend at wilmot, where she had looked to the young girl's welfare, knowing how much she must miss peggy this winter. nelly was simply dressed in a gown which had once been peggy's, for most of peggy's garments went to nelly, but were given so sweetly and with such evident love, that not even the most sensitive nature could have been wounded, and they were a real blessing to her. no one ever commented upon the fact and before going to columbia heights, nelly had spent many a busy hour with mrs. harold remodeling and working like a little beaver under that good friend's guidance, for nelly was a skilful little needlewoman. as a result, no girl in the school was more suitably gowned. the only girls who had eyed her critically were lily pearl, helen and juno. the first because she was too shallow to do aught but follow helen's lead, and juno from a naturally critical disposition. juno meant to hold her favor somewhat in reserve. she intended first to see what nelly's standing at severndale proved. she might be polly's and peggy's friend--well and good--but who was she? would she find a welcome among the delacys, the vanderstacks, the dryers and heaven knows which-or-whats of new york's glitterers? juno was hardly in a position to gauge her standards by those who represented the big city's finest and best. she saw the patrons of the great hotels and moved among them, but of new york's sterling worth, she was as ignorant as a babe. its superficial glamour and glitter, as well as its less desirable contingent, which she was not sufficiently experienced in the world's ways to fully understand, made the strongest appeal to her. poor little nelly bolivar would have been a modest, sleek little junco compared with the birds of paradise (?), cockatoos, and pheasants of juno's world, but of all this nelly was quite unaware and too happy in her present surroundings to care. it was a merry afternoon for all, but a diversion was created by polly, shortly before it ended. she was at the tea-table pouring, and talking to ralph like a phonograph, when mrs. harold became aware of a horrible odor, and cried: "what under the sun smells so abominably? why, polly howland, look at my perfectly good teakettle! it is red hot, and--horrors--there isn't one drop of water in it!" true enough, absorbed in her conversation with ralph, polly had completely overlooked the trifling detail of keeping her kettle filled, though the alcohol lamp beneath it was doing its duty most lampfully. damages repaired and the kettle at length filled and singing merrily, the gay little gathering took slight note of time, but soon after four bells struck in the tower clock, mrs. harold began to "round up" her masculine guests, for she had no notion of their being late for formation. "take your places in the 'firing line!'" she ordered. "oh, there's loads of time, little mother!" came in protest from jean paul. "time to burn," from dick allyn, who found stella mighty entertaining. "now, little mother, you're not going to be so hard-hearted as to turn us out early tonight! why, it's weeks since we've had the girls here," wheedled durand. "can't help it. out you all go! there's too much at stake just now to risk any demerits." "at stake? what's at stake, little mother?" were the eager questions. "can't tell you a single thing now. i'm tongue-tied until captain stewart passes the word." "oh, what is it? please come across with it, little mother. when may we know," begged ralph. "at formation tonight perhaps. no use teasing! join the firing line!" and with the command of a general mrs. harold shooed her brood out into the corridor, where overcoats and caps hung. they were used to these sudden dismissals, and so were polly and peggy, who were too familiar with all that which must be crowded into a limited amount of time not to appreciate what it meant to have "the decks cleared" when necessary. but rosalie, natalie, juno, marjorie, stella and the other girls accepted the new order of things with divers emotions. rosalie giggled, natalie's face expressed wonder. juno's was just a shade critical, marjorie and stella smiled. "gee, if we obeyed all orders with as good grace as we obey the little mother's what models we'd be," was jean paul's jerky comment as he struggled into an overcoat, his eyes still fixed upon rosalie's winsome face. meanwhile, doug porter was clawing about among the coats to find his own, but happening to glance at jean paul, shouted: "well, i'll be hanged! say, how is it to get out of my coat, bantam?" true enough, the garment into which the wee man was wriggling trailed upon the carpet, but jean paul was in a realm where overcoats 'never were or e'er had been.' at six-fifteen the lingering good-byes had been said and mrs. harold had dismissed those who constituted the "firing line," the name having been bestowed by wheedles when he first witnessed the promptitude with which mrs. harold sent her boys to the right-about in order to avoid demerits for tardiness. "why must they rush back on the very minute?" asked rosalie, when all were gone, half inclined to resent an order of things which deprived her of her gallant jean sans ceremony. "discipline! discipline! little lady," laughed mrs. harold, coming up behind rosalie and turning the piquant face up to hers. "i should think they'd feel like a lot of school boys to be ordered about so," was juno's rather petulant comment. "better feel 'like a lot of schoolboys' here, than like a lot of simpletons when they 'hit the tree,'" was mrs. harold's merry reply. "you've a whole lot to learn about regulations, my bonny lassie." it was all said so kindly and so merrily that juno could not resent it. "but when will they learn about their leave? and if they are to go out to severndale tonight how will they manage?" asked rosalie eagerly. "trust daddy neil to manage that. when they get back they'll be called to the office and the officer in charge will notify them of what has taken place and give them their orders." "oh, i don't think i can possibly wait to hear what they'll say!" cried polly. "i never, never knew such a lovely thing to happen before." chapter xiv at severndale "my goodness!" cried rosalie, "i thought i knew peggy stewart, but the peggy stewart we know at columbia heights, and the peggy stewart we saw at wilmot, and the peggy stewart we've found here are three different people!" "and if you stay here long enough you'll know still another peggy stewart," nodded polly sagely. "she is a wonder no matter where you find her," said nelly quietly, "and she grows to be more and more of a wonder the longer you know her." "how long have you been observing this wonderful wonder?" asked juno. "i think peggy stewart has held my interest from the first moment we came to live at severndale," was nelly's perfectly truthful, though not wholly enlightening, answer. juno thought the evasion intentional and looked at her rather sharply. she was more than curious to see nelly's home and father, and wondered if the party would be invited there. the christmas hop, which had been a paradise within flag-draped walls for captain stewart's guests, was numbered among delights passed, but so many more were in store and the grand climax of the year, the new year's eve hop, though, alack! it had to be given on the night of december thirtieth instead of the thirty-first, was looked forward to with eagerness. the party had come out to severndale by a special car at twelve-thirty, and a "madder, merrier" group of young people it would have been hard to find. upon their return to bancroft hall after mrs. harold's summary dismissal from "middie's haven" the previous saturday night, ralph, jean paul, durand, bert, gordon and doug had been ordered to report at the office and had it not been for the hint given at the tea, would have gone in trepidation of spirit. but it so happened that the officer in charge was possessed of a flickering memory of his own midshipman days, and his twinkling eyes and cheerful grin were reassuring. the boys all openly adored him, and even though they had dubbed him _hercules_ hugh, would have formed a door mat of their bodies had he hinted a desire for it. when the lucky six finally grasped the fact that captain stewart had actually obtained forty-eight hours liberty for them, and they were to go out to severndale with the house-party, some startling things came very near taking place right in the o c's office. luckily the favored ones restrained themselves until they reached durand's room on the third deck, where a vent promptly presented itself, and is too good a story to leave untold. naturally at christmas, innumerable boxes of "eats" are shipped to the midshipmen from all over the united states, their contents usually governed by the section of the world from which they are forwarded. new england invariably sends its quota of mince pies, roast turkeys and the viands which furnish forth a new england table at yuletide. the south and west send their special dishes. durand's aunt belle never failed him. each holiday found a box at bancroft addressed to the lad who was so dear to her, and it was always regarded as public property by durand's friends, who never hesitated to open it and regale themselves, sure that the generous owner of the "eats" would be only too glad to share with them everything he owned. but like most generous souls, durand was often imposed upon, and this year the imposition went to the very limit. while durand and his friends were over in wilmot hall his box was rifled, but it could hardly have been said to have been done by his friends, several men who had counted upon "bubbles being a good old scout" having made way with practically everything the box contained. when he returned to his room the turkey carcass, picked clean as though buzzards had fallen upon it, rested forlornly upon its back in the middle of his study table. it was well for him that the midshipman on duty in his corridor had been one of the marauders, otherwise he would have been speedily reported for that which followed. when the yelling, shouting bunch rushed into durand's room they stopped short and a few expletives expressed their opinions of the pirates. but durand's wits worked quickly. catching up the denuded bird by its greasy neck and giving the yell of a comanche, he rushed out into the corridor waving his weapon over his head like a war club. the man on duty at the table at the end of the corridor saw him coming and needed no further hint that his nemesis was upon him. regardless of duty or anything else, he bounded from his chair and fled around the corner of the corridor, the turkey carcass speeding after him with unerring aim. had he remained within range he would have received all and more than his share of the bird. unluckily, a divisional officer had chosen that moment to turn into the corridor, and the turkey whizzed over his head, for he was one very tiny man. durand did not wait to make inquiries. he had not removed cap or overcoat, a window was close at hand, the window of the adjoining room was accessible to one as agile as durand, and the next second he was out of one and through the other, leaving his friends to make explanations. why it did not result in durand and all the others losing those precious forty-eight hours of liberty, only their special guardian spirits were in a position to explain, but they kept discreetly silent. the men in durand's room could truthfully declare that they had not had a thing to do with the launching of that extraordinary projectile and also that durand was not in his room. it was not necessary to be too explicit, they felt, and twenty minutes later all were over at middie's haven, guy bennett and richard allyn, to juno's secret disgust, having shifted into civilian clothes as was the privilege of the first classmen "on leave," the difference between "leave" and "liberty" being very great indeed. stella, although admiring the uniforms, was tantalizingly uncritical. the girls could never quite understand stella's lack of enthusiasm over the midshipmen. and so had passed that joyful evening of the christmas hop, the biggest surprise of all awaiting them up at round bay upon the arrival of the car at that station. nearly every horse and vehicle at severndale had been pressed into service to carry its guests from the station, and mounted on shashai and star, jess having brought them home for the holidays, were happy and wheedles. they had been unable to leave their ships as soon as shorty, so taking a later train had gone directly to severndale. their welcome by peggy and polly was a royal one. when the party arrived at severndale another surprise greeted it as a very fat, very much-at-home boston bull-terrier came tumbling down the steps to greet them. to all but polly he was an alien and a stranger. polly paused just one second, then cried as she gathered the little beast into her arms, regardless of the evening wrap she was wearing: "oh, rhody! rhody! who brought you?" as though to answer her question, rhody rolled his pop-eyes toward wheedles. of the happy sunday and happier christmas day space is too limited to tell. at five p. m. durand, ralph, jean paul, bert, gordon and doug were obliged to bid their hostesses adieu and return to annapolis, but each day of christmas week held its afternoon informal dance at the auditorium, to which mrs. harold escorted her party, the mornings being given over to work by the midshipmen, and to all manner of frolicing out at severndale by happy, wheedles, and shortie, who seemed to have returned to their fun-loving, care-free undergraduate days. yet how the boys had changed in their seven months as passed-midshipmen. although full of their fun and pranks, running peggy and polly unmercifully, showing many little courtesies to nelly whom all had grown to love during the old days, and playing the gay gallants to the other girls, there was a marked change from the happy-go-lucky wheedles, the madcap happy, and the quaint, odd shortie of bancroft days. but shortie's interest was unquestionably centered on one golden-haired little lady, and many a long ride did they take through the lovely country about severndale. captain stewart watched proceedings with a wise smile. gail and shortie were prime favorites of his. happy and wheedles had to do duty for many during the morning hours, but the girls' especial escorts were punctual to the minute when the launch from severndale ran up to the maryland avenue float at three-forty-five each afternoon, and they had no cause to complain of a lack of attention, for many beside those who had been invited to severndale were eager for dances with little gypsy rosalie, tall, stately stella, winsome natalie, shy marjorie or the scornful juno, whose superiority was considered a big joke. during their week in annapolis helen and lily pearl had made tremendous strides in a certain way. foxy grandpa had met a gushing, gracious widow, who made wilmot her home. that the lady's hair was of a shade rarely produced by nature, and her complexion as unusual as her innumerable puffs and curls, foxy grandpa was too dull of sight and mind to perceive. he had gone through life somewhat side-tracked by more brilliant, interesting people, and to find someone who flattered him and fluttered about him with the coyness of eighteen years, when three times eighteen would hardly have sufficed to number her milestones, went to the old gentleman's head like wine, and he became mrs. ring's slave to the vast amusement of everyone in wilmot. and mrs. ring promptly took helen and lily pearl under her chaperonage, introduced her son, a midshipman, to them, who in turn introduced his room-mate, and a charming sextet was promptly formed. poor mrs. vincent was likely to have some lively experiences as the result of that christmas holiday, for paul ring and charles purdy were one rare pair of susceptible simpletons, if nothing worse. and so passed the week at severndale for mrs. harold's party, peggy once more the gracious little chatelaine, sure of herself and entertaining her guests like a little queen, a perfect wonder to the other girls. polly was happy as a grig, and all the others equally so. the older people rejoiced in this rare reunion, and captain stewart each day grew more devoted to his "howland bunch" as he called them. the three girls openly adored him, and dainty, quiet little mrs. howland beamed upon everyone, little guessing how often the good captain's eyes rested upon her when she was unaware of it, or how he was learning to esteem the mother of the three young girls whom he pronounced "jewels of the purest water." but that lies in the future. it is once more saturday morning and once more a big dance is pending to which all are going. this time shortie was taking gail, wheedles had asked stella, happy was looking after juno, polly would go with ralph, peggy with durand, rosalie would have cried her eyes out had any one save jean paul been her gay gallant, natalie was bert's charge, marjorie and big doug had become good chums, and, of course, gordon powers had made sure of nelly's company. as this was to be the most magnificent affair of the holiday season, it had been decided to drive into annapolis directly after luncheon, attend a matinee to be given at the one funny little theatre the town boasted, and for which mrs. harold had secured three stalls in order to include "the bunch," then to go to wilmot to dine and dress, mammy, harrison and jerome having been intrusted with the transportation of the suitcases containing the evening finery. all went merry as a marriage bell. when the matinee ended the boys were sent to the right about and the girls hurried to their rooms to make their toilets, for a six-thirty dinner had been ordered and everybody would be present. as the girls, excepting stella and gail, were all under seventeen, and still to make their formal bows to the big social world, their gowns were all of short, dancing length, juno's excepted. juno was a good deal of a law unto herself in the matter of raiment. her father supplied her with all the spending money she asked for, and charge accounts at several of the large new york shops and at a fashionable modiste's, completed her latitude. there would be very little left for juno to arrive at when she made her dã©but. there was no time for comment or correction when the girls emerged from their rooms to accompany the older people to the dining-room, but at sight of juno's gown mrs. harold's color grew deeper, and for a moment her teeth pressed her lower lip as though striving to hold back her words. juno and rosalie shared one room but rosalie had known nothing of the contents of juno's suitcase until it came time for them to dress, then her black eyes had nearly popped out of their sockets, for certainly juno's gown was a startling creation for a school-girl. needless to add, the one which she was supposed to have taken to annapolis had been replaced by the present one at the last moment, and mrs. vincent was not even aware that juno possessed such a gown as the one she was then wearing. it was a beautiful pearl white charmeuse, cut low in front and with a v in the back which clearly testified to the fact that the wearer was _not_ afflicted with spinal curvature. its trimmings were of exquisite lace and crystals sufficiently elaborate for a bride, and the skirt was one of the clinging, narrow, beaver-tailed train affairs which render walking about as graceful as the gait of a hobbled-horse, and dancing an utter impossibility unless the gown is held up. it was a most advanced style, out-parisianing the parisian. when juno prepared to get into it, even rosalie, charming beyond words in a pink chiffon, had cried: "why, juno gibson, it's lucky for you mrs. vincent isn't here. you'd never go to the hop in that dress." "well, she isn't here, so calm yourself." but the climax came as they were crossing wilmot's reception hall on their way up from dinner. mrs. harold was walking just behind her flock, peggy with her, fully conscious of the tension matters had assumed, for modest little peggy had been too closely associated with polly and mrs. harold not to have stored away considerable rational worldly knowledge and some very sane ideas. as they were about to ascend the stairs juno with well affected indifference caught up her train, thereby revealing the latest idiosyncrasy of the feminine toilet. she wore silver slippers and black silk tights and had quite dispensed with petticoats. the stage and the hotel astor had developed juno's knowledge of _la mode en rã¨gle_ at a galloping pace. some of the girls gave little gasps, and amused smiles flitted across the faces of the people within range. mrs. harold colored to her forehead. when they reached her corridor she said to juno: "little girl, will you come into my room a moment?' "certainly, if you wish it, mrs. harold," was the reply in a tone which meant that juno had instantly donned her armor of repulsion seating herself upon a low chair, mrs. harold drew a hassock to her side, motioning juno to it. the seat might have been accepted with a better grace. mrs. harold took the lovely, rebellious face in both her hands, pressed her lips to the frowning forehead, and said gently: "honey, smoothe them out, please, and, remember that what i am about to say to you is said because peggy's and polly's friends are mine and i love them. yes, and wish them to learn to love me if possible. nothing is dearer to me than my young people and i long to see all that is best and finest developed in them. you have come to me as a guest, dear, but you have also come to me as my foster-daughter pro tem, and as such, claim my affectionate interest in your well-being. mother and daughter are precious names." there was a slight pause, in which juno gave an impatient toss of her handsome head and asked in a bitterly ironical voice: "are they? i am afraid i'm not very well prepared to judge." mrs. harold looked keenly at the girl, a light beginning to dawn upon her, though she had heard little of juno's history. "dear heart, forgive me if i wounded you. it was unintentional. i know nothing of earlier experiences, you know. you are just polly's friend to me. perhaps some day, if you can learn to love and trust me, you will let me understand why i have wounded. that is for another time and season. just now we have but a few moments in which to 'get near' each other, as my boys would say, and i am going to make a request which may displease you. my little girl, will you accept some suggestions regarding your toilet?" "i dare say you think it is too grown-up for me. i know i'm not supposed to wear a low gown or a train." "i'm afraid i should be tempted to say the gown had been sent to you before it had grown-up enough," smiled mrs. harold. "and certainly some of its accessories must have been overlooked or forgotten altogether." "why, nobody wears anything but tights under a ball gown nowadays. how would it fit with skirts all bunched up under it? as to the neck, it is no lower than one sees at the opera at home. i know a dozen people who wear gowns made in exactly the same way, and madam marie would expire if i did not follow her dictates--why, she would never do a bit more work for me." "then i beg of you, outrage the lady's ideas forthwith, for--" mrs. harold laid her hand upon juno's--"no dressmaker living should have the power to place a refined, modest little girl in a false position, or lower her womanly standards and ideals. not only hers, dear, but what is vastly more far-reaching, the ideals of the boys and men with whom she is thrown. you are too young to fully appreciate this; you could hardly interpret some of the comments which are sure to be made upon the ballroom floor from those who are somewhat lacking in finer feeling; nor can you gauge the influence a truly modest girl--i do not mean an ignorantly prudish one, for a limited knowledge of the facts of life is a dangerous thing--has over such lads as you meet." "you have a beautiful hand, dear," continued mrs. harold, taking juno's tapering, perfectly manicured fingers in hers. "it is faultless. make it as strong as faultless, for remember--nothing has greater power figuratively. you hold more in this pretty hand than equal franchise can ever confer upon you. see that right now you help to make the world purer--your sisters who would have the ballot are using this crying need as their strongest argument--by avoiding in word or deed anything which can dethrone you in the esteem of the other sex, whether young or mature, for you can never know how far-reaching it will prove. you think i am too sweeping in my assertion? that you never have and never could do anything to invite criticism? dear heart, not intentionally, i know, but in the very fact that you are innocent of the influence which--say such a gown as you are now wearing, for an illustration--may have, lies the harm you do. if you fully understand you would sooner go to the hop tonight gowned in sackcloth; of this i am certain." for a moment juno did not speak. this little human craft was battling with conflicting currents and there seemed no pilot in sight. then she turned suddenly and placing her arms about mrs. harold, laid her head upon the shoulder which had comforted so many and began to sob softly. "my little girl! my dear, dear little girl, do not take it so deeply to heart. i did not mean to wound you so cruelly. forgive me, dear." "you haven't wounded me. it isn't that. but i--i--don't seem to know where i'm at. no one has ever spoken to me in this way. i'm often scolded and lectured and stormed at, but no one cares enough to make me understand. please show me how. please tell me. it seems like a glimpse into a different world." "first let me dry the tears i have been the cause of bringing to your eyes--if my boys see traces of them i shall be brought to an account. then we will remedy what might have done harm." as she spoke mrs. harold took a bit of absorbent cotton, soaked it in rose water and bathed the lovely soft, brown eyes. juno smiled up at her, then nestled against her, again. "my new little foster-daughter," said mrs. harold, kissing the velvety cheeks. "'it's beauty, truly blent, whose red and white, nature's own sweet and cunning hand laid on.' keep it so--it needs no aid--we shall learn to know each other better. you will come again--yes, often--and where i can help, count upon me--always? and now i'll play maid." ten minutes later when juno entered the living-room, an exquisite bit of venetian lace filled in the v at the back of the bodice; the softest white maline edged the front, and when, she raised her train a lace petticoat which any girl would have pronounced "too sweet for words" floated like sea-foam about her slender ankles. no comments were made and all set forth for the hop. and was the experiment a red letter one? well! chapter xv in spring term "well, we all came back to earth with a thud, didn't we? but, was there ever anything like it while it lasted," ended natalie with a rapturous sigh. "and do you suppose there can ever be anything like it again?" rosalie's tone suggested funeral wreaths and deep mourning, but she continued to brush her hair with peggy's pretty ivory-handled brush, and pose before peggy's mirror. the girls were not supposed to dress in each other's rooms but suppositions frequently prove fallacies in a girl's school and these girls had vast mutual interests past and pending. several weeks had passed since the christmas holidays, but the joys of that memorable house-party were still very vivid memories and recalled almost daily. it was the hour before dinner. the girls were expected to be ready promptly at six-fifteen, but dressing hour might more properly have been termed gossiping hour, since it was more often given over to general discussions, stella's pretty room, or peggy's and polly's, proving as a rule a rendezvous. all of the severndale house party were assembled at the moment, and two or three others beside, among them isabel, helen and lily pearl. "i hope there may be a good many times like it again," said peggy warmly. "it was just lovely to have you all down there and daddy neil was the happiest thing i've ever seen. i wish we could have him at easter, but he will be far away when easter comes." "shall you go home at easter?" asked helen, flickering hopes of an invitation darting across her mind. "i hardly think so. you see it is only two weeks off and the little mother has not said anything about it, has she, polly?" "no, in her last letter she said she thought she'd come down to washington for easter week and stop at the willard, but it is not settled yet. i'd rather be in annapolis at easter and go for some of our long rides. wasn't it fun to have shashai and silver star back there during our visit! i believe they and tzaritza and jess had the very time of their young--and old--lives. and wasn't tzaritza regal with rhody?" "it was the funniest thing i've ever seen," laughed stella. "that dog acted exactly like a royal princess entertaining a happy-go-lucky jackie. rhody's life on board the _rhode island_ since you and ralph rescued him seems to have been one gay and festive experience for a boston bull pup." "it surely has," concurred polly. "snap says he's just wise to everything, and did you ever see anything so absurd as those clown tricks the jackies taught him?" "i think you are all perfectly wonderful people, dogs and horses included," was rosalie's climax of eulogy, if rather peculiar and comprehensive. "well, we had one royal good time and we are not likely to forget it either. peggy, weren't you petrified when you struck 'eight bells' at the hop, for the death of the old year? goodness, when those lights began to go out, and everybody stopped dancing i felt so queer. and when 'taps' sounded little shivery creeps went all up and down my spine, and you struck eight bells so beautifully! but reveille drove me almost crazy. when the lights flashed on again i didn't know whether i wanted to laugh or cry i was so nervous," was natalie's reminiscence. "it was the most solemn thing i ever heard and the most beautiful," said marjorie softly. "it made me homesick, and yet home doesn't mean anything to me; this is the only one i have known since i was eight years old." "eight years in one place and a school at that!" cried juno. "why, i should have done something desperate long before four had passed. girls, think of being in a school eight years." juno's tone implied the horrors of the bastile. "if you had no other, what could you do?" marjorie's question was asked with a smile which was sadder than tears could have been. juno shrugged her shoulders, but polly slipped over to marjorie's side and with one of polly's irresistible little mannerisms, laid her arm across her shoulder, as hundreds of times the boys in bancroft demonstrate their good fellowship for each other. another girl would probably have kissed her. polly was not given to kisses. then she asked: "won't your father come east this spring for commencement? you said you hoped he would. "i've hoped so every spring, but when he writes he says it takes four whole months to reach washington from that awful place in the klondyke. i wish he had never heard of it." "i'm so glad you went to severndale with us. we must never let her be lonely or homesick again, peggy." "not while severndale has a spare hammock," nodded peggy. marjorie was more or less of a mystery to most of the girls, but the greatest of all to mrs. vincent to whom she had come the year the school was opened. mrs. vincent had more than once said to herself: "well, i certainly have four oddities to deal with: _who_ is marjorie? she is one of the sweetest, most lovable girls i've ever met, but i don't really know a single thing about her. she has come to me from the home of a perfectly reliable congregational minister, but even he confesses that he knows nothing beyond the fact that she is the daughter of a man lost to civilization in the remotest regions of the klondyke. he says he believes her mother is dead. heigho! and juno? what is likely to become of _her_, poor child? what does become of all the children of divorced parents in this land of divorces? oh, why can't the parents think of the children they have brought into the world but who did not ask to come? "and rosalie? what is to become of that little pepper pot with all her loving impulses and self-will? i believe her father has visited her for about one hour in each of the four years she has been here, and i also believe his visits do more harm than good, they seem to enrage the child so. of course, it is all wounded pride and affection, but who is to correct it? and this year comes stella, the biggest puzzle of all. her father? well, i dare say it is all right, but he sometimes acts more like--" but at this point mrs. vincent invariably had paused abruptly and turned her attention to other matters. "can't the boys ever get leave to visit their friends?" asked lily pearl. "i think it is perfectly outrageous to keep them stived up in that horrid place year in and year out for four years with only four months to call their own in one-thousand-four-hundred-and-sixty days!" "lily's been doing the multiplication table," cried rosalie. "well, i counted and i think it's awful--simply awful!" lamented lily. "i'd give anything to see charlie purdy and have another of those ravishing dances. i can just feel his arms about me yet, and the way he snuggles your head up against him and nestles his face down in your hair--m--m--m! why, his clothes smell so deliciously of cigarette smoke! i can smell it yet!" a howl of laughter greeted this rhapsody from all but helen, who bridled and protested: "oh, you girls may laugh, but you had to walk a chalk line under the eyes of a half dozen chaperones every minute. lily and i got acquainted with our friends." "well, i hope we did have a chaperone or two," was polly's retort. she had vivid memories of some of the scenes upon which she and ralph had inadvertently blundered during the afternoon informals of christmas week. the auditorium in the academic building where informals are held, has many secluded nooks. upon one occasion she had run upon helen and paul ring, the former languishing in the latter's arms. perhaps mamma would not have been so ready to intrust her dear little daughter to foxy grandpa's protection had she dreamed of the existence of mamma ring and dear paul. at all this sentimental enthusiasm stella had looked on indulgently and now laughed outright, "what silly kids you two are," she said. "well, i don't see that you had such a ravishing time, anyway," cried helen. "why, i'm sure mr. allyn was as attentive as anyone could be. he was on hand every minute to take me wherever i wanted to go." stella's expression was quizzical and made helen furious. "oh, a paid guide could have done as much i don't doubt." "father _is_ a little fussy at times, so perhaps it is just as well. you see i should not have been at severndale at all if he had not been called to mexico on business. so i'd better be thankful for what fun i did get. but there goes the first bell. better get down toward the dining-room, girls," laughed stella good-naturedly, and set the example. a moment later the room was deserted by all but helen who lingered at the mirror. when the others were on their way down stairs she slipped to nelly's room and took from her desk a sheet of the monogram paper and an envelope, which mrs. harold had given her at christmas. as she passed her own room she hid them in her desk for future use. after dinner when the evening mail was delivered, helen received a letter bearing the annapolis postmark. nelly had one from her father. as she read it her face wore a peculiar expression. the letter stated that her father was coming to washington to consult with shelby concerning a matter of business connected with severndale's paddock. as nelly ceased reading she glanced up from her letter to find peggy watching her narrowly. peggy had also received a letter from dr. llewellyn in which he mentioned the fact that bolivar felt it advisable to run down to washington. in an instant the whole situation flashed across peggy's quick comprehension. during the girl's visit at severndale jim bolivar had never come to the house. nelly had many times slipped away for quiet little talks with her father in their own cottage and had asked him more than once why he did not come up to the big house to see her, and his reply had invariably been: "honey, i don't belong there. no, 'tain't no use to argue,--i don't. your mother would have; she come of quality stock, and what in the lord's name she ever saw in me i've been, a-guessin' an' a-guessin' for the last eighteen year." "but dad, peggy stewart has never, never made either you or me feel the least shade of difference in our stations. neither has polly howland. they couldn't be lovelier to me, though i know you have never been at severndale as guests have been there. but it has never seemed to strike me until now. and down at the school the girls are awfully nice to me; at least, most of them are. those who are patronizing are that way because they are so to everybody. but the really nice girls are lovely, and i am sure they'd never think of being rude to you." "little girl, listen to your old dad: there are some things in this world not to be got around. i'm one of 'em. peggy stewart and polly howland are thoroughbreds an' thoroughbreds ain't capable of no low-down snobbishness. they know their places in the world and there's nothing open to discussion. an' they're too fine-grained to scratch other folks the wrong way. but, some of them girls up yonder are cross-breeds--oh, yes, i've been a-watchin' 'em an' i know,--tain't no use to argue. they kin prance an' cavort an' their coats are sleek an' shinin', but don't count on 'em too much when it comes right down to disposition an' endurance, 'cause they'll disappoint you. i ain't never told you honey, that your mother was a bladen. well, she was. some day i'm going to tell you how she fell in love with a good-lookin' young skalawag by the name o' jim bolivar. he comes o' pretty decent stock too, only he hadn't sense enough to stay at st. john's where his dad put him, but had to go rampagin' all over the country till he'd clean forgot any bringin'-up he'd ever had, and landed up as a sort o' bailiff, as they call 'em over in the old country, on an estate down on the eastern shore. then he met helen bladen and 's sure's you live she 'changed the name and not the letter and changed for a heap sight worse 'n the better' when she eloped with me. thank the lord she didn't live long enough to see the worst, and you hardly remember her at all. but that's my pretty history,--a no-count, ne'er do well, and if it weren't for peggy stewart, god bless her! you'd a been lyin' 'long side o' yo' ma out yonder this minute, for all i'd ever a-done to keep you here, i reckon, much less give you the education you're a-gettin' now. no, honey, i won't go up to the great house. if i'd a-done right when i was a boy i'd be sittin' right up there with the rest o' that bunch o' people this minute. but i was bound to have my fling, and sow my wild oats and now i can have the pleasure of harvestin' my crop. it ought to be thistles, for if ever there was a jackass that same was jim bolivar." nelly had listened to the pitiful tale without comment, but when it ended she placed her arms about her father's neck and sobbed softly. she had never mentioned this little talk to anyone, but it was seldom far from her thoughts, and now her father was coming to washington. peggy slipped her arm about her and asked: "what makes you look so sober, nellibus?" "because i'm a silly, over-sensitive goose, i dare say." peggy looked puzzled. nelly handed her her father's letter. peggy read it, then turned to look straight into nelly's eyes, her own growing dark as she raised her head in the proud little poise which made her so like her mother's portrait. "when he comes i think matters will adjust themselves," was all she said. the following friday afternoon jim bolivar was ushered into the pretty little reception room by horatio hannibal, who went in quest of nelly. as she had no idea of the hour her father would arrive, she was preparing to go for a ride with a number of the girls, for the day was a heavenly one; a late march spring day in washington. "miss bol'var, yo' pa in de 'ception room waitin' fo' to see yo', miss," announced horatio. "i'll go right down. sorry i can't go with you, girls." "may we come and see him just a minute before we start!" asked peggy quickly, while polly came eagerly to her side. "of course you may. dad will love to see you," was nelly's warm response. "we won't keep you waiting long, girls," said peggy, "we'll join you at the porte cochere." arrayed in their habits, peggy, polly and nelly hurried away. "wonder what he looks like," said juno idly as she drew on her gauntlets. "bet he's nice if he's anything like nelly," said rosalie. "isn't it funny you girls never saw him while you were at severndale?" said lily pearl. "perhaps he's not the kind nelly bolivar cares to have seen," was helen's amiable remark, accompanied by a shrug and a knowing look. "why, what do you mean, helen?" asked natalie with some spirit. "just what i say. _i_ believe nelly bolivar is as poor as job's turkey and that peggy stewart pays all 'her expenses here. and i know she wears peggy's cast-off clothes. i saw peggy's name in one of her coats. you know peggy has her name and the maker's woven right into the linings. just you wait and see what her father looks like and then see if i'm far wrong." "why, she's nothing better than a charity pupil if that's true," sneered lily pearl, who never failed to follow helen's lead. "if mrs. vincent opens her school to such girls i think it would be well for our parents to investigate the matter," was isabel's superior criticism. "yes, you'd better. mother would be delighted to have an extra room or two; she has so many applicants all the time," flashed natalie, her cheeks blazing. "children, children, don't grow excited. wait until you find out what you're fuming about," said stella in the tone which always made them feel like kids, rosalie insisted. "and come on down. the horses have been waiting twenty minutes already and mrs. vincent will have a word or two to say to us if we don't watch out." as they crossed the hall to the porte cochere, peggy, polly and nelly came from the reception room, mr. bolivar with them. the lively curiosity upon the girls' faces was rather amusing. juno favored him with a well-cultivated fifth avenue stare. helen's nose took a higher tilt if possible. lily pearl giggled as usual. stella smiled at the girls and said: "glad you're coming with us." isabel murmured "horrors!" under her breath and waddled with what she believed to be dignity toward the door. marjorie only smiled, but rosalie and natalie stopped, the former crying impulsively: "introduce your father to us, nelly; we want to know him." the man the girls looked upon had changed a good deal from the despondent jim bolivar whom peggy had seen sitting upon the upturned box in market square so long ago. prosperity and resultant comforts had done a good deal for the despairing man. there were still some traces of the handsome jim bolivar with whom pretty, romantic helen bladen had eloped, though the intermediate years of sorrow and misfortune had changed that dapper young beau into a careless, hopeless pessimist. what the end might have been but for peggy is hard to guess, but the past two years had made him think and think hard too. though still slipshod of speech as the result of associating with his humbler neighbors, he was certainly making good, and few lapses occurred as he shook hands with nelly's friends and then went out to help them mount. in his dark gray suit, alpine hat and his gray gloves, something of the gentleman which was in him became evident. he helped each girl upon her horse, greeted junius augustus, patted shashai, star and tzaritza; deplored poor columbine's shorn glories, smiled an odd smile at isabel's bulky figure upon the more bulky senator, then said: "i'll see you when you come back, honey. i've got to have a talk with shelby. some things is--are--bothering me back yonder. have a fine gallop. it's a prime day for it. good-bye, young ladies," and raising his hat with something of the gallantry of the old bolivar he followed junius toward the stables. that night mrs. vincent asked him to dine with her, but he declined on the score of an engagement with a friend. he and shelby dined in washington and during that meal he made just one allusion to nelly and her surroundings. "it's all very well for a man to make a plumb fool of himself and waste his life if he's a-mind to, but he ain't got any business to drag other folks along with him. if i hadn't a-been a fool among fools i might a-been sittin' beside my little girl this minute, and not be scared to either, shelby. my dad used to say something about 'man being his own star,' i don't recollect it all, but i know it meant he could be one of the first magnet if he'd a mind to. i set out to be a comet, i reckon, all hot air tail, and there isn't much of me left worth looking at." "how old are you!" "forty-four." "well, you've got twenty-five years to the good yet. now get busy for the little girl's sake." "shake," cried jim bolivar, extending his hand across the table. meanwhile back yonder at the school, friday night being "home letters night" the girls were all busily writing, but helen kept the monogram upon her paper carefully concealed. [illustration] chapter xvi a midnight sensation but two weeks remained of the spring term. school would close on may twenty-eighth. already washington had become insufferably warm, and even columbia heights school situated upon its hill, was very trying. the girls were almost too inert to work and spent every possible moment out of doors. the moment school ended peggy, polly and nelly would go back to annapolis and rosalie was to go with, them as peggy's guest for a month. mrs. harold had invited marjorie, natalie, and juno to be polly's guests for june week under the joint chaperonage of herself and mrs. howland, after which plans were being laid for the entire party to go to provincetown with "all the howland outfit," as captain stewart and mr. harold phrased it, there to live in a bungalow as long as the atlantic fleet made that jumping-off place its rendezvous. it bid fair to be a tremendous house party, though the lads whom the girls had grown to know best would not be there. the practice squadron was going to europe this summer. however, "the old guard" as happy, wheedles and shortie, as well as dozens of others from earlier classes were called, would be there and things were sure to be lively. but all this lies in the future. helen and lily pearl had been invited to annapolis for june week, by mrs. ring, and were to go to the june ball with dear paul and charles purdy. they had not been asked to dance the german since they had made no special friends among the first classmen. peggy and polly were to dance it, one with dick allyn, the other with his room-mate, calhoun byrd, who, in bancroft's vernacular "spooned on ralph" and had always considered polly "a clipper." juno was to go with guy bennett, nelly, rosalie, marjorie and natalie had, alack! to look on from the gallery, escorted by second-classmen. but now of immediate happenings at columbia heights school. it had been arranged that shelby should take shashai, star and tzaritza back to severndale on the twenty-second, as it was now far too warm to ride in washington. moreover, shelby's engagement with mrs. vincent expired may fifteenth and he was anxious to get back to severndale. then at the last moment, mrs. vincent decided to send all the saddle horses to severndale for the summer months and keep only the carriage horses and the white groom at the school. so shelby wrote jim bolivar that "he'd better come along down and get on the job too." consequently, about a week after the girl's visit to annapolis and rosalie's escapade, jim bolivar arrived at the school and took up his quarters in the pretty little cottage provided for shelby. he expected to spend about two days helping to get matters closed up for the summer, then start on with junius augustus in charge of columbine, lady belle, the senator, and jack-o'-lantern, shelby following a day later with shashai, star, madame goldie and old duke. so far so good out in the stables. within the school nelly was learning the difference between being the daughter of patrician blood come upon misfortune, and cheerfully making the best of things, and some extremely plebeian blood slopped unexpectedly into fortune, and trying to forget its origin. had not nelly possessed such loyal old friends as peggy and polly, and made such stanch new ones as rosalie, natalie, stella and marjorie, her position might have been a very trying one. and now only eight days remained before vacation would begin. already the girls were in a flutter for june week at annapolis. would it be fair? would it be scorching hot? would there be moon-light nights? "there'll be moon-light if the old lady has half a chance to show herself," said polly's assured voice and nod. "we had a new moon on the eighteenth," said peggy. "that means brim-full in june week, and, oh, girls, won't it be fairy land! how i wish, though, you were all to dance the german. i can't help feeling selfish to leave you out of that fun." "you aren't leaving us out. we understand that even the little mother can't ask her boys to take a girl to the german! but we aren't likely to pine away with all the other fun afoot," cried natalie gaily, doing a pirouette across the room just by way of relieving pent-up anticipation. "helen said she might be invited to dance the german after all. dear paul's mamma has a grease with a first classman," laughed rosalie. "when i see her on the floor i'll believe it," said juno. "where is helen tonight?" asked marjorie. "up in her room. lily has a sick headache and she went up with her. guess that cousin of helen's who came down from baltimore, foxy grandpa's daughter, or niece, or something, i believe, and spent this afternoon with her, gave those girls too many chocolates. wasn't she the limit? and big? well, i'll wager that woman was six feet tall, and she was made up perfectly outrageously. her skin was fair enough, and her color lovely and i never saw such teeth, if they weren't store ones, but there was something about the lower part of her face that looked queer. did you notice it, girls?" asked polly. "i did. there was such a funny dull tinge, like a man who had just been shaved," commented rosalie, with a puzzled frown. "her voice struck me funniest. do you remember frã¤ulein shultz who was here the first year school opened, marjorie?" asked natalie. "yes, we used to call her herr shultz. such a voice you never heard, girls!" "well, this cousin's was exactly like herr shultz." "her clothes were the climax with me. i believe she must have been on the stage sometime. oh, yes, they were up-to-date enough, but, so sort of--of--tawdry," criticised juno. "do you know, she reminded me of somebody i know but who it is i just can't think," and peggy puckered her forehead into wrinkles. "oh!" cried nelly, then stopped short. "what's the matter? sat on a pin?" asked rosalie, laughing. "something made me jump," answered nelly, pulling her skirt as though in search of the pin rosalie had suggested. then in a moment she said: "reckon i'll go in, girls, i've got to send a note home by father and he starts pretty soon." "why do they start at night?" asked juno. "cooler traveling for the horses. they leave here about eight, travel about nine miles an hour, for two hours, stop at ---for the night, start again at seven in the morning, and will reach severndale by ten o'clock at latest. it seems like a long trip, but that makes it an easy one. shelby will start tomorrow or next day. and won't all those horses have the time of their lives! i am so glad that they're to be there," explained peggy. "so is mother, peggy stewart," cried natalie. meanwhile nelly had gone to her room. it was next helen's and lily's. on beyond was stella's sitting-room. nelly roomed with a girl who had been called home by illness in her family. consequently nelly now had the room to herself. she wrote her note and then went to find mrs. vincent to ask permission to run out to the stables to give it to her father. as she passed helen's and lily's door she heard them whispering together and also heard a deeper voice. whose could it be? it was so unusual that she paused a moment in the dimly lighted hall. she did not mean to be an eavesdropper, but she thought all the girls from the west wing were down on the terrace where she had left them that perfect may night. they had gone out there immediately dinner ended, for study hour had lately been held from five to seven on account of the warm evenings, mrs. vincent objecting to the lights which made the house almost suffocating. presently the deep-voiced whisper was heard again. nelly started as though from an electric shock. had helen's cousin returned, but when? and that whisper was a revelation. then she went on her way. consent was promptly given and nelly ran across the shadow-laden lawn to the stables. she found her father, shelby and the men just preparing to set forth. her father was to ride the senator to set the pace. junius rode jack-o'-lantern. columbine and lady belle were to be led. as nelly drew near, columbine neighed a welcome. "what's brought you down here, honey?" asked bolivar. "i was going to stop at the house to say good-bye." "i wanted to see you alone a minute, daddy." "go 'long for a little private confab with her, bolivar. all right, nelly, no hurry," said shelby genially. the thin sickle of the new moon cast very little light as nelly and her father walked a short distance down the path, nelly, talking earnestly in a low voice. when she ceased bolivar said: "oh, you must be mistaken, nelly, why, i never heard of such a fool stunt; yet that kid's capable of most any, i understand. of course, i'll take the hint and watch out, but just like you say, it's better to keep it dark. it'd only stir up a terrible talk and make mrs. vincent's school,--well; she don't want that sort of thing happening. run 'long back and keep your eyes open. shall i say anything to shelby?" "not a word, daddy! not one word! just get him out of the way if you can." "that's easy. he's going to ride into the city when i start and none of the boys sleep in the stable. i kind of suspicion your plan but i won't ask no more questions." at eight-thirty the first "batch o' beasties" "shoved off." the girls ran down the driveway to bid them good-bye and the horses seemed to understand it all perfectly. then bolivar and his charges, accompanied by shelby, set forth upon their ways. it was a wonderful, star-sprinkled night, though the moon had sunk below the horizon. when they had gone a little way shelby bade them good-bye and good-luck and turned into the broad boulevard leading into washington. bolivar followed the quieter road on the outskirts of the city. presently he said to junius: "land o' love, i'd as soon ride an elephant as this horse. his back's as broad. hold on a minute, i'm going to shift my saddle to columbine. i know her and she knows me, don't you, old girl?" "she's de quality, sure," agreed junius. "this is something like," sighed bolivar, falling easily into columbine's smooth fox-trot. they had gone perhaps a mile when bolivar suddenly clapped his hand to his breast-pocket and pulled up short. "what done happen, mr. bol'var?" asked junius. "i'm seven kinds of a fool. left my wallet in that old coat shelby let me wear round the stable! now that's the limit, ain't it? i got to go back. ain't got a cent with me. you ride on slow and stop at the pine cliff inn up the road a-piece, and wait there till i come. columbine's fresh as a daisy and the three miles or so will be just a warm-up for her this night. now wait there. don't budge a step till i come." "i'll do like you say." jim bolivar started back slowly, but once beyond junius' sight gave columbine the rein and was soon within a quarter of a mile of columbia heights school. meanwhile, in that usually well-ordered establishment some startling events were taking place. when nelly left her father she stopped on the terrace to talk a few minutes with the girls. it was then after nine o'clock but during these long, sultry evenings mrs. vincent allowed the girls to remain upon the terrace until ten. examinations were over, there was no further academic work to be done and most of the preparations for commencement were completed. indeed, most of the little girls had already left, and several of the older ones also. a general exodus takes place from washington early in may and the schools close early. "whow, i'm sleepy tonight," laughed nelly, suppressing a yawn. "reckon i'll go upstairs. good-night, everybody." "you'll smother and roast if you go to bed so early, nell. stay here with us," cried polly, catching nelly's skirt and trying to pull her down beside her. "can't. i'd drop asleep right on the terrace," and turning nelly ran in-doors. once in her room she speedily shifted into her linen riding suit, then slipping down the back stairs, sped across the dark lawn to the stables. they were dark and silent. not a soul was in shelby's cottage where the stable key was kept and a moment later nelly had taken it from its hook and was at the stable door. a bubble of nickers, or the soft munching of feeding horses, fell upon her ears. star knew her voice as well as polly's and peggy's. nelly went straight to star's stall. in less time than it takes to tell it she had him saddled, bridled and led softly out upon the lawn. keeping within the shadows of the trees she led him to a thick pine grove and taking his velvety muzzle in her hands planted a kiss upon it as she whispered: "now stand stock still and don't make a sound. i may need you and i may not. if i do it will be in a hurry and you will have to make time." then she slipped back into the house. but we must go back to the invalid, lily pearl, and her devoted attendant in the west wing. also the cousin. ten minutes after nelly had left her room to carry her note to her father, helen went to mrs. vincent's study. "oh, mrs. vincent, cousin pauline came back to see if she had left her engagement ring in my room. she did not miss it until she got back to her friends' house and then she was frightened nearly to death and came all the way back here." "couldn't she have telephoned? "i suppose so, but she never takes it off except to wash her hands. she left it on my dresser. she is going back now. may i walk to the gate with her?" "yes, but come directly back, helen. how is lily?" "she's just fallen asleep. thank you, mrs. vincent." a few moments later helen and her cousin left the house but not by the door giving upon the terrace. the side door answered far better. then slipping around the house they paused beneath stella's balcony and the cousin gave a low whistle. instantly, lily pearl's head was bobbed up over the railing and she whispered: "oh, take it quick! i hear peggy's voice down in the hall!" and a suitcase was lowered from the balcony, the cousin's strong right arm grasped it, as the cousin's deep voice said: "you're a dead game sport, lil. you bet we'll remember this." but lil did not wait to hear more. she fled to her room pell mell, not aware that in her flight she had overturned a tiny fairy night-lamp which stella always kept burning in her room at night. quickly undressing, lily dove into bed and drawing the covers over her head was instantly sound asleep. the voice which had alarmed her soon died away as peggy rejoined her friends upon the terrace. helen and the cousin had meanwhile reached the gate and also a cab which waited there, and were soon bowling along toward washington. and what of nelly? as she was returning to the house she caught sight of the two figures hurrying toward the main gate. back she sped to star, and mounting him, rode along the soft turf as silently as a shadow, until she saw the two figures enter the cab. for a moment she was baffled. what could she do alone? she knew it would be worse than senseless to attempt to stop the runaways unaided. she must have help. yet if she lost sight of them what might not take place? she had long since recognized paul ring in spite of his make-up. she had seen him too many times in the masquerader's shows at annapolis. for a short time she flitted behind the cab like an avenging shadow. it would never do to let helen make such an idiot of herself, and bring notoriety upon the school where peggy and polly were pupils, or so humiliate mrs. vincent and natalie. nelly did some quick thinking. there was but one road for the elopers to follow. her father, to whom she had confided her suspicions and begged him to aid her, must be on his way back by this time. wheeling star she shot back as she had come, and making a wide detour around columbia heights school, put star to his best paces. half a mile beyond the school she met her father coming at a fairly good clip. ten words were enough. "thank the lord we're riding empress stock!" ejaculated bolivar as he and peggy gave the two beautiful creatures their heads and they settled into the long, low stride which seems never to tire, muscles working swiftly and smoothly as the machinery of a battleship, heads thrust forward, nostrils wide and breathing deep breaths to the rhythmic heart-throbs. but the runaways had a good start. presently bolivar said: "if shelby has ridden easy he's somewheres ahead on that selfsame road." "oh, dad, if he only is!" "well, by the god billiken he is! look yonder." a more dumbfounded man than shelby it would have been hard to overtake. "had he seen the cab?" "certain. it was hiking along ahead. passed him just a little time before, the horse a-lather. wondered who the fools were." "well, you know now. how far ahead do you reckon they are?" "quarter mile beyond that turn if the horse ain't fell dead. let me break away, overhaul them and then you two come in at the death," he laughed. shelby was riding shashai, and at his word a black streak passed out of sight around the bend of the boulevard. star and columbine chafed to follow, but their riders held them back for a time. true enough, as shelby had said, the cab was still pounding along toward washington, though the poor horse was nearly done up. shelby came abreast the poor panting beast, leaned quietly over, caught the bridle and cried, "whoa!" the horse was only too delighted to oblige him. not so "cabby." with wrath and ire he rose to mete out justice to this highwayman. had the butt of his whip hit shelby he would have seen more stars than twinkled overhead. but it didn't. it was caught in one hand, given a dexterous twist and sent flying into the road as shelby said in his quiet drawl: "don't get excited. at least, don't let _me_ excite you. i ain't got nothing against you, but you can't take those 'slopers no further this night." "'lopers nothin'! me fares is two ladies on their ways to the willard. 'tis a niece and aunt they are." "say, you're easy. i thought you fellows wise to most any game. niece and aunt! shucks! come 'long out aunt, or cousin pauline, or whatever you are, and you, miss doolittle, just don't do nothin' but live up to that name you've got. lord, whoever named you knew his or her business all right, all right! here come bolivar and his daughter to bear a hand. now don't set out to screech and carry on, 'cause if you do you'll make more trouble and it looks like you'd made a-plenty a-ready. and you shut up!" cried shelby, now thoroughly roused, as paul ring, his disguise removed and stowed in his suitcase blustered from the cab. "quit! or i'll crack you're addle-pated head for you, you young fool. do you know what it will mean if i report you at annapolis? well, unless you make tracks for bancroft p. d. q.--that means pretty decidedly quick, nelly,--you're going to get all that is comin' to you with compound interest. beat it while your shoes are good. we'll escort your girl back to home and friends. nelly, get into that cab. cabby, these are two school girls and this man is this one's father. now go about and head for the home port. no rowing. yes, you'll get paid all right, all right. i'll stand for the damage and so will bolivar here. but are _you_ going to dust?" the last words were addressed to paul ring to whom helen was clinging and imploring him not to leave her. but, alas! it was four to one, for cabby's wrath was now centered upon "that hully show of a bloomin' auntie." amidst violent protests upon helen's part, nelly entered the cab. she would "not go back!" and she would "go with dear paul!" her heart was breaking. nelly bolivar was "a good-for-nothing, common tattle-tale and the whole school probably knew all about her elopement already," etc., etc. nelly tried to assure her that no one suspected a thing. mr. bolivar corroborated that statement, but helen continued to sob and berate nelly till finally shelby's deep voice cried: "halt, cabby!" then dismounting he opened the cab door, took helen by the arm and shook her soundly, then thundered: "if you was a boy i'd yank you out o' that cab and whale you well, for that's what you rate. since you're a fool-girl i can't. now stop that hullabaloo instanter. we'll get you back to the school and nobody'll know a thing if you keep your senses. nelly here ain't anxious to have that school and her friends figurin' in the newspapers. now you mind what i'm tellin' you. i've stood for all the nonsense i'm going to, and i promise to get you home without you're being missed, but if you let out another peep i'll march you straight to the admiral's office, and don't you doubt my word for a single minute." then shelby remounted shashai, and leading star, the odd procession started back, shelby cudgeling his brain to devise a way of getting the romantic maiden in as secretly as he had promised. he need not have worried about that. the inmates of columbia heights were meantime having lively experiences of their own. chapter xvii a send-off with fireworks when lily pearl fled from stella's room leaving the overturned fairy lamp to bring about the climax of that evening, her one thought was to get to bed, and hardly had she tumbled into it than sleep brought oblivion of all else. lily pearl was a somnolent soul in many senses. mrs. vincent was busy in her study at the other end of the house. miss sturgis was dining with friends. frã¤ulein, who was a romantic creature, was seated under a huge copper beech tree entertaining a herr professor straight from the vaterland. the other teachers were either out or in their rooms in other parts of the building, and the servants had drifted out through the rear grounds. consequently, the fairy lamp had things pretty much its own way and it embraced its opportunity. what prompted polly to go upstairs just at that crisis she could never have told, but she did, and a second later peggy followed her. the moment the girls reached their corridor the odor of smoke assailed their nostrils. for an instant they stopped and looked at each other, then peggy cried: "polly, something's afire. quick, the bugle call!" polly bounded forward and, as upon another occasion back in montgentian she had roused the neighborhood and saved the situation, now she sounded her bugle call, but this time it was "fire call," not "warning." clear, high and sharp the notes rang through the house. mrs. vincent down in her study sprang to her feet. the teachers rushed to their posts, the girls ran in from the terrace. well for columbia heights school that polly had taught them the different calls and that she and peggy had begged mrs. vincent to let the girls learn the fire drill as the boys in bancroft did it. not far off was a fire engine house and the members of the company had more than once come to see the two girls put their schoolmates through their drill. it was all a grand frolic then, for none believed it would ever be put to practical use. but the fire chief had nodded wisely and said to mrs. vincent: "those two young girls have long heads. it may all be a pretty show-down now, but some day you may find it come in handy." it came in very handy this time. in two minutes an alarm was turned in and the engines were tearing toward columbia heights. the girls had rushed to their rooms, scrambled what they could into blankets, and ran downstairs with their burdens. at least many of them had. all the fire drills in the world will not keep some people's heads upon their shoulders in a crisis. roused from sleep by the bugle, lily pearl, uttering shriek upon shriek, plunged her feet into a pair of pink satin slippers newly bought for commencement, caught up and pinned upon her head the new hat, of which rosalie had said: "well, of all the lids! lily, did the milliner put the trimming on the box and forget to send home the hat?" then grabbing her fur coat from the closet she ran screaming down to the lawn, certainly somewhat promiscuous as to raiment, for her nightie was an airy affair and she carried her coat over her arm. but the stately juno was one of the most amusing objects. she carefully put on a pair of evening gloves and took a lace pocket handkerchief from her bureau drawer. that was all she even attempted to save. it was well for the school that polly and peggy had kept their wits. all were soon out of the building and the firemen battling bravely to confine the fire to the west wing, but poor stella's room was surely doomed, for what smoke and flames might possibly spare water would certainly ruin. in the midst of the uproar shelby, bolivar, nelly and helen came upon the scene. "good lord almighty! look out for the girls, bolivar. guess they'll have no trouble gettin' in unnoticed now," cried shelby, and sent shashai speeding to the stables. bolivar paused only long enough to hand cabby a ten-dollar bill and cry: "clear out quick and keep your mouth shut too!" then he hurried the terrified girls to the lawn where dozens of other girls were huddled, and nobody asked any questions about the suitcase. nor did anyone think to ask how bolivar and shelby happened to be there when they were supposed to be miles away. many details were quite overlooked that night, which was a fortunate circumstance for miss helen doolittle, and her hard-hit midshipman, who had "frenched" out of bancroft not only with mamma's knowledge, but with her coã¶peration. to have formed an alliance with foxy grandpa's niece and clinched that end of the scheme of things would have been one step in the direction of securing an ample income, and once that lover's knot was tied, helen was to be whisked back to the school and the secret kept. mamma was at the willard waiting for "those darling children" to come, and when, much later than he was expected, "dear paul" arrived alone and in a greatly perturbed state of mind, mother and son had considerable food for thought until the midnight car carried them back to annapolis, where paul "clomb" the wall at the water's edge and "snoke" into quarters (in bancroft's vernacular) in the wee, sma' hours, a weary, disgusted and unamiable youth. perhaps had he suspected what was happening back at columbia heights his prompt oblivion in slumber would not have taken place, though paul was a philosopher in his way. helen was with friends and "she'd knock off crying when she found she had to; all girls did." selah! but during all this time things had not been moving so tranquilly at columbia heights. given over a hundred girls, and a seething furnace of a building in which the belongings of a good many of them were being rapidly reduced to ashes, for the whole west wing was certainly doomed, and one is likely to witness some stirring scenes. the firemen worked like gnomes in the murk and smoke, and shelby and bolivar seemed to be everywhere, saving everything possible to save, with many willing hands from the neighborhood to help them. and some funny enough rescues were made. sofa pillows were carried tenderly down two flights of stairs and deposited in places of safety upon the lawn by some conscientious mortal, while his co-worker heaved valuable cut glass from a third-story window, or pitched one of the girls' writing desks into the upstretched arms of a twelve-year-old boy who happened to stand beneath. mrs. vincent was everywhere at once, keeping her girls from harm's way, and the other teachers kept their heads and coã¶perated with her. at least all but one did, and she was the one upon whom mrs. vincent would have counted most surely. when the fire was raging most fiercely miss sturgis returned from her visit and a moment later rushed away from the group of girls supposed to be under her especial charge, and disappeared within the house in spite of the firemen's orders that all should stand clear. the girls screamed and called after her but their voices were drowned in the uproar, and none knew that the incentive which spurred the half-frantic woman on was the photograph of the professor with whom she had gone automobiling the day of the fly-paper episode. poor miss sturgis. her first and only hint of a romance came pretty near proving her last. straight to her room in the west wing she rushed, stumbling over hose lines, battling against the stifling clouds of smoke which rolled down the corridor. the room was gained, the picture secured, and she turned to make good her escape, all other valuables forgotten. but even in that brief moment the smoke had become overpowering. her room was dense. for a moment she sought for the door, growing more and more confused and stifled, then with a despairing moan she fell senseless. luckily the flames were eating their relentless way in the other direction, the firemen fighting them inch by inch until they felt that they were winning the battle. meantime, down upon the lawn, the girls had found mrs. vincent and told her of miss sturgis' folly. she was beside herself with alarm. men were sent in every direction to find her, but none for a moment suspected her of the utter fool-hardiness of returning to her own room in the blazing wing. but there was one person who did think of that possibility and she quickly imparted her fears to one other. "she never would," cried polly. "she had something there she wanted to save. i don't know what, but she was so excited that she acted just like a crazy person, wringing her hands and crying just before she ran back; i saw her go. wait! tzaritza, find miss sturgis," said peggy into the ears of the splendid hound who had never for a single moment left her side, and who had more than once caught hold of her skirts to draw her backward when a sudden volume of smoke or sparks shot upward. for a moment the noble beast hesitated. little had miss sturgis ever done to win tzaritza's love and in her dog mind duty lay here. but the dear mistress' voice repeated the order and with a low bark of intelligence tzaritza tore away into the burning building. "oh, call her back! call her back! she will be burned to death" cried a dozen voices. polly dropped upon the lawn and began to sob as though her heart would break. peggy never moved, but with hands clinched, lips set and the look in her eyes of one who has sacrificed something inexpressibly dear she stood listening and waiting. when she felt most deeply peggy became absolutely dumb. those minutes seemed like hours, then through an upper window giving on the piazza roof scrambled a singed, smoke-begrimed, and uncanny figure, dragging, tugging, and hauling with her a limp, unconscious woman. she made the sill, hauled her burden over to safety, then lifting it bodily carried it to the roof's edge, where putting it carefully beyond the volume of smoke now pouring from the window, she threw up her head and emitted howl upon howl for aid. it was shelby who heard and recognized that deep bay, who rushed with a ladder to the spot, and scrambling up like a monkey, caught up miss sturgis' seemingly lifeless form and carried her down the ladder, where a dozen willing hands waited to receive her, while tzaritza's barks testified to her joy. then back shelby fled for the faithful creature, but just as he reached the roof a sheet of flame darted out of the window and enveloped her. in a second the exquisite silky coat was a-blaze, and poor tzaritza's joyous barks became cries of agony. "quick, somebody down there hand me one of those blankets!" shouted shelby. ere the words had left his lips a little figure scrambled up the ladder, a blanket in her arms. polly had seen all and had not waited for orders. gym work back in annapolis stood in good stead at that moment. shelby flung the blanket about tzaritza's sizzling fur, smothered out the flame, then by some herculean mustering of strength, caught the huge dog in his arms and crawled step by step down the ladder from which polly had quickly scrambled. a dozen hands lent aid and poor burned tzaritza was carried to the stables, peggy and polly close beside her. others could now care for miss sturgis, who, indeed, was little the worse for her folly, while tzaritza, the lovely coat quite gone, was moaning from her burns. "hear, jim, you stay here and don't you leave miss peggy or that dog for a minute. now mind what i tell you," he ordered. peggy knew exactly what to do. it was the peggy stewart of severndale who worked over the suffering dog, bandaging, bathing, soothing, and tzaritza's eyes spoke her gratitude. several of the girls ran out to offer help or sympathy, and their tears testified to their love for tzaritza. it was dawn before the excitement subsided, and the firemen had withdrawn, leaving one on guard against the possibility of a fresh outbreak. and that west wing and its contents? well, let us draw a curtain, heavier even than the smoke which, so lately poured from it. some things were saved--yes--but the commencement gowns, essays, and all which figures in commencement day were fluttering about in little black flakes. there would be no commencement for columbia heights school this year! a telephone message brought mrs. harold and mrs. howland upon the scene before many hours, as well as a good many other interested parents. true, a large insurance covered most of the valuables and the building also, but a house after such a catastrophe is hardly prepared to hold a function, so it was unanimously agreed that the girls should all go quietly away as quickly as those whose belongings had been saved could pack them. mrs. harold and mrs. howland remained over night and on the twenty-fourth instead of the twenty-eighth escorted a nondescript sort of party up to severndale, for wearing apparel had to be indiscriminately borrowed and lent. helen's anxious mamma took her to philadelphia, where june week's joys were not. lily pearl's parents wired her to come home at once, and lily departed for the south-land, june week's joys lamented also. stella's father came in instant response to her telegram and though the one to suffer the heaviest losses, made light of them and asked stella if she couldn't tear herself from columbia heights without such an expensive celebration. _is_-a-bel, who had really lost very little, was inconsolable because her "essay," to be read at commencement, had been burned up, and departed for the hub, still lugubrious. mrs. vincent asked shelby to remain a few days longer, which he willingly did. bolivar had gone on to look up junius and his charges as soon as he could leave the school. peggy insisted upon mrs. vincent coming to severndale for the month when it was finally agreed that the earlier plans should hold, juno and natalie extending their visit. so back went the merry party to annapolis to participate in all the delights of june week, and all which can crowd into it. so ho! for severndale! tzaritza conveyed there an interesting, though shorn convalescent, the horses seeming to sniff round bay from afar, polly wild to see her old friends, and peggy eager to greet those who were so much a part of her life in her lovely home. and nelly? well, no one has ever learned of her night ride, though helen's peace of mind is not quite complete. printed in the united states of america. [illustration: cover] [illustration: _he glanced at the written order_] an annapolis first classman _by_ lt. com. edward l. beach u.s. navy author of "an annapolis plebe" "an annapolis youngster" "an annapolis second classman" illustrated by frank t. merrill the penn publishing company philadelphia mcmx [illustration] introduction this is the fourth and last book of the "annapolis series." it has been the purpose of the author faithfully to portray the conditions in which our midshipmen live at the naval academy. the training given at annapolis is regulated by the needs of the fleet, and the naval academy in all of its departments is entirely directed and controlled by seagoing naval officers. after the fleet's world-encircling cruise, many of the officers attached to it were sent to the naval academy to instruct midshipmen in navigation and electricity and gunnery and seamanship. in the navy it is believed that the officer who is fresh from drilling a twelve-inch turret or a battery of broadside guns at record and battle target practice, should be well qualified to initiate midshipmen in the beginnings of naval gunnery. it is for this reason that the training at annapolis reflects the needs of the fleet, and every officer on duty there has either seen recent sea service or is looking forward to an early sea assignment. stonewell and robert drake by name never existed, but the same thoughts and ambitions that animate them have animated many hundreds of midshipmen; and incidents similar to those described have happened countless times. from this point of view these stories are true stories. the names of their chief characters may be found in no navy list, but the truth of the annapolis books does not depend upon that. stonewell and robert drake have actually lived many times, and to-day are living at annapolis. the author hopes he has presented in this book and its three predecessors, "an annapolis plebe," "an annapolis youngster," and "an annapolis second classman," a fair picture of the life of american midshipmen; and not only of the naval atmosphere which surrounds them, but of that inner life which for the time dominates their relations to each other and to the institution made famous as the alma mater of many names illustrious in naval history. edward l. beach, _lieutenant-commander, u.s. navy_. contents i. glassfell, drake and stonewell 9 ii. the commandant of midshipmen 22 iii. a happy surprise 36 iv. academy life begins 46 v. a mysterious cry 61 vi. the gates forward pass 77 vii. the west point game 88 viii. "the man wore a slouch hat" 101 ix. robert gets bad news 111 x. robert gets good news 124 xi. "three groans for the superintendent" 133 xii. robert makes a discovery 142 xiii. harry blunt is rebuffed 155 xiv. a mystery solved 166 xv. stonewell receives a letter 181 xvi. bligh makes a friend 194 xvii. an ill-favored, red-bearded rogue 205 xviii. an old colored man is in trouble 217 xix. the kidnappers 227 xx. six-pounder target practice 237 xxi. a good shot with the six-pounder 255 xxii. grice appears again 265 xxiii. robert resigns 275 xxiv. it was stonewell 287 xxv. john 15:13 298 xxvi. commander dalton becomes angry 305 xxvii. robert finally answers 320 xxviii. "bligh, bligh, bligh!" 334 xxix. the end of a long day 343 xxx. graduation 350 illustrations page he glanced at the written order _frontispiece_ around the end 68 the stranger threw off his hat 152 he half arose from his seat 200 he saw two dark figures 272 "that will do, gentlemen" 296 it must have been a very pretty speech 355 an annapolis first classman chapter i glassfell, drake and stonewell "hello, stone! hello, bob! by george, but i'm glad to see you!" "hello, glass, you old sinner, i can just imagine you've led those dear old aunts of yours a lively life the last two weeks." "you'll win, stone, but you ought to get them to tell you about it; ha, ha, ha! the dear old ladies never dropped once." explosively enthusiastic greetings were exchanged between three stalwart young men in the union station, chicago, on the twentieth of september, of the year nineteen hundred and something. passers-by noticed them and smiled, and in approving accents said, "college boys!" all three were tall, broad-shouldered, bronzed in face, and possessed a lithesomeness of movement that betokened health and strength. glassfell, drake and stonewell were midshipmen on leave from the united states naval academy. it was evident that they had met in the union station by appointment. glassfell had just arrived from wisconsin, and drake and stonewell were to leave in two hours for annapolis. "you two chaps are martyrs!" exclaimed glassfell; "here you are giving up ten days of glorious leave just to go and train for the football team. now here i am, cheer leader, head yeller, or whatever you call me, far more important than either of you, you'll admit, and i'm not due at annapolis until october first." "'daily news,' last edition," droned a newsboy near by. "don't bother me, boy; chicago news doesn't interest me. some new sandbagging on wabash avenue, i suppose, and nothing else. get out." "a fine cruise, wasn't it, glass?" remarked robert drake. "by george! i'd had some troubles on my previous cruises, but this went like clockwork; not a single thing happened to worry me, and i certainly had troubles enough on my plebe and youngster cruises." "you did indeed, bob," remarked stonewell, "but you'll have to admit you were fortunate in the wind up. now glass, here----" "'daily news,' last edition," was shouted close to their ears. "stuff that boy. put a corn-cob down his throat," said glassfell with an amused glance at the persistent newsboy. "say, fellows, wasn't that a good one i worked on old 'i mean to say'? ha, ha, ha!" "which one, glass?" asked robert drake. "oh, the best one, the time i hoisted up two red balls to the masthead when he was on watch in charge of the deck, during drill period. and didn't the captain give him the mischief?" an outburst of wild hilarious laughter greeted this reminiscence, as evidently a very humorous episode was recalled. in seagoing language two red balls means that the ship carrying them is not under control; and at the time referred to by glassfell the red balls had no business to be hoisted, and their presence brought down upon lieutenant-commander gettem, nicknamed "i mean to say" by the midshipmen, a wrathful reprimand from his captain. "that was pretty good, glass," laughed stonewell, "but you had to own up, and got sanded well for it." "'daily news,' last edition!" screamed a voice interrupting the midshipmen. "look here, boy, how many papers have you to sell?" inquired glassfell. "twenty-five, boss; here's yours, and only one cent." "all right. i'll buy your twenty-five papers and give you twenty-five cents besides if you'll make a hundred yard dash for the outside. give me your papers; here's fifty cents." "i'm your man, boss," cried the newsboy, handing over his papers, grabbing the fifty-cent piece and making a tremendous bolt toward the exit. "he's afraid of a recall," laughed robert. "say, glass, are you going to start a wholesale newspaper business?" "let's see what the news of the day is," replied glassfell, unfolding one of the papers and laying the others down on a seat. "here's an alderman up for graft; a bank cashier has gone wrong; hello! my heavens, here's a naval war-ship goes to the bottom with all on board." "what ship? what ship?" simultaneously cried out stonewell and robert, in affrighted tones. "the submarine boat 'holland'! ha, ha, ha, i got you both that time, didn't i? you chaps will nab any bait that comes along." all three laughed heartily. "you're an incorrigible wretch," smiled robert; "i shudder at the idea of spending another year with you at the academy." but the friendly hug that accompanied these words left no doubt of the affection robert bore to the jovial glassfell. "by george, fellows, here is an interesting item, 'new cadet officers at the naval----'" "you don't sell me again to-day, glass," grinned robert. "you'll be giving yourself five stripes and stone a second class buzzard." "pick up a paper and read for yourself," cried out glassfell excitedly. "farnum gets five stripes!" glassfell read no further, but with an expression of intense disgust threw the paper down and stamped on it. stonewell and robert were now eagerly reading the paper. "cadet commander, commanding the brigade of midshipmen, farnum," read robert. "cadet lieutenant-commanders, commanding first and second battalions, respectively, stonewell and sewall; cadet lieutenant and brigade adjutant, ryerson. cadet lieutenant, commanding first company, blair----" a look of blank astonishment mingled with disdain was to be seen on robert's face. "well, stone," he said, "the officers have done it again, and i guess they can be relied upon to make chumps of themselves as regularly as they assign the brigade officers. you should be our cadet commander, stone, our five striper; you know it, every midshipman in the brigade knows it, the officers ought to know it! you are number one man in the class, the leader in academy athletics, head and shoulders above us all. and here they've picked out a regular 'snide,' a sneak, and have given him the place that belongs to you." robert spoke passionately; he was intensely disappointed. "you are entirely wrong about farnum, bob," remarked stonewell quietly; "he's a far better man than you give him credit for. you don't understand farnum; he'll do credit to his five stripes. i'm entirely satisfied with my four stripes; to be cadet lieutenant-commander is as much as i have any right to expect." "you know why you don't get five stripes, don't you?" asked robert vehemently; "it's because you took french leave a year ago, and reported yourself for it! and didn't farnum jump ship at the same time? only he didn't get spotted for it. you reported yourself for the purpose of explaining my deliberate neglect of duty last year. you were reduced to ranks as a result and farnum was then given your position as acting senior cadet officer of the summer detail. if he'd had any sense of fitness he would have reported himself rather than have accepted it; that was only a temporary affair, however, and didn't amount to much; but because of that same report it's outrageous that you should be shoved out of the five stripes you've earned by a man who was equally guilty, but didn't have the manhood to report himself when you did." "it's rotten," remarked glassfell. "well, stone, old chap," he continued, "i'm sorry; everybody will be; we all thought you had a cinch on five stripes. but i wouldn't be in farnum's shoes; everybody will know he is a fake. but as long as they didn't make stonewell cadet commander i'm rather surprised they didn't give the job to me." "look here, bob," said stonewell, "i have been hoping you would get three stripes--but i'm sorry not to see you down for anything." "that's too bad; isn't bob down for anything?" inquired glassfell. "not even for a second class buzzard, the lowest thing in cadet rank at the naval academy," replied stonewell. "i'm sorry to hear that," remarked glassfell, much concerned. "bob ought to have three stripes, anyway." "don't you worry, fellows," said robert, cheerily, "i haven't expected a thing and am not a bit disappointed. a midshipman cannot live down a 'deliberate neglect of duty' report in one year." "yes, bob, i know, but i had hoped that your conduct at the fire a year ago and that remarkable trip of yours last june would----" "now, stone, please don't; you know that is not to be talked about." "of course, but at the same time in spite of that report you ought to get three stripes." "that's right," commented glassfell. "the officers only see one side of a midshipman's character; here i am, another martyr to their ignorance; i'm one of the best men in the class, the band master thinks so, and he's the grandest thing i've ever seen at annapolis; and i'm a private in ranks for another year. but perhaps this report isn't authentic; let's see, the paper says that it is likely that these recommendations will be made to the superintendent by the commandant; the former is away, will not arrive at annapolis for two days yet--hurrah, i may still get five stripes." "stone, i still hope you may command the brigade of midshipmen our last year," said robert thoughtfully. "this newspaper account does not pretend to be official; it says 'it has leaked out' that the commandant of midshipmen's recommendation of the assignment of cadet officers of the brigade will be so and so. now the superintendent evidently has not seen these recommendations, so they are not as yet finally decided upon. probably this newspaper list is correct in the main, but it is not final; the superintendent is away on leave and has not yet acted; he has not even seen the commandant's recommendations. if either the superintendent or the commandant were to know that farnum had been guilty of the same offense which is now to deprive you of the five stripes you otherwise, by every count, had earned, you would never be set aside in favor of a man equally guilty but not so square. it's shameful, that's what it is." robert boiled over with angry thoughts. strong feelings dominated his expressive features, and it was with difficulty that he controlled himself. his classmate stonewell was at once his joy and pride, and he loved him with brotherly affection. stonewell in his studies towered above all of his classmates; he was the leader in athletics, captain of the football team, and captain of the academy crew. he was class president and his own class and all midshipmen confidently expected he would be cadet commander in his last year at the naval academy. but robert drake more than wished for it. until this moment he had not realized how he longed for it. in the preceding three years at annapolis robert had had perhaps more than his own share of troubles, and in them all stonewell had been to him a mountain of strength and a deep well of affectionate wisdom. "farnum for our five striper! faugh! the thought of it makes me sick! i'll not stand for it," cried robert. "how can you help it, bob?" queried glassfell, himself much disappointed, though not nearly so vehement as robert. "i'll tell you what i'm going to do," almost shouted the latter; "stone and i will be in annapolis the day after to-morrow, and i'm going straight to the commandant and convince him that he's made a big bust. that's what i'm going to do!" "no, you're not, bob," said stonewell, quietly, yet determinedly; "you'll do nothing of the kind. the commandant isn't going to give me five stripes just because you want me to have them. you've had some troubles at the academy, partly due perhaps to a sort of unrestrained impetuosity. sometimes you are apt to mix up in matters that other people don't admit concern you. you'll do me more harm than good if you're not careful; and as a friend of mine i demand you do nothing whatever about this matter." robert knew that stonewell meant exactly what he said, yet he could not give in at once. "look here, stone," he doggedly maintained, "some one ought to do this, and i'm the man. why don't you wish me to?" "i've given you one good reason, bob, and i'll give you another. it wouldn't be fair to farnum." "it wouldn't be fair to farnum!" ejaculated robert. "it wouldn't be fair to farnum," he again repeated, in astonished accents. "will you please tell me why it would be unfair to that sneak? how could it be unfair to him for me to make a plain statement of facts to the commandant, a statement that would prevent farnum from being put into a high position which is utterly undeserved?" "i'll tell you, bob; to begin with you've made a mistake about farnum; he's not at all the poor character, the sneak, you think him to be. you don't know him. you've good reason to know how unfair it is to be misunderstood. your action would be particularly unfair to farnum because the first thing he will do when he gets to annapolis will be to go to the commandant and tell him just what you have said you intended doing." "you've a better opinion of farnum than i have, stone," rejoined robert, shortly. "if he does that i'll apologize to him. but if he doesn't--well, he'll have a mighty uncomfortable year, in spite of his five stripes, that's all i've got to say." chapter ii the commandant of midshipmen drake and stonewell reached washington the next morning, and the following morning took a train bound for annapolis. they were ahead of the yearly rush of midshipmen returning from september leave; members of the naval academy football team are expected to sacrifice part of their precious vacation in order to commence football practice early. hardly were they aboard their train when a tall, fine-looking young man, of perhaps twenty-one or twenty-two years, approached them. in his hurried glance at robert and stonewell one might have seen an expression of pleasure combined with uncertainty, the pleasure when looking at stonewell, the uncertainty when his gaze rested momentarily upon robert. "how do you do, stonewell?" he said, in a rather precise way, extending his hand to him. "i'm glad to see you and drake; have you seen any others of the football squad?" "hello, farnum, how are you, old chap? i'm real glad to see you," said stonewell, heartily. "no, i haven't seen any midshipmen but you yet." "how are you, drake?" continued farnum, rather pointedly, and stood with hand outstretched toward drake. apparently the latter did not see farnum's hand; he made no effort to take it, but with his own right hand he touched his hat and said: "hello, farnum." farnum's hand dropped to his side, and he said impulsively, "why won't you shake hands with me, drake? i would like to be friendly with you, and i don't know why we shouldn't be friends. perhaps you are thinking of the time when most of us misjudged you, a matter that no one has more regretted than i have." "farnum," said robert, "you remember our second class summer, don't you, when i was reported for deliberate neglect of duty?" "surely," answered farnum. "and you remember why i neglected my duty? i was on as 'midshipman in charge of floor' when you and stone and pete and some others were frenching, and i left my post so as not to have to report you all." "i remember that very well indeed," rejoined farnum; "what of it?" "stone and the rest of them, except you, reported themselves for the purpose of helping me out, as much as they could, of the trouble i was in. stone was broken as acting senior cadet officer, and you, guilty of the same offense, were given his place. i hope you enjoyed it." robert spoke warmly. "look here, drake, suppose you let me ask you a few questions. when you left your post that night was it to avoid reporting me? would you have deliberately neglected your duty for me, or was it to benefit your own particular chums, stone, pete and glass?" "i'd do more for them than for anybody else at the academy." "of course you would; i'd blame you if you wouldn't. but you wouldn't have done it for me alone, would you?" "i don't know--i'd got sick of reporting classmates. i hope i won't have to face that question again." "drake, i wouldn't either have asked or expected you to do that for me. i didn't report myself because you didn't do it for me; i took my chance and was not reported. it was all right for stone to report himself if he wanted to. as for being shoved into his position as acting senior cadet officer, that didn't amount to a hill of beans, and you know it. it was a very temporary matter, and it didn't make any difference to stone or me or you or anybody else. at the same time i don't mind saying that i was sorry at the time i supplanted stone. i'm also sorry you have seen fit to brood over this matter. i suppose i can get along without your friendship, though i was perfectly sincere in offering you mine." "do you know who's going to have five stripes?" asked robert sharply. "why stone, of course--i haven't seen the stripe list yet, but i don't imagine anybody else will be considered for that job." without saying anything more, robert took a newspaper clipping from his pocket and handed it to farnum. stonewell, who had been silent during the talk between his two classmates, now said, offering his hand to the latter, "i congratulate you, farnum; i'm sure you'll have a good brigade; you may depend on my helping you to the best of my ability." though farnum was ordinarily a very self-contained young man, his eyes bulged when he saw himself gazetted as cadet commander. he hesitated for a moment, seemingly lost in perturbed thought; then turning to stonewell, he took his hand and said, "stone, this is very kind of you," and without another word passed out of the car. "bob," said stonewell rather sharply, "i have a request to make of you, and if you are the friend i take you to be you'll heed it. i want you to drop this matter of five stripes. you'll make a nuisance of yourself and will make me ridiculous. i want you to promise me you will not go around and tell people farnum shouldn't have five stripes and that i should." "stone, i boil over every time i think about it; i can't help it. it just makes me mad to see farnum smirking and grinning, and usurping the place that belongs to you. but i don't think he'll enjoy his job, feeling in his heart that everybody knows he's an impostor. the idea of his saying to you 'this is very kind of you.' i'm disgusted!" "well, bob, don't think about him, and as you feel so strongly try to avoid talking about the matter. let's talk of something else. the entire squad should arrive by to-morrow, and we ought to get in some good practice----" here stonewell received a violent interruption. a sudden lurch of the train threw a passing youth right on top of the two midshipmen. the young man immediately recovered himself and then broke out into a hearty peal of laughter. "i beg your pardon, i'd no idea i was so clumsy. you chaps are going to annapolis, aren't you? so am i. i'm a midshipman." the speaker seemed to take it for granted that he was both important and interesting. he was full of apparent good nature and friendliness and wanted to talk; he was about nineteen years old, and was tall and strongly built. a great shock of tawny yellow hair surmounted a rather handsome, freckled, healthy face. he had a thick neck and his shoulders were heavy. his appearance betokened great good nature, and there were health, strength and quickness in every movement. "you don't look like a midshipman," said robert shortly. "oh," said the young man with a laugh, "i've only been one for twenty days; i was sworn in september first, and then got leave, a grandmother died and the estate had to be settled--ha, ha, ha,--any excuse would have done--but i'm going to go back to-day for football. i know something about the game, and expect to make the team from the start. my name is henry bligh. what are yours?" "young man," said stonewell, in forbidding tones, "after you've been a midshipman for a while you will notice that other midshipmen are a bit slow in proclaiming who they are to strangers in public places. you are excused." a blank expression spread itself over mr. bligh's face. he looked from stonewell to robert. neither took any further notice of him, and in a hesitating way he walked to the rear of the car. "a bit fresh, isn't he, stone?" smiled robert. "yes, bob; like you and i were when we first came here, and like most midshipmen are at first. he's a well-built plebe, and looks like good football material. well, here's old annapolis once more--what a pleasure it is to get back to the old town." the train slowed down and stopped and the passengers impatiently crowded to the door, anxious to be off. "hello," exclaimed robert, "farnum must be in a hurry; he's taken a carriage; i'm glad i'm not in a hurry, for i'm busted, as usual." farnum had jumped into a carriage and gave directions to be driven to bancroft hall; on his arrival there he went immediately to the commandant. "i'm glad to see you, mr. farnum," said the commandant, greeting him warmly. "i suppose you've come back early for football practice?" "yes, sir." farnum paused for a moment and then began abruptly, "captain, i have here a list of midshipmen which it is said you are to recommend as cadet officers. i am slated, according to this list, to be cadet commander. i wish permission to speak to you frankly about this." "go ahead, mr. farnum. those are the recommendations i shall submit to the superintendent within an hour. the list was not made public by me; it leaked out somehow; but i guess no harm has been done. but it will not be final until the superintendent approves it. he has just returned from leave, and so has not acted upon it." "will you please tell me frankly why i am recommended to be cadet commander, and mr. stonewell is not?" "this is unusual, mr. farnum, but as you are recommended for the highest cadet rank i don't mind being perfectly frank. mr. stonewell is number one in your class, and in pretty nearly everything at the academy. the summer cruise officers and the ordnance and seamanship and discipline officers have recommended that he be made cadet commander; and you were recommended pretty nearly unanimously to be the senior cadet lieutenant-commander. but last summer mr. stonewell committed a most serious breach of academy regulations. he took french leave one night." "is that the only reason he doesn't get five stripes, sir?" "frankly, yes." "then, sir, i must report i was also guilty, at the same time, of the same offense. mr. stonewell and all the others of the party, except myself, reported themselves for being absent, for the purpose of helping mr. drake. i didn't at the time feel called upon to do so, though i have since keenly wished i had. you can see, sir, it will be impossible for me to hold five stripes with any degree of self-respect. my classmates know all the circumstances. i would feel that i was an impostor and my classmates would have contempt for me. i could never have the respect nor exert the moral authority that should go with five stripes." "mr. farnum, i'm entirely surprised. you should have reported yourself last summer." "yes, sir, but as i didn't do so then i must now." "of course; however questionable your notions of last summer were your present action is commendable. well, mr. farnum, you will hardly get five stripes, but, i assure you, you have my entire respect. good-morning, sir," and farnum was bowed out. "by george," reflected the commandant, "that young man has a sense of duty; he's pointed right. i shouldn't wonder but what it would be a good thing to call in the leading midshipmen of a class before cadet officers are assigned and talk it over with them. well, i think the best thing i can do about this list is to recommend stonewell for the brigade commander and farnum for command of the first battalion. they will simply shift places and the other recommendations will not be disturbed." after making this change in the list the commandant left his office and was soon with the superintendent, rear-admiral wentworth. after a cordial greeting and some preliminary talk the commandant, commander dalton, said: "admiral, the most pressing thing i have is to get your approval for the assignment of the cadet officers. i have the recommendations here; i am entirely satisfied we'll have the brigade of midshipmen well officered this year." "let me have your list," said the superintendent, reaching out for it. "i see you have recommended mr. stonewell for cadet commander. hum. i had almost decided to put another young man in that position, but i think i'll let that stand. farnum and sewall are to be the cadet lieutenant-commanders. well, let that go. ryerson, senior cadet lieutenant; he'll make an ideal brigade adjutant. pass him; but where does my young friend come in?" "who is he, admiral? what's his name?" queried commander dalton. the superintendent did not reply, but read the list over hurriedly, and then said, impatiently, "why, dalton, his name doesn't figure here at all, but i can fix that easily; he goes in right after ryerson, and will be cadet lieutenant, commanding the first company of midshipmen." the admiral seized a pen, interpolated a name between ryerson and blair, and then signed the roster of cadet officers. he handed this to the commandant, saying, "dalton, mr. drake will command the first company; shove everybody after him on your list down a peg." "why, admiral," remonstrated the commandant, "mr. drake isn't entitled to this; it is true he was unanimously recommended by all but the discipline officers to be cadet lieutenant, but he most deliberately neglected his duty when he was a second classman when on a special detail. he is a very attractive young man, but we cannot forget such a serious blot as that." the superintendent smiled. "dalton," he said, "i was here on duty twenty-five years ago, when i was a lieutenant, in the department of seamanship." "yes, sir, i well remember your being here, for i was at that time here also, as a midshipman." "well, one year i was among those detailed to make the recommendation for new cadet officers. there was one midshipman, high in his class, a splendid fellow, that would have had high cadet office except he was constantly kicking over the regulations. he was the leader of every mad excursion that occurred within these walls; his exuberance of spirits brought him continual trouble. so when we came to make our recommendations we pursed our lips and passed over the midshipman i'm speaking of. we made a mistake i've regretted ever since. well, that midshipman became an officer that the whole navy ever since has been proud of, and when i was ordered here as superintendent i asked the navy department to send him here as commandant. by the way, his name is dalton." commander dalton became very red in the face, and then in a husky voice much affected said, "admiral, i'd no idea you had this opinion of me--i can't express my feelings; you have touched them deeply. i am glad mr. drake is to be cadet lieutenant. i'll have the list copied and published this afternoon." chapter iii a happy surprise robert and stonewell spent the first day of their return in getting settled and in seeing the football coaches and talking about the football material of the new fourth class. a number of the regular players had already returned, and the afternoon train brought in about twenty midshipmen who had been in the squad the previous year, all of whom were now eager to commence practice. "we'll start in to-morrow, fellows, good and hard," said stonewell; "be on the field at eight in the morning; we'll get the whole fourth class out later, after they've finished their morning drill, and we'll size up and pick out the likely ones and give them a tryout. come on, bob, let's go to quarters. come along with us, farnum, if you're walking that way." the three walked toward bancroft hall together. "what do you think of the fourth class, stone?" asked farnum. "are there any good men in it?" "there are indeed, i should say, from just looking at them, but we will know better to-morrow, after we've given them a try on the field. there's a plebe named bligh who has told me he expects to make the team." farnum laughed. "he told me the same thing. i hope he'll make good; if he does we'll pardon his freshness. what do you hear of west point? no midshipman now at annapolis has ever seen the academy beat west point at football. george! i do hope we'll win; we ought to, we have twice as many men here as there are at west point." "it would seem so. and yet when we had many less midshipmen than there were cadets at west point we used to beat them right along, and since we have had more west point has beaten us. you can depend on one thing, both academies will have strong teams this year and both will make strenuous efforts in the great battle to be fought in philadelphia next fall. i hope you'll make the team this year, farnum; you tried hard enough last year," added stonewell kindly. "i'll get it if desperate work on my part will bring it to me." neither farnum nor robert addressed remarks directly to one another, and after a while the three midshipmen had reached the steps leading to bancroft hall. "let's see if there are any new orders posted," suggested robert, and the three young men directed their steps toward the bulletin-board. in an instant robert set up a great shout. "hooray," he cried, "stonewell has five stripes." robert had looked no further than the head of the list and was wild with unexpected happiness. then he suddenly grabbed farnum by the arm and said: "stone told me that i wasn't fair to you; that you were a better man than i took you to be; that the first thing you would do when you got to annapolis would be to go to the commandant and report yourself for that affair of last summer. did you do that?" farnum looked pleased. "yes, drake, i did, but it makes me feel mighty good that stone thought well enough of me to predict that i would. i'd rather have that confidence on his part than five stripes, any day of the week." "farnum, i'm not as wise as old stone; i apologize to you for my unkind judgment and for not taking your hand in the train. i hope you will forgive me and accept my friendship," and a warm handclasp and a happy reconciliation followed. "why don't you chaps read the rest of this list, and see who the remaining cadet officers are?" asked stonewell. "they're just the same as in the list we saw published, aren't they?" queried robert. "well, farnum gets the first battalion----" "good, i'm delighted," burst out robert. "they've a good man commanding the first company, haven't they?" continued stonewell. "yes, blair is one of the best men in the class; he'll make a splendid three striper; he----" "oh, it isn't blair; take a look for yourself, bob." robert glanced at the written order assigning the brigade officers. "drake, cadet lieutenant, commanding first company." robert's heart commenced to thump, the blood rushed to his head and he felt a surging of happiness within that seemed almost overwhelming. he was like a thirsty man in a desert unexpectedly finding water. until this moment he had never known how much cadet rank meant to him. "oh, stonewell," he cried, "i can't believe it; isn't it likely to be a mistake?" "not a bit of it. the superintendent's name is signed to it. this is better news to me than the five stripes, even," rejoined stonewell. "bob, i'm pleased beyond expression." "i'm delighted, bob," cried farnum. it was indeed a happy trio that congratulated each other and tried to realize their good fortune. "come on, bob," said the practical stonewell at last, "let's go to our room and straighten it up a bit. will you come along, farnum?" "no, i've my own room to fix up. bob, old chap, you're my senior three striper, and i'm ever so glad of it," and farnum's expressive eyes confirmed this feeling. once in their room robert was in no hurry to do anything but talk. boisterous jubilance exuded from his every movement and every expression. "stone, the first company is going to win the flag this year," he suddenly exclaimed. "we're going to have the best drilled, the best all around company of the brigade. just keep your eye on the first company this year, old fellow." "bully for you, bob, i believe you'll win it," replied stonewell. "now i wonder," he continued with a laugh, "if you have already decided which pretty girl you will ask to present the flag to your company after you have won it." robert's face reddened, and then he said, smiling happily, "we'll talk about that later." the young men now busied themselves in unpacking their trunks and stowing their clothes in their wardrobes, placing aside their civilian clothing to be sent to the basement. after this was finished they commenced to talk. "this is a fine room, stone," commented robert. "here, out of this window, is chesapeake bay, and from the other we can look over at the armory across the lawns, and into the city of annapolis. i tell you, it's worth while to room with the five striper. and it's worth while to be a five striper, too. you can visit during study hours, you can come and go as you please; no officer would ever think of questioning the cadet commander. you'll have a good brigade, stone; discipline here depends pretty much on the cadet officers, and every one of us will do his level best that your brigade shall be the best of our time." "that's right, bob, we'll all do our best. we'll try to make every man feel that what he does is important. if all the units are earnest the grand result is bound to be satisfactory." "stone, you and i are the best of friends, aren't we?" "that's been my idea, bob, for several years." "well, i've been thinking it's surprising that in spite of our intimate friendship i should know so little of your family; you know all about mine." "why, bob, what's put that into your head. you've been to my home in chicago and have met my people--and they think everything of you." "well, it just came over me that you never speak of them. do you remember three years ago, at about this time, how you frenched from the 'santee' and how i followed you out into annapolis, and how captain blunt caught us and reported us?" "i do indeed; pretty hard luck, wasn't it? say, captain blunt is a fine fellow, isn't he? i've just read that his ship, the 'new orleans,' now on the asiatic station, is to come home in a few months. i trust his hopeful son will not be bilged by that time; that young man is in constant danger of getting into trouble." stonewell picked up his cap and continued, "i'm going down the corridor; i'll be back in a little while." "hold on, stone, i want to talk about that time we frenched. now i've never asked you any particulars; you told me you had to go out to see a brother who was in some terrible trouble, and you've never said a word about him since--and i've never asked you. now can't you tell me something about him, stone? it isn't mere idle curiosity, but you are so much in my thoughts that i can't help but be interested in your brother. is he like you?" stonewell sat down, saying: "bob, you were very good to me at that time and were most considerate then and have been ever since in not asking questions. i went out that night to see my brother frank. frank is entirely unlike me in character, though people say we resemble one another very much in appearance; from his earliest boyhood he has constantly been getting into scrapes, and some of these have been serious. he is wild and impulsive. frank wouldn't intentionally do a low or a wrong thing, but has done some crazy acts which have resulted badly. "now, the day i frenched, when you followed me, i had received word that frank had passed a forged check, and the same day i learned he was hiding in annapolis; i was beside myself. you see i didn't know but what if it was true. well, it came out all right. frank hadn't passed a bad check, but an older man with whom he spent much time had, and frank's name was brought in. he was badly scared; he was only sixteen at the time, and he came here to me. you see there was no real occasion for his being scared and coming here or for my being so upset. but i didn't know how bad it was and i was nearly crazy until the next morning, when i received word that everything was all right. still, it isn't a very pleasant recollection, and i have never felt inclined to talk about it. now, bob, i think i've answered your question. do you want to know anything more about frank?" "yes, where is he now?" "he's a sophomore at princeton," returned stonewell. "well, you are the greatest fellow, stone; if i had a brother at princeton i couldn't help but talk about it; all my friends here would know it." stonewell smiled. "come on, bob," he said, picking up his cap again. "let's go out and see what fellows have come back. the entire squad should be here by this time." chapter iv academy life begins the next morning the returned football squad were all out on the athletic field, and everybody was busy with preliminary practice in passing, kicking, tackling the dummy and running with the ball. at eleven o'clock the entire fourth class were assembled on the field. each one of these three hundred young men was looked at and questioned as to previous football experience, and about forty of them were advised to come out for practice. of these forty, ten appeared to be likely candidates and were told to find football uniforms, and to practice for the time being with the squad. the most promising of these ten was bligh, and this promise did not suffer from excessive modesty on the part of mr. bligh. "oh, yes, i can play football--a little," he said, with a smile that intended to convey the idea that "the little" was in reality a great deal. "where have you played?" asked stonewell. "oh, two years on the university of minnesota's team, and before that at st. paul high school," drawled mr. bligh. "what have you played?" "quarter, half and end. look up the 'st. paul pioneer press's' all northwestern team for last year; i guess you'll find they know who i am out there, mister." "we'll give you a chance to show what you can do, mr. henry bligh. now take a ball and punt for a while." it wasn't long before stonewell said: "that fellow knows football; he's a find. we need a good quarter and will try him for it. you can see by the way he handles the ball that he's an old hand at it. but i don't like his manners, though we'll forget that if he plays good football. he's a good deal of a brag." "good-morning, mr. drake," said a pleasant voice behind robert. the latter turned around and then enthusiastically cried: "hello, sexton, i'm glad to see you back. i hope you'll make it a go this time. why have you those togs on?" "i'm going to try for the squad," replied sexton. "look here, sexton, take my advice and don't go into football; math comes hard to you, and football takes up a lot of time on one hand and tires you out; makes it hard to study, on the other. now you don't want to bilge again, and you don't want to take up anything that will interfere with your studies." sexton had failed in his studies and had been dropped from the academy in consequence the previous year. "i want to play," replied sexton, "and if i get low in my studies and it is known i play football the instructors will help me out; will give me easy subjects and high marks." "not unless you're a star player. you'd better give it up, sexton. hello, blunt," robert continued to another young man who just came up, "so you're out for football, too, are you?" "you bet, and i'm going to make quarter on the first team, too. last year's quarter graduated in june, and i'm the boy to take his place." "do you see that plebe over there, kicking the ball?" interrupted stonewell, who, while watching different players, had half listened to the talk going on about him. "that fellow with a thick bunch of hair, that one who has just kicked?" "yes, watch him a bit. he knows the game; he has played quarter on minnesota's team. you'll have to get up and dust to beat that fellow out of quarter-back." "do you think i'm going to let a plebe beat me?" cried out third classman blunt, indignantly. "i'll stand him on his head. i'll----" "blunt, leave the football field immediately and turn in your clothes," interposed stonewell, sharply. "i'll be in my room at half-past seven to-night if you care to discuss with me your future conduct on the football field." "mr. stonewell, i'm not going off the field. i didn't mean anything--i--i----" stammered the dismayed blunt. "is your delay in obeying my order due to ignorance or insubordination?" demanded stonewell severely. blunt had been somewhat insolent in his manner to stonewell, and was being disciplined on the spot. without another word harry blunt turned and slowly left the field. "stone, aren't you a little hard on him?" asked robert. "purposely so, bob; it's the only kind of treatment he understands. he's an irrepressible youngster, well meaning, but it's best in dealing with him to temper justice with cruelty. he'll be around to-night in a contrite spirit with sincere promises to be good, and to-morrow he'll be on the field again and he'll play for all that's in him. he'll be wild to beat that plebe, and this lesson will be good for him." blunt did as stonewell predicted he would, and was out on the field next day. two teams were formed and at the end of each day's practice these were lined up against each other and a fierce scrimmage occurred. robert drake was put at right end of the first team; opposing him was farnum. stonewell played left tackle; bligh was quarter-back of the first team, blunt quarter of the second. these positions were subject to constant change, and many midshipmen were tried in different positions. a common spirit animated them. first a winning team must be developed, and a winning team meant but one thing; it meant west point's defeat. after that each player was anxious either to hold his own place on the first team or by superior playing on the second team to earn a place on the first. bligh sprang into immediate popularity because he played well from the start. harry blunt did not have bligh's previous experience, but gave promise of developing into a good quarter-back. robert drake found farnum a formidable opponent. the latter played with an impetuosity and spirit that took no heed of possible injury, and before october first he was regularly playing on the first team, much to his satisfaction. the midshipmen of the football squad by october first had had much exercise and were pretty well hardened; most of them were old players, and in the first real game, against lehigh, the naval academy team played with a dash and spirit that delighted the hearts of hundreds of midshipmen on the bleachers as well as scores of officers. by this time everybody, midshipmen and officers, had returned from leave, and in a day academy life had settled down to its regular routine. one day was allowed the midshipmen to get ready for the year's work, and the next day midshipmen were marching to recitations and drills with monotonous regularity. the first formation of the brigade was a thrilling moment to robert drake. the warning bugle blew and eight hundred midshipmen scampered to their places in ranks, laughing and talking, some in desperate efforts to "beat the bugle." with the last blast of that unmusical instrument came complete quiet; then in front of each of the twelve companies into which the midshipmen were divided was to be seen a young man rapidly calling his company roll; and as names were called vociferous "heres" were to be heard coming from all parts of the long line of midshipmen; when the midshipman in front of the first company on the extreme right had finished calling his roll, he came to an about face, and saluted an impassive midshipman, his company commander, cadet lieutenant drake. "first company, three absent, sir," reported first petty officer peters. "take your post, sir," ordered his captain, cadet lieutenant drake. first petty officer peters smartly stepped off to the right of the company, cadet lieutenant drake at the same time going to the company's left. down the line could be heard shouts of different company officers, aligning their companies. and then the midshipmen of the first company heard a ringing order, not too loud, but in a tone that before the end of the year became entirely familiar to them and in which each man learned to have entire trust. "first company, left step, march. company halt. left dress. back in the centre, up on the right, carry it along, back extreme right. steady. front." each of the twelve companies had been similarly aligned by its cadet lieutenant, and the brigade, stretching along the terrace for over five hundred feet, was now as straight as a taut string. in front of the brigade, facing it, all alone, stood a tall, erect, manly-looking midshipman, entirely self-possessed, apparently not carried away by the distinguished position he occupied. triumphant feeling must have had a place in his heart, but of this there was no external evidence. such formations as these occur innumerable times in the midshipmen's career; they are held before every meal, before every drill, and on many other occasions; and each time every midshipman at the academy is accounted for. six hundred and sixty-five permanent regulations, besides special orders, control the lives and actions of each of the eight hundred midshipmen at our national naval school. there are many officers on duty there for instruction purposes, and a few have special disciplinary duties concerned with the inspection and regulation of the conduct of the midshipmen. but it is only by the effective coã¶peration of the cadet officers that discipline is maintained. the commandant inspects the midshipmen and their quarters sunday morning; the lieutenant-commander on duty for the day as "officer-in-charge" makes several inspections during his twenty-four hours' time; but the cadet officers have multifarious disciplinary duties over midshipmen in their control, and as stated, it is the efficient execution of these duties by the cadet officers and the carrying out by them of the commandant's and officer-in-charge's orders, that largely controls the actions and conduct of individual midshipmen. robert drake realized all this; what midshipman does not who has been at the naval academy for three years? and now came to him, as comes to all cadet officers, a determination to do his part with all the ability he possessed. he was indeed happy to be cadet lieutenant, and was proud of the three stripes on each sleeve that indicated that rank. as cadet lieutenant he had many daily routine inspections and reports to make and was assisted in these by two cadet officers, a cadet junior lieutenant and a cadet ensign, and by eight petty officers, a number of the latter being second classmen. "well, stone," robert remarked as they commenced their studies, "i certainly have a busy eight months cut out for me. just look at these formidable lessons assigned us for to-morrow. here are twenty pages in seamanship, and about the same amount in gunnery and in electricity. we've got an awful lot to do this year in steam engineering, and look at those five hundred pages in navigation. whew! i don't see how we're going to do it well. then i'm sure to be constantly busy with my company duties; this ought to be enough, but on top of this is an hour and a half's drill each day, and after that, football till it is too dark to see. jimmini! if we get more than a smattering out of those books i'll be surprised. and you'll be busy too; you're editor of the 'lucky bag'[1] and chairman of the hop committee!" [footnote 1: each year the senior class publishes a book called "the lucky bag," which is illustrative of midshipman life.] "yes, we'll have no spare minutes," replied stonewell. "let's get to work." the next morning, as the gunnery recitation commenced, the instructor, lieutenant clement, said: "gentlemen, your theoretical book work has been all planned, and by looking through your ordnance and gunnery books you can see just what it will be. for practical work during winter drill periods we will take torpedo mechanisms apart and put them together, and we'll go aboard the monitor 'nevada' and study her turret and her guns. in the last of may a crew of first classmen from each company will go out into the bay and will fire at a regulation target with the 'nevada's' six-pounder guns under the regular target practice conditions. each company six-pounder crew may practice as much as it can find time to with the six-pounder gun in the armory gun shed. the head of the department instructs me to tell you that you are encouraged to make any devices or innovations so long as the gun is in no way disabled, though any suggested change must be submitted to him before firing the gun. the record made in gun-firing is entirely competitive. the crew making the best record will do a good deal toward winning the flag for the company it belongs to; a poor record will certainly defeat any such chance. now we will proceed to our day's lesson in ballistics. mr. drake, take the first problem." the drill assigned to the first company that afternoon was infantry. the drill call sounded after the last study period was over, and by four o'clock robert was marching his company across lawns to the drill grounds. he marched them in columns of squads, changing to company front, and felt very important indeed in his position as company commander. upon arrival at the drill grounds he ordered: "company--halt! unfix bayonets. stand at ease." then, sheathing his sword he said: "fellows, since i've been at the academy the first company has always been among the best companies of the brigade. i want it to keep its reputation as such this year, and i'm sure you'll all have the same desire. the company had the honor of carrying the brigade colors a year ago, but it lost it last june by a narrow margin. you all know the company that has the best record for the year wins the flag, and carries it for the next year. the record is made up of many things, excellence in the various drills, excellence in the different forms of athletics, target practice, boat sailing, sharp-shooting, etc. any man that does well individually in anything adds to his company's multiple and helps just that much. i'm going to do the very best i can to help win the flag for the first company. i take it for granted every one of you is with me and each will do his best for the same purpose. and we may be certain that each of the other eleven companies will do its utmost to win the colors." bob paused. "company attention! shoulder arms! rear rank, fourth file, last squad, step to the front." a diminutive midshipman, seemingly hardly five feet tall, but fat, happy and careless looking, assisted by some vehement whispered advice of the left guide, shambled awkwardly to the front of the company, with his rifle on his right shoulder. "that chap over there said you meant me, mister," said the small midshipman, in an engaging manner. "salute," ordered cadet lieutenant drake, severely. "certainly, mister," replied the young man, eagerly taking off his cap and bowing. "put on that cap. don't you know the rifle salute? have you had any drill? what's your name?" "reginald mumma. these chaps call me mama's darling, mister; i wish you'd have it stopped." "when did you enter the academy?" "a month ago, but i've been sick in the hospital; just got out yesterday." "third petty officer, fall out of line of file closers. drill mr. mumma as a recruit every day this week, and whenever the company has infantry, till he can take his place in ranks. squads right, full step, march." chapter v a mysterious cry the football season opened auspiciously for annapolis. about fifty midshipmen were members of the football squad; these were excused from drills except on two afternoons of the week. of those selected to play in regular games all were seasoned players, and except bligh, all had played on the naval academy team the previous year. and so stonewell and robert and others were quite hopeful. the head coach was professor danton, the field coach gates, a famous old yale player. after several hard games on successive wednesdays and saturdays stonewell was called into special consultation by danton and gates. "stonewell," began gates, "i've been watching our team, and i'm convinced we have a fine lot of men here; not only good football players but real trustworthy chaps, men who will keep their promise, whose word can be depended upon." "we don't want any other kind," replied stonewell, thinking by gates' manner that there was something in the wind. "i've been trying to size up each man's character," continued gates, "and i've decided to put personal trust in every one of them. but i will exact an individual promise of secrecy from every member of the squad for something i'm going to give them. the matter is this: i have devised a forward pass which if it isn't expected and is properly executed is practically certain to bring a touch-down to the team that works it. i've sent it to yale, where it has been tried out in secret practice, and the people there are wild over it. i've told them i wanted to give it to the midshipmen. they don't like that idea, but it's my own play, and i can do so if i wish to. they've asked me, if i give it to the midshipmen, to take every precaution for secrecy and not to use it until after yale plays harvard. annapolis plays west point the same day that yale meets harvard, and you could work the trick against the soldiers. it's a beauty. now what do you say, stonewell?" "we will most certainly agree to secrecy," replied stonewell, much impressed. "i will get the individual promise you require from every member of the squad to observe entire secrecy about this play, and we'll never practice it except in secret practice and will never play it in a game until we meet west point. is that what you require?" "yes; i'll give it to you. we'll suppose our men have come down the field and are within an easy place-kick of the goal; we'll then make all preparations apparently for a goal from the field, and turn the play into a forward pass. we'll station our men as follows----" and a lot of technical football talk followed. stonewell was delighted. "by george," he said, "that's great! we'll work that on franklin field, and we'll certainly make the 'army blue.' we'll try it to-morrow afternoon. i'll let only the first team know of it and get your required promise from them, and we'll work it on the unsuspecting second team; we'll have everybody, officers and all, kept away." "secret practice" for the football squad was ordered for the next day; at the beginning of the practice the first and second teams were ordered at first to keep in different parts of the field. "what's up?" queried harry blunt, the ambitious quarter-back of the second team, to a group of players about him. "one would think the only stonewell had something up his sleeve. come along, fellows; if we keep up our work of yesterday this team will be the first team before long." after half an hour's practice the two teams were called together for a scrimmage. bucking the line, running around the ends and punting were employed until the ball was fifteen yards from the second team's goal and in the possession of the first team. then quarter-back bligh gave the regular signal for a goal from the field. the second team knew, of course, the first team's signals, but it did not know that an apparent stumbling in the numbers he called out was a signal that the gates forward pass was now to be played. the first team players took their places for a goal from the field, stonewell, as usual, dropping back, and before the second team players knew what had happened robert drake was sitting on the ball between the goal posts. everybody was crazy with delight. one would have imagined west point had been scored upon. the play had worked perfectly. the squad was now all gathered together and was talked to by gates and stonewell; it was evident that gates was well satisfied that his confidence in the midshipmen was not misplaced. in the next few weeks this play was repeatedly practiced, and gates was satisfied that if the midshipmen had the opportunity they would play it successfully on the day of the great west point game. it was stonewell's purpose to develop the team as a whole, not individual star players. as right end robert became famous among midshipmen for getting down the field promptly under kicks, and for tackling and downing in his tracks the opposing player who caught the ball. the two finds of the season were bligh and farnum. the former knew the game and played with intelligent skill. as quarter-back his position was most important and at different critical moments he ran the team with unerring judgment. farnum played with desperate valor. his tackling was fierce, and in running with the ball and interfering when one of his own side had it he took every chance. his impetuosity brought him into prominence as a sure ground gainer. in close places the ball was generally given to stonewell. there was something peculiarly invigorating in stonewell's personality. when his signal was made there was a penetrating intensity that affected every annapolis player. the danger was in working him too much. one saturday early in november, annapolis was matched against bucknell. bucknell had always been a formidable antagonist of the midshipmen; the year previous it had defeated them. up to now annapolis had not lost a game, and the midshipmen were particularly anxious to defeat bucknell, which on this occasion had brought a stalwart lot of players. they were strong, heavy, and confident. before the game stonewell called farnum aside and said: "now, old chap, be a little careful of yourself. you are bound to get badly hurt at the rate you are going, and we want you to save yourself for the west point game. you're going to be given the ball a good deal to-day; bob drake is a bit stale, and my knee is bothering me. now look out for yourself." "i'll try to remember, stone," was the reply; "but when i get started i'm not apt to think of anything but the game. but i'll try to be careful." bucknell kicked off and drake caught the ball. he was down the field with a tremendous start, dodging one player, smashing by another, making twenty-five yards before he was downed. bligh believed in quick action. the annapolis team was lined up immediately and in a second the ball was in play. farnum banged through the line between guard and tackle, making over fifteen yards for annapolis. "take it easy, farnum," cautioned stonewell. in an instant farnum had the ball again and was around the end and speeding for bucknell's goal. ten yards before he got there he was brought to earth with terrific violence, and he lay there still and limp. on the side lines, leading the cheering, glassfell was executing all kinds of crazy antics; the midshipmen on the bleachers, full of joy, shouted themselves hoarse. but poor farnum lay there unheeded, entirely unconscious. and in vain did the appreciative midshipmen shout: "farnum! farnum! farnum!" for that young man was carried off the field on a stretcher without regaining consciousness. two more plays, stonewell carrying the ball, brought a touch-down to annapolis and stonewell kicked a goal. this was the only scoring done during the game. in vain did each team hurl itself against the other; all for nothing did prodigies of violence occur. when time was finally called the score stood annapolis 6, bucknell 0. and then thoughts turned to farnum, now in the academy sick quarters. when questioned surgeon pickron looked grave and said, "mr. farnum has had a terrible blow on the head--he has had many recurring spasms ever since--i regard his condition as very serious." [illustration: _around the end_] such news travels fast, and on saturday night the whole academy, officers and midshipmen, were much perturbed. sunday brought no change for the better and surgeon pickron advised an operation. farnum had not regained consciousness. surgeon welton, who was in command of the hospital, insisted on delaying, against dr. pickron's advice, and on monday morning everybody was much cheered up by hearing that farnum's spasms had ceased and that he had come to himself. it was decided not to perform the operation, though dr. pickron believed that a clot of blood had formed and that farnum's skull should be trephined. from now on farnum continued to improve and in two weeks he was discharged from sick quarters and sent back to bancroft hall, though it was ordered that he was to play no more football. but it was not the same farnum. in place of the cheery, wideawake youth who had battled so valiantly against bucknell, was a slow-moving, hesitating young man. he seemed afraid. the slightest unexpected noise or untoward incident seemed to startle him, sometimes to frighten him badly. "i can't help it, bob," he said one time, with half a laugh and half a sob; "it's my nerves, i suppose; i'm sure there's something wrong with me; i know i'm acting like a baby, and i guess it will pass after a while; but i can't help it, i can't help it," and then farnum broke down. stonewell, robert and some of the others had long talks with him. they were all drawn to him and were much concerned. one of farnum's peculiarities was that he didn't dare to go out at night. the entire first class were now devoted to him. his popularity had come late in his midshipman career, but it was now strong and abiding. and his sufferings were so acute and so constant that he had the warm sympathy of all. and academy life went on apace, and academy life at this period of the year is mostly concerned with football. true, there are study hours and recitations; long hard lessons must be read over and officers must hear recitations; formations must be attended, drills undergone, and examinations prepared for. this football spirit infected the officers as it did midshipmen. football was the one topic of conversation, the one purpose in life during this epoch, and those that didn't play shouted vociferous advice, admonition and encouragement from the bleachers. one friday night in the middle of november, at five minutes before ten, the bugles in bancroft hall rang out their customary discordant warnings that all midshipmen were to repair to their rooms immediately. in five minutes the midshipmen were to be in bed and all lights out. and instantly hundreds of midshipmen rushed through the corridors to get to their own rooms; for they are given the time from nine-thirty, the end of their study period, to ten for visiting. on this friday night the midshipmen ran to their rooms as usual at the warning signal. until the last minute of the allowed time there was to be heard the scurrying of hurried feet resounding through the corridors and a babble of shouting and laughter. eight hundred midshipmen seemed to have something to say that couldn't keep till the morrow. ten o'clock came, and with it complete silence save for the measured tread of cadet officers going from room to room to see the occupants thereof were all in bed. and now sounded forth the clock, with its ominous tick-tock, as though it had been silent all day, and there came the oppressive silence which reigns each night after ten o'clock. so it was this friday night. four bells, indicating ten o'clock, were struck, the lights were put out and a solemn hush was upon the eight hundred occupants of bancroft hall. and then, in the stillness of the night, there arose an awful heart-terrifying shriek. it was plainly in the armory wing and evidently from one of the upper floors. startled, affrighted midshipmen jumped from their beds and stood in listening attitudes. again came a cry that permeated every nook and corner of the armory wing, and hundreds of midshipmen listening with painful intensity plainly heard the words: "help, help, stonewell, help; i'm going down, going down, down." the tones were those of one in fearful agony. the midshipmen jumped to the doors of their rooms and into the corridors, all with unspeakable dread in their hearts, waiting for a leader to direct their actions. stonewell, rooming on the first floor, dashed into the corridor, followed by drake. "where's that cry?" he demanded in strident tones. "the top floor, sir," cried little mr. mumma, with trembling voice. up the stairway bounded stonewell and robert. hardly had this occurred when the cry was again heard. it seemed now to be in the corridor of the third floor, which by this time stonewell had reached. stonewell stood perplexed and worried; in a second the fearful scream was again heard, but now evidently from the floor below, the second floor. stonewell ran to the stairway at one end of the corridor, followed by the other midshipman. "where is that cry?" he again demanded of the startled midshipmen standing about, much bewildered. "it was here a minute ago, right here, right here," replied harry blunt. "but what's the matter? what's happened?" he asked. again they were silenced by the awful cry: "help, help, stonewell, save me!" which arose from the floor below. it was twice repeated, each time seeming farther away, and then it ceased entirely. by this time stonewell and robert had run down two flights to the ground floor. midshipmen here had heard the frightful shrieks and many scared faces were to be seen. "turn out, everybody; get into ranks. company officers, muster your companies," shouted stonewell. "pass the word to the upper floors, bob," he called out. "muster on the first and ground floors," and robert was off in a flash. "you have anticipated my orders, mr. stonewell," remarked the officer-in-charge. "make a careful muster; we'll investigate; what do you think it was?" "i can't imagine, sir; i'm entirely bewildered; the cry was undoubtedly heard at the top of the building, and it was heard later on each floor. i followed it down from the third floor. but nobody came down on the stairways, i'm certain of that, and the cry seemed near the centre of each floor, where no stairway leads down. if it wasn't that i believe everything on earth is explainable i would say it is uncanny." while stonewell and the officer-in-charge were talking bancroft hall had burst into life. the cries had ceased. in going along the ground floor stonewell came across bligh, half supporting farnum. the latter was shivering with unconcealed fright. "what is it, stonewell?" he half whispered. "oh, what has happened? hasn't something dreadful occurred?" farnum had the appearance of a sick man. he was agitated in manner, and seemed weak and trembled; without bligh's assistance he would have fallen. "just a joke, old chap," replied stonewell kindly; "nothing to worry about; but you're sick, i can see that. man, you have a raging fever!" "get to your company, bligh; i'll take care of farnum." stonewell reported farnum as being sick, and received permission to take him to sick quarters, at some distance from bancroft hall. the result of the muster was that bligh and farnum were reported as not being present but the absence of both was explained, farnum being sick and bligh being with him when the latter's company was mustered. the midshipmen, tremendously interested and impressed, were now waiting to be dismissed. all sorts of conjectures were ventured to explain the mystery, and some had superstitious fears in their hearts. mr. henry bligh listened with a queer expression to a great many theories of this remarkable episode, but offered none himself. but after he was dismissed he chuckled and laughed, being apparently much pleased with something. chapter vi the gates forward pass the commandant was inclined to make little of the incident of that friday night. "just a midshipman's joke," he said next morning to the officer-in-charge. "i don't feel that way at all," replied that officer. "i don't believe anybody could have simulated the horror of those tones. i confess i have no theory about the matter and i'm at an utter loss in attempting to account for the way the cry descended from the upper to the lower floor, for it certainly did do that. it couldn't have been anybody running downstairs, for the midshipmen in charge of floors were at their desks at the foot of the stairways, and they say that nobody except mr. stonewell and mr. drake came down, and it wasn't either of them." "oh, i'll tell you how it was done," said commander dalton. "some jokers got some rubber hose in some way and fixed up a plant to bewilder the officer-in-charge. i can imagine sections of hose were led to the different floors and were triced up overhead and acted as speaking tubes. you didn't think to look overhead, did you?" "no, i didn't, but i don't think that could be the explanation." "perhaps not, but some joking midshipman was at the bottom of it. if it happens again just look overhead." for several days following stonewell appeared much preoccupied and was to be seen wandering about the corridors in the central part of the armory wing. facing the corridors were long lines of midshipmen's rooms; the only communication between the floors were the stairways, two to each floor. finally stonewell went to the top floor and after looking about, disappeared into a small doorway leading to the tower, where the ventilating blower was in operation. this was on wednesday afternoon just after study hours were over. at this time robert drake was standing by the stairway of the ground floor, leading to the basement. harry blunt came by and said: "hello, drake, come along, if you're going to football practice to-day; stonewell said he wanted us on the field as early as we could get there." "i'm just waiting for stone; he's gone up to the fourth floor, and said he would be down directly." then to robert's great surprise, stonewell came up the stairway from the basement. "how in the world did you get into the basement?" he exclaimed. "i saw you start for the top of the building and you came out of the bottom. how did you do it?" "i'll let you know later, bob," stonewell said quietly, and robert knew he didn't care to talk before blunt. "come along, fellows." they started off at a brisk pace; near sick quarters, stonewell said: "i'm going to drop in to see farnum; an operation was performed on him saturday afternoon, and dr. pickron said i might see him to-day. he is getting along finely." "that's splendid news," exclaimed robert; "just tell him how sorry we all are that he has been sick." "may i see mr. farnum for a few minutes?" asked stonewell of dr. pickron, in sick quarters. "yes, top floor back on the right. don't stay too long with him." "thank you, doctor, i'll only be with him a moment." stonewell found farnum lying in bed with his head bandaged. "hello, stone," cried the latter happily, as stonewell came in, in a different tone of voice than farnum had had for some weeks. "by george, stone, i'm feeling a lot better; i've got rid of that miserable feeling i had for such a long time. dr. pickron is all right; he cut my head open and i'm going to be well and out in ten days or two weeks. i knew there was something wrong with me, but dr. pickron has fixed it all right. i'd been in bad shape ever since that bucknell game." "i'm delighted, old fellow," replied stonewell enthusiastically; "that was a hard bump you got that day, but you're looking ever so much better. everybody will be awfully glad to hear you are getting along so nicely; the squad, particularly." "i'm afraid i'll play no more football this year." "don't worry about that, farnum. you played a slashing game, and had much to do in getting that six against bucknell; but you played too hard, as i was afraid you would. say, old chap, you were pretty sick the night i brought you over here, weren't you? do you remember much about it?" "i've been worrying about that, stone; i remember coming over with you, but i'm a good deal bewildered as to what happened before i saw you. i'd been feeling sick all day and turned in early. i went to sleep and had a horrible nightmare; i hate to think about it." "where were you when you woke up?" "that's what has been bothering me. stone, i found myself in the basement. how in the world i got there, what i was doing, i have no idea. i woke up with the most awful feeling of terror a man ever had, and i didn't know where i was. if it hadn't been that young bligh was down there i'd have lost my grip; i didn't have much of one as it was. bligh saw i was in bad shape, and grabbed me and half carried me to the floor above." "what was bligh doing there at that time?" "i don't like to say, stone; you must remember he did me a good turn." "well, i know what he was doing, he was breaking training; i suspected that; i detected the odor of tobacco on him that night, and i've had this same notion before. if i learn that he's breaking training i'll fire him off the team. do you know, farnum, i've heard you were seen going up on the fourth floor a little before ten that night. have you any recollection at all of that, any dream even?" "none except a most horrible dream; i shudder to think about it. say, stone, i hope you won't talk about this; i'd hate to have the notion get among the fellows that i had been crazy." "i won't speak of it, old chap, to anybody; but i can tell by your very appearance you're going to have no more trouble. say, our next game is with the university of virginia, and after that we play harvard; by george, i hope we make a good showing. good-bye, old chap; i'll drop in to see you every day or so until you're back with us." on his way out stonewell stopped in to see dr. pickron. "doctor," he said, "farnum is doing well. what was the operation you performed?" "we trephined his skull. he received a hard blow on the right side of his head in the bucknell game; this caused a rupture and resulted in a hemorrhage or blood clot, which was formed between the membranes of the brain and the skull; and there was a slight depression of the skull over this area. i wanted to operate at the time he was first hurt, but the blood clot was mostly absorbed, and apparently mr. farnum regained his normal condition. but actually there remained a thickening of the membrane over this area, and this, with the slight depression of the skull, caused a constant pressure. this resulted in a certain form of epilepsy, which was his condition when you brought him over last friday night." "doctor, while in this condition could mr. farnum have walked about, unaware of what he was doing, as if he were asleep, and later know nothing about what had happened?" "yes, indeed; it's quite likely that very thing happened to mr. farnum." "thank you very much, doctor," and stonewell left and went to the athletic field, where football practice had already commenced. "bligh," called out stonewell sharply, "i believe you've been breaking training. i give you fair warning that if you are caught at it you'll be kicked off the team without ceremony." bligh looked uncomfortable and commenced to bluster. "who says i've broken training; just let me know who it is! don't i play quarter well enough for you, mister stonewell?" he continued sneeringly. "blunt can take your place any time," replied stonewell shortly. "he's playing better every day, and your playing is at a standstill. now get busy." "oh, you're one of the mighty stonewell's pets," muttered bligh to harry blunt. "your bootlicking begins to draw interest." this uncalled for and unexpected insult was too much for harry blunt's uncertain temper; full of rage he jumped at bligh and struck him heavily in the face. the two lads clinched, but were immediately separated, harry's face aflame with angry indignation, and bligh furious with mortification. stonewell called them sternly to time, threatening summarily to dismiss both from the team if they didn't bury their personal differences: nor would he listen to any explanation from either. "shut up, both of you, and get to work," he ordered peremptorily. after this the rivalry between bligh and blunt became bitter. blunt secretly was tremendously encouraged by stonewell's remark that he could take bligh's place any time. in the next game, against the university of virginia, blunt was put in at quarter, and won golden opinions. virginia was beaten 10 to 0, and there were many that now openly said: "blunt is every bit as good as bligh, and with another season's experience he will be better." bligh was aware of this sentiment, and it exasperated his already bitter feeling against his rival; he had much enjoyed the reputation of being the naval academy's best quarter-back. he showed this bitterness by a sullen behavior that was evident to everybody and which brought down upon him severe criticism and reprimand. but he did not change. on the next wednesday, annapolis was matched against harvard. the wearers of the crimson came to the field smiling and confident, but it wasn't long before they commenced to look worried. annapolis immediately commenced to tear great holes for steady gains through the harvard line. to the enthusiastic midshipmen on the bleachers it seemed like a regular walk down the field. when ten yards from harvard's goal, lumsden, a second classman, took the ball. no one knew just how it happened, but the ball slipped from lumsden's grasp, and quick as a flash the harvard captain emerged from the scuffle with the ball under his arm and an apparently clear field before him. robert drake downed him on the annapolis fifteen yard line. harvard now tried rushing tactics, but to her dismay could make no headway, and on the third down kicked a goal from the field. from now on annapolis played with wild desperation. chances looked bright for them, but without realizing it the team was exhausting itself. toward the close of the second half annapolis had the ball seventeen yards from the harvard goal line, and now stonewell realized, too late, that his men were exhausted, that harvard had better staying powers. twice stonewell threw the entire strength of his team against harvard, but the latter stood the shock easily. the midshipmen were worn out. and then on the third down, stonewell whispered to bligh, the quarter-back, to try a goal from the field. "our best and only hope is to tie the score," he said. once more the two teams were lined up, annapolis bracing itself for a final effort, harvard doggedly determined. and then bligh gave the signal. "thirteen, twenty-one, ninety-seven, forty-six." "time, time," called stonewell, suddenly, running out and holding up his hand. "blunt, oh, blunt!" he shouted to the side lines. "get off the field, you hound," stonewell said in tones of contempt to bligh. the latter had given the signal for the gates forward pass. chapter vii the west point game in another moment, but for stonewell's quick action, the ball might have been put in play. all the naval academy players instantly realized what bligh had intended, and every one was intensely angry. gates, who had heard the signal, came running out on the field from the side lines; the harvard players were tremendously surprised and did not know what to make of the commotion among the midshipmen, and the umpire was angrily ordering the midshipmen to play and gates to get off the field. short shrift was given to bligh; the latter's attempted expostulation was cut short, and stonewell passionately ordered him away. blunt took his place as quarter. a place-kick was attempted, but was blocked, and time was soon called. the game ended with the score harvard 3, annapolis 0. the midshipmen players ran to their dressing rooms, and much hot and angry talk followed. some were for reporting bligh and having him dismissed. others were for giving him a physical beating; others proposed that he be put into complete "coventry." "none of this will do, fellows," said stonewell, after listening to a lot of angry proposals for mr. bligh's discomfiture. "not one of us here will ever speak to the man; that goes as a matter of course; but we must be very careful to avoid doing anything that will tend to create discussion. bligh's leaving the field was not understood by anybody but our own players. if he be put in 'coventry' or thrashed or reported or disciplined for what he did to-day the matter might leak out. west point scouts were present watching our play, and harvard plays yale soon. the only thing to do is to keep absolutely mum; in this case the ends of justice and of discipline must give way to football necessities. we must keep faith with our friends of yale." "but is such a hound to be permitted to remain a midshipman?" burst out harry blunt. "i've been brought up to believe a midshipman could not do a dishonorable thing and remain a midshipman; is bligh to do a scoundrelly act and not only go unpunished but also to have the secret of it kept by us who would have been disgraced if he had succeeded in his purpose?" "just so, blunt," replied stonewell. "there's nothing else to do. should we report bligh it is quite possible the whole thing would come out, and gates' forward pass from a fake kick formation would become a matter of common knowledge. we may win the west point game through it. yale plays harvard the same day we play west point. each of us must avoid doing a thing in regard to bligh that will cause comment or discussion. his leaving the field at that time and his being put off the squad is bound to cause talk in the brigade. if anybody asks why, just say he didn't suit, and change the subject." "that's right," broke in professor danton, who had been an interested listener, "but i just want to add one thing; in the many years i've been here, there have been at different times bad characters entered as midshipmen; but they're invariably found out and dismissed. mark my words, mr. bligh will be no exception--he's undoubtedly a dishonorable character--don't worry about him; he'll not last a year here." much discontented grumbling followed, but all realized there was nothing to do except follow stonewell's directions. as a natural result impotent rage was felt by the midshipmen players against bligh. in spite of bligh's dastardly act they were to be powerless to show their contempt for him or their resentment of his conduct, nor could the midshipmen of the brigade be told until after the football season had ended. "and just think of the brigade giving bligh the 'four n yell,' fellows, as he left the field," grumbled harry blunt. the members of the team talked of bligh's conduct rather than of the game in which they had just been defeated. before the game they had hardly dared to hope for victory against harvard, and all had now a satisfactory feeling that a good battle had been fought, and that no apology was necessary. amongst the midshipmen of bancroft hall much enthusiasm was felt for their team, but great surprise was exhibited when at supper bligh was seen to go to his regular seat in the mess hall instead of going to the training table. it became instantly known that bligh was off the football squad, and "why?" was the question asked everywhere. bligh was very quiet, and in reply to numerous questions said he could not talk about the matter. then all knew that he had been dismissed from the squad. "pass the word, pete," said glassfell to peters, "that stone says that no questions are to be asked, and bligh's leaving the football squad is not to be talked about." it was wonderful how loyally this mandate was observed. it soon got to every midshipman of the brigade and in spite of the intense curiosity that existed every midshipman felt it a duty to the team to carry out stonewell's wishes. that same wednesday night, shortly before half-past nine, bligh appeared in the room occupied by stonewell and robert drake. "by what authority are you visiting my room in study hours?" demanded stonewell in coldly official tones. "from the officer-in-charge, sir; i told him it was most important." "what is it?" bligh's reply came in halting, jerky sentences. "i wish to explain that signal to-day, sir. i was wild for our team to win; we could have won by the play; i gave the signal without thought, sir. it just sprang from my lips--i never once thought about the promise--and besides, it would be a greater honor to win from harvard than from west point--and probably we would have won by it from west point, too--we have never yet won from harvard. don't you see, sir, i was working for the academy? i was carried away at the time; it was a tremendous minute and the desire to use a play that would win crowded all other thoughts out of my mind; it's well enough to think of promises when you have time to do so; it's easy when you're sitting in a chair doing nothing, but too much outside matter should not be expected of the quarter-back in the middle of a fierce game. i want to go back on the squad." "mr. bligh, from the very best possible construction of your act, even if it were agreed that your character is high, that with you a promise intentionally broken is impossible, your conduct has shown you to be irresponsible, a person in whom trust cannot be reposed. but from your words i judge you regard a promise lightly--to be broken easily. your action was particularly bad because it might have caused other men, who have higher regard for their word than you have, to be faithless to a promise. but i'm going to make you one promise, and that is as long as you are at the naval academy you will never play football here again. you may leave my room, sir." "do you think i'm going to stand this?" cried bligh, in passionate tones. "do you expect me to sit idle while you are ruining my reputation? i'm not powerless, perhaps i know of some way i may injure you--and some others," and bligh's eyes glared with savage intelligence. "i know what you're thinking of, you miserable plebe. you're thinking you will write to both west point and harvard about the fake kick." bligh gave a violent start. "but let me tell you," continued stonewell, "those people would spurn a correspondence with you. if you attempt such a thing as that i will learn of it, and then i'll make you another promise; if you should do it you'll be drummed out of this place to the tune of the rogue's march. return to the officer-in-charge, sir, and report you have concluded your important matter." bligh turned and left the room. angry feelings dominated him. in his statements to stonewell he had unconsciously expressed his sentiments; honor and truth were in fact not salient characteristics of this young man, and when giving the signal for the gates forward pass he had not given much thought to the promise he and all of the team were bound by. so he left stonewell with a sense of injury and resentment, not of remorse. stonewell and robert lived in the corner room of the ground floor, armory wing. bligh roomed with sexton in the main corridor, next door to the room used as an office by the lieutenant-commander in charge of the first division of midshipmen, that officer occupying the room only during the day. when bligh returned he found his roommate, who had been off on some unauthorized visiting since supper time, leaving the room again with his arms full of clothes. "what's up? where are you taking those things, sexton?" inquired bligh. "i have permission to change my room; i'm not going to room with you any more." sexton was on the football squad, and so knew of what bligh had done. "so you're against me too, are you?" shouted bligh, now beside himself with anger; he then left the room and started down the corridor, and in a moment saw harry blunt coming toward him. he did not notice that blunt, on seeing him, suddenly clenched his hands and seemed to breathe hard. in fact harry's anger was yet intensely alive, and the sight of bligh set his nerves on edge. bligh's overwrought feelings now left his control; he wanted somebody to hate, and because of his previous troubles with blunt it was very easy for him to vent his passion on that young man. so as he passed harry he suddenly stopped and said: "so the great stonewell's pet chicken has bootlicked himself into quarter, has he?" and then an avalanche struck mr. henry bligh. before he thought of defending himself a steam hammer blow slammed him against the corridor wall and in the space of three or four seconds blow after blow was rained upon him; blows sent by harry blunt, animated by intense personal animosity and utter detestation. and then bligh dropped to the floor, covered his face with his hands, acknowledging defeat, and groaning in utter despair. to that overwrought fourth classman it seemed as if the entire world had combined against him. stonewell came running down the corridor. "what does this mean?" he demanded savagely of blunt. "he said i was your pet chicken, and had bootlicked myself into quarter. i hit him; i had to, i couldn't help it. i hadn't said a word to him when he insulted me." "go to your room and keep away from him. get up, bligh, and go to your room." after this episode bligh was very quiet, and kept much to himself. but whenever he passed harry blunt or stonewell a peculiar expression crossed his face. one would have said that though he never spoke of them yet he thought much about them, and these thoughts evidently were not pleasant ones. the football season now drew to a close, and finally those ancient friends but football rivals, annapolis and west point, once more faced each other on franklin field, in philadelphia. it is not the purpose here to depict that glorious struggle; that is a matter of too recent history and has been told many times. the teams seemed about equally matched. in the mighty rushing of one team against the other neither side could make much, and but few first downs were recorded; end runs were nipped in the bud. all in vain would one team hurl itself upon the other, and many tremendous efforts accomplished nothing. and so before the end of the first half kicking tactics were adopted by both sides. twice when annapolis had recovered the ball from a punt down the field a place-kick was tried, but each time it was blocked by west point. once more, while there was yet ten minutes to play, the midshipmen were within striking distance of west point's goal, and once more blunt gave the same signal for an attempt for a goal from the field; a signal the west pointers now knew perfectly well. but they did not appreciate a difference in blunt's manner of giving the signal, something well understood by every midshipman player. stonewell fell back in his place, the midshipmen braced themselves as usual, and the west pointers prepared to block the kick. on the bleachers the mighty host who had been yelling themselves hoarse were momentarily silent. harry blunt now grabbed the snapped ball and then, with terrific force, west point plunged into the annapolis line. the shock was backed by all the strength and pluck and spirit that the west pointers possessed. but bewilderment overtook them, for something out of the usual had happened, and in awful dismay they were like men groping in the dark. blunt grabbed the ball when it was snapped back and ran seven or eight yards to the right; and at the same instant, with the speed of a deer robert drake sped far over to the right. he then turned and caught the ball which with unerring skill blunt had thrown to the point where robert was to catch it. in but a few seconds robert was lying flat on the ground between the goal posts. annapolis had made a touch-down. and now from the navy side there broke out prolonged roars and shouts from fifteen thousand enthusiastic navy friends, while over on the west point side there was nothing but silent dismay. there was no more scoring, but all annapolis was wild with delight; for the first time in four years she had defeated west point. but on the midshipman stand, surrounded by excited midshipmen in blue, there was one young man who did not participate in the general delight; for with brooding face and troubled eyes midshipman henry bligh sat silent. chapter viii "the man wore a slouch hat" "bang," went the reveille gun at six in the morning, rattling every window in bancroft hall; and out of bed jumped robert drake in a hurry. he first took his customary cold shower-bath, and then quickly threw on his clothes. "turn out, stone," he called to his roommate, who was in his own sleeping room across the study. a suite for two midshipmen consists of two sleeping rooms separated by a longer room used in common by both, a large clothes closet, and a shower-bath. hardly had the reverberating roar of the morning gun died away than bancroft hall was filled with the harsh, sleep-blasting notes of discordant bugles. "turn out on this floor, turn out, turn out," called out robert in the corridor just outside of his own room. then he entered the room next to his own, in which peters and glassfell roomed. "all right, bob," came from each sleeping room which opened into the study room where robert had entered, and robert left and rushed into the next room. it must be confessed that robert was hardly out of the room when glassfell was once more sound asleep. and further it is admitted that robert did not give the same stern inspection to first classmen's rooms that he gave to those of the lower classes. he was satisfied with the report from his own classmates of "all right," but saw with his own eyes that all others were actually turned out. on this particular morning mr. harry blunt, midshipman third class, was strangely very tired after what should have been eight hours of sleep, so tired, in fact, that neither gun-firing nor bugle detonation awakened him. "turn out, blunt, turn out," called out robert, standing over him. "get up; you're on the report for not being turned out at reveille inspection." harry slowly turned out, and robert rushed away to continue his inspection. breakfast formation came half an hour later. most midshipmen were in ranks before roll call, but at the last note of the bugle swarms of midshipmen rushed madly from bancroft hall; midshipmen who had taken a few winks after reveille inspection, hoping to get to the formation without being marked late. this was glassfell's habit, and he had developed remarkable skill in dressing himself while running at full speed. he would leave his room half dressed and at the end of a dead run he would appear in ranks ready for inspection. "by george, stone," said robert later, "can you imagine there is anybody in the world who does more mad rushing than midshipmen do? we are jumped out of our sleep by a cannon going off right under us, and we run about in a feverish hurry all day long, always having to be present at some formation or other, always fearful of punishment if we are late at anything. and one day is just like another; we were jumped about all day long when we were plebes, and we are still at it." every minute of robert's life was interesting and never had it been so full of zest as in this, his last year at annapolis. he enjoyed his rank with its duties and authority as cadet lieutenant, also his studies and drills were engrossing. these days, though so crowded with detail, were much the same; several hours daily were spent in preparing lessons; recitations followed, and then at four o'clock came the afternoon drills. the practical drills supplemented the theoretical work in class rooms, and all was based upon what was to be required of the midshipmen after graduation. and as an important duty of graduated midshipmen is to teach and train enlisted men, robert, in common with the rest of his classmates, was drilled at many different things. he commanded his own company at infantry and artillery manoeuvres and felt proud and important in this position, but at other times he was to be found at a forge, dirty with grime and sweat, or taking the place of a fireman at a boiler. he could now turn out a fair piece of work at the lathe, shaper, or drill-press; and he was quite at home in sailing a boat, running an engine or manipulating a twelve-inch gun turret. for at annapolis drills are many and varied, and the mind, eye and hand are all trained together. december passed and with it football was forgotten. in the last of january came the semi-annual examinations; of the first class there now remained but one-half of those who had originally entered. in february occurred an incident of much interest to robert. at a saturday night dance he saw his first commander, captain blunt, and with the latter was miss helen, his daughter, and harry blunt's sister. it would be hard to decide who was most pleased at this meeting. captain blunt evinced real pleasure in meeting robert again, and helen's welcome was a genuinely glad one. "come and see us, mr. drake," said captain blunt to robert; "i've given up my command and am on leave; i've brought mrs. blunt and helen to annapolis. we've opened our house here, as i'm going to be here for several months and then go to the light house board. come and see us, and bring mr. stonewell with you." meanwhile midshipman henry bligh lived a very quiet life. after the football game the reason for his dismissal from the squad became noised about, and bligh felt he was ignored by upper classmen and shunned by his own class. he probably thought more of this than did anybody else and his thoughts were not happy. besides, he was low in his studies and in danger of "bilging." he was barely satisfactory at the semi-annual examinations. one night early in february, after taps inspection, and after the midshipmen in charge of floors had been sent to their rooms, the door of bligh's room opened and that young man's head cautiously appeared. looking up and down the corridor, and seeing the midshipmen in charge were not at their desks, bligh left his room and walked to the end of the corridor for a glass of water. this act was inoffensive in itself, except that midshipmen are required to attend to such matters before ten o'clock or wait until after eleven; it was not yet eleven and naturally bligh did not wish to be seen. while drinking the water bligh heard some steps on the stairway leading to the next upper floor, and fearing it might be the officer-in-charge he quickly slipped into a dark corner at the side of the stairway, hoping he would not be noticed; in a moment a figure passed a few feet from him, and to his surprise he saw it was third classman blunt. "now, what's that fellow up to?" reflected bligh, his mind full of the injuries he imagined he had received from harry blunt. bligh peered around the corner and in the dim light he saw harry quickly and quietly walk down the corridor and then stop for a moment in front of the door of the room that bligh knew was the office of lieutenant-commander brooks, one of the discipline officers. the next instant harry had opened the door of this room and entered it. bligh was astounded. he walked softly to the room, paused an instant, and then gently, without making any noise, turned the knob of the door. the door was locked. bligh was filled with wonder. it was evident that blunt had a key to the door, had entered the room, and was now inside. bligh could not imagine why any midshipman should want to enter a discipline officer's room; it was certain no midshipman had a right to be in that office except to see lieutenant-commander brooks on duty. blunt was committing a serious offense in being in the room. this did not worry bligh at all, but he was completely puzzled. "what can blunt be doing in there?" he asked himself again and again. he listened intently and heard blunt moving about; and then he heard a noise as if a chair were being moved and had knocked against something. looking up through the transom he saw it was all dark within; blunt had not turned on any light. bligh now entered his own room, which was next to the one that blunt had entered, and where bligh now lived alone without a roommate. with a puzzled mind he drew a chair to his window, and thought and wondered. his imagination could not help him. he had been in the office next door and knew it contained nothing but a desk, a table, two chairs and a midshipman wardrobe where lieutenant-commander brooks could hang a coat if he were so disposed. bligh sat by his window, his mind full of harry blunt. the soft moonlight streamed into his room. and then bligh was startled by hearing a noise in the room next door, as if a window were being raised. straining his eyes he looked out from his window, and in the next instant he saw the dark figure of a man creep out on the passageway leading from the window of the office to the terrace. the man turned to his left, and with the bright moonlight full on his face bligh got a good look at him, but did not recognize him. the man wore a slouch hat, sack coat, and had a moustache and full beard. the dark figure stole over to the terrace and soon disappeared. "now i understand," cried bligh to himself. "blunt had an appointment with some 'cit' and they met in the room next door. he's up to something, and i'll see that he gets reported for this, and i hope it will bilge him." bligh now opened the door of his room and looked out, expecting every moment to see harry blunt emerge from the office. bligh was thoughtful for a while, then he took a spool of black linen thread from a drawer in his wardrobe. he tied one end of the thread to the door-knob of the office and carried the thread overhead through the open transom of his room. he then sat in the chair by the window holding the thread hauled taut; and bligh sat there for the next two hours, thread in hand. at one o'clock his watchfulness was rewarded. he saw the figure of a man steal up over the terrace and across the passageway. and in the moonlight he recognized the same hat, moustache, beard and sack coat. bligh sat perfectly still, and it was not long before the thread in his hand suddenly pulled and snapped. bligh quickly stepped to the doorway of his room and looked out, and there going down the corridor was harry blunt in his service uniform. then mr. henry bligh, midshipman, fourth class, gave a pleased laugh and went to bed. chapter ix robert gets bad news "stone," said robert drake one saturday in march, "let's call on the blunts this afternoon. captain blunt is home on leave; his ship, the 'new orleans,' arrived in new york last month. he's a splendid man." stonewell laughed. "come along," he replied, "and perhaps i'll have a chance to see mrs. blunt; she's such a pleasant woman; and then there's that scamp of a son of hers; perhaps he may be at home. i haven't seen much of him since the football season ended. i never see him nowadays if he sees me first. mark my words, bob, harry blunt is up to some mischief, and he'll be getting into a lot of trouble before long. every time i pass him he looks conscious. by the way, bob, whom have you asked to present the flag to your company? you expect to win it, of course." "come along, stone, and quit your fooling. you know i'll be glad to see captain blunt, and nowadays i don't need an excuse to call on helen. she is always pleasant and cordial. i hope her brother won't get into any trouble, but i've an idea he's taking lots of liberties with the regulations. i imagine there are not many of the six hundred and sixty-five that he's not broken. i hope it won't come my way to have to report him for anything; i wish he were in some other company than the first." half an hour later they were admitted into the blunt home, and were received as old friends. "how are you, mr. drake?" exclaimed captain blunt, shaking robert's hand heartily. "and here is mr. stonewell, glad to see you; i can't believe it's nearly four years ago since i took you out on the 'constellation.' then you were subdued plebes, and now what a transformation! here mr. stonewell is cadet commander, and i'm not surprised. and, drake, here you are a cadet lieutenant, and i'm told my son harry is in your company. how is he doing?" "very well, captain. he stands fairly well in his class and is very well liked. he did wonders in football." "so i've heard, but i want to know whether he runs against the regulations or not, that is, if he has been reported for any serious offenses; for instance, to-day is saturday and he can't come out to annapolis on liberty, which means he is not on the first conduct grade. now what's he been doing? that's what i want to know, and you can tell me because you're his company commander." "nothing at all that i can recollect now, sir, or for you to be concerned about. he has probably been reported for not being turned out at reveille inspection, or late at formation. a few such reports would deprive him of saturday liberty in annapolis. i'm sure no serious reports have been made against harry. had there been i should have remembered them." "and then of course you would speak of them to his family." "no, sir, i should not wish to." "come, robert," interposed helen blunt, "let father talk with mr. stonewell. mr. stonewell is so solemn and he knows so much that he will just suit father. come into the dining-room." as they walked away helen said: "robert, i'm bothered to death about harry and i want you to help me. that brother of mine is going to get into trouble, trouble bad enough to get him dismissed, and that would be a terrible misfortune for us." "i don't think there's any danger of that, helen. harry is all right; he's just a little careless, that's all." "well, mr. robert," retorted helen scornfully, "would you think harry was only a little careless if you knew he was up-stairs this instant? he comes out in town regularly when he has no right to, and some time he will be caught. and he will be reported for something much worse than taking french leave--he will be reported for something that will dismiss him." and pretty helen was indignant and much concerned over her brother's recklessness. "now, robert drake," she continued, "you've just got to help me." "i wish i could, helen; i might intimidate harry, that's about all i could do. i couldn't appeal to him with any success, i've tried that; he would tell me to mind my own business. harry doesn't take preaching patiently. now another thing, helen; he is in my company. if you hear i ever report him for anything i want you to believe i had to do it and that i hated to." "i'll know that beforehand, robert," replied helen gently. "but harry is very good about such things; he never talks at home about troubles with other midshipmen. but now he is up-stairs, and he dare not come down, for father would surely see him. now can't you and mr. stonewell start to go soon and ask father to walk to the academy grounds with you? if harry doesn't leave the house soon he will be absent from supper formation, and then he'll have to tell why, and his being out in town would be found out." "i can't treat your father that way, helen; it wouldn't be right at all; but i must go myself now." as robert went into the next room to take his leave, he was in a state of great discomfort. helen blunt had thoughtlessly put him into a very uncomfortable position. from her point of view she felt justified in using any means to get her father from the house. but robert felt he could not be a party to a deception practised upon captain blunt, and he was particularly uneasy as to how helen would take his refusal. he feared that to her his attitude would appear priggish. but his mind was soon eased in that respect, for helen said in a low voice: "i shouldn't have asked you to do that, robert; that wasn't nice of me. i didn't think, but i'm so worried about harry." "i'm going to walk to the yard with you," suddenly said captain blunt. "i'm going to see the commandant for a few minutes, and if you don't mind walking with an old fellow like me we'll go together." robert was much relieved, and all three soon left the house. half an hour later supper formation occurred, and robert was relieved to see third classman blunt in his customary place in ranks. toward that young man he now experienced a sentiment of irritation, even of indignation. he knew that harry had been taking unauthorized leave, or "frenching," as it is called, one of the most serious offenses a midshipman can commit, and evidently had been jeopardizing his place as a midshipman. to do this regularly in the face of his family's protestations seemed to robert to be utterly callous. after supper he accosted harry and said: "blunt, you've been frenching, and you've got to stop it. if you keep it up you will surely be caught and will stand a good chance of being dismissed. you ought to have some regard for your family, and personally i don't mind saying i'd hate to be placed in a position where i'd have to report you." "drake," replied harry, "are you advising me as a friend or speaking to me officially as my company commander?" "as a friend, i hope." "well, then," rejoined harry in a short, snappy way, "as a friend will you kindly mind your own business?" and the young man started away, whistling as he went, but was instantly stopped by a sharp military order of "halt." robert stood before him with flashing eyes, and in menacing tones said: "i'll not address you again as a friend, mr. blunt; you will please to realize that when i speak to you hereafter it will be your company commander who is talking. and you'll do no more whistling in my face. that will do, sir. about face, march off." harry blunt had a new sensation; he was actually intimidated. he really liked robert as much as a third classman ever likes a cadet officer, and in his heart was sorry he had provoked robert's displeasure. "but drake is a good chap," he later said to himself; "he'll come around all right." from here robert went to his room. "hello, bob," greeted stonewell; "there's a letter for you." stonewell was busy writing and after a few moments he looked up, and suddenly cried out: "why, bob, what's the matter; no bad news from home, i hope?" robert, with the letter clutched in his hand, and with a quivering chin, looked the picture of woe. he had evidently received some news that made him very unhappy. "what's the matter, old chap?" inquired stonewell anxiously; "something has happened; what is it?" and the comforting kindness of his tone went straight to robert's heart. "stone," he said, "this is a letter from father; a month ago the railway company that employed him was reorganized and he lost his position. he has been half sick ever since, and it's impossible for him to get employment. he hadn't intended to tell me, but he felt he ought to. you know mother has been an invalid for years. stone, i've got to resign, there's no other way out of it. mother and father are sick, and no money is coming in. i've got to go home to take care of them." stonewell regarded him with his eyes full of sympathy. "i'm dreadfully sorry, bob," he said; "i'm sure your father will get employment. but don't talk of resigning; you might find it very difficult to secure employment for yourself; you're too near graduation to resign, and after you graduate you will be in a position to help your father financially, if he needs it. it would distress him terribly if he thought for a moment you contemplated leaving the naval service. i'm going out for a while, bob; now don't you feel so badly; i'm sure matters will right themselves." stonewell left and robert paced up and down the room with blurred eyes and a sad heart. the condition of his father and mother, ill and without resources, filled him with agony. he longed to relieve them from their troubles and anxieties; he dreaded the unfriendliness and coldness dealt to people without means, and thinking of the mental torture his father was in overwhelmed him with grief. stonewell went out into the city of annapolis, direct to where the blunts lived. here he asked to see captain blunt and was soon closeted with that gentleman. "captain," he commenced, "you knew my roommate's father, didn't you, mr. drake? i believe he was graduated from annapolis shortly after you were." "yes, indeed, he was a fine fellow, too; he had a splendid record in the navy, and it was a great pity he resigned. what about him, mr. stonewell?" "well, sir, bob, my roommate, is in great trouble about his father and mother, and as you and mrs. blunt are real friends of his i thought i'd talk to you about it. of course bob doesn't know i'm with you. his father has lost his position and has no income, and bob thinks he ought to resign to go to chicago. he feels his duty is to be with his father and mother. it would be such a pity for him to resign so near his graduation. i thought perhaps you might send for him and influence him more than i could. i'm sure he'll listen to you." "by jingo, stonewell," exploded captain blunt, "i'm detached from my ship and ordered to duty as secretary of the light house board, and only to-day received a letter asking me to recommend somebody, preferably one familiar with marine matters, to be chief clerk to the board. drake's father would be just the man. he will get living pay and it's a life position. let me have mr. drake's address; i'll write to him to-night." upon his return to bancroft hall stonewell found robert quiet and composed, but determined. "i've got to do it, stone," said robert handing his roommate an ominously official-looking paper. in it he had formally tendered his resignation as a midshipman. "it's a lifetime disappointment," he continued, "but i've got to go home to my people. they need me. now i feel you're going to argue with me and i beg you not to attempt to dissuade me; nothing you or anybody could say would change my determination. i feel terribly about it and you would only make me feel the worse. please don't, stone. i must do my duty to my father and mother." "i shall not attempt to dissuade you, bob; i know exactly how you feel. but i'm going to ask you to do something for me. i feel as if it would break my heart if you were to resign. now i'm going to ask you to let me lend you fifty dollars. you can send this to your father, and if he is in immediate need of money this will help out for a few days. and i want you to promise me you will delay your resignation for one week. surely you can do this for me, and i have strong hopes that in a week's time you will feel there is no need in chicago that would compel your resignation." "that's awfully good of you, stone, but can you spare the fifty dollars? i feel i ought to leave immediately, but if i could send father some money i might wait a week. the idea of resigning is like death to my hopes." "of course i can; you know i've plenty of money," replied stonewell, jumping up enthusiastically. "i know something good is going to happen, bob, and don't you worry; you're not going to resign." stonewell's happiness was infectious and robert's heart seemed lightened from a heavy load. stonewell had gained his point and he did not choose that robert should learn from him what captain blunt had in his mind for robert's father. chapter x robert gets good news the days following dragged slowly by for the apprehensive robert. his mind was full of the needs of his father and mother and it took real effort on his part to attend to his duties and prepare his studies. he anxiously awaited each mail delivery, but not until saturday morning after drill did any letters come from him. he and stonewell entered their rooms together and robert fairly pounced on the two letters that were awaiting him. eagerly he tore open the letter in his father's well-known handwriting, and rapidly read it. then he gave a shout of joy. "what do you think, stone?" he cried. "here's the happiest news in the world. father writes me that captain blunt has secured a splendid position for him, chief clerk of the light house board. isn't that just splendid? all of my worries are over; and father returns the fifty dollars i sent him. i'm so happy, it seems as if a ton had been lifted from me. i do hope i'll be able to convince captain blunt of my gratitude to him. what a wonderful thing to have such a friend, stone. but how did he come to do it?" robert paused a moment and then added: "stone, did you tell him of the trouble i was in?" "bob, i told him you felt it was your duty to resign, and i told him why. i wanted an older friend than myself to advise you. it was a liberty; but, by george, i can't feel it's a case for an apology. i am just as happy as you are, bob. jingo! but captain blunt is a fine man." "i do wish i could do something to show him how much i appreciate what he has done for me!" exclaimed robert. "you can," rejoined stonewell. "there's his son harry. you can try to help him out of trouble; he's pointed for a lot of it. there are rocks and shoals ahead of him, and he's pretty certain to get bumped hard." "i can't do anything for that youngster, stone," replied robert. "positively he never loses an opportunity of cheeking me." "you may have the chance, bob; but why don't you read your other letter?" "i forgot i had another letter. hello, this is from stanton; let's see what he says." "what! stanton!" queried stonewell. "do you mean last year's five striper?" "yes; what a splendid fellow he is. he says he is having a fine time aboard the 'paul jones,' a torpedo boat destroyer, and he's learning a lot. he says his ship made a good record at the last target practice but it will do much better next time. his captain is devising a new sight for the six-pounder gun; the one now attached to that style of gun is very poor. stanton says that anybody can get up a better sight, and now the navy department is allowing officers to make improvements on the guns they are going to fire at target practice. that's what our instructor in gunnery said last october, don't you remember?" "yes, and by the way, bob, now that your mind is easy about everything you had better get busy if you expect your company to win the flag this year. you've got a good company, but so has blair, and he's red hot after the flag. he'll wipe your eye, bob, if you don't hustle. and it's getting late in the year." "that's right. i'll get busy next week. let's see, now my company does well in infantry and artillery; i ought to beat blair in those subjects." "yes, but blair's company is pretty sure to get first place in seamanship, and on the whole his company is better, more numerously represented in the different forms of athletics than yours is. as an offhand guess i would say the second company has a better show for the flag than yours has. you see the total possible multiple for the entire brigade is 3,000. blair will probably get fifty points in fencing, and he has a lot of fellows on the track and field teams; he'll probably get 100 points there; and the best gymnasts of the academy belong to his company; besides, the second company is certainly as well represented as the first company in the football and baseball squads and in the crew. you may make it, bob, but you won't if you don't get your company stirred up." "by george, stone," cried robert, "i'd rather win that flag than have five stripes. my company is all right; we will average just as well in drills and in athletics as the second company. we haven't done much talking of what we're going to do, but don't imagine we've forgotten about the flag. we are after it, hard and strong." "if you do win it, i'll wager a hundred dollars to an onion that you'll deserve to win. blair is not to be easily beaten," replied stonewell. "let's go out and call on the blunts," suddenly proposed robert. "i want to thank the captain." "don't say another word, mr. drake," captain blunt was saying to robert later the same day; "your feeling for your father is natural and does you credit. i was really glad to be of service to him and to you; but aside from all that, the light house board is glad to get your father for its chief clerk; he is just the man we need. so we are all pleased. how is my boy harry coming along? by george! i could have sworn i saw him ahead of me on maryland avenue to-day; you don't think harry is frenching, do you?" "i hope he isn't, captain. i should be inexpressibly sorry if he were and i had to report him for it. you know he is in my company." "if you find him frenching i want you to report him," savagely rejoined captain blunt. "don't have any false notions on that subject, mr. drake." "that is a matter of great concern to me, captain," replied robert in tones of anxiety. "i'd almost prefer to bilge than to report your son for a serious matter. he is a splendid fellow; everybody likes him and admires him. but he is undoubtedly reckless and careless. the great trouble to me is that he won't let me speak to him except officially. he is impatient of advice and won't listen to any from me." "mr. drake, i desire and expect you to report him when you ought to do so. don't worry about that." helen, growing impatient at this long conversation, said suddenly, "robert, i made some fudge this morning; won't you come back in the pantry with me and help me bring it out?" as soon as they were out of hearing, she said in a low voice: "harry is up-stairs again, and he can't come down to get away without father seeing him. what shall i do? harry is terribly afraid of his father." "the only advice i can give you, helen, is to tell your father he is there. you can't cover up his tracks, and i don't know anybody except his father who can influence him." this advice to helen seemed too explosive, and she felt she could devise some way herself to protect harry, and she must make him feel that he must never, never do it again. so she remained silent. when they returned to the drawing-room robert felt ill at ease. mrs. blunt, always sympathetically friendly to him, engaged him in talk; but after a few minutes robert got up to take his leave, accompanied by stonewell. "weren't you in a bit of a rush, bob?" inquired stonewell, glancing keenly at his roommate. "perhaps," replied robert uncomfortably. "perhaps you found young blunt eating pie in the pantry," remarked stonewell. "not that close, stone, but i guess he was in the house. now what am i to do? i can just see that before long i'll be in a fix where i'll have to report young blunt for a bilging offense, the son of the man that has every claim to my gratitude--or else i'll have to go back on the strongest principles i possess. what am i to do, stone?" "that's a hard problem; we'll think about it, and perhaps we may be able to intimidate blunt. perhaps i may find a means to influence him. by the way, did you know that the first class has late liberty to-night? penfield is going to play richard the third at the colonial theatre. it's a great opportunity. i went to the commandant, and our class is going to have eleven-thirty liberty. it's penfield's best play; and i already have our tickets. aren't you pleased, bob?" robert looked at his roommate in sheer astonishment. "well, of all things!" he said. "to think of your knowing that for hours and never mentioning it. why, i was talking with mrs. blunt and helen about the play and wishing i could go. i'm immensely pleased. but why didn't you speak of it before, stone?" "oh, i just didn't. in fact i haven't told anybody. the news will be announced at supper formation, so you know it sooner than anybody else does. and we'll have a glorious time." "i'm delighted," cried robert. "stone, this is just fine. bully for old dalton. he's a daisy commandant." chapter xi "three groans for the superintendent" great was the delight of first classmen at the privilege of theatre liberty, a rare privilege for midshipmen; and loud and deep were the indignant murmurs of midshipmen other than first classmen to whom this privilege was not accorded. "there's no reason, no reasonable reason why the second and third classmen should not go," protested third classman blunt at supper. "i'm in favor of the whole third class going in a body; we'll show the authorities what we think of the commandant's ridiculous treatment----" "mr. blunt, you are called to order," rang out the sharp, dictatorial voice of cadet lieutenant drake, sitting at the head of the table. "you are inciting mutiny and speaking disrespectfully of your superior officers." harry blunt was plainly cowed and subsided for a time; but later said in a low tone to a classmate sitting on his right: "i'm going out anyway; it won't be the first time i have gone over the wall." "you'd be recognized at the theatre and spotted, and you'd be missed at taps inspection; you had better not try it," was the reply. "i guess you're right," grumbled harry, "but i've a pretty good trick up my sleeve, and i may work it." later, when the first classmen were all gone and the corridors were deserted, third classman blunt might have been seen to slip into room number 23, the divisional officers' room. and in a few minutes he came out looking perplexed and worried. the colonial theatre was a gay sight that saturday night. all of society annapolis was present, the ladies beautifully gowned, and the men in correct evening dress. annapolis prides itself on being as strict in such matters as newport. interspersed throughout the audience were to be seen many navy uniforms; and well toward the front and centre, in seats reserved for them, were seated as fine a body of young men as had ever been brought together, the senior class of midshipmen. it seemed more like a friendly party than an ordinary audience, for everybody knew everybody else, and before the curtain rose there were innumerable greetings and much pleasant talk. but to the "costume de rigeur" so faithfully observed by the annapolitans, there was one exception. in a back seat of a box, on the right of the stage (a public box where seats were sold separately) sat a man dressed in defiance of social custom. he was simply clothed in a sack coat, and trousers of dark material. he wore a heavy moustache and full pointed beard. however, he didn't seem to know anybody and none appeared to notice him or worry over his unconventional attire. penfield had an appreciative audience that night. never had anything so fine been given at annapolis, and enthusiastic delight was repeatedly expressed. at twenty minutes before ten the bearded man in the box suddenly left and once outside of the theatre he started at a dead run toward the academy grounds. a convenient negro made twenty-five cents by boosting him over the wall. the bearded man rushed on the chesapeake bay side of the armory and bancroft hall, ran over the terrace, and bolted into the open window of room 23. the five minutes' warning bugle was soon heard, to be followed by the call for taps. and in bancroft hall was to be heard the measured tread of the midshipmen on duty making the ten o'clock inspection of rooms. hardly had this ceased when the bearded man emerged from bancroft hall by the same way he had entered it. he was off on a bound and ran through the grounds unobserved. the wall presented no difficulty to him, and he was soon back in his seat in the theatre box. "what luck," he said to himself, with great satisfaction. "i got out in the first place, got back again, was in my bed at taps inspection, and now i'm back here and have missed only a little of the play. and nobody saw me or knows anything about it." the play proceeded. at a little before eleven, near the end, while some scenery was being changed, the manager of the theatre stepped out on the stage and called: "is midshipman stonewell present?" "i am he," replied stonewell, rising in his seat. "i'm sorry, but the superintendent of the naval academy has just telephoned me to have midshipman stonewell send in all midshipmen on the run." before stonewell had a chance to reply or give an order, and before the look of dismay and disappointment had disappeared from his classmates' faces, everybody in the theatre was startled by a loud cry in harsh, strident tones of: "midshipmen and everybody else, attention!" an intense breathless stillness followed. everybody looked to the direction from where the cry had come. there, in the front of the right hand box, stood a tall athletic looking man. now a brown slouch hat was pulled down on his forehead; his face was covered with a dark beard. he wore a sack coat buttoned tightly over his chest. by this penetrating voice everybody's attention was attracted. an expectant hush fell upon the audience. every eye was upon the bearded stranger. from the lips of the interrupter came a defiant call of: "three groans for the superintendent of the naval academy and the commandant. oh--oh--oh." without a moment's hesitation came ringing orders from stonewell: "first classmen, rise! march out on the double. form in two ranks outside." there was no hesitation or delay in obeying stonewell's order. swiftly they ran out of the theatre and halted on the walk outside. and almost immediately they were put in motion by stonewell's order of "first classmen, forward, double time-march," and away they sped. soon fire-bells were heard ringing and the siren in the academy grounds was emitting long, terrifying blasts. "something's afire in the naval academy, bob," cried stonewell; "hurry." the first classmen dashed to the maryland avenue gate and here were met by streams of lower class midshipmen, starting to drag out the different hose reels. the first classmen immediately assumed charge of their various commands. the fire proved to be in the carpen-ter's shop, and in a very few minutes it was put out. after the midshipmen were back in their quarters the one topic of conversation was the startling event in the theatre. the next morning was sunday. shortly after ten o'clock, when the commandant had finished his inspection of rooms, cadet lieutenant drake appeared at the door of midshipman blunt's room and said: "blunt, report to the commandant's office immediately." harry blunt clutched the table as if for support, and with pallid face and in trembling tones he asked: "what does he want me for?" "you'll know when he tells you," and robert walked out. it was not with his usual debonair manner that harry blunt entered the commandant's presence. in fact it was a very scared youth who confronted commander dalton. fear and apprehension were plainly depicted in his face. "mr. blunt," commenced the commandant, "your father, mother and sister are to dine at my house to-day, and i want you to come too. your father tells me he hasn't seen much of you of late; you are not on the first conduct grade, are you? if you are not i'll dispense with the regulation and grant you special permission to dine with an officer to-day." harry blunt suddenly sat down on a chair behind him. he was momentarily speechless. "sit down, mr. blunt," smiled the commandant. then harry stood up. "wa-wa-was that all you wanted to see me for?" he stammered. "yes; we dine at half-past one." "thank you, captain; i'll be delighted to dine with you and be with my father. this is awfully kind of you, captain. oh, thank you; yes, indeed, i'll be there--i don't believe i've ever called on you, captain, but--" "well, well, mr. blunt," interrupted the commandant, "what is the matter with you? at first when you came into my office you seemed to be bereft of speech, and all of a sudden you talk with such a rush that you can't stop yourself. perhaps you thought i was going to talk about something else," and commander dalton glanced keenly at harry. "be at my house by half-past one," repeated the commandant, dismissing harry, and the latter left. he took several deep breaths when out of the commandant's office. "by george," he said, almost aloud, in tones of great relief, "i feared i was up against it. i was never so scared in all my life." chapter xii robert makes a discovery "pete," said robert a few days later, "let's go to the gun shed." "all right," replied the amiable peters, "come along; but what are we to do there? i don't know of any more uninteresting place in the whole academy." "you know that our company is going to try hard to win the flag, don't you?" "of course we are. and so is every other company. don't think for a minute, bob, that you're the only cadet lieutenant who has picked out the girl who's going to present it. but what has the gun shed to do with our company winning the flag?" "it all counts, pete; you know part of the grand multiple each company makes is made up of its record at target practice with six-pounder guns, don't you?" "of course." "well, i received a letter from stanton last week; he says the sights of this gun are very poor. now in our gunnery sections we were all encouraged to make improvements. you see gunnery in the navy is now a matter of terrific competition; it is ship against ship and gun against gun. at each target practice the ship that does the best carries the gunnery trophy for a year, and big money prizes are won by the best gun crews. and officers in command of different guns are encouraged to make improvements. why, just before the spanish war the twelve-inch guns of the 'texas' could only shoot once in five minutes, and then the shots didn't hit often. on her last target practice those same guns fired once a minute and hit the target almost every time. and the improvements were all made by officers aboard the ship." "well, bob, here is your six-pounder gun; just take a look at it. i don't imagine you will be allowed to do much tinkering with it. you don't know a great deal about the gun--not nearly so much as the men who designed and built it--and here you are talking about improving it. you would probably injure rather than improve it." "i know how to work it, anyway, and i have fired a six-pounder a number of times," replied robert, rapidly throwing down a couple of clamps, and turning the gun on its pivot. "i have no notion of touching the mechanism of the gun; but stanton says the gun sights are poor; that anybody could put better sights on the gun." robert now put himself at the rear of the gun, assuming the prescribed position of the man who fired it, holding it securely by the shoulder and hand of his right arm, his left hand being at the trigger. he ran his eye over the gun sights, and moved the gun up and down, and from side to side. "pete," he remarked, "look at this rear sight; it's an open sight--just a mere notch, a groove. and the forward sight is just a sharp point. if i screw my eye up or down, or from side to side, i might think there were many different places the gun would shoot to. when the gun is fired in this exact position the shot is going in only one direction, but i bet you if ten different fellows should aim along these sights as the gun is now and say where the shot was going to hit you would find there were ten different opinions." "of course there would be," replied peters in a superior tone; "there always are with open sights; professional marksmen always use peep-sights." "pete, you're a treasure," cried robert in enthusiastic approval; "we'll fit peep-sights to this gun, but we'll keep it a dead secret, and when we come to fire our string of shots we'll use our own peep-sights." "how are you going to fit peep-sights to this gun and not have everybody else know about it?" asked peters dubiously. "and we only practice with this gun; we will actually fire one of the 'nevada's' six-pounders,--and probably the sight you fitted to this gun wouldn't fit the 'nevada's.'" "let's go aboard the 'nevada'; she's alongside the 'santee' wharf, and we'll talk to the captain. i know him, and we'll ask him to let us fit up the six-pounder we're going to use. there's a gunner's mate named lenn aboard that ship who is a great friend of mine; he's awfully handy with tools, and he'll help me." "but, bob, a captain isn't going to let a midshipman monkey with the guns of his ship." "the 'nevada' is in reserve with a crew of only thirty-five men on board; she's here for the instruction of midshipmen, and besides, we're not going to make any permanent change; we're going to invent a new six-pounder gun sight; we'll just take off the old sights and put in our own peep-sights; the captain can put the other ones back if he wants to." "you talk as if you had already invented your peep-sights and all you had to do was to put them on. now let me tell you, bob, it isn't so all-fired easy. this gun isn't fitted for peep-sights. another thing, the rear sight is attached here to a graduated bar; it moves up and down according to the distance of the target you are firing at, and it also moves from side to side, to allow for the speed of the ship. now you're going to have a good deal of trouble to arrange an entire new kind of sights for this gun." "pete, those are problems that i'm sure can be solved. i don't pretend to say i know just how we can make the change, but i'm going to study the question, and i'm going to get expert help. now let's go over to the 'nevada' and talk with captain brice; we've got to get his consent first; and then i'll get that smart gunner's mate, lenn, to help me; he's a very inventive chap. come along." before long the two midshipmen were aboard the monitor "nevada" and were talking with captain brice. at first the latter was utterly opposed to any "monkeying," as he expressed it, with one of his guns. finally he became interested in robert's earnestness, and relented to the extent of the following ultimatum: "now, mr. drake, i'll allow you to remove the present sights of one of my six-pounders; the sights are kept out of the gun, anyway, for that matter; and in their places you may put in new sights. but you are not to alter the gun in any way; you must fix it so that any sights you put in can be immediately replaced by the regular sights. i'll send for the man you want, lenn, and tell him to give you a hand." chief gunner's mate lenn soon appeared, and he and the two midshipmen repaired to the forward starboard six-pounder on the superstructure deck, where robert explained what he wanted. lenn grasped the idea with avidity. "why, mr. drake," he said, "we can fix up what you want with no trouble at all. a sight is a simple thing--the principle is that the centre line of the gun's bore must be exactly parallel to the line of sight at point-blank range with no speed allowance. now you want a peep-sight. we'll get a hollow cylinder, say an inch in diameter, and an inch or two long; we'll plug the end and drill a fine hole in the end of your plug. there's the peep. and the forward sight will be a ring with cross wires in it. now your line from the peep-hole to the cross wires must be parallel to the axis of the gun. and while i think of it the rear and front sights should be as far apart as possible; i'll tell you what we'll do; we'll carry the sight at the end of a long piece of brass pipe; i've just the stuff in my storeroom. i'll fit a y piece to where the present front sight is, pivot it there and hang the forward part of the pipe in its gimbals. i'll just run a quarter-inch pin through the pipe; and i'll drop the rear end of the brass pipe on this rear sight--i'll have to make a slight alteration in this rear sight----" "you can't change a thing, lenn, you mustn't," interrupted robert. "captain brice will not allow any changes of the gun----" "oh, i've an old condemned rear sight below; i'll use that," smiled lenn. "now we'll fasten our new front cross wire and rear peep-sights to the ends of our brass pipe--why, anybody can see at a glance it will be a far better arrangement than the present poor system." when robert and peters left lenn said: "come aboard the 'nevada' in two days from now and you'll find your new sights on this gun ready for business." on the following saturday, after supper, robert and stonewell were enjoying a pleasant call at the blunt household. captain blunt was telling stonewell of the last target practice his ship had gone through. "why, sir," he said, "if my six-pounders had not done so poorly i would surely have won the trophy; my six-inch guns averaged seven hits a minute, each of the best guns making ten hits. if we had had decent sights for our six-pounders the 'new orleans' would have made the best record of any ship of her class in the navy." robert was eagerly listening, and was much interested, but helen blunt wasn't. "father," she interrupted, "you talk of nothing but guns, guns, guns and hits per minute. now that isn't nearly so interesting to midshipmen as ice-cream and cake. robert, come along to the pantry with me and help me get some." that young man was on the point of asking captain blunt a question about six-pounder gun sights, but helen was already on her way toward the hall; so he thought his question could wait, and he started to join helen. she had gone to the rear of the house, to the pantry next the kitchen. the passageway was dark, but robert knew the way, and he hurried after helen, and soon ran right into her. "you are a regular blunderer, aren't you, robert?" she laughed. "i am trying to turn on the light but can't find the key. what a bother it is that in annapolis all the servants go home at night--and there goes the doorbell. i'll have to go see who it is. now try to find the switch; it's somewhere near on this wall. just feel about and you'll find it. i hope you're not afraid to be left in the dark," was her parting shot, "but the kitchen door is locked, so that no burglars can get in." and helen ran away. robert groped about, but could not find the switch to the electric light, and while he was fumbling his ear caught the noise of a click in the kitchen, as if a door had been unlocked. a moment later he heard a door opened, and with it he felt the draft blow on him. "some one has let himself into the kitchen," thought robert. he kept quite still, wondering who it might be. then he heard footsteps on the kitchen floor; they seemed quite close to him and he felt confident there was an intruder there. he peered through the open door of the pantry into the kitchen, but in the dark could see nothing; suddenly an electric light in the kitchen was turned on, and robert, himself unseen, looked with fascination on the person he saw. there standing by a table was a man with a brown slouch hat drawn down over his eyes, a man with a heavy moustache and dark pointed beard; he was dressed in a dark sack coat, buttoned closely across his chest and wore trousers of a dark material. robert felt his breath come quickly. "what can this man be doing here?" he wondered. "i know him; he's the scoundrel who called for three groans for the superintendent and commandant." robert had a confused idea that the stranger might be a thief and he was wondering what he had best do, when suddenly a feeling of dismay and horror swept over him. the stranger threw off his hat, and with a quick movement of each hand unhooked from around his ears the support of what was evidently a false beard. and the merry face of harry blunt was revealed. it is difficult to analyze robert's feelings, but chief among them was an utter detestation for harry. that a midshipman, himself the son of a splendid officer, should be the miscreant who had so wantonly, so publicly, insulted the highest officers at the naval academy, filled robert with disgust. [illustration: _the stranger threw off his hat_] for a midshipman to take unauthorized leave was a common offense, so also was it for a midshipman to have civilian clothing in his possession. such offenses were committed at great personal risk and when detected brought down upon the offender's head severe punishment, and if repeated it meant dismissal. but reprehensible from a military view-point as it was, such an offense was not dishonorable. since the event at the colonial theatre none at annapolis had ever had the slightest notion that the perpetrator of the insult of that night could be a midshipman; such an idea never was suggested, never even entered any person's mind. and so to robert, his recognition of harry blunt as the culprit was as astounding as it was painful. he loathed harry as an utterly unfit, dishonorable person, who had done shameful wrong to the naval academy. and immediately there arose in robert's mind the knowledge that it was his duty to report harry to the commandant, to report the son of his benefactor. in agonized perplexity robert turned and quietly walked through the dining-room to the hall. "did you find the cakes and things in the pantry, robert?" cried helen seeing him, "or did you get tired waiting for me? mr. farnum called, and he comes so seldom i felt i couldn't run away from him. why, robert, what's the matter? you have such a strange look on your face. what is it?" "i--i couldn't find the light, helen, i----" "oh, come back and try it again. but what is the matter, robert? i'm sure something's the matter." "i'm not feeling well, helen. i--i--have to go--i can't stay,--please say good-night to your father and mother--i really must go," and with utter misery showing in every feature, robert grabbed his hat and bolted out of the house. chapter xiii harry blunt is rebuffed helen blunt was grieved and hurt at robert's strange action. it was incomprehensible to her. the others expressed much surprise at his sudden leaving. after a few minutes helen got the refreshments, but she was much subdued for the rest of the evening, and it was only too evident that the pleasure of the day had gone for her. robert hurried back to the academy and was soon in his room. "i can't report him," he reflected. "i know i'm going back on my rank, on my duty, on my principles, on what i've preached ever since i've been at the academy. the contemptible hound! he ought to be kicked out! it's a shame that such a despicable person should have such a fine father and mother--and--and sister. it's outrageous that he should remain here. but his father saved my father--i can't report him; it would utterly disgrace captain blunt--i'm full of gratitude to him--i suppose i have no right to let that gratitude interfere with my duty; but i can't help myself." for the next hour robert indulged himself in many bitter reflections, but his conclusions were unchanged, and he deliberately determined to keep to himself what he had learned, neither to report harry blunt nor to tell even stonewell what he had seen. stonewell came in a little before ten o'clock. "what's the matter with you, bob?" he asked almost roughly. "do you think you treated the blunts very politely? you spoiled helen's evening, and i could see captain and mrs. blunt were concerned; they must have thought you acted very queerly, to say the least." "i'm sorry, stone--i couldn't help it. please don't talk about it to me." stonewell glanced keenly at his roommate's worried face. "look here, bob, when you went out to the pantry did you see young blunt? has that scamp been frenching again?" "stone, except once, you have practically never discussed your personal matters with me; i never insist on it, intimate as we are. now this is a personal matter of a kind that i just can't talk about; please don't expect me to." "all right, bob; but it's my opinion you feel you ought to report blunt for frenching and you feel you can't because you're under obligation of lasting gratitude to his father; and so you feel you're going back on your principles, and so forth. now you were not on duty; no reasonable man would expect you to violate your own feelings to that extent. so cheer up, bob; i'll tell you right now that if when i'm not on duty i find young blunt frenching in his father's house, i most certainly shall not report him." to this robert made no comment, but in his heart thought that if his roommate knew what a scoundrel blunt was, that stonewell would be the very first to report him. taps soon sounded, and before long robert was in bed; but long hours passed before sleep came to him. "what a lot of terrible rogues i've been mixed up with," was one of the thoughts that came to his mind; "there was hillman, ramsay, williams, and now this detestable blunt. and of them all i fear blunt is the worst." the next afternoon stonewell went to blunt's room and found that young man there alone. "hello, stone," greeted blunt; "but now that football is over perhaps i should say mister stonewell to the five striper." "never mind the 'mister,' blunt. i thought i'd drop around to tell you that i think you are an unintentional cad." "your words are offensive, sir," cried harry, getting angry immediately; "i'm not aware of any naval academy regulation that permits the cadet commander to insult a third classman." "i don't wish to insult you, blunt, and i admit my words require explanation. the point is just this: bob drake, your company commander, is entirely upset about something. he will not talk about it to me, and has no idea of my seeing you about the matter. he was out at your father's house last night, and i've a notion you were frenching out there and he saw you. you probably know he has very strict notions of duty. my idea is that he feels he should report you or else go back on every principle he ever had. and for a particular reason he cannot report you." "oh," replied harry disdainfully, "if the reason is that he is currying favor with helen most people would say drake is the cad." "it isn't your sister, blunt. it's your father, whom he owes a debt of gratitude to." "why should drake be grateful to my father?" exclaimed harry in evident surprise. "for personal reasons. i don't feel at liberty to talk about them, except to say that a couple of weeks ago a kind action on your father's part saved drake from resigning. you see drake cannot report your father's son; and come now, wouldn't a man be a cad to force a man like drake to go back on his principles?" "good old dad," cried harry impulsively; "i was a cad, but i'm glad you said unintentionally so. i'd have had no use for drake if it had been on helen's account. but really i didn't know drake saw me last night. are you sure he did?" "i have just imagined so; you ought to know whether he did or not. he was at your house last night; at half-past eight he went out in the pantry to get something and all of a sudden bolted out of the house. he won't speak of the matter even to me, but he has been miserable ever since." "by jove!" ejaculated harry. "perhaps he saw me in the cit's clothes; that would be a bilging spot,[2] wouldn't it?" [footnote 2: a report involving dismissal.] "i shouldn't wonder," remarked stonewell, drily. "stonewell, i'm obliged to you, and i'll tell you right now i won't give drake another chance to report me for frenching; i'm awfully sorry the thing happened. i'll tell him i'll do the square thing hereafter." in the meantime robert and peters had gone aboard the "nevada"; lenn saw them coming. "come up above," he said to them; "i've something to show you." when robert saw what this something was he was delighted. lenn had fitted up the forward starboard six-pounder gun with the gun sights they had talked about. "i've bore sighted the gun, mr. drake. just train the gun on that white stone on the shore over there; look through your peep-sight and get the gun exactly on it. all right. now shift your eye to the bore; the bore sights are in the gun. now what do you say?" "it's wonderful," cried robert; "are these bore sights in the exact centre of the gun?" "within a hair's breadth." "both the new gun sights and the bore sights are pointing at the white stone. the stone is over half a mile away. that means the line of the gun sights is parallel to the axis of the gun, doesn't it?" "it does, indeed," replied lenn, much pleased with robert's enthusiastic approval. "let me see," insisted peters, pushing robert away from the breech of the gun. "gee, but this is splendid," he called out a moment later. "say, bob, if you keep this quiet you'll make the gunnery record next june." "lenn, can we prevent people from seeing these sights?" "surely. i'll take them down when you leave; it only takes a minute to take them off the gun. i'll keep them in my storeroom when you're not using them; but, mr. drake, if you expect to make a good target record you'll have lots of work to do. you'll have to get your crew here day after day, for at least half an hour's drill. i'll be here to help you." "good. and thank you, lenn; i'll start to-morrow." and the two midshipmen left the ship. "now, pete," said robert, "we must organize to win the flag. our company is well represented in all forms of athletics; we have football and baseball stars in it; now you and i and glassfell and a couple of others will quietly drill with this gun. and at target practice we'll spring a great surprise on everybody. whom had we better put in the gun's crew with us?" "well, let's see. there's young blunt, he's a----" "don't speak of that fellow to me," interrupted robert savagely. "why, bob, what has he done; why are you so down on him?" inquired peters, utterly surprised at robert's vehemence. "i want nothing to do with him. i don't wish to talk about him." "all right, old man, i'll think of some one else. will see you later." as soon as robert saw his roommate later in the day, he began eagerly to tell him of his plans. "i'm going out to win the flag, stone. my company stands as good a chance, better, i believe, than any other company to win it. but i'm going to make sure of it. now you drill with my company, and what you individually do will count." "of course. and i'll do all i can. i want you to come out for the crew, bob; you've pulled in two winning races----" "i can't, stone; now just listen to what i've done," and robert told stonewell of the new six-pounder gun sights and of what he expected to accomplish. "you see i'll not be able to come out for racing shell practice, and besides, you don't need me--my company is well represented in all athletics and if we win at target practice we'll get the flag." here the door was thrown open and harry blunt entered. robert jumped to his feet, and with flashing eyes and in angry tones asked: "what do you want, sir?" "why, drake," replied harry, completely taken back by this hostile reception, "i just thought i would tell you that if any act of mine has disturbed you, if i have forced you in a false position, i extremely regret it; i hope you will have no further concern because of me." "mr. blunt, will you please leave my room? i despise you and i want nothing whatever to do with you." "this is decent of you, blunt, and i thank you for coming in," suddenly interposed stonewell. "i know your motive, and it's all right!" harry blunt stood in the doorway utterly chagrined. tears came into his eyes and his chin quivered. then without comment he left the room. stonewell was extremely provoked. "he came in at my suggestion," he angrily said. "i believe you," replied robert calmly. "i don't like the way you have acted. i don't understand you." "stone, i despise blunt. there is a reason. you think you know it, but you are mistaken. now, old friend, i cannot talk this matter over with you; i can but ask you to trust me, also to avoid discussing that young man when i am around." stonewell was not inclined at first to be satisfied with this, but he soon decided to drop the matter; and several months passed before midshipman harry blunt was discussed between them. chapter xiv a mystery solved the end of march brought with it to annapolis a veritable blizzard; the ground everywhere was covered with snow. the soft snow, clinging to the tree branches, had commenced to melt, when promise of good weather suddenly changed to sharp cold, followed by another snow-storm. the intense cold had turned the trees into glistening skeletons, and the powdered white falling upon them made a beautiful picture, but the weight caused many branches to break, and annapolis presented a most wintry spectacle. and then of a sudden out burst the sun, sending down hot rays that in a few days turned winter into spring. in but a short time all the trees were budding and spring, turning rapidly into summer, came with leaps and bounds and the bleak desolate days were soon forgotten. there remained to robert drake but two months more of academy life--two months of deep contentment. he surveyed his previous four years and drew much satisfaction in contemplating them. he was sure to graduate high in his class, with probably only stonewell, farnum, sewall and ryerson ahead of him. he had had troubles, but everything now seemed clear sailing before him. midshipmen enjoy these last months of the school year. out of town friends by the hundreds come to annapolis, and after drills and on saturdays and sundays, the naval academy grounds are thronged with pretty girls, each flanked by at least one midshipman, and some by ten. every afternoon saw the midshipmen at their infantry or artillery drills, marching and executing military movements with precision that betokened much practice; or if not on the parade grounds the young men were to be seen in the steam launches, or else in the shops. after drill hours till seven o'clock four racing shells were out on the severn river. the athletic field was sure to be crowded by baseball players; the tennis-courts always had a waiting list. and far off on the superstructure deck of the "nevada," unknown and unseen by other midshipmen, were robert drake and four classmates, practicing loading and aiming with a six-pounder gun. day after day this drill went on, always in recreation times. robert took the shoulder-piece, finger on trigger, keeping his gun aimed at some boat moving in the severn river. he was, according to the prescribed gun drill, "first pointer." peters was the "sight setter." he ran up the rear sight according to the distance away of the object aimed at, and also he would move the rear sight to the right or left, according to the speed the boat was moving. glassfell was loader, and as such acting gun captain. robert picked out two other classmates, taylor and warren, to act as shell-men. "all ready now, fellows," cried glassfell, late one beautiful april day; "let's have one more drill to-night and then we'll knock off. we'll start with the gun empty and breech closed. lenn, you throw down the breech as usual after each make-believe shot--you won't have to when we really fire the gun because the gun is semi-automatic and the discharge of one shot opens the breech, ready to load the next one." "i learned that years ago, mr. glassfell. but i'll open the breech for you. we're all ready, sir." "load," rang out glassfell's voice. down went the breech, and instantly glassfell threw in a dummy cartridge, and up slammed the breech, closing the gun with a click. robert snapped the trigger, and instantly lenn threw down the breech; the dummy was ejected and glassfell threw in another cartridge. this was repeated again and again, until lenn called out "time." "that was well done, sir; you loaded and fired twenty-nine times in a minute; i kept time; there wasn't a hitch. you have a well-trained crew, mr. drake." on the way back, robert met helen blunt walking with her brother. there was no question but that helen expected robert to stop and speak with her. she slackened her pace a bit, bowing to robert with a sort of mute reproach in her manner; robert hesitated a moment, then turned and joined her, while harry blunt walked on ahead, neither he nor robert giving any greeting. "what's the matter? don't you and harry speak?" asked helen, in a surprised, hurt way. "midshipmen never seem to have time for that sort of thing," said robert, trying to speak lightly. "men of different classes seldom speak unless they are particular friends. let's go down to the sea-wall, helen, and watch the shells; i do hope we'll win this year; we ought to, we've splendid men on the crew. what have you been doing lately? i haven't seen you for an age, and there's----" "well, whose fault is that?" interrupted helen with some spirit; "you bolted out of the house the other night as though you feared contagion, and i haven't seen you or heard from you since. i should think you would have something to tell me or explain." "yes, yes, helen, i have ever so many things i want to speak to you about," and then robert dropped into silence as they walked along. "we've been such friends," said helen quietly, "and had so many unforeseen things happen, that it seems as though we ought to get along without any more misunderstandings in the future; and yet we seem to be having one now. you have suddenly stopped coming to see me; surely there was a reason, robert; what was it?" robert felt supremely miserable and uncomfortable; he did not know what to say. there was a reason, and yet he could not tell it to this sympathetic and congenial girl whose friendship he was so anxious to keep; he could not tell this reason, nor could he pretend there was none. it would be no act of kindness to captain blunt to inform him of the unworthiness of his son. and so robert did not wish helen to know that harry was in any way concerned with the matter helen wished to talk about. "what's the reason, robert?" repeated helen with her eyes full of interest and concern. just then, the far-away bell of the "santee" was struck four times. "six o'clock," exclaimed robert; "we've a whole hour before supper; let's walk along the sea-wall to college creek and back; we'll just have time to do it." poor robert then relapsed into silence; he was happy to be with his friend again and eager to tell her that he could not explain his peculiar conduct; but he could not talk. his mind was in confusion, yet seemed a blank; and the trivial things about him took a prominence that in milder moods would have remained unnoticed. he noted with the eye of a naturalist a squirrel that scampered across their path, and ran along the fence, disappearing up a maple tree; two robins were scolding and fussing in the tree top near their nest. and from the coxswain of the racing shell, out in the severn river, came regularly, like the tick-tock of a clock, the monotonous words--"stroke--stroke--stroke." thump, thump, thump went his heart. "stroke--stroke--stroke," called out the ruthless coxswain to his tired crew on the river a quarter of a mile away. robert did not know what to say. his heart was so full he could not speak lightly. helen looked straight ahead and said nothing, waiting no doubt for robert to begin his explanation. each was intensely uncomfortable. after maryland avenue was crossed, helen turned to her companion and wistfully said: "i thought you had so much to talk with me about, robert; but you haven't said a word. what is the matter; are we not good friends? or is there some misunderstanding which prevents our talking to each other?" "oh, helen," cried he, "i'm awfully disturbed about something. it is of such a peculiar nature that i can't talk about it to any one. can't you trust me and not ask me to explain myself? you see sometimes things occur that a midshipman can't talk about--it has nothing to do with any action of yours or mine,--i think so much of your friendship that it distresses me to appear as if i had any other feeling----" "robert, if you really are so anxious for my friendship, what naval academy affair could happen that would send you running out of my house and that would prevent you coming to see me?" then a great light broke upon her, and stopping suddenly, she confronted robert and said excitedly: "robert drake, i understand at last. you saw harry that night, after i left you in the pantry. it was your duty, i suppose, to report him and you didn't do so because of--of the rest of us. and you haven't called since because you are afraid you will see him again. i'm right, i know i'm right!" robert looked helplessly at her, and then said: "helen, you and i have been good friends, haven't we? and can't good friends expect favors of one another? now i've a real favor to ask of you, and it's this. don't think of this matter, and please, oh, please, don't talk about it. don't talk about it to your father and mother; i beg of you don't refer to the matter in any way." "robert, i really will do as you want me to, though i don't see why you have been so much upset. harry isn't frenching any more; he has promised me not to do that again. and even if he should you will not know of it or see him at my home; but i'm confident he won't, now that he has given me his word. won't you come next saturday and have supper with us? and bring mr. stonewell and mr. farnum with you." robert returned to his room in a happy mood. he had worried much at how the blunts would look upon his abrupt action, and of his sudden avoidance of their home. he had decided not to call so as to take no chance of seeing harry blunt there, and he knew he could never explain the reason of his action to any of the blunts. but now he felt that helen, in a way at least, understood; she would require no further explanation and would not gossip about his reasons. and also he believed that helen would so arrange it that he would run no chance of seeing harry blunt at her home when that young man had no right to be outside of the academy grounds. and so robert felt more light-hearted than for many days, so much so that after supper, while preparing for the next day's recitation, stonewell, who knew his roommate's every mood, looked up smiling and said: "well, bob, what is it; have you won the flag ahead of time, or have you made up with helen blunt? i've noticed you haven't been going to her house much of late; and for some time past you've been as glum as a russian bear." "never you mind, stone, i'm just feeling pretty fit, that's all." ten o'clock soon came, and with it out went the lights in bancroft hall and a perfect stillness broken only by the tread of midshipmen making taps inspection. soon this measured tread ceased and complete silence reigned. and then out of this profound stillness came again that terrible cry, shrieked out in affright, startling every midshipman in the armory wing of bancroft hall. "help! help!" far away it first seemed, and yet it was plainly heard. with lightning speed stonewell leaped from his bed and jumped into his clothes. "turn out, bob," he cried. "i've a job to do, and won't be with you; turn out everybody in armory wing; tell farnum to have everybody fall in by companies on the ground and first floors," and stonewell dashed from the room. again the weird shriek sounded, now heard much plainer. robert had followed stonewell out of the room, and ran down the corridor shouting: "turn out, everybody! company officers, get your companies together!" midshipmen from all the rooms poured into the corridors. "help, help, save me, save me!" in agonized fearful tones were resounding throughout the building. and these cries became clearer on the lower floors. they seemed to have started from above and to have come down gradually. "help, help," rang out the cry, now apparently on the first floor; it seemed to come right from the midst of a throng of midshipmen falling into their places in company formation; these were entirely mystified. and then the cry descended and was heard on the floor below, the ground floor. "where is stone?" asked robert of farnum; "do you know where he went? he said he had a job to do." "i turned out when i heard that awful yell," replied farnum, "and i saw stone run down these stairs into the basement. i wonder why he went down there." robert and farnum were standing before the first division of midshipmen in the middle of the corridor, just in front of the stairway that led to the basement. "where is mr. stonewell?" called the officer-in-charge, lieutenant-commander brooks; "look overhead in each corridor--what's that going on on the stairway?" he suddenly exclaimed, interrupting himself. a midshipman was seen fairly running up the dark stairway, dragging by the collar of his coat another midshipman, who was vainly endeavoring to regain his balance and foothold. the first midshipman was stonewell. in a moment he had reached the head of the stairway, and then, with a mighty effort, he hurled his heavy burden from him. "it's bligh," cried out robert. "what does this mean, mr. stonewell?" demanded lieutenant-commander brooks, in wondering accents. fourth classman bligh presented a rueful, crestfallen figure. stonewell had handled him with no gentle force, and at the head of the stairway had thrown bligh violently from him; and he now lay in a heap on the floor. but evidently he was not seriously injured, for he commenced to sob convulsively. stonewell came up to lieutenant-commander brooks and quietly said: "sir, some time ago i thought i learned the source of the mysterious cries we heard then and which were repeated a few minutes ago. i went up into the tower and saw a boatswain's chair in the ventilating shaft which leads from the top of the building to the basement. this boatswain's chair was on a long rope which led through a pulley block overhead, and by it a man can lower himself from the top of the building to the basement in the ventilating shaft--i suppose it's there so that a person can lower himself to make any repairs that are needed in the shaft. when i heard the cry to-night i ran to the basement--to the opening of the ventilating shaft--and before long i could see somebody coming down. i didn't know who it was, but suspected it was bligh, and it was. he gave his last yell when he was even with this floor. then he lowered himself to the bottom and i collared him just as he got down." mr. bligh was a pitiable spectacle. "it was only a joke, sir," he gasped incoherently. "i meant to do no harm, sir; it was just a little fun. mr. stonewell had no occasion to use me so roughly--he hurt me, sir." "go to my office immediately, sir," ordered lieutenant-commander brooks. "i will attend to your case later. mr. stonewell, you have done well, as usual. dismiss the battalion, turn everybody in, and have the usual inspection made," and the officer-in-charge left and returned to his office. fourth classman henry bligh got up slowly. he looked from face to face; not one friendly expression did he find. full of pent-up feelings which he dared not express bligh turned and left. "dismiss the battalion, sir," ordered cadet commander stonewell to cadet lieutenant-commander farnum. "companies are dismissed," rang out through the corridor. "go to your rooms immediately and turn in. company officers make the usual taps inspection." chapter xv stonewell receives a letter when henry bligh became a midshipman he was not at all a vicious young man. but he arrived at annapolis with an unformed character. his predominating trait was a desire for applause, and early in his fourth class year his football ability had many times earned for him vociferous applause. it was his predominating desire, a passion to become personally famous, that had urged him to give the signal for the gates forward pass when playing against harvard--the dishonor attached to the act had not been clearly fixed in his mind. the immediate result, his dismissal from the football squad in disgrace, his execration by the entire brigade of midshipmen--the change of his position from one of bright fame to contemptuous disesteem, had immediate effect upon the unformed character of mr. henry bligh. he was plunged in the blackest of gloom and he brooded day and night over his troubles. it was a pity he had no close friend to talk with, no older midshipman to be advised by. amongst the midshipmen there had been a burst of anger against him and then he had been left entirely alone. no organized "coventry" was declared against him, but a most effective, far-reaching one existed. its direct result was to make bligh continually unhappy, and this engendered in him passionate anger. anger must find an object, and bligh's directed its full force upon stonewell and blunt. the former, so he believed, had been the cause of all of his troubles; the latter had supplanted him at football, had defeated him in a personal fight. on that first night when the midshipmen of bancroft hall had been so startled by the awful cry of "save me," bligh had been in the basement; he heard the cries and found farnum, out of his head, seated in the boatswain's chair at the bottom of the ventilating shaft. bligh of course immediately knew what had happened, but he kept this knowledge to himself. on the night spoken of in the last chapter, bligh had been on the sick list, and therefore was excused from company muster. it occurred to him that he could perpetrate this act and scare the hundreds of midshipmen who had showered such contumelious treatment upon him. it really would have been a good joke had it succeeded, but unfortunately for bligh his detection rendered his position almost unbearable. he had been roughly treated by stonewell; and now whenever he passed a cadet officer he was halted and given directions. "brace up, mr. bligh, put your heels together, little fingers on the seams of your trousers, chest out, belly in, head up, chin in." had the joke been done by glassfell or perhaps any upper classman it would have been laughed at. but to have been perpetrated by a plebe was an indignity to time-honored midshipman custom. and that the plebe should have been mr. bligh made the act worse than an indignity; it was an unbearable thought. and so for a while plebe bligh figured on every delinquency conduct report. cadet officers suddenly discovered that fourth classman bligh's hair was too long, his clothes not brushed, his shoes not shined. bligh grew nearly frantic, morning after morning, at hearing such a report read out as: "bligh, wearing torn trousers at morning inspection. "same, soiled collar at same. "same, not properly shaved at same." bligh, much as he was to be blamed, really was to be pitied. no midshipman was ever more friendless, ever more in need of kindly direction. under some circumstances he might have developed a useful character, a high standard of thought and action. but in his lonely life there was nothing but black, bitter hopelessness. bligh was in a state of mind to yield to dark temptation if it presented itself. had his mental state been known some one might have taken him in hand and befriended him and directed his thoughts to more wholesome subjects. but bligh made no advances to any one and in sad silence unknown and unthought of, brooded tempestuously. beautiful may once more held dominion over man and nature at annapolis. for the midshipmen there were studies, to be sure, but the studies were all reviews of previous lessons and therefore were easy. and then there were drills, but these, this last month, were always in the presence of hundreds of visitors and therefore of particular interest to the midshipmen drilling. cadet lieutenant drake, marching his company across the parade ground, and giving in stentorian tones such orders as: "squads right, full step, march," "company shoulder arms, double time march!" felt particularly important in so doing, and thought all eyes were on him; and little fourth classman mumma, handling a rifle instead of a sword, and obeying instead of giving orders, knew in his own mind that the people were really looking at him, so he was filled with pride and martial ardor; and so with all of the rest of them. and after drills were over the academy grounds were thronged with midshipmen and their friends, and the happiness ushered in at annapolis by every may seemed to enter all hearts. robert drake now frequently called at the blunt household and always found a warm greeting there. harry blunt gladdened his mother's heart by getting on the first conduct grade, and so at times was to be seen in his father's house on authorized liberty. robert never spoke to him, and though helen wondered why he should so cling to animosity against her brother, and thought him unreasonable, yet she contrived it that robert and harry were never at the same time together in the house. "bob," remarked stonewell the next sunday morning, just after the commandant had finished room inspection, "this is a glorious day; what do you say to a ramble? let's go across the river and strike into the woods; i know a trail through there, where the woods are wonderfully thick; it will be beautiful to-day." "do you mean the path that leads by two old chestnut trees, trees of enormous size and now almost dead?" inquired robert. "yes, that's the place; those trees must be hundreds of years old. then wild flowers and ferns will be out, all so fresh and lovely this time of year. don't you just long for the woods when the spring-time comes?" "indeed i do, stone," cried robert, "and this will be a fine day for a stroll." soon the bugles rang out their call for brigade formation and hundreds of midshipmen rushed out on the terrace. here the companies were rapidly formed and then cadet commander stonewell came to an about face, saluted and reported: "sir, the brigade is formed." upon this the commandant, accompanied by a staff of officers and cadet officers, passed in front of the long line, scanning each midshipman closely, and corrected those who were careless in dress. the ranks were then closed and the brigade was marched to the chapel. after service was concluded the midshipmen were dismissed and robert and stonewell went back to their rooms together. in their absence mail had been distributed, and on the table in their room lay two letters, one for robert, the other for his roommate. robert's letter was from his father, and was full of cheering home news, and it was eagerly read by the young man. "by george, stone, father enjoys his work with the light house board ever so much. he says----why, stone, old chap, what is the matter?" stonewell was standing at the open window, looking blankly across the waters of the chesapeake bay. in his left hand, crushed, was the letter he had just received. his face was drawn, and in it robert recognized an expression he had seen but once before. intense apprehension and worry, perhaps fear, shone from stonewell's eyes. apparently he was oblivious to his roommate's question, for he took no notice of it. "what's the matter, stone?" again cried robert, rising from his chair, and going to his roommate. "oh, bob, excuse me for not answering your question--i was--i was thinking of something else." "but have you had bad news? you surely have, stone. can't you talk it over with me? just think how much good you did me when i had bad news." stonewell gave robert a look of great affection and said: "thank you, old friend, there is no one on earth i would talk with so quickly as i would with you. and it may be that i will want to talk something over with you later, but just at present, bob, there is nothing i could say--you must excuse me." and with that stonewell picked up his hat and strode from the room. robert was full of surprise and worry. it was plainly evident that stonewell was under deep emotion, and just like him, he could not or would not speak of the matter that so affected him. "i wish he would talk it over with me," thought robert; "it always makes a fellow feel better if he tells his worries to a true friend. what a lot of times old stone has helped me in my troubles--and some of them were big ones, too! when we take our walk this afternoon i'll try to get him to tell me." robert now went out in the grounds, thinking he might meet his roommate, but he did not, and as they sat at different mess tables he had no chance to talk with stonewell until after dinner. as soon as they were dismissed after dinner robert found his roommate, and said: "come along, stone, let's start out right away; it's a beautiful day and we'll have a glorious ramble." "bob, i can't go; i find i have some letters i must write; get somebody else to go with you, old fellow--i wish i could go, but i really can't." robert looked blankly at stonewell. his anticipations of a pleasant walk suddenly vanished and the day seemed dreary. he knew his roommate too well to try to expostulate or argue with him. "i'm awfully sorry, bob," continued stonewell, laying an affectionate arm on robert's shoulder, and with real concern noticing robert's evident disappointment. "i do wish i could go with you, but i really can't." "i think i'll write some letters too," remarked robert in a dull, forlorn sort of way. "oh, don't waste this beautiful afternoon that way!" said stonewell; "why don't you get helen to take a walk with you; she's probably thinking you may call to-day." "i'm going to write some letters," reiterated robert stolidly. "why, bob, that's ridiculous; go out and enjoy the day," urged stonewell; "it will be awfully tiresome remaining indoors all afternoon." but robert was as immovable as he knew stonewell to be; the latter seemed more anxious for robert to go out than the circumstances called for. in a few minutes both were in their room, writing, and both ill at ease. as a matter of fact neither wanted to write letters. "stone, i want you to tell me what has been bothering you," robert finally blurted out. "you have helped me any number of times and i have never done a thing for you." "you are constantly helping me, every day," replied stonewell; "you can have no idea of how your opinion and regard for me have kept me braced up. i know that my course here at annapolis is considered a successful one; i know, bob, you think i am superior to you. now i know i'm not; you have qualities of steadfastness, of decision of character that i can never hope for. i have a certain faculty of quickly solving problems that has given me my class rank, but, bob, i know you have qualities that will outlast mine; and it is your attitude of mind toward me that has kept me striving, and to you is largely due the success i have won here. so never again say you have not helped me. you have been my constant inspiration. now, bob, you think there is something on my mind. if there is, it does not concern myself, and i assure you i want to forget it; and i cannot talk about it even with you. but i promise you i will come immediately to you if the slightest thing should arise in which you could help me. so oblige me, bob, by dismissing this matter from your mind." robert listened like one astonished. that he could have been of such help to his roommate he had never imagined and the thought of it made him very happy. "bob," continued stonewell with his rare smile, "i'm sure helen blunt will be surprised if you don't drop around to see her this fine afternoon, and as that scamp of a brother of hers is on the first conduct grade it won't hurt if you see him at her home." "all right, stone," rejoined robert, cheerily. "i see you want to be alone and i won't bother you any more; but i'm sorry you're going to miss that stroll across the river. i'm much obliged, old chap, if you think i ever helped you; i never knew i had, and i'm very happy at the thought. i think i'll see if i can find helen and persuade her to take a walk." chapter xvi bligh makes a friend "well, robert drake, i'm glad to see you; i was hoping you might come over this afternoon," exclaimed helen blunt as robert appeared on the porch of her home; "suppose we go out for a walk. i want to do an errand for mother in conduit street; and then suppose we walk over the bridge and go through eastport; there are some gorgeous woods beyond there. come along." "that's just what i wanted to do," replied robert as they started off. "but did you really expect me to-day? to tell you the truth, stonewell and i first intended to spend the afternoon in the woods across the river, but he found he had to write some letters, so he decided not to go out to-day." "so i come next after stonewell, do i, robert?" queried helen. "i'll tell you where you stand--as one of the best friends a fellow ever had," replied robert earnestly. "it is not a question of standing next to stonewell; he's just like a big brother to me; do you know, helen, he is one of the most remarkable characters alive; why, if he had studied law i believe he would some day be president of the united states. he excels in everything, and besides all that he is just the best fellow imaginable." "he is indeed a splendid, a most superior man, robert, but i believe mr. stonewell isn't really as ambitious as you are, that he is more influenced by your extravagant opinion of him than he is by the abstract desire to excel as a naval officer. you see it is so easy for him to excel if he only half tries. but, robert, as much as i admire him, i do not feel that i really know him. and come now, after rooming with him for four years, do you feel you know his intimate thoughts? are you really certain that you know mr. stonewell just as he knows you?" "indeed i do," robert stoutly maintained. "i know all about him. i know he's one of the finest fellows that ever lived." "and you know all about him, do you?" "of course i do." "and he couldn't go walking with you to-day because he had some letters to write?" "that was the reason; but, helen, it seems to me you are asking some very odd questions." "i know i am, but while we've been walking down here, you have been looking this way. suppose you look around in the other direction and tell me who you see walking at such a rapid rate--i don't mean on main street, but down conduit street, where we will turn in a minute." robert did so, and to his intense surprise saw stonewell. the latter evidently had not seen helen or her companion. he was swinging down conduit street with rapid strides, perhaps a hundred yards ahead of them. robert was so amazed that he could say nothing. it was now evident to him that stonewell had received news of some nature that caused him to break his engagement to go walking, news that brought him in this great hurry on conduit street, a part of annapolis not much frequented by midshipmen; and news that he certainly did not care to discuss with his most intimate friend. "now what do you think of that, mr. robert?" cried helen triumphantly. "he broke his engagement to write some letters, and as soon as you leave he rushes out to conduit street. there, he's gone into that big yellow house. now, do you think you know as much about mr. stonewell as he does about you?" robert was silent. he too thought it was queer. he was too loyal in his friendship to stonewell to tell helen of the misgivings he had felt since he had seen his roommate so affected by that morning letter. and stonewell's action now was decidedly mystifying. robert instinctively knew his roommate was in deep trouble and he longed to know of the burden upon him and to share it with him. "do forgive me, robert," said helen a little later, noticing how sober he had become. "i'm awfully sorry i called your attention to mr. stonewell; i know how devoted you are to your friends. let's try and forget about it and be happy. we'll go into the woods and gather some violets and dogwood--the woods are so pretty now--full of moss and ferns--let's walk fast." robert was cheered up a bit, and when they had finished their errand on conduit street they hastened to the woods. leaving their troubles behind them, these young people were soon in a happy, merry mood. the woods were soon deep about them, and they drank deep breaths from the forest-perfumed air. robert told helen the great secret of his gun drill and the means he had taken to win the flag. "and, helen, if my company wins it i am going to ask you to present it; if we win it that will be my privilege." helen was enthusiastic, of course, for the greatest glory a girl ever wins at annapolis is to be chosen to present the colors to the winning company. "you'll win it, i'm sure you will," she cried; and then, woman-like, she immediately became deeply pensive. "why so quiet?" queried robert. "oh, i was thinking about what kind of a dress i shall wear, and i must have a new hat too,--i'm sure you'll win, robert, just as sure as though it had really happened." mr. henry bligh continued to lead, in a crowded community of light-hearted young men, a solitary life. he commenced to experience a certain kind of cruel pleasure in being the martyr he considered himself to be. calm though he outwardly was his mind was in a continual ferment, with a direct result that he was never in a humor to study; naturally he did poorly in his daily recitations and worse in examinations. the time for the annual examinations was now near and bligh knew he had but little hope of passing. only by heroic effort could he hope to make a satisfactory mark for his final average and thus become a third classman. bligh was in no mental state to make this required heroic effort. in fact it was practically certain that he would fail and be required to resign. one saturday in the middle of may, bligh went out in the city of annapolis and walked around in an aimless way. he wandered in the state house grounds and finally sat down on an iron bench near the statue of chief justice taney. after a few minutes he observed a young man approach on the walk that led by his bench. bligh gave him a careless glance, and as the young man passed he happened to look at him again. and then a startling change came over mr. henry bligh. his eyes seemed to bulge from their sockets; involuntarily he half arose from his seat; his breath came in quick gasps; he gave every evidence of complete amazement. then he suddenly sank back, relaxed and gave himself over to uncontrolled merriment. "oh, what a joke," he cried; "oh, my, oh, my!--who would believe it?" it had been long since bligh had laughed so heartily. and it was strange indeed, because there was nothing particularly remarkable in the appearance of the young man who had so affected bligh. he was dressed in a well made gray suit and wore a straw hat. his features were undeniably handsome. he had a broad forehead, and under heavy eyebrows there gleamed a pair of thoughtful gray eyes; he was tall and powerfully built, and walked with a swinging gait. before the civilian had gone far, bligh arose, in a hesitating way, and half-heartedly followed him. the stranger walked around state house circle into main street, and turned down that street; bligh followed. soon he apparently gathered courage and drew nearer to the man ahead. the latter went into a drug store, stopped at the fountain and seemingly ordered a summer drink. bligh had a good look at him through the open door, pausing there for a moment; then he went inside and stood by the counter and ordered an orange phosphate. [illustration: _he half arose from his seat_] "it's a good cooling drink for warm weather," he observed to the young man on his right, looking squarely at him. "indeed it is," replied that person, looking at bligh with friendly interest; "but try a lime phosphate some time; the west indian lime is very cooling." "i will," replied bligh heartily. "you're a stranger here, aren't you?" "yes, and i see you are a midshipman. i've heard lots about the naval academy; it's a fine place, isn't it? i imagine midshipmen live a most interesting life." "some do, i suppose; i know others who don't. some fellows here make a false start, slip up on something, you know, and get in a bad light, and after that they have no chance; everybody gets down on them." bligh spoke bitterly. "that's pretty hard luck," observed the stranger; "my sympathy always goes to a fellow in that fix. even if he does slip up once there may be lots of good left in him, and a man should not be utterly condemned for one mistake. that isn't fair at all. if i had to choose a friend between two men, one of whom had been careless in some act and acknowledged it, and the other was of the i-am-better-than-thou-class, i'd take the first fellow for a friend every time. but my thoughts can hardly interest you,--i don't suppose they apply to you at all," and the speaker turned a thoughtful, penetrating glance upon bligh. tears suddenly gushed from bligh's eyes, and in a broken voice he said: "see here, you are the first man that has spoken to me in a friendly way for months." bligh showed genuine emotion and feeling when he spoke. he was totally friendless, and he suddenly felt great pity for himself. "why, my dear fellow," exclaimed his newly-made acquaintance, "you will pardon me for my inadvertent remarks--but suppose we take a walk; come over to my rooms, and if you feel like it talk things over with me--i don't know you, but i want to know you. i don't believe i see anything bad in your face, though i imagine there is sadness there." these kind words were to bligh like heaven-sent manna. until this moment he had no conception of how he yearned for just one single friend, one person who believed there was good in him, one to whom he could open his heart and pour out its griefs. instantly this newly-made friendship became precious, and he felt brighter and happier than he had for months. sincerity and kindness were written in the features of this new friend. bligh spent several hours with him in his rooms, and acquainted him with the troubles, mistakes and heartburnings that were his daily portion in his now unfortunate condition; in doing this he saw himself in a new light; and now when his new friend pointed out where he was blameworthy, where he had been wrong, he eagerly assented. for this grave friend, sympathetic though he was to the sad story that rushed from bligh's lips, in a kindly spirit severely criticized bligh for his wrong actions. he laughed heartily at bligh's woeful story of how he had lowered himself in the ventilating shaft. "that was good, mr. bligh," he said; "but it's a great pity that you were caught." when bligh returned to his quarters he was like a different man; more happiness to his wounded spirit had come to him this day than he had had for months. "if i had only had a friend like this when the year commenced," he reflected, "my life here would have been different. but now i'm afraid it's too late; i'm pretty sure to bilge." chapter xvii an ill-favored, red-bearded rogue "bob, i think i've got the flag this year," remarked cadet lieutenant blair, to his fellow three striper, robert drake; "everybody says my company is better than yours in artillery; i've an even chance with you at infantry--members of my company have had part in baseball and football games, fencing, rowing, tennis, gymnasium and all other contests. the second company, i think, will get the most points in seamanship, and i have more trained marksmen than you have. i've got you beaten, bob, old boy." "don't you be too sure of that, sam; the first company has a notion it wants to carry the colors next year; and look here, sam, i'll put you on to something if you'll agree to keep quiet about it." "what is it, bob? i'll keep mum," replied blair expectantly, impressed by robert's earnest manner. "the first company is going to try to win the flag, and i'm going to spring a big surprise on you." "pshaw! is that your news? perhaps i'll spring a surprise on you." "go ahead if you can, sam, but i warn you now that i have done something toward winning the flag that you don't know anything about. it's in line with advice that was given to all of us months ago, and what i've done is perfectly proper and legitimate. i'll tell you frankly that because of special preparation i have made, i expect the first company will have a higher final multiple than your company will have." "what was the advice you refer to, bob? i don't recall any." "by the way, haven't you been doing some special stunts in seamanship? haven't some old boatswain's mates been giving your men some extra drill in handling sail?" "never mind about that, bob; if i have done special work in seamanship i'm not bound to tell you what it is. but what was the advice you spoke of?" "sam, we'll be on the square with each other. i learned accidentally that you were getting specially coached in seamanship; well, i'm doing special work in gunnery. it's a fair field and no favor, and may the best company win." "good. some of the fellows have been figuring up the points already known to be credited to the different companies; more than half of the points are already made, you know, and as it happens both the first and second companies are so far pretty close together; we're within ten points of each other to-day and no other company is within twenty points of either of us. either you or i will win the flag, that is certain. and, bob, if you win it i'm going to lead the cheering for the winning company." "i appreciate that sentiment, sam, and if you win the flag i will lead the cheering." "say, bob, have you read about that kidnapping case in baltimore? some rascals have stolen a little boy named georgie thompson." "no, i hadn't. jingo! i hope they catch the scoundrels and get the boy back." the two young men shook hands in the heartiest fashion and separated. there was intense personal rivalry between them, far more than their words expressed; it was a commendable rivalry; each was determined to make every effort to win the great prize, but each had a high personal regard for the other. this meeting was on one of the saturdays in may. robert was now highly elated with the efficiency of his six-pounder crew. it drilled every day. dummy six-pounder shells were thrown into the gun with tremendous speed and remarkable precision. there were now no slips, no jams. while this was proceeding robert would be at the shoulder-piece, his eye at the peep-sight, aiming at some boat in the river. this was the nearest approach possible to actually firing the gun. and every man of the gun's crew was enthusiastically confident. "stone," said robert, after dinner this saturday, "i've permission to use a steamer this afternoon and i've got up a party to go up the severn river." "i'll bet helen is in the party," replied stonewell, smiling at his roommate. "of course she is; mrs. blunt is coming, and glassfell and farnum. now we want you too." "i wish i could go, but i can't," replied stonewell, decidedly. "i've an engagement i can't break." "oh, rats, chuck your tailor for once--your measure will keep. but now i'll give you some information that will bring you along with us--nellie strong is with the blunts; she arrived this morning and is going to stay over for graduation. now will you come?" "i can't, bob, but i'll be out to the blunts' house to-night." "pshaw, i counted on your going--what is your engagement; can't you put it off?" "i really wish i could, but it's imperative; there's nothing pleasant about it--i may tell you about it later--i can't now." "it seems to me you've been getting an extra lot of letters lately, stone." "yes, more than i wish for," rejoined stone rather bitterly. "helen and i went walking that sunday afternoon, the sunday you and i had intended going across the river. first helen had an errand to do on conduit street and right ahead of us you were walking along. you went into a big yellow house." stonewell gave a start. "well," he said, "what of it?" "look here, stone, old chap, you have something on your mind that's bothering you terribly. is there no way i can help you; will it do you no good to talk things over with me?" "bob, i can't talk; i don't pretend i'm not worried, but i just can't unburden my mind, not even to the best friend a man ever had," replied stonewell huskily, with almost a break in his voice. he walked away from his roommate with agitated face, and gloomily looked out upon the waters of chesapeake bay. loud were the expressions of disappointment from robert's friends when he told them stonewell could not join them on their trip. they all got aboard the steam launch, which immediately started up the severn river; the day was pleasant and all were in high spirits. the severn river is most picturesque in its scenery. high, densely-wooded banks, irregular in outline, line its shores, and there are many indentations of little bays that lead into the river. three miles above its mouth the severn widens into round bay, a sheet of water several miles in diameter. and above this and emptying into it is a narrow stream, which is still called severn river. the launch steamed through round bay, and then entered this narrow stream. "isn't this beautiful?" cried robert. "just look at this winding little river; i wonder how far up we can go. say, coxswain, how far up this river can we steam?" "if i knew the channel i could take you up to indian landing, sir," answered the coxswain; "some of our steamers have been up that far; but i don't know the channel, sir; i'm afraid we'll go aground at any minute." "well, can't you follow that gasoline launch ahead of us? the fellow in it probably knows the channel." "yes, sir, i can do that." a covered gasoline launch was a quarter of a mile ahead. "give me all the speed you can," called out the coxswain to the engineer; "i want to catch that boat ahead; this river has so many little turns that i'll have to keep close to that chap ahead." the engineer of the launch turned on a steam jet in the smokestack to force the draft and the little boat instantly responded and made a great fuss in increasing the speed of the engine. "why don't we catch up?" asked robert, in a few minutes; "we are surely going much faster than we were." "because he has nearly doubled his speed, mr. drake," replied the coxswain. "hurrah, it's a race!" shouted the midshipman; "now let's see who will win." the steam launch commenced to gain on the gasoline boat. the coxswain had been looking at the latter through a pair of binoculars; after a time he quietly remarked to robert, "this isn't a race, sir; those men in the boat ahead of us think we are chasing them, and if i ever saw a pair of precious rogues in my life i'm looking at them now. take a look at them, mr. drake." "well, no one would ever say they were pretty," remarked robert after a good look at them through the glasses. "we are catching up with them now. hello, they've stopped." in a short time the steam launch was abreast of the gasoline boat. in the latter but one man was to be seen, and an ill-favored man he was. "my! what a brutal-looking fellow," remarked nellie strong with a shudder. "what do you want?" demanded the man, in a surly, sullen way. "we were stealing pilotage from you, that's all," replied robert. "we're going up this river and don't know the channel and are afraid of going ashore. is there danger of that if we keep in the middle of the stream?" "i hope you'll strike a shoal and stay there till the crack of doom. you've no business to go running after another boat that way." "what's the matter with you?" called out robert; "and why don't your two friends show themselves? it looks to me as if you're afraid of the police." the man made an angry exclamation and the steamer passed ahead. "what an ill-tempered man," said helen blunt to robert; "i wish he'd cut off that red beard of his; he wouldn't look so much like a pirate then." "we won't worry about that fellow. now i'm going up in the bow with a boat-hook to take soundings; we'll run slow and keep right in the middle of the river. but isn't it beautiful around here. just look how the little river twists and winds about and how irregular the shore is; and there are lots of little creeks running into the river and little bays stretching out from it." "and isn't it lonely?" rejoined helen. "there is hardly a house or a clearing to be seen; it's a regular wilderness." robert went to the bow of the steamer, and taking a boat-hook thrust it in the water; it was quite deep enough, so he felt reassured about the boat's not going ashore. "there's indian landing ahead of us," called out the coxswain. "i don't think we had better go much further; we've got eleven miles to run before we get back, and i'm afraid of getting low in coal." "all right, put aback and return." and soon the steamer was headed down the river. "where's that gasoline boat; can you see her anywhere?" asked robert, a few moments later. "no, sir, we would have met her by this time if she had followed straight up the river. and that's odd, too. indian landing is the only place boats ever come to up here--she must be hidden in one of those lonely creeks." "that's it, i imagine. there's something queer about that boat; it certainly had three ugly-looking men in it, and two of them didn't want to be seen. that bearded chap was a fierce-looking specimen." "say, bob," called out glassfell from aft, "mess gear is spread and we're waiting for you to pipe us to dinner, but we won't wait long--you'd better get here in a hurry." robert lost no time and immediately joined the others. an attractive lunch had been spread and was now attacked with energy; in the launch was a party of good friends, all in gay spirits. the day was delightful and when they finally reached the "santee" wharf and left the launch it was unanimously agreed that a most enjoyable afternoon had been spent. early this afternoon stonewell left his room, and unaccompanied went out in the city of annapolis. he walked rapidly and before long was in conduit street, and without stopping to wait for admittance, entered a large yellow house. two hours later he left and hastened to a telegraph office. but stonewell was not the only visitor that day who entered this large yellow house on conduit street. for at about eight o'clock that evening a man in civilian garb, wearing a moustache and heavy pointed beard, with a brown slouch hat drawn low over his forehead, and in closely buttoned sack coat, went to the same house, and without hesitation, opened the door by a pass key and passed inside. chapter xviii an old colored man is in trouble a hop was given that saturday night at the armory. there was nothing particularly noteworthy about this hop; it was just like hundreds of its predecessors. as usual, near graduation time, there were many out of town visitors, and it is likely that brass buttons proved attractive to them. many glad faces were to be seen whirling around, and judging by the happy laughs that were heard everyone was having a jolly time. robert drake had escorted an old friend that night, miss nellie strong. he had seen her card filled up, had presented her partners, and had taken three numbers himself. "something is always happening to you, robert," remarked nellie as they walked around the room after the second dance. "now tell me what misadventure you have had this year." "not one, nellie; my bad luck is all over; not one single unpleasant thing has happened to me since i became a first classman." "what was the occasion of that remarkable disappearance of yours a year ago? surely you can tell me now; i've never been so curious over anything in my life." "i've never told anybody about that, neither my father nor stonewell nor helen nor anybody else." "well, i declare! i don't suppose it amounted to much, anyway. and perhaps you think you're more interesting if you're mysterious. now, mr. robert, tell me something else; why wasn't harry blunt with us this afternoon? i asked him and he said you hadn't invited him. don't you like him, robert? i think harry is a nice boy." "don't talk to me about harry blunt. let's talk about his sister. helen is a very good friend of mine, and her father is one of the finest----" "robert," suddenly interrupted nellie, "something is going to happen to you again--that colored man in the doorway motioned to you; just look at him, he's motioning to you now; he wants to speak to you,--oh, i just knew something would happen to you." "nonsense. that's old grice. he's a great old chap. he just wants to see me about something--i'll take you to where mrs. blunt is and then go see what he wants." "what is it, grice?" asked robert to the old man at the door, a moment later. "sompin' powerful bad, mistah drake; i'se feared to talk heah. can yo' come outside, suh? i'se somef'n mighty bad to tell yo', suh!" the old darkey shook his head and rolled his eyes, making a grotesque effort to express the worried feelings evidently in his mind. "come outside, but hurry. i'm here with some young ladies, and i haven't much time to talk with you." "no, suh, co'se not. and dem young ladies am pow'ful nice, suh." "well, grice, what is it that you want with me?" "well, suh, i doan' know how to tell it. yo' knows i'se messenger for department of mathmax, doan' yo', mistah drake?" "of course; what of it?" "mistah drake, suh, will yo' gibe me yor promise as a naval officer an' gemman that yo' won' tell anybody what i'se gwine to say?" "no, of course i won't." "well, suh, a big crime is goin' to be cormitted. an' a pore ole niggah man knows about it an' goes to a young gemman frend of hizn and asks fo' help and can't get none. and the pore ole niggah will be accused an' go to jail. won' yo' help me, mistah drake? won' yo' help a pore ole niggah what's in trouble?" "of course i will, grice, but i'm not going to promise you to keep secret what you tell me." "ef yo' goes roun' talking 'bout what i tells yo' no one will believe me. i'll be bounced, suh, after thirty years heah, an' ef yo' doan' help me a crime will be cormitted and folks will say ole grice done it. ain't yo' gwine to help me, mistah drake?" robert thought for a moment, looking intently at the old negro. the latter talked with great effort. beads of perspiration burst out on his face. it was evident that grice was in terror of losing his all and knew not what to do. "grice, i'll help you if i can," said robert. "if what you tell me is important i will talk about it to the commandant and to no one else. now what is it? be quick." "thank yo', suh. two midshipmen is a-gwine to steal the mathmax zamnation. i wuz sleepin' in the mathmax room last night. my ole woman an' i done hav' a disregard 'bout religion yesterday; she's zion baptis' an' i'se asbury methodis'. we disregarded so hard that i didn't go home las' night,--co'se 'tain't allowed to sleep in mathmax room, but i done it las' night; well, suh, mistah drake, suh, suah as yo' is bawn, suh, it woke me up. two men came in the mathmax room. the doors wuz all locked; i done that myself; they mus' have had a key made. they come to the desk were the zamnation questions is kep'. they had a light--turned it on, and put somfin' in the key bob of the desk, i seen 'em do it, suh. this morning i fin' wax in keyhole. zamnations ain't made out yet, but these gemmen will come back with the keys and steal the zamnation--den ole grice will be 'cused and dismissed--zamnations have been stolen befoah, mistah drake, yo' knows it, suh, an' money stolen, an' gen'ally some pore niggah gets dismissed an' half de time it's some pore white trash in midshipman close what does it. yes, suh, an' ----" "did you see the faces of these midshipmen, grice?" interrupted robert. "yes, suh. i done had a good luk at 'em." "who were they?" "foah de lawd sake, mistah drake, doan' yo' ask me no such questionings," cried out grice in affrighted tones. "do you know the names of those two midshipmen?" "yes, suh, mistah drake, suh, but i ain't a-gwine to say who they is; ef i tole yo' who they is they would tole yo' grice prevaricated and grice would be dismissed. no, suh, i ain't a-gwine to tole yo' who they is, mistah drake, suh; yo' done got to catch 'em, suh." "grice, i shall tell the commandant what you have told me and he will make you tell him who they are." "i disremember their names, suh," suddenly replied grice. "i forgets their names, but i knows 'em; they is midshipmen. now, mistah drake, suh, they will come back, suah they will, suh, an' yo' an' me will be in the mathmax room and catch 'em." "all right, grice, i'll help you; but i've got to go now. call on me if anything new turns up," and robert returned to the ballroom and soon was with helen blunt. "robert," she said after a few minutes, "we're awfully worried about harry; he's been dropping in mathematics and is officially warned that he is in danger of failing at the annual examination. do you think he will fail?" "there's but little danger of that, helen; don't worry; lots of his classmates have been warned and your brother is really bright. he would have high class rank if he studied, and he always does fairly well in examinations. i saw his name posted at the beginning of this month, but you needn't worry; he probably has been boning and no doubt will pass." "won't you help him, robert?" asked helen in wistful tones; "you know what a terribly sad thing it is to a naval family to have a son fail at annapolis." "wherever and whenever i can. just bet on that; but your brother and i are not friendly and i'm quite sure he would disdain any help from me." "oh, robert, what did that old colored man want?" cried nellie strong, running up. "oh," laughed robert, "he wanted to know who that powerfully pretty girl was that i was with. he said she was the nicest girl on the floor. and then he wanted to know who made that crepe de chine gown you are wearing and----" "robert drake, stop your nonsense, and tell me what that old man wanted," cried nellie, consumed with curiosity; "are you in some more trouble; are you going to disappear again?" "what is it, robert; has anything happened?" inquired helen, much concerned. "nothing much; an old colored man, grice, who is the sweeper and cleaner of the mathematical department, is in trouble and wanted my advice and help. you see his wife is a zion baptist and he's an asbury methodist, something like that, and they have 'disregards,' so grice tells me----" "oh, i know old harriet grice," interrupted helen. "she used to cook for us when father was commandant, and every night when she went home she carried with her everything left in the pantry and ice-box. once when i caught her in the act she said she was taking the stuff to the zion church; that it wasn't stealing because she was giving it to the lord. she and old grice have terrible rows, in spite of their both being so religious." everybody laughed and nellie strong was satisfied. then the music started. "this is ours, nellie," remarked robert, and in a moment the two were lost in the crowd. the next morning after chapel service, robert spent half an hour with the commandant and related what grice had told him. "i'll send for grice to-morrow," said that officer, "but i doubt if he will disclose the names of the midshipmen, even if he really does know them. these darkeys are remarkably stubborn when they once get a notion in their woolly heads. if grice is telling a true story we must certainly catch the offenders in the act." the commandant thought for a moment and then continued: "i could post some watchmen about the place, but then the guilty persons might take alarm. if grice's story is true there is surely a bad pair of midshipmen here, and we must get them and dismiss them." chapter xix the kidnappers annapolis was full of excitement. it always is at this time of year, and though the town is old, and though graduation scenes have been rehearsed for more than sixty years, still the play is always fresh; young lives are about to go out and do their battle in the world, and friends come to applaud them and to spend a few days with them, and to wish them godspeed. and so visitors by thousands poured into the ancient city; and the young men of robert drake's class had a sense of great importance because it was all to do honor to their graduation, now but a few weeks off. but it wasn't only at the naval academy that important matters were happening at this time; for near annapolis, events were occurring of tremendous import to a few people, and particularly so to a small, white-faced whimpering boy, seven years old. up the severn river, some little distance before it reaches round bay, was an offshoot from the river. this offshoot, a small creek, by devious windings led through a desolate, untenanted, uncultivated, roadless region. once, in the heyday of slavery, prosperous tobacco fields existed where now there was a dense second growth of trees crowded by a tangled underbrush impenetrable to man unless armed with a hatchet. here, through an absolute wilderness, inhabited only by coons, squirrels and hares, the little offshoot to the severn took its unmolested way. no man's creek it was called, and well named it was. not even isolated negroes' cabins were to be seen on its banks, and wild duck in their season, unmolested by the gun, here found a secure place. but, completely hidden in this creek, disturbing visitors had recently appeared. in one of the sharp turns of no man's creek, and completely hidden from view, was a covered gasoline launch. in it were three men and a small, weeping boy. "we'll start to-night at eleven; it will be dark then, the moon sets at nine; and i'll be glad to have the thing over with. jingo! i wish we had never done this thing," said one of them, a red-bearded man of uncertain age. "i'm sure no one followed us to indian landing; we landed there at a time when nobody was awake. but it was a hard trip from there across lots to this place. i never would have found this spot if i weren't so well acquainted about here. but i wish we could have got out last night--confound that leaky gasoline tank--it dished us at the last moment. but we'll be out to-night sure--it will take us an hour to run by the naval academy, and two hours later we'll be across the bay and in kent island--once there i'll be easy in my mind; we'll be absolutely safe. and then we'll get ten thousand for our trouble. stop your crying, georgie, we're taking you to your father. hello, jim, what's that noise? i hear a man shouting!" the red-bearded man jumped up and out of the boat; he ran up a bank and returned in a moment. "we're caught," he cried hoarsely; "somebody has seen us and has given us away. we'll have to leave instantly--cut the painter! hurry, start the engine--shove off the boat; we haven't a moment to lose!" with zeal born of fear and desperation, the three men worked frantically, and very soon the gasoline boat was chugging down the stream. and none too soon, for two men now standing near where the gasoline boat had been secured were shouting for them to return. with pallid faces the three men confronted one another. "what is to be done?" asked one. "let's land somewhere on round bay shore, turn the kid adrift and run," ventured a second one. "we'll be caught in this boat; our only hope is to separate and each of us try to get away by himself." "we'll do nothing of the kind," retorted the red-bearded man; "we will stick to this boat; we'll follow the original programme. what chance would i have? that chap saw me plainly and everybody in six counties would look for a man with red whiskers. no, sir! those two men are left on the shore; they are miles from a telephone; we'll be halfway across chesapeake bay before they can communicate with anybody, and there are so many launches in the severn river that we won't be noticed. that's the only thing to do, fellows." "it's twenty years in prison if we're caught," remarked one with a gasp. "stop your sniveling! cheer up! we'll be on the eastern shore to-night, and once there i defy anybody to find us." these three men were the kidnappers of little georgie thompson. seemingly their plans had been perfectly laid. two of them had driven from baltimore in a roundabout way to a place near indian landing, arriving there at night. one of these, with georgie, had stolen that same night to where the gasoline launch had been brought by the third man. the other had gone further on and turned adrift the horse and buggy they had driven from baltimore and joined the launch later. had it not been for the loss of the gasoline the boat would already have been on the other side of chesapeake bay. more gasoline had been secured, and this cowardly trio had determined to wait until dark before leaving their hiding-place. the gasoline launch shot out of no man's creek and swung into the severn river. soon round bay was reached and the launch struck across the centre of it and, keeping at equal distance from either shore, ran down the river at full speed. they attracted no notice on their way and soon the railroad bridge was passed, then the county bridge and they were abreast of the naval academy grounds. no passing boats seemed at all interested in their movements, and the men felt easier. in but a short time they would be out of the river and on their way across chesapeake bay. hardly a word had been spoken on this fast trip down the river, but desperate fear gripped each man's heart. little georgie was now crying softly; he did not realize what was happening, did not comprehend what these strange men were doing beyond their statement that they were taking him to his father, but they were a long time about it and he was hungry and uncomfortable. there was something terrifying in it all to the little boy and now and again he would sob bitterly. when opposite the lower part of the naval academy grounds the gasoline engine suddenly stopped. with a fierce exclamation of fear and rage the red-bearded man jumped to the engine and tried to start it again, but with no success. "everything seems to be all right here," he said in a low, intense way; "the spark is all right,"--then in a voice of fright he said, "this cock doesn't show there is any gasoline in the feed pipe; see if there is any in the tank." "not a drop," exclaimed the other in a terrified voice; "this rotten tank has sprung another leak." "get out an oar and make for that sloop," cried the red-bearded man. fifty feet away was a sloop yacht anchored; her sail was all spread, though the sheets were not belayed. a fresh breeze was blowing down the severn; this helped the gasoline boat, and with the aid of the oars it was soon alongside the sloop. "jump aboard, quick with you," cried the leader; "come along, georgie; run forward, jim, and heave up the anchor; never mind our boat--we've no time to lose--i'll look out for the sheets and helm." with a practiced hand the man with the red beard grabbed the tiller. they found nobody aboard--but the sails being loosed and no small boat being alongside it was likely that a party to go sailing would soon be pulled off from the shore to the yacht. the anchor was hove up to the bows in a moment, the head of the yacht swung round, the sails filled, and she was off with a bound. with a critical eye the man at the helm trimmed the different sails, set the trysail and then heaved a sigh of profound relief. "i think we're safe," he said; "hello, there's a navy ship on the port bow, and another one several miles away on the starboard bow. i'll steer between--they don't know anything about us--they won't bother us." while the superintendent of the naval academy was sitting at his desk this same afternoon, his telephone bell rang. "hello, what is it?" he asked. "is this the superintendent?" "yes." "this is halstead, aboard the 'santee.'" "what is it, halstead?" "sir, the quartermaster has reported that a gasoline launch went alongside the 'robert centre' a few minutes ago and several people got out of the launch and went aboard the yacht; the gasoline launch is now drifting down the river and the 'robert centre' is tearing out into the bay." "who were the people that got out of the launch?" "the quartermaster says they were strangers. one was a man with a red beard, and a little boy was along." "had anybody intended to take the 'robert centre' out to-day?" "yes, sir, mr. brooks and some friends of his. they are now being pulled out in the river in the 'centre's' boat. what shall i do, sir?" "hoist the 'robert centre's' recall. secure the gasoline launch and keep it awaiting my orders. have the quartermaster keep a good lookout on the 'robert centre' to see where she goes. have you any steamer you could send for her?" "no, sir, the 'standish' is out with the 'nevada.'" "i think you'll find that the matter will be explained; it was probably a party of young officers out for a lark and a sail. or it may have been some friends of officers; it will no doubt come out all right." half an hour later the superintendent was again called up by the telephone. "this is the superintendent. what is it?" he asked. "i am detective cross, a pinkerton detective. i traced the kidnappers of the thompson boy to no man's creek, near the severn, below indian landing. they saw me and shoved their boat off in a hurry, and went down river. the boy is with them. i've had a time finding a telephone in this forsaken country; keep a lookout for a green gasoline launch; it has a cabin in it--three kidnappers and georgie thompson were in the----" but the superintendent had heard enough and, ringing off the speaker, he commenced to do some rapid telephoning on his own account. chapter xx six-pounder target practice graduation day drew near, bringing exultant happiness to robert drake. not many more things could occur to him--the annual examinations were soon to be held, but these brought no terrors to robert's mind. most of the drills had been finished, and the first and second companies were now neck and neck in competition for the first place, with blair's company slightly in the lead. the final standing now depended upon the records these respective companies made at target practice. annapolis was now in ribboned and brass-buttoned glory. proudly the brigade of midshipmen marched each afternoon for dress parade, and on the walks viewing them was much fluttering loveliness. then, after dismissal, came pleasant, even if short, strolls through the grounds, in and about the shady walks. robert was happy because of four years of hard work well done and well appreciated. he loved the place. every tree on the grounds was an old friend, and every spot near and about old annapolis called up pleasant memories. the important things yet to occur were target practice, the first class german, graduation, and the great june ball. among the midshipmen there were a few, however, who were not happy at this time. among them was harry blunt; in danger of failing in mathematics, disturbed by reproachful looks from his mother and sister and worried by severe letters from his father, he commenced to have an anxious appearance, and actually abandoned the gaieties that were now thrust into midshipman life in favor of much neglected books; the dreaded annual examinations were almost upon him. midshipman bligh, though also in the same precarious position, seemed to lose some of the gloom he had been carrying about him and become more normal. he went into the city of annapolis at every opportunity and always came back with a grateful heart; for bligh had found a friend who believed in him, and this friend had rescued bligh from the pit of despondency and terrible sadness into which he had descended. "say, bob," remarked stonewell one day, "have you noticed that fellow bligh of late?" "i never happen to think of him. what about him?" "nothing much, except that i am constantly meeting him. he never seems to look at me, but whenever i go out in town nowadays he's pretty sure to be standing at the maryland avenue gate; and then later, half the time i go out i meet him somewhere. this has happened so often of late that i can't help but feel he's interested in where i go." "lots of people are interested in where you go, stone; every day somebody asks me why you go out so much alone. for years we have gone out together, but now you never want me." "it's not that," replied stonewell hurriedly,--"i've had some personal matters come up that require my attention. look here, that bligh is going to bilge, isn't he?" "he is practically certain to. he is low in every study--he'll have to make bigger marks in each of them than he ever yet has made to get satisfactory in the final average. but he may do it; people have pulled out of worse holes than he is in." "what are you reading, bob? you seem to be giving that newspaper a good deal of your attention to-day." "i'm reading about the boy who was kidnapped in baltimore several days ago. first it was thought the boy was lost, but now the police believe he was kidnapped; it says here that mr. thompson has received word his boy will be restored to him on payment of ten thousand dollars. by george! i hope they catch the kidnappers and send them to prison for life. that's an awful crime!" "it is indeed; and just think, baltimore is only thirty miles away. i've been reading about that thompson boy and i do hope he will be sent back home. well, bob, are you all ready for your target practice? do you really put faith in this new sight you have invented?" "more so every day, stone, particularly since i've learned that practically the same sight as i have aboard the 'nevada' has been put on many different guns throughout the navy. anybody who sees it and works with it a little is bound to believe it is far better than the old sights. those were simply miserable. i'm now fifteen or twenty points behind blair, with only target practice yet to be heard from, and i'm sure to beat him. i'd beat him even if we should use the old sights. you see i have a really very well-drilled crew; they load rapidly. i'm wild to get into the practice; i've a flag at stake, you know. it will be settled before night. hello, the bugle has busted. let's get to formation." on board the monitor "nevada" they joined the other midshipmen, and soon she was under way and steaming through the buoyed channel to the free waters of chesapeake bay. the "nevada" had on board the officers belonging to the department of ordnance and gunnery and a number of midshipmen; there were also on board a six-pounder crew of five men from each of the twelve companies of midshipmen. in addition many midshipmen who had no duties but who were interested in seeing the target practice were allowed to be present. soon a cry from aloft was heard. "sail ho!" cried the midshipman lookout on the "nevada's" mast. "where away, can you make her out?" returned the midshipman officer-of-the-deck, hailing the lookout. "right ahead, sir, but i don't know what it is. it looks like a funny kind of a ship with six sails on it." "who made that ridiculous report?" inquired commander brice in great disgust. "if it were an ordinary seaman i'd disrate him to an afterguard sweeper. but i imagine it's a future admiral. the sail he's reported are the targets--there are six of them. anybody but a midshipman would know it. they've been in sight ever since we left the severn river." the target was now seen by everybody and the "nevada" steered for it. it was at the apex of an equilateral triangle each side of which was one thousand yards long. the word targets, rather than target, should have been used, because in this apex, for the purpose of expediting this practice, of finishing it in one afternoon, six targets on rafts had been placed. the tug "standish" was anchored near by. she had brought a party of enlisted men, who had been working all morning, and had erected the marks. commander shaw, the head of the department of ordnance and gunnery, remained on the bridge with commander brice until the "nevada" had cleared the channel. then, as he descended the ladder leading from the bridge to the superstructure deck, he was met by an eager-faced midshipman, who cried to him: "captain shaw, do you remember we were all encouraged by your instructors to make any improvements we could in the guns we were to drill with?" "i do indeed, mr. drake," replied commander shaw, smiling with interest at robert's eagerness. "what have you been doing?" "i will show you, sir. will you please come over to the starboard six-pounder gun?" robert stepped quickly to the starboard side, followed by the commander. he then quickly unscrewed the regular gun sights, drew them out of the sockets, and threw them over to chief gunner's mate lenn. the latter handed robert a long parcel wrapped in paper. "hello, bob, what have you there, a new gun?" laughed blair. "say, fellows, let's see what bob is up to." everybody became interested and crowded about, and many were the laughing remarks made to robert. but the latter, paying no attention to these, quickly stripped the paper from the parcel, and a long brass pipe was exposed to the curious eyes about him. on one end of the pipe was clamped a piece of metal which carried a circular ring, across which were attached, at right angles, thin silvery-white wires. at the other end of the pipe was attached a small brass cylinder, closed except for a minute hole through its centre. near the cross wire end, hanging from the pipe, was a solid plug, cylindrical in section. robert worked rapidly. he slipped this plug into the recess left by the front sight, putting in several thin washers; at the rear end of the brass pipe was attached a condemned rear sight, one furnished by lenn, and this naturally slipped into its place. "by george, mr. drake," cried out commander shaw, "this is splendid. it's the paul jones' bar sight! she won this year's six-pounder record by that sight--i only yesterday received a drawing of it--how in the world did you get this up?" "several helped, sir, and chief gunner's mate lenn did all the work about it. may i use these sights, sir, on my target practice to-day?" "indeed you may, and all of the rest of the gun crews will. we've known for some time the old sights were very poor. i'm delighted, mr. drake." robert's face was radiant with happiness. his classmates crowded about him; everybody saw at a glance that robert's sight was a decided improvement. "i congratulate you, bob," said blair to him. "i guess you've got the flag and you deserve to have it; this is just fine. captain shaw," continued blair, "i request permission to fire my shots with the old sights." "not granted, sir." "but, captain, there is a special reason why i should, a big reason. you see, sir, drake and i are fighting for the flag; this target practice will decide things; one of us is bound to win it; now he has got up this sight and it would certainly be unfair to him if i were to get the benefit of his good ideas and----" "captain shaw," cried robert, interrupting blair, "if you think it's a good sight let's all fire with it, and give the naval academy a better record in target practice than last year; and if blair can beat me out--then all the more credit to him, for i've had a lot of practice in aiming and loading. and, captain, i'd like to have each crew practice as much as they can find time for; i've had hours of it. it's very easy to go from the old sights to this; you just keep the gun pointed with your shoulder and arm so that the line through the peep-hole and intersection of cross wires prolonged will meet the object you want to hit. here, sam, you take the gun and get used to it." "bob, this is awfully white of you, and it's not fair to you." "gentlemen, you'll all fire with this new sight of mr. drake's," announced commander shaw, decisively. "bob, i'm going to do my best, of course, but you ought to win; if i should happen to get credited for the most hits i couldn't feel i deserved to beat you." "don't you worry, sam," chuckled robert; "i've been practicing with that sight for some months. if you can win you've a right to." robert was radiantly happy; this public recognition of his having done something worth while filled him with joy. and at the same time he was completely confident that he would make the best record during the day. he was really desirous of having everybody who fired use the sight he had installed, because he expected to win anyway. he knew in his heart that with all the special drill he had had he was practically certain to make the highest score in target practice, no matter which sight was used, and he felt he would really have more credit if all who fired used the same sights. "now, gentlemen, each pointer will have a chance to practice with mr. drake's bar sight before he fires," announced commander shaw. "mr. drake, you will fire first. are you bore sighted?" "yes, sir, everything is ready, but i'd like to fire a trial shot." "very well. we'll steam to the range and give you a trial shot, and then mr. blair may practice aiming. then we'll go on the range and you will commence, and when you finish the second company's gun crew will commence; as soon as they finish, and while turning the ship around for the return run, the pointers of the third and fourth crews will practice with the sight. we'll fire two pointers on a run and practice two on the return, so after six double runs we will have fired at the six targets; then a boat from the 'standish' will patch up the targets, and after that we'll fire the other six gun crews; we ought to finish before five o'clock. have you your range cards ready, and a stop-watch?" "yes, sir." "all right." then to commander brice on the bridge: "are you making ten knots, captain?" "yes, sir, just exactly ten knots." "take your trial shot just after we pass the first buoy, mr drake." "yes, sir; i'm ready, sir." the "nevada" was now rapidly approaching the range, which was marked by three buoys in line, this line forming the base of the triangle, of which the targets were in the apex. the "nevada" was to travel just outside of the line while the six-pounder was being fired. "what yacht is that?" asked commander shaw of commander brice, indicating a yacht that had evidently just come from annapolis. "that's the 'robert centre,'" replied commander brice, after looking at her through his glasses. "i think she has come out to see the target practice, and i'll wager a ship's biscuit that a party of midshipmen with some girl friends are on board," he continued, with a laugh. "just look at the way sail is crowded on her. jerusalem! the fellow who is running that yacht has a lot of nerve; he's got every rag stretched that's aboard." the "robert centre" was a yacht that some years previous had been presented to the naval academy, and in leisure hours midshipmen were allowed to sail her in chesapeake bay. she was coming out under a great press of canvas with a fresh, spanking breeze on her port quarter. "i'll blow the ship's steam whistle when the first buoy is abeam of the mast," called out commander shaw. "mr. drake, take your trial shot as soon after as you please." "aye, aye, sir." in a moment there was a strident blast from the steam whistle and immediately after: "bang!" went the six-pounder. many midshipmen, not prepared for the deafening report, jumped violently. "a bull's-eye," cried out commander shaw in delight. "mr. drake, your sight is all right, and the powder is all right. captain brice, i'd like to go back and commence over again. mr. drake, let mr. blair practice sighting the gun. you'll find, mr. blair, that the new sights are easier to shoot with. mr. drake, i'm delighted; that was a bully good shot." again the "nevada" steamed toward the range. "now, fellows," said robert, "put cotton in your ears and don't mind about the noise; get the gun loaded as soon as i fire; and, glass, be sure you throw the shell in home; the only chance of a poor score is a jammed cartridge." the "nevada" rapidly approached the first buoy. an intense, breathless silence, an air of solemnity, pervaded the ship. standing like statues grouped about the six-pounder gun that was about to fire, were robert and his crew, with grim determination written on every face. "after the whistle blows commence firing immediately," ordered commander shaw. "i'll time you with a stop-watch; you will fire for just a minute; jump back the instant i tap you on the arm like this. mr. blair, have your crew ready to jump to the gun just when i signal to mr. drake to cease." "aye, aye, sir," came the replies in unison from both robert and blair. when the whistle blew, there came a novel sensation to those on board who had never before seen a navy target practice. a sheet of white flame burst from the muzzle of the six-pounder, a thunderous, reverberating report assaulted the ears of everybody, and hardly had this been experienced when the same thing was repeated, over and over again. the grim statues at the gun had burst into reckless life. at the first shot, the recoil of the gun had thrown down the breech-block and so had opened the gun, ejecting the used cartridge case. the gun was ready for loading, and glassfell lost no time. hardly had the empty cartridge case been ejected than into the chamber he threw a fresh shell. a spring was automatically released, throwing the breech-block into place, and the gun was ready for firing. almost instantly it was discharged, for robert never allowed the sights to leave the target. and so a thunderous bang! bang! bang! was kept up from the gun. commander brice, on top of the pilot house, with his glasses leveled on the target, was in an ecstasy of delight. "a bull's-eye," he cried, "another bull's-eye, a beautiful shot, wonderful shooting." while this was going on, a wild-eyed enlisted man, scantily clad in working trousers and undershirt, and evidently under intense excitement, came tumbling up on the superstructure deck, screaming, "captain, captain." he ran into half a dozen midshipmen, fell down twice, reached the ladder leading to the pilot house top, still continuing his wild cry of "captain." he bumped into captain brice, and when the latter turned angrily around to him, he thrust a paper into the captain's hands. commander brice read the paper, and then in a stentorian voice cried out: "cease firing." at the same instant commander shaw touched robert on the shoulder and called "time." "cease firing," repeated commander brice. "keep mr. drake and his crew at the gun! hard a starboard the helm! call away the life-boat. gunner's mate, get up twelve rifles and rifle ammunition, double time! captain shaw, detail lieutenant joynes to take charge of the life-boat; have two midshipmen crews, armed with rifles, prepared to go in the life-boat when it is lowered. ease the helm, amidships with it--steady so." many pairs of surprised eyes were upon commander brice. with glasses up to his eyes, he was now looking at a yacht on the starboard bow, recognized by everybody to be the "robert centre" which, some distance away, was careening far to one side and was bowling along at a furious speed. "mr. drake!" called out commander brice. "sir?" "do you see the 'robert centre'?" "yes, sir." "drop a shell under her bows. don't hit her. the range is about fifteen hundred yards." chapter xxi a good shot with the six-pounder "bang," went the six-pounder, and four seconds later a heavy column of water rose up under the bow of the "robert centre," three quarters of a mile away. "well placed," called out commander brice, as he saw the shot fall. "what," he exclaimed a moment later, "the rascal won't heave to! split the mast, mr. drake, six feet above the deck." hardly had he given the order when robert again fired. "five feet to the right; aim a little to the left of the mast." again a sheet of flame leaped from the six-pounder's mouth, again the thunderous reverberating report, dying out in far-away echoes, rolled from the gun. except for commander brice's orders, the noise of the gun, and the now painfully loud throbbing of the engines, an intense stillness prevailed on the "nevada's" deck. thoroughly accustomed to navy ways, not a soul on board thought of questioning the captain's reason for injuring the graceful yacht, which had seen many pleasant sailing parties of midshipmen and their friends. all eyes were on the yacht; a few seconds after robert's last shot the tall raking mast was seen suddenly to snap off close to the deck. down went the mast over the side into the water, carrying with it every sail; and the yacht a minute before so full of life and spirit, so swiftly plunging through the water, now rolled helplessly, inert and lifeless. "a beautiful shot, mr. drake," cried commander brice, delightedly. "mr. joynes, as soon as we are near that yacht i'll slow down and stop and you lower the life-boat; get your armed crew aboard, and row over to the 'robert centre'! take three men and a small boy from her--and let go the yacht's anchor; we'll let the 'standish' tow her in after target practice." "what is it, brice?" asked commander shaw, who had gone up on top of the pilot house. "read this wireless message from the superintendent. it's evident that the kidnappers of georgie thompson stole the 'robert centre' and now are on board with the boy. by jingo! mr. drake did some fine shooting. between wireless telegraphy and good shooting villainy isn't profitable these days." before long three silent, gloomy men and a small boy were brought on board. two of the men were on the verge of collapse; new life had come to little georgie, who wondered what it was all about. "master-at-arms, put these men in a cell and place a guard over them. where is the wireless operator? oh--send this message immediately. look here, my little man, is your name georgie thompson?" "yes, sir. where is my papa? is he here? what were those awful noises, mister? may i have a piece of bread and butter? i'm awfully hungry. where is my papa?" "steward, take georgie to my cabin and keep him there, and get him something to eat, right away. full speed, both engines, hard aport the helm. now we'll run back by the buoys again. take charge, shaw, and fire as you will." before long blair's crew fired at its target, and in quick succession the remaining four targets were fired at, and then the "nevada" ran up to the targets to count the shot holes in them and the "standish" went up to repair them. never did robert drake have a more exultant feeling than when he saw the holes his shots had torn through the canvas. he had fired twenty-two times in his minute, and there were nineteen gaping holes in his target. blair had fired sixteen times and had made thirteen hits. robert now knew the flag was his and he was glad indeed. six more crews were to fire, but he knew in his heart that none could hope to equal his record, because none had had the practice his crew had had. nothing could have exceeded the cordial congratulations of his closest rival, blair. "you've beaten me out, bob, but, by george, you deserve to. i'm not ashamed of my score; thirteen hits is not a bad record--but what luck you have had--what a wonderful bull's-eye you made when you knocked down the 'robert centre's' mast; you deserve the flag, bob! there's no doubt of that fact; you've won it, and by no fluke." the targets were soon patched up, and the remaining six gun crews fired their shots. on the whole the target practice was very good and the midshipmen and the ordnance officers present were jubilant. the "nevada" returned to her wharf at six o'clock, and found a great crowd waiting for her. present was a middle-aged gentleman, mr. thompson, who had come down from baltimore on a special train; he was full of emotion and feeling, and wild with eagerness to see once more the dear little boy who had been so rudely torn from him. among the crowd were police officers, sailormen, and a company of marines. the transfer of the three miscreants to the police did not take long. outside of the naval academy gate a howling, derisive mob of whites and blacks had gathered and they jeered the miserable criminals as they were taken through the streets to the railroad station. language was not powerful enough for mr. thompson to express his gratitude. "what can i do for you, sir?" he asked of commander brice. "i had determined to give the kidnappers the ten thousand dollars they demanded; could i--may i----" "your train doesn't leave for a couple of hours, mr. thompson; suppose you take dinner with me--and of course you know how glad we all are your boy is restored to you. but i'm going to introduce to you the midshipman who knocked the mast out of the yacht, the bulliest shot i've ever seen. come here, mr. drake; this is georgie's father." "what can i do for you, mr. drake?" eagerly asked the happy man. "please say something--do let me do something for you." robert thought a moment, and then said: "why, sir, i'm going to graduate in less than three weeks; won't you come to my graduation, sir? i'd be so glad if you would." mr. thompson looked reproachfully at them both. "well, all i can say is, you are all gentlemen, every one of you!" tears stood in his eyes as he said this, and he couldn't have said anything that would have touched and pleased officers and midshipmen more deeply. this affair redounded to the credit of the naval academy. the superintendent had acted quickly, captain brice had acted with judgment, and midshipmen could hit when they shot. this was the boiled-down newspaper comment. "how did you feel, bob, when you shot at the 'robert centre's' mast?" asked stonewell later. "feel? why, i didn't feel at all, beyond an intention to hit the mast." "but wasn't there an idea in your mind that you might hurt somebody?" "you see, stone," said robert, "at that moment captain brice's will dominated my action; i was a machine, an automaton. i was completely controlled by him. now when we talk this over in cold blood it seems terrible, but i suppose that in a case like that a man loses all personal feeling--he is under a peculiar power. i imagine this is human nature and accounts for a lot of things. in our case it results no doubt from the military training we have received here these last four years. now when we get an order from the commandant or officer-in-charge we just naturally obey it." "i think you're right, bob. well, old chap, you are graduating with flying colors. i'd rather have aimed the shot that took down the 'robert centre's' mast than have done any other thing that has happened since i became a midshipman. you've won the flag, that was your great ambition; and you are graduating number five or six. but everybody here isn't as happy as you and i are, bob. i'm quite concerned over harry blunt; he stands in some danger of bilging; not a great deal, but it is possible." robert stiffened immediately. "since when have you taken up with that rascal, stone?" "look here, you've no right to call him a rascal. you've frenched yourself; so have i, so have blair and farnum." "since when have you taken up with him, stone?" persisted robert. "i haven't taken up with him; i hardly ever have occasion to speak with him. but i think a lot of helen and his father and mother. you do too; you don't want to see him bilge, do you?" "for the sake of his father and mother and sister, no. let's talk of something else. this is friday; the annual examinations commence on monday. they will soon be over and we graduate in two weeks. i'll hate to leave this place, stone; i've had such a happy year." "it has been fine, indeed. well, bob, we'll be back here as instructors some day. perhaps one of us may be officer-in-charge. by the way, i'm going to say good-bye to you for a couple of days. i've leave to go to washington. i'm going to take the five o'clock train to-night and i'll be back sunday morning at about ten o'clock." robert looked at his roommate with unconcealed amazement. "well, stone, you'll excuse my being astonished. but for an intimate chum you are the most remarkably secretive, non-communicative, open-hearted fellow that ever lived. why, to go to washington is an event for a midshipman. were i going to washington, everybody in my class would know of it. but it's just in line with your lonely trips out to conduit street. now, stone, i'm intensely interested, you know that; and i'm not going to ask any questions; but if you can tell me why you are going, what you are going to do, i do wish you would." "bob, i've had a family matter on my mind for some time and i just cannot talk about it. but i think everything is coming out all right. i expect to be back here with a free mind sunday morning and i hope to talk openly with you then. good-bye; i'm going to start now." "i'll go to the train with you; there's plenty of time." "bob," said stonewell, awkwardly, "i've got an errand to do before i go, and--and----" "all right, stone, i understand. good-bye, old chap, and good luck. conduit street again," muttered robert to himself, after stonewell had left. chapter xxii grice appears again robert drake's character was singularly generous and ingenuous. he had taken the greatest of interest in his various studies and drills. at no time did he ever have desire or ambition of standing first in his class. without being brilliant he had a good, clear mind with excellent reasoning ability, and by hard work and diligent application he had finally taken high class rank, and now he was certain to be graduated. so much had come to him this last year in the way of friendship and honors that it had proved one of heartfelt satisfaction to him, and robert realized that he would always look back upon this year as probably the happiest period of his life. stonewell had left on friday, and the next night robert went to a hop given at the armory. these occur many times during the year, and serve to bring desired relaxation and pleasure into the crowded, hard-working life of the midshipman. "helen, is your gown all ready?" asked robert with glad triumph in his face. "oh, robert," exclaimed helen with enthusiasm, "i knew you would win the flag. i'm so happy about it, and so is father and mother. you see we are really proud of our friend who has done so well. really, robert, i am truly glad to be distinguished among your friends by your asking me to present the flag. i wanted you to win it for yourself, not for the brief distinction that comes to me; and actually i don't present it to you; it's already yours. i've had these thoughts all day, robert; i can only say i'm proud to be the one to present the flag to you, just because i'm proud of my friend." "don't analyze too much, helen; take the day as it comes and enjoy the honey of the hour. you see, the friendship of you and your father and mother is something i will always remember, and little as the flag presentation may be, neither you nor yours will forget it." "little!" exclaimed helen, the real girl coming out, her philosophizing over; "well! i guess it won't be little. i'm to be out in front of seven hundred midshipmen, all by myself, and there will be ten thousand other people looking at me. i will have on a new gown made at the convent at baltimore and a new hat and a gorgeous bouquet of american beauties. i imagine you won't think it's little when it happens, robert drake." robert laughed. "that's right, helen; that's the way to feel. by the way, do you remember that sunday long ago, when we took our first walk? it was soon after i first met you." "oh, yes. and you helped me jump over a mud-puddle." "do you remember the invitation i gave you then to our class graduation german and ball?" "yes, robert, i remember all that and you have spoken of it since. indeed i shall be glad to go with you." "i was just thinking how pleasant our friendship has been, helen, and how all of these things have come to pass. i was so blue and unhappy the day i first went to your father's house--you see there weren't many people who had a friendly word for me then. your father has always been a true friend of mine." "indeed he is. he is here to-night; hunt him up later; he always speaks of you when he comes to annapolis; he will talk to you of your father; he sees him every day now. but, robert, i can't help but be surprised that though you are so friendly to father and mother and me, you are always so hostile to harry. harry wants to be friendly; he said only yesterday that he liked you, but that you cut him every time you met him." "i wish your brother every good luck, helen, and i hope he'll be worthy of his father. some time----" "robert, there's that old colored man in the doorway again, old grice--he is surely beckoning to you--i wonder if he has 'disregarded' with his wife again about religion. go and see what he wants and come back and tell me about it." it was now nearing eleven o'clock. in their talk robert and helen had walked several times around the room, so engrossed with each other that they paid but little attention to the beautiful music and none to the happy throng of young people gliding over the floor. robert looked with annoyance at grice. the latter was now gesticulating frantically at him through the open doorway. "what do you want, grice?" he asked almost roughly. "come 'long, mistah drake," the old colored man cried; "come 'long or yo'll be too late." "come along where?" "to the department of mathmax. the two midshipmen gwine ter steal the zamnation at 'leven 'clock ter-night." "how do you know?" "they come las' night. i was there. i heared dem talk; they had keys an' opened the doors and desk where the zamnations are kept. i heared one say the zamnations were not there; he says, 'we'll come back 'leven saturday night; the zamnations are sure to be here saturday night.' and they wuz right. i knowed the zamnation wusn't there den, but dey is there now. so, come 'long, hurry up." "have you told anybody?" "no, suh," and a look of cunning came over the face of the old darkey. "'deed i haven't, mistah drake. ef i tole anybody he would say ole grice lied and i would be dismissed. no, suh, i haven't tole no one. come 'long, mistah drake, or the zamnation will be stole." "you idiot," exclaimed robert, intensely angry. he looked about hoping to see some officer he could consult, but none were near him; he had a notion of getting some midshipman to go with him, but at this instant "home sweet home" was started by the band, indicating the close of the dance, and now it would be impossible to get any advice or anybody to come with him. "fletcher," he said to the midshipmen's head waiter, who was at the lemonade stand, "find captain blunt; tell him i'm unexpectedly called away; ask him to tell his daughter." "come 'long, mistah drake, or the zamnation will be stole, an' ef it is i'll tell the commandant ter-morrer that i tole yo' an' yo' wouldn't come. come 'long, suh," urged the old man, his face glowing with an eager, frightened look. robert groaned in extreme disgust. the matter was unutterably distasteful to him, but he felt helpless. he wished that the examination had been stolen and he had known nothing about it. but there was no help for him; he knew he had to go, so with an impatient angry exclamation he quickly went to the hat room on his right, and a moment later joined grice. without further talk the two then ran across the grounds and soon were in the academic building. here all was dark, but grice had keys with him and led the way. "they'll be heah soon, suh," whispered grice; "now ef you go behind that table, an' kneel down, you'll be near the zamnation papers; i'll go over heah, an' after they get to the desk i'll turn on the 'lectric light." robert took the old man's suggestion and crouched down by a long table. the moonlight streaming through the window threw weird, ghostlike shadows over the floor and gave robert a creepy sensation. he felt intensely annoyed and irritated to be there, but realized it was a duty he could not avoid. at the other end of the room was old grice; outside was heard the rumble of carriages coming from the armory; the bell in the yard struck six, and was followed like an echo by the bells from the ships and tugs at anchor in the harbor. a marine sentinel not far away called out in tones long drawn out the words, "post number three--and all's well." and then came a slight noise. some one was surely fumbling at the door. in the stillness robert could hear his heart beat. it seemed as though seconds were prolonged into hours. soon robert was conscious that the door leading out into the hall was being slowly opened and softly closed. and then in the dim moonlight, he saw two dark figures like phantoms, making no sound, approach the desk where he knew the examination questions of the coming week were kept. with painful intensity of mind, and with a suffocating feeling, he saw them pause before the desk and heard a faint jingle, as of keys on a ring. then the room was suddenly flooded with light. robert never afterward liked to think, far less to speak, of the feelings he experienced in the next few seconds. they brought him more agony, more desolate grief, than he had ever felt before, or, it is hoped, will ever come again to him. [illustration: _he saw two dark figures_] with startled, frightened glances the two jumped up. one was in civilian garb, a brown slouch hat was down over his forehead, a heavy dark moustache and beard covered his face; he wore a tightly buttoned up coat. the other was in midshipman uniform, and five golden stripes adorned each sleeve. "oh!" gasped robert, in anguish; "oh, stonewell." robert himself, unseen under the table, was almost overcome with grief and dismay. the bearded man jumped as if he had been shot, and then his companion exclaimed in a low voice: "run, harry, we're caught." as he said this both bolted from the room, and the last robert saw of them was the electric light flashing on the golden stripes, which for a year had been robert's joy, and the pride of every midshipman, but were now so dishonored and disgraced. the shock was too unexpected, too sudden for robert. so his beloved friend, his idol of manhood and honor, the ideal all-around midshipman of his time, had proved to be but a low, contemptible dastard-robert's head sank on his knees and unrestrained convulsive sobs burst from his lips. he was suddenly robbed of that which was dearest to him; and blank hopeless desolation took possession of him. chapter xxiii robert resigns "didn't i tole yo' so, suh? that other man was mistah harry blunt, suh; didn't yo' hear mistah stonewell call him harry, suh? an' suppose dis ole niggah had done tole the commandan' that mistah stonewell, the fines' gemman in the 'cademy, and mistah harry blunt, the son of capt'in blunt, were stealin' zamnations, what would have happened ter ole grice? he'd been 'cused of lyin', yo' knows dat, mistah drake. i known fer seberal months dat mistah harry blunt been goin' about town in cibilians' close, but i ben feared to tole any one. ain't i right, mistah drake? we done catched 'em, suh, an' yo' is evidence that ole grice done tole de truf." with horror in his heart, and almost unmanned by the situation which had so suddenly burst upon him, robert was speechless. he was confused, entirely confounded. that one of these unprincipled midshipmen was harry blunt did not surprise robert; he was quite ready to believe anything of that young man. but it brought him into an intensely disagreeable position. he knew he would be called upon for evidence, and to give testimony that would cover all of the blunt family with ignominious disgrace--that family who had rescued his own father and mother from absolute want, which had put his father in a self-respecting, self-supporting position. "i had rather bilge than do it," thought our cadet lieutenant. wild bitterness toward harry blunt filled his mind. and yet these feelings sank to small dimensions compared to those concerning stonewell. faith in everything seemed to be lost with faith and trust lost in this old friend. and combined with this was a feeling of inexpressible amazement, amazement made up of many different things. robert was astonished that any reason could have existed which would have induced stonewell to join harry blunt in such an enterprise. in a helpless, uncertain way, robert imagined that blunt had some hold over stonewell, and even this was hard to believe. "but how else can i account for it?" he asked himself. "i never would have believed anybody, or any number of people had they told me they had seen stone do this--but it was stone--in his uniform with his five stripes on his sleeve." had robert known of a conversation between the two intruders after they had dashed out of the building, he would have been still more amazed. "it's too bad, stonewell," said the one; "you did it all for me--no man ever did so much for me as you have. but i'm afraid you were recognized; i wish you hadn't had on that uniform and had some disguise. i'm awfully sorry i got you into this." "don't feel that way, harry; i suggested it," replied the other. "i hope i was not recognized. but if i were, i will have to stand for it. did you see anybody in the room?" "no," answered harry; "my one hope is that whoever it was didn't see you; nobody would have known me. good-night; i'll be around to conduit street to-morrow afternoon and will tell you of any talk i may hear." now that old grice's mind was easy in regard to himself he was much concerned about robert. "doan yo' feel bad, mistah drake. the commerdan' will think yo' is a smart young gemman when yo' report this; he won' think yo' had nuffin' to do with it yo'self. i'ze gwine ter tell him i couldn't hev detected the gemmen ef it hadn't been fer yo', an' he'll give yo' mistah stonewell's five stripes, suah as yo' is bawn, he will, suh." grice rolled his eyes in ecstasy. he imagined he too would receive praise and reward for what he had done, and now he was quite happy. "shut up," cried robert, annoyed beyond endurance at his rambling. and without another word, or so much as a glance at grice, he slowly walked away and returned to his room. he feared yet hoped he might find stonewell there. "if i could only see stone," he thought, "i'd surely learn some excuse for him. but why did he do this? why did he pretend to go to washington? why should he engage in such an affair with harry blunt?" countless other questions crowded themselves into robert's mind, but to not one could he find a suitable answer. he found his room empty, nor was there any evidence that stonewell had been there. robert paced restlessly up and down the room in troubled thought, and as the minutes dragged on he grew more and more hopeless. "well, i'm done for, as well as stone and harry blunt. i suppose grice will report this matter, and i'll be called up; i'll have to give my evidence against stone and blunt or else be bilged myself. well, i'll bilge. i can't help what stone has done; i could never be happy if my evidence were to dismiss him. as for that blunt, who got him into this--well, he's the son of captain blunt, and helen's brother. i never could convince them i was not an ungrateful cur. no, stone and i will both bilge together; but i wonder if stone isn't now in blunt's room----" and robert stopped short. it was now after midnight, and all the midshipmen were back from having escorted their partners to their homes. robert looked out in the corridor and saw that the midshipman in charge of the floor had left his desk. "the men on duty are turned in; i'll go to blunt's room and see if stone is there." robert darted through the corridor. turning a corner near where harry blunt's room was he saw that young man just entering it. robert jumped in after him. "where is stonewell?" he savagely demanded. when blunt saw who his midnight visitor was he was visibly startled. "why--why--how should i know?" he stammered. "you hound, you----" cried robert. "tell me where stonewell is! do you hear me? tell me where stonewell is!" and robert seized him by both arms. "i--i don't know--i haven't seen him for some time," faltered harry blunt, with a white face, in which fear was but too plainly depicted. from the overhead transom light from a corridor lamp streamed in, and on the table in the room were three burning candles. robert looked suspiciously at harry. in the latter's arms was a bundle of clothing. robert suddenly grabbed this and opened it up. it was composed of a dark sack coat, out of which two articles fell to the floor. robert picked them up and instantly recognized them. one was a brown slouch hat and the other a false beard. in an agony of bitterness and hate robert completely lost control of himself. he grabbed harry and shook him violently and then dashed him against the wall. "you contemptible cur," he cried. "for the last time, will you tell me where stonewell is?" "i don't know," sullenly replied harry. "do you expect to see him again to-night?" "i do not." robert looked at him utterly without belief. "drake," implored harry, "if you report me for this you will bilge me; you know how that will affect my people; i suppose it is your duty to report me, but if you do only one thing can happen to me. i will be dismissed; you know that as well as i do." robert looked at him with contempt, and left the room. the long night passed slowly, but it brought no sleep or rest to the overwrought nerves of robert. he went to bed and tossed about in an agony. "oh, that stonewell would only come," was robert's thought, repeated countless times. but stonewell did not come. the moonlight faded away; the silence was broken only by the striking of bells and the monotonous call of sentries. the first gleam of dawn found robert still wide awake, hopeless and dejected. mechanically he prepared his room and himself for sunday inspection. finally reveille was sounded, the gun thundered and bancroft hall burst into life. later came breakfast formation and robert, against his inclination, had to mix with the other midshipmen. "what's the matter, bob?" inquired peters, with friendly concern; "you're not looking well." "oh, i'm all right," impatiently answered robert. then came breakfast, which seemed interminable. robert sat at his table's head longing for the order "rise." food would have choked him; he gulped down a cup of coffee, and sat idly drumming the table. after breakfast glassfell came up to him. "look here, bob, what's bothering you?" he asked with real solicitude. "you're not yourself this morning, old chap. what's the trouble?" "have you seen stonewell?" abruptly asked robert. "by jingo!" exclaimed glassfell. "last night i could have sworn i saw stonewell pass me. i was on main street, and a midshipman with some stripes, and i thought a good many, passed me in a great hurry and turned into conduit street. it was dark and yet at the time i had no thought but that it was stonewell. 'hello, stone!' i called out; 'i thought you were in washington;' but the fellow paid no attention to me. he seemed to be in a hurry, almost running. then i concluded i must have been mistaken, because i knew stone was in washington, and it was pretty dark. the thing bothered me a bit for the time, but i must have been mistaken. i had taken my partner home from the armory and was on my way back. it was about half-past eleven, i think. but why do you ask me about stone? he won't be back from washington until ten this morning." "if you see him tell him i'm looking for him," and robert turned away. he now wanted to be by himself. he went in one of the wing corridors and looked out of the window, hardly replying to different salutations of midshipmen who passed him. outside it was raining, one of those tenacious rains that seem determined to last throughout the day. overhead were spread heavy dark forbidding clouds; the day was gloomy and hopeless, but not nearly so much so as felt this midshipman. after a while one stroke of the bell told robert it was half-past eight, and soon he saw the commandant's tall form, wrapped up in a great rubber coat, come down the walk. some time later he saw two figures emerge from the trees that line the main walk; one he recognized as that of commander beckwith, the head of the department of mathematics, the other, of low figure and shambling walk, he instantly recognized as that of old grice. with throbbing heart, robert watched them until they disappeared into the commandant's office; then the cadet lieutenant went to his room. it was evident to him that grice had told his story to commander beckwith and the latter was now talking with the commandant about it. robert waited for the summons he knew was coming, to appear before the commandant. thoughts came surging through his brain. sooner than testify against stonewell he would accept dismissal. and likewise, in spite of his bitter dislike toward harry blunt, before he would bring disgrace upon the dear friends who had done so much for him, he would accept dismissal. robert, with a steady mind, without hesitation, determined on this stand. he now knew his last moment of inaction had arrived. not that he had any hope or expectation of saving either stonewell or blunt, but that he should be the means of their disgrace and dismissal was an unbearable thought. it were far better to bilge. steps were heard in the corridor and farnum appeared at his door. "hello, bob," he said, "the commandant wants to see you right away. he's in his office." "all right, farnum, i'll start in a moment." and then taking a sheet of official paper, and hurriedly heading it, he wrote: "i hereby tender my resignation as a midshipman in the naval service." this he signed, and with it in his hand he walked down the corridor, and was soon standing before the commandant. chapter xxiv it was stonewell "good-morning, mr. drake," said the commandant, pleasantly enough. "i'm surprised that you haven't been to me with a report before now--that is, unless grice has made some great mistake. he has told me that you and he caught two midshipmen last night attempting to steal an examination--he says he knows who they are, but seems afraid to give their names. who are they, mr. drake?" commander dalton was grave and impassive. he spoke to robert as one officer might to another on an official matter; his manner betokened an expectation on his part of receiving an absolutely frank report from the cadet lieutenant. instead of making any reply robert approached the desk at which the commandant was sitting and handed him a folded sheet of paper. "who were the midshipmen, mr. drake? or did you fail to recognize them?" and then after a pause, with a trace of annoyance in his voice due to robert's backwardness in answering his questions, "or is grice's report incorrect?" he looked at robert with surprise as the latter made no effort whatever to reply. he then opened the paper and cried out in amazement: "you tender your resignation as a midshipman? what does this mean, sir? i have asked you certain questions which you do not answer, and then you resign. come, mr. drake, explain yourself, sir! first tell me if grice's statement is correct. do you refuse to answer, sir?" still robert was silent; he looked at the commandant with gloomy, troubled eyes. "mr. drake, are you aware of what you are doing? don't you know that persistence in this course will cause your summary dismissal?" "don't dismiss him, capting," cried out old grice, now in great trouble about robert. "he's a fine young gemman, 'deed he is, suh. i'll tell yo' who dese young gemmen wuz; he doan' want to tell yo', but i'll tell yo', capting, suh; dey wuz mistah stonewell and mistah harry blunt, suh. i seed 'em, suh, and mistah drake seed 'em, and mistah drake doan' want ter tole yo', suh, becase----" the commandant jumped from his chair as if he had been shot. "what are you talking about? you're demented!" he roughly cried. "do you know who you are talking about? do you know that mr. stonewell is cadet commander? grice, you must be crazy!" "yes, suh, capting, suh; beggin' yo' pardin, suh, dat's why i didn't tole yo' befoah, suh. i knowed you'd say ole grice wuz surely crazy; but de fax am, capting, that mistah stonewell, in his unerform--i counted de five gold stripes on his sleeve, suh, at de time--and mistah harry blunt, the son of de ole commerdan', at 'bout 'leven 'clock las' night tried to steal a zamnation. i seed dem try, and mistah drake, he seen 'em try ter steal it. an' ef yo' doan' believe me, capting, yo' ask mistah drake; he knows mistah stonewell tried to steal the zamnation 'kase he seen him. yo' ask mistah drake, capting." "mr. drake," cried commander dalton, "you have heard this monstrous charge; i'm waiting for your indignant denial! why are you silent? are you mute, when you hear the character of the first midshipman of his time so shamefully assailed? you shall answer me! do you understand that this negro says that you and he together saw mr. stonewell and mr. blunt attempt to steal an examination last night? do you hear that, and are you silent, sir?" commander dalton's manner was vehement and intimidating. "what have you to say, sir?" he thundered, slamming a clinched fist with a bang on his desk. with parched lips and in trembling accents robert commenced to speak. four years of the strictest training urged him to yield to the commandant's order; but robert had expected this and had tried to prepare himself for it. "as i have handed in my resignation, sir," he faltered, "i respectfully request that i be not asked any questions. this is all i can say, sir." the commandant dropped into his chair; he looked sorrowfully at robert, and then in an altered tone said: "mr. drake, you and mr. stonewell are close friends, are you not?" "he has been more to me than a brother could have been, sir," replied robert, in a broken voice. and then in an effort to control his feelings he turned his back on the commandant and with blinding tears in his eyes looked through the window in front of him at the mournful, steady rain without. captain dalton picked up a telephone and said, "central, give me number twenty-seven. hello, is this captain blunt?" "yes, the commandant of midshipmen." "blunt, can you come to my office immediately? a most serious charge has been made against your son." then he rang for his orderly and said: "tell the officer-in-charge i won't inspect this morning, and tell him to send midshipman blunt to my office immediately." when harry blunt walked in the office, instead of his usual debonair manner, there was a look of worry and anxiety on his face. "wait a few minutes, mr. blunt. beckwith, excuse me while i write something." harry blunt glanced at robert and at the others; several times he looked as if he were about to say something, but he did not. it was not long before captain blunt appeared; he jumped out of an automobile that had stopped before the academy steps, and fairly ran up them and into the commandant's office. commander dalton rose to greet him with a worried expression. "captain blunt," he began, "a week ago mr. drake reported to me that grice informed him two midshipmen were planning to steal an examination in mathematics; i told mr. drake to ascertain who these midshipmen were if he could. this morning grice reported to his department head, beckwith, that he and mr. drake had caught two midshipmen in the act of stealing this examination. grice was afraid to tell who they were; he said mr. drake could. i sent for mr. drake and asked him who they were, and if grice's statement was true. instead of replying mr. drake hands me this paper. read it. then grice made the most astounding statement i have ever heard. he says the midshipmen were mr. stonewell and mr. harry blunt." "impossible!" exclaimed captain blunt. "and when grice made this statement mr. drake remained silent, and he still remains so." "impossible!" again exclaimed captain blunt, in an agony of spirit. "harry, my boy, say it is false." "he cain't, capting blunt, he cain't, becase i seed him; an' mistah drake, he seed him too, suh," broke in old grice, feeling that he had to substantiate his charge. "mr. stonewell was in unerform, suh. mr. harry blunt wuz in citerzens' close; he had on an ole brown hat and he wore whiskers, but i knowed him; i done seen mr. harry afore in dem same close." "when and where?" demanded commander dalton. "in capting blunt's kitchen, suh; i wuz er passin' by the house at night when all midshipmen is supposed to be studyin', and i seed a man in the kitchen. i seed him take off dem whiskers and de hat an' i seed it wuz mr. harry blunt. yo' ask him, suh. an' i seed him 'nother time, suh. capting, yo' 'member that time at de theatre, heah, when a man stood up in a box an' says, 'three groans for de superintendent an' commandan''? dat wuz mistah harry blunt too, suh; i wuz dar. i didn't know it at de time, but when i seen mistah harry in capting blunt's kitchen i knowed it then, 'cose he had on de same hat an' coat an' whiskers. ef yo' doan' believe me yo' ask him, suh; an' las' night mistah stonewell calls him harry. i heard him an' mistah drake heard him. an' ef yo' looks in mistah harry blunt's room i spect yo'll find them whiskers an' coat." beads of perspiration burst out on captain blunt's forehead. he tried to speak, but his voice choked in his throat. that this disgrace was to come upon him after a lifetime of honorable service in the navy was hard, but that the pride and hope of his life, his son harry, could be guilty of so vile an act, was an unbearable thought; he looked at harry. frightened and appealing, the latter cried: "father, i deny that----" "keep still; don't say a word," called out captain blunt; then turning to the commandant he said: "my son is in a terrible position, dalton; he might be tempted to falsehood. i want to save him from that, at least. before we go any further i want to ask you to have his room searched--i would like to be present when it is." the commandant sent for the officer-in-charge, and directed him to take a cadet officer and search harry blunt's room. captain blunt left with the officer-in-charge. it was not long before they returned, and the cadet officer carried with him a bundle composed of a citizen's coat, hat and trousers, and a false beard. "put them on," ordered captain blunt, harshly, to his son. the latter did so mechanically. "will you please send for some midshipman who was at the theatre that night?" "all of the first class were there, and most of the officers. i'll send for mr. farnum and mr. blair." when these two midshipmen came in, captain blunt said: "take a look at this man; have you ever seen him before?" blair and farnum recognized him immediately. the heavy dark pointed beard and moustache once seen were not likely to be forgotten, particularly when seen under such startling circumstances as they first had been at the theatre on the night penfield played richard the third. "he's the man who gave three groans for the superintendent and commandant," cried farnum, excitedly. "he's the man, sir; there is no doubt of it," said blair. "that will do, gentlemen," returned the commandant; "you will not speak of this to any one." captain blunt sat up straight and rigid in his chair; his face had turned an ashen gray. the greatest sorrow of his life was upon him. "mr. drake," he said after a moment, "have you ever seen my son in this disguise? did you detect him trying to steal an examination? i wish a direct answer." his voice sounded strange and harsh. "i have resigned, sir; i request to be excused from answering any questions," was robert's reply. commander dalton looked sorrowfully at his brother officer, but made no comment, while harry blunt regarded robert with intense surprise, stupefaction, fear and amazement. robert, inert and dull, gazing idly out of the window, suddenly gave a start and looked up with interest and expectancy as the office door was opened, and a midshipman entered. [illustration: _"that will do, gentlemen"_] "good-morning, sir," said the newcomer; "i have to report my return from two days' leave." the midshipman was stonewell. chapter xxv john 15:13 with stonewell's entrance came a silence that was positively painful. the commandant looked at him with undisguised loathing. in captain blunt's face woe unutterable was clearly depicted. harry blunt, pale and uneasy, regarded him with frightened glance. robert drake looked at stonewell with fascinated gaze; he felt that now the end of all things at the naval academy was to happen. stonewell, clear-eyed and calm as usual, looked at robert, and then slowly his eyes traveled and rested upon each person in the room. never had stonewell appeared better. in his dignified bearing there was not a single trace of fear or worry. no response was made to his salutation or report. again he glanced about the room, and getting no response inquired, "what is the matter? am i intruding?" "what's the matter?" cried the commandant. "have you the effrontery to ask what the matter is?" "i beg to be so informed," replied stonewell coolly, after a moment's hesitation. "read this paper, sir. do you not know why mr. drake has offered his resignation?" stonewell read the paper; then looked keenly at robert, then at captain blunt and harry; things seemed to explain themselves and he merely said, "ah," as if it were in response to some unspoken thought of his own. "where were you last night at eleven o'clock, mr. stonewell?" "in washington, sir; i spent the day in princeton, new jersey, and returned to washington at seven o'clock." an angry exclamation left the commandant's lips. again his closed fist banged the desk. "mr. stonewell!" "sir?" "last night, shortly after eleven o'clock, mr. drake and this man grice caught two midshipmen in the act of stealing an examination. mr. drake knows who these midshipmen are, but resigns rather than give their names. but we know them. one of these midshipmen was disguised. mr. blunt, put on your false beard and your hat." harry blunt did so, shamefacedly enough. "look at this man; have you ever seen him before?" thundered the commandant, in scornful tones, leaning over his desk. stonewell looked at harry, then at robert, and then at captain blunt. again stonewell said "ah," and further remarked, "now i understand." "answer my question, sir," fairly shouted commander dalton. "did you ever before see a person who looked as mr. blunt does now?" "yes, sir. the man who gave three groans for the superintendent and commandant that night in the colonial theatre was evidently mr. blunt in disguise. i didn't know it at the time, but evidently my roommate did. this accounts for his past inveterate hostility to mr. blunt. he never told me about it, and i have been puzzled at his strong dislike for mr. blunt. from what you have said i imagine that mr. blunt was one of the two midshipmen caught by mr. drake. i now see what the trouble is. mr. drake will not tell because of his gratitude to captain blunt." "mr. stonewell," burst out the commandant, "have you descended to the bottom of the pit of hypocrisy and infamy? do you add lying to your other crimes, sir?" "do i add lying to my other crimes?" repeated stonewell. "these are strange questions, captain dalton; will you please tell me in what way i have been infamous and a hypocrite? what are those other crimes, and in what respect have i lied?" indignation with ringing force was in stonewell's voice as he looked steadily and unflinchingly at the commandant. "grice," said captain dalton, turning to the negro, "did you and mr. drake see mr. blunt trying to steal an examination last night?" "yes, sir," eagerly replied grice; "we done catched him, suh, an' mistah stonewell was with him, suh; mistah drake wasn't six feet from mistah stonewell when i turned on de 'lectric light, suh; dere ain't no mistake, capting. mistah harry blunt was dere disguised, but i knowed 'im. an' mistah stonewell was dere; he wuz in his unerform, gold stripes an' all." "mr. drake," said the commandant turning to robert, "i will once more order you either to deny that mr. stonewell was there last night or to admit it." robert looked at his beloved friend. never had stonewell appeared more manly, more forceful. character and greatness of soul seemed to radiate from him, and it almost seemed that midshipman though he was, the others present were dwarfed into insignificance. with unmoved expression and with a clear, straightforward gaze stonewell returned robert's look, and smiled; smiled as though to assure him that all was well; robert felt pity mingle with his deep affection for his erring friend, and confused as he was and knowing that stonewell was guilty, there was yet something so noble, so fearless in stonewell's bearing that a hope leaped up in him that his friend was not without some justification for his act, impossible as it was to imagine what it could be. "do you deny that you detected mr. stonewell last night trying to steal an examination?" "as i have resigned i respectfully request to be excused from answering questions," replied robert in a breaking voice. "mr. stonewell, i shall recommend your immediate dismissal for scandalous conduct, and you too, mr. blunt. mr. drake will be dismissed for disobedience of orders. mr. stonewell, your crimes have found you out. you, the most esteemed midshipman of your time, have turned out to be but a sorry hypocrite, an impostor. you, a shameful, dishonorable man to wear a naval uniform, to represent your country? never! oh, that i had never come to this place! what is to be hoped for our navy when the midshipman we are most proud of turns out to be a hypocrite and a cheat?" the commandant spoke with, warm, intense feeling. he paused for a moment, and then contemptuously said: "you are as brazen as you are false. your position was so high that i cannot imagine what could have induced you, even though you are devoid of honor, to have so acted. and now that you are found out i cannot help but wonder--i would like to know what excuse, what explanation you can offer, and what your thoughts are at this moment." while the commandant spoke, stonewell stood proudly erect before him. he neither cringed nor for a moment took his eyes from the commandant's face. over at one side stood robert, now utterly collapsed. stonewell fearlessly looked the commandant through and through, and then he looked at robert. there was almost a break in his voice when in tones showing not a trace of resentment for the commandant's scathing, contemptuous words, but instead full of unutterable affection, he said softly to the commandant, but looking at robert: "i cannot tell you what my thoughts at this moment are, sir, but i will tell drake later." chapter xxvi commander dalton becomes angry "this matter isn't settled yet, sir," continued stonewell. "a man accused has a right to offer a defense: i insist on that right. first, i am not guilty. i shall have no trouble in proving my innocence. i shall leave your office for a few minutes and will return with the proof of that innocence. and as i have been charged with scandalous acts in the presence of everybody here in your office, i have to request that they all remain until i return and that no further action be taken until i am back." "just a moment, mr. stonewell," called out the commandant, but the former, paying no attention to this order, hurriedly left the office. commander dalton looked undecided. "i don't understand this at all. mr. stonewell should not have left at this time." "i think you had better let him go, dalton; he is entitled to present a defense if he has one," observed captain blunt. "of course, but he had the opportunity right here; blunt, do you wish to question your son?" "after mr. stonewell returns i would like a chance to talk privately with harry and with mr. drake." "father," started harry blunt, appealingly, "i will admit that----" "keep quiet, will you?" interrupted his father fiercely. "dalton, i don't want my boy to say a word. look at him; he is entirely unstrung, and in his condition i fear he may be tempted to untruth. bad as things are, i must save him from that if i can." "father," pleaded harry, imploringly, "let me speak--i deny that----" "harry, don't say a word. there is no hurry about this; dalton, have you any objection to my having a private talk now with my son?" "none at all, captain blunt. take him into this rear office." when the captain passed robert on his way to the rear office, he said to him sadly: "mr. drake, don't hesitate to tell the facts; you have proved you will not tell an untruth, that you will resign sooner than do so. but don't spoil your whole career by trying to defend one so unworthy as my son has proved to be. and if you have any notion, as implied by mr. stonewell's words, that you are under obligations to me, i assure you there is no such debt; and even if you feel that there is one, i freely absolve you from it. come, mr. drake, have you seen harry in that disguise? was he the one guilty of that shameful insult to the superintendent and commandant? did you detect a person in that disguise in the act of stealing an examination last night? these are now my questions, mr. drake, not the commandant's; i beg of you to answer them frankly." "thank you, captain blunt," replied robert, huskily; "but i have resigned, and i request to be excused from answering questions." captain blunt passed out of the room with his son. commander beckwith now excused himself for a few minutes, and there remained in the room only robert, grice and the commandant. the latter busied himself writing, with never a glance at robert. old grice rolled his eyes, fearfully apprehending some disaster to himself. all the midshipmen were out of the building, and absolute stillness, save for the mournful tick-tock of the clock, reigned in bancroft hall. outside the rain came down steadily, and robert drake felt burdened with a hopeless sadness. he now fully realized that his silence would in no way help or save stonewell or harry blunt; that its only result would be his own dismissal; and yet there was not in his mind any tinge of regret that he had refused to disclose what he knew. better to go out and commence over again than to stay in by taking part in the disgrace of stonewell and captain blunt's son. in regard to stonewell, robert's mind was in a state of disordered confusion. stonewell's manner and bearing were at utter variance with the idea of guilt; as much so as had been his previous character. and it was inconceivable that anything imaginable could have induced him to steal an examination. and so the long minutes passed with robert's mind going through a bewildered maze. commander beckwith was the first to return, saying as he came in the door: "i have been with the officer-in-charge; but i see mr. stonewell is returning; he'll be here in a moment." "come in the office, please," called out the commandant, to captain blunt, and when the latter returned accompanied by harry, he looked about as bewildered and perplexed as he did before he left. when stonewell left the commandant's office it was at a dead run. outside of bancroft hall he gave no heed to the "keep-off-the-grass" signs; he plunged over the lawn toward maryland avenue gate at more than football speed. just outside the gate was a public automobile. he jumped into it crying: "conduit street. rush for your life; i'll double your fare." when stonewell returned to the commandant's office, he was followed by another young man in midshipman's uniform. and strange to say the young man's coat had five golden stripes on his sleeve--strange because there is but one cadet commander at a time at the naval academy. "captain, this is my brother, frank stonewell," said stonewell simply. "your brother, frank stonewell!" ejaculated commander dalton, in tones of stupefied amazement, "your brother, frank stonewell!" he repeated in the same manner. he looked at stonewell and then at his brother frank and was speechless. "oh, stone!" cried robert drake, with joy radiating his face. "oh, stone, how could i have doubted you?" "mr. drake, i don't blame you for mistaking mr. frank stonewell for his brother; if that is what you did," finally said the commandant; for the likeness of the two brothers was marvelous, and the resemblance even extended to the tones of their voices. they were of the same height and build. frank stonewell had the same expression, the same features as had his brother. seeing them together one could detect a difference, but apart one would certainly be taken for the other. "i was in washington last night, sir. i spent the night at the house of my congressman, mr. blake. we were talking together between ten and eleven o'clock. you will have no trouble in ascertaining whether or not this statement is correct. my brother was in annapolis at that time. he has been here for some weeks, living in conduit street. i have not told him why he was wanted here nor have we talked about what may have happened last night. perhaps he may imagine. whatever he may have done, i believe you may accept his statement as truthful." "will you please tell me, sir, what you are doing in that uniform?" demanded the commandant in a stern tone. "i was sitting in my room when my brother john bolted in and pulled me out in a rush. he gave me no time to change." "where did you get that uniform?" "oh, it's john's. he has come out frequently to see me and brought it over one day. it's much more comfortable to sit about in than that bobtailed stiff jacket midshipmen wear." "humph! two midshipmen were seen stealing an examination last night. one was recognized to be your brother. what have you to say to that, sir?" "do you believe that, sir?" "i believe it to such an extent that i told him he would be dismissed from the naval academy for scandalous crimes. i accused him also of lying and of being a shameless hypocrite." "i think you have an apology to make, captain, if that is your title," remarked frank stonewell, in great good nature. "john was in washington last night. and john isn't that kind of a fellow; evidently you don't know him." "well, if your brother didn't do it, then you did." "you may find some trouble in proving that." "mr. drake, was this the man you saw last night?" shouted the commandant angrily to robert. before he had finished his question, stonewell said quickly to his brother, in a low imperative tone: "acknowledge it, frank. don't force drake either to refuse to answer or to tell on you." "i was the man, i acknowledge it," quickly interposed frank stonewell. "you are a brother to be proud of, aren't you?" announced the commandant scornfully. "in your brother's absence, donning his uniform, you committed a despicable act, trusting if caught that his uniform and the marked resemblance you bear to him would throw the blame and shame on him." "not at all, captain," replied frank stonewell, in an easy manner as one talking socially with a friend; and it was a sharp contrast to the deference and crisp military replies of the others. "not at all; you mistake the purpose of my wearing his uniform. it was to permit me to be about the grounds and buildings at night; as a civilian the watchmen would have fired me out; but rigged up in this way i would never be questioned. and as for throwing blame or shame on him; before he came for me this morning i knew i might have been seen and mistaken for him. no blame could come to him because i have been ready to acknowledge the facts." "you are brazen, sir; you have done a shameful deed, you have disgraced your brother. but i am glad to know that the shame i thought was his belongs to you. i am indeed relieved to know he is guiltless. i pity him for the burden of disgrace in having such a brother." "pardon me, captain. this is something of an academic question. what may be shameful for john or any other midshipman is not necessarily so to a civilian owing no allegiance to your naval academy. i have never lied or cheated, i have never broken a promise--i have never done a dishonorable act. i admit having engaged in some quiet larks at college, and other places--this is one of them, that's all." "you are a burglar; you could be sent to prison." "oh, i think not, captain; i think you'd have hard work to convince any jury of that." the commandant was furious; frank stonewell was cool and entirely self-possessed and not at all intimidated. none of the others present attempted to say a word. robert drake listened with absorbing interest. a great load had been lifted from him, and in spite of his own unfortunate position great happiness had suddenly come to him in the knowledge that john stonewell's character was as clean and true as he had always believed it to be. "if you have cleared your brother, mr. frank stonewell, there is one person you cannot clear, and that is the contemptible midshipman who was with you," vehemently exclaimed the commandant. frank stonewell was silent. "do you deny, sir, that a midshipman accompanied you last night?" "i will answer only such questions as concern myself," replied frank decidedly. "i know your companion, sir, and i'll show him to you." and turning abruptly toward harry blunt he exclaimed, "come over here, and let mr. frank stonewell look at you." as frank looked up into harry blunt's face, he said coolly enough, "who are you?" "who is he?" almost shouted commander dalton. "do you mean to say you don't know who he is?" "i never saw him before in my life. what has he to do with this matter?" "he's harry, the harry you spoke to last night." "harry? harry who? i never spoke to him in my life." "he's the harry of the false beard, the harry who proposed three groans for the superintendent and commandant, the harry who accompanied you last night, for whom you tried to steal an examination." "oh, i think not. i don't know who this chap is; he was not with me last night; i never saw him before. look here, captain, i hope you navigate better than you investigate," rejoined frank stonewell, in a disgusted tone; "if you don't i fear you will bump into every rock that is hanging about loose." "mr. stonewell," said commander dalton to the cadet commander, "you told me your brother would speak the truth. now, mr. frank stonewell," he continued, "your companion was a midshipman disguised in this beard and with this coat and hat on. he was recognized by this colored man who had seen mr. harry blunt at one time remove this disguise. there is every reason to believe that mr. drake had previously seen mr. blunt in this disguise. mr. drake evidently believed he saw your brother last night, and also mr. blunt, but he has refused to answer about either, for which he will be dismissed. i will add that this disguise was found in mr. blunt's room. now, what have you to say about this matter?" frank, with all the appearance of keen interest, listened to the commandant. "i would say that drake is a bully good chap," he burst out enthusiastically, "a fellow to tie to; this must be a queer place if you fire such a fellow for standing by a chum. john has told me that drake was the very best fellow who ever lived," he ran on. "i guess he's all right," and frank looked over at robert and gave him a friendly nod. the commandant looked the rage he felt and no doubt would have liked to inflict the punishment of double irons upon this insolent, effervescent trifler. he darted an extinguishing glance upon him and turned toward captain blunt and said: "captain blunt, i can get nothing from this man. do you wish to ask him any questions?" "i do indeed, dalton. mr. stonewell, mr. blunt is my son. he stands accused of having attempted, while in your company, and while in this disguise, to steal an examination. my son admits that the disguise is his property, and has been for months; but he most solemnly assures me he was not with you last night, that he was not out of this building after seven o'clock. for this offense, of which you say he is guiltless, he stands recommended to be dismissed. now i call upon you to state who was the man that was with you." "your son was not with me; i shall make no further statement than that." "do you mean that you would allow an innocent person to be punished?" "i mean i will tell the truth. i never saw your son to my knowledge till i entered this office. if after my statement the authorities dismiss him the fault is theirs, not mine. i should regret to see this done, but i shall not try to find somebody to take his place." "but how do you account for my son being recognized as the person with you?" frank stonewell seized the hat and beard and quickly hooked the latter over his ears. he then suddenly assumed a bent-over position and leaning over toward grice said: "did you ever see me before?" "fer goodness' sake, suh, i does berlieve yo' wuz de young gemman in dose whiskers." tossing the hat and beard to one side frank stonewell laughed and said: "it was the beard and hat that were recognized, not your son, sir." hardly had he spoken when the door of the commandant's office opened, and a midshipman entered unannounced. "what is it, sir? why do you enter my office without permission?" inquired the commandant. "i think i'm needed in this investigation, sir," replied the midshipman, a tall, broad-shouldered young man, athletic of build, of rather pleasant features, and with stern resolution written in his face. "i am midshipman bligh of the fourth class." chapter xxvii robert finally answers "what is it, sir?" demanded the commandant, sternly, of midshipman bligh. the latter hesitated for a moment, as if uncertain how best to express himself. "i--i--have heard that some--that some civilian clothing and a false beard were found in mr. blunt's room this morning--i learned mr. blunt was in your office--and a little while ago i saw mr. frank stonewell come into the building with his brother. i have thought that perhaps mr. blunt is charged with having used that disguise last night; is that so, sir?" "it is; what do you know about the affair, sir?" returned the commandant, looking fixedly at bligh, while frank stonewell regarded him with friendly approval in his expressive face. "mr. blunt is not guilty, sir. i was in possession last night of the things found this morning in his room." "and did you accompany mr. frank stonewell in an attempt to steal the examination last night, sir?" "i am guilty of having made that attempt, sir." "mr. blunt is also charged with being the person who proposed the three groans for the superintendent and commandant. were you guilty of that, too, sir?" "i was, sir." when bligh said this captain blunt was undoubtedly the happiest person in the room; he seemed to relax from the strain and tension he had been on for the past hour; and it is likely that a more crestfallen young man than robert drake would have been hard to find. relieved as the latter was, he felt abjectly foolish. he had made a most needless sacrifice; he had jumped to conclusions and had been entirely wrong. the commandant was silent for a few moments, apparently lost in thought. he finally remarked: "mr. bligh, do you know that this confession of yours will cause your dismissal from the naval academy?" "yes, sir," replied bligh, simply. "i suppose that you do this to save mr. blunt; was this your reason?" "that was only an incidental cause, sir; the real reason was i wanted to do one decent thing at the naval academy. i have done so many things that i am not proud of; and i want to justify frank stonewell's belief that there is some good in me. i have had a hard time here, sir. i commenced wrong, and i have been punished severely--for months not one single midshipman at the academy has spoken a friendly word to me. then some weeks ago i met frank stonewell, and somehow i opened up my heart to him--i was in a bad way at that time; but he made me feel i was not hopelessly bad; it is hard lines, sir, to be made an outcast, a pariah, by one's classmates." "i see," remarked the commandant, a bit unbelieving and skeptical; "apparently mr. frank stonewell stirred up the good that was in you and the direct stirring up resulted in your shameful act of last night. i sincerely hope mr. frank stonewell will not try to stir up any more good at the naval academy. but, mr. bligh, you at least seem disposed to tell the truth. i wish to get to the bottom of this whole affair. tell me how you got hold of mr. blunt's disguise. did he know of it?" "no, sir. my room is next to the divisional officer's office, on the ground floor. late one night, months ago, while i was getting a glass of water, i observed mr. blunt enter that office. two hours later i saw mr. blunt, in disguise, come over the terrace and soon i saw him leave the office. i didn't understand it at first, but suddenly it flashed over me that mr. blunt kept civilian clothes somewhere in his divisional officer's office. then i knew it was mr. blunt in disguise, and not a civilian, who had left and entered that office by the window. so later i took a wax impression and had a key made for the door of that office; i went in one night and found on top of the wardrobe (it is a regular midshipman's wardrobe) the coat, hat and false beard,--well, that's about all, sir. i used them several times besides the twice you know of." "that's enough, quite enough to dismiss you from the naval academy. i am glad indeed finally to have arrived at the facts. the one thing i cannot understand is that after these shameful acts you should talk such twaddle about wanting to prove there is some good in you. faugh! there's no good in a cheat, and your attempt to steal that examination was caused by a desire to cheat. you can't convince me there's anything particularly good in you by what you have done in the last twenty-four hours." "i have no hope of convincing you of anything, sir, except that i and not midshipman blunt am guilty of the offenses charged to him. if i have done that, sir, i am entirely satisfied. i admit that my intention was to cheat, but the purpose was to pass the examination, not to pass higher than some rival. it was pretty bad, but not so bad as for a midshipman who is satisfactory to cheat for the purpose of getting higher rank. now as for my purpose in coming before you--i don't know of any way you could have proved, without my own voluntary confession, that i and not mr. blunt was guilty. cadet commander stonewell has spurned me. mr. blunt has repeatedly treated me with contempt. this resulted from my own unfortunate start here; i don't say it wasn't my fault, but i do say that i have been given no chance to retrieve myself. every one here seemed to be against me--this was a new experience to me, sir. every day was full of bitterness and unhappiness. i could not feel i was so entirely worthless! the groans i proposed were a bubbling over of this bitterness; it was not personal to either the superintendent or yourself. at a time when i was ready to do anything vile mr. frank stonewell got hold of me and he has made a different man of me, at least in my own feelings. i have a self-respect now that i had been without for months. in spite of last night's act, i submit, sir, that this voluntary statement should show you i am not entirely bad; and what is more important to me, i believe it will prove to mr. frank stonewell that i am on the square." "what is your purpose in telling me all of this stuff, mr. bligh?" "sir, i want to get a fresh grip on myself; i hope to live a self-respecting life, to make an honorable place for myself in civil life. can't you see, sir, that i don't want the stigma, the disgrace of dishonorable expulsion from here just as i commence civil life? sir, i request to be allowed to resign instead of being dismissed. i want a chance, sir; i've done mean things here, but even if it is the last moment, i've repented; i've done what i could to clear mr. blunt." "there's something in what you say, mr. bligh. i deprecate your wrong actions, but i acknowledge you have shown the proper spirit this morning. now write out a statement of just what your actions have been, and append to it your resignation. i will endorse this, giving you credit for your proper act of this morning. whether you will be allowed to resign or be dismissed will be decided by the superintendent. i regret you have had such a hard time here; i should be pleased to learn that from now on you will live a good life. that will do, sir." bligh left the room. "not altogether bad, is he, captain?" remarked frank stonewell, nodding approvingly at the captain. "i knew he would come up like a man when the time came." "i'll have nothing to say to you, sir; i consider your ideas of right and wrong have but a shadowy boundary between them. i'll not detain you in my office any longer," snapped commander dalton. "good-day, sir," and with an easy, friendly smile for all frank stonewell left. the commandant drew a long breath. "now, mr. blunt," he said, "you are cleared of the worst charges that have been made against you; i desire you to make a frank statement of your connection with that disguise." "captain, i owned it; the disguise is mine. you know, sir, that midshipmen do lots of things that are not discovered; if a fellow would cheat or do anything dishonorable, none of his classmates would speak to him; but if he were to 'french' as i have done, he would not lose caste. there are many offenses here of a military nature that a midshipman might commit which would be severely punished by the authorities if he were detected, and yet at which most midshipmen would smile. well, sir, i have never cheated nor done anything dishonorable; but i did have this disguise and 'frenched' out in annapolis several times with it on. i did not propose the three groans that night at the theatre and i was not out of this building last night after seven o'clock." "captain blunt," resumed the commandant, "i don't mind saying that i am more relieved than it is possible to express. now, mr. blunt, did you never fear detection? i am rather interested in this matter." "yes, sir. captain, do you remember the sunday morning you invited me to dine with you?" "i do, indeed. i recall that at first you were tongue-tied and acted queerly; then you gushed out words that didn't have much sense. that was the next day after the three groans were proposed at the theatre. i remember it well." "the night before, sir, saturday night, i went after my disguise intending to use it, and it was missing. when you called me up i was scared; i thought i was found out. evidently mr. bligh had taken it, but i didn't know or imagine he had." "who did you imagine had taken the things?" "i just couldn't imagine, except that some servant might have stolen the disguise, and then thought better of it and put it back. but no trouble came to me about it, so i didn't worry." "when you heard about the man in the theatre proposing the three groans, didn't you recognize from his description that it was somebody with your disguise on?" "why, no, sir. people said it was some cit. i never gave particular thought to that affair." "mr. blunt, you as a third classman have already received one hundred and forty-seven demerits--i have looked up your record. as a third classman you may receive in the year two hundred and fifty demerits without being unsatisfactory in conduct. for having civilian clothes in possession you will receive fifty demerits, and for having been absent from academic limits, fifty more. that leaves you only three to run on, but the end of the year is at hand and you should be able to do it. further, i shall recommend that you be deprived of your september leave. i am sorry, captain blunt," he continued, "to punish your son so severely, but if this had occurred while you were commandant i don't believe you would have been more lenient." "his actions merit dismissal, dalton; you have been more than merciful," replied captain blunt grimly. "but at the same time i am glad that my son is not guilty of dishonorable acts, and also that he is not to be dismissed. but, harry, clear up one more thing. how did those things happen to be found in your room?" "last night, father, i got to worrying about that disguise and at about midnight i went to the office and got them. i intended to take them out in town to-day. just as i got into my room mr. drake came in and asked where mr. stonewell was, and saw the coat, hat and beard. drake looked wild; i guess he didn't have much sleep last----" "that's enough, harry; you're getting a bit too loquacious," interrupted the young man's father. during all of this talk stonewell and robert were both silent and yet rapt listeners. not one word had they exchanged, but at times stonewell regarded robert with an expression of deep affection, full of concern. and robert was so full of self-disgust and shame that he dared not look either his roommate or captain blunt in the face. he felt that his own action had been simply ridiculous; that instead of heroism he had been guilty of foolishness. "now, dalton," remarked captain blunt, and his face assumed a look of intense earnestness and feeling, "everything has come out well for mr. stonewell and for my son. i hope you will pardon me for speaking for mr. drake. i realize, of course, his offense; and i know that for this offense you will be justified in inflicting any punishment up to dismissal. i am of course aware of your duties as commandant, of the imperative necessity that discipline must be maintained. and i agree that he has committed a most serious offense. but, dalton," and here captain blunt's voice, rugged veteran though he was, broke with emotion, and in husky tones he continued, "dalton, mr. drake's offense arose from sentiments that do credit to his heart--his idea was to spare me from sorrow--and he could not force himself to testify against his roommate. dalton, is this not a case for mercy? he not only tried to save my boy for my sake, but three years ago he saved my own life. dalton--i make a personal plea for mercy." commander dalton's eyes were shining very bright. he looked at robert with an expression that caused him to feel that at least his judge was sympathetic. "mr. drake," he began, "if a midshipman persists in disobedience to the commandant's orders, if he persists in refusing to answer the commandant's questions, he must be dismissed; no other action is possible. you have been asked certain questions which you have not yet answered; and by now you have had plenty of time to decide your answers. i will repeat my questions. did you last night detect cadet commander stonewell in an attempt to steal an examination?" "sir?" gasped robert, a flood of joy surging through him. "did you, mr. drake?" "i thought i did, sir, but i was mistaken; i know now it was his brother, frank stonewell," stammered robert, realizing the purport of the commandant's question, yet hardly able to answer through sheer happiness. "did you, mr. drake, detect mr. harry blunt in an attempt to steal an examination last night?" "i thought i did, sir, but i was mistaken. i know now it was midshipman bligh whom i saw." commander dalton smiled happily. "i think this disposes of mr. drake's case," he remarked. "now, mr. blunt, my advice to you is to walk a chalk mark the rest of your time here. mr. stonewell, i am sure you will forgive my words. i was mistaken, of course, and was under great feeling. you can hardly be happier over the final outcome than i am. i will turn your brother's case over to you to handle; he is beyond me. i can but say i envy you the friend you possess. evidently mr. drake would sacrifice his career rather than contribute to his friend's disgrace. and yet he could not lie, even to save that friend. gentlemen, we've had a hard morning, and deep feelings have been stirred. i think this is all. captain blunt, are you ready to leave?" chapter xxviii "bligh, bligh, bligh!" that sunday afternoon the naval academy was in an uproar, for the complete history of harry blunt's disguise had become known to all midshipmen, and every one of them was fascinated and intensely amused at his daring. it was not the commandant's intention that the facts should become generally known. but harry blunt never yet had been very amenable to orders. first he told two or three intimates under strict injunctions of secrecy, and each of these told three or four of their close friends in confidence; and in this strictly confidential way the history of harry blunt's disguise became known before dinner was over to every midshipman of the brigade. now the stern officers who inculcate discipline and a few other things on the minds and character of midshipmen know that these young gentlemen should have been pained and grieved to learn that one of their number had left a disguise in the office of the dreaded officer-in-charge of the first division of midshipmen; in that office where demerits were assigned and daily preachments were solemnly made to erring midshipmen. and we know they should have been dismayed that yet another one had proposed three groans for the highest authorities at the naval academy. but to be candid one is compelled to admit that the midshipmen's sentiments on these matters were far otherwise. indeed, the fact is bligh's audacity thrilled and fascinated every midshipman of the brigade. it came as a violent shock; and after the thrill came amazement, and then uproarious laughter. that a midshipman should have kept civilian clothes for months right under the nose of an austere lieutenant-commander touched the brigade's "funny bone." it was felt that harry blunt had a good joke on that lieutenant-commander. toward bligh there suddenly developed great admiration. his proposing groans for the superintendent and the commandant was the most audacious thing that had happened in the memory of any midshipman then at annapolis. and his frank assumption of the guilt of the acts charged against third classman blunt, a man with whom he had been on the worst of terms, suddenly awoke all midshipmen to a belief that the despised bligh had not merited the obloquy so universally cast upon him. "poor beggar," remarked glassfell to farnum, "he was only a plebe, and hadn't yet been educated up to the niceties of honor. he was only trying to save himself from bilging; and he hasn't been treated decently here, that's a fact. but what unparalleled nerve! goodness! the idea of his standing up and shouting out those groans! well, i think a good many of us have groaned more than once at the superintendent and commandant!" and glassfell chuckled. when harry blunt left the commandant's office that sunday morning he went straight to bligh's room. "bligh," he cried, "you are white, and by jingo! everybody in this academy is going to know it before night. i've treated you badly, bligh, right from the start; and when i think of what you did this morning--well, i'm ashamed of myself, that's how i feel. look here, bligh, would you shake hands?" "do you mean that, blunt?" exclaimed bligh, joyfully, his face aglow with happiness. "mean it? i'm proud to be your friend if you will only let me!" and these two young men who had so long cherished bitter feelings against each other jumped into a warm, generous friendship. with the tale of bligh's audacity went everywhere the story of how he had saved blunt. and midshipmen were touched deeply in suddenly realizing the sad, lonely, ostracized life bligh had led; of the generosity of conduct by one so universally despised. and thus there was a reaction by leaps and bounds of generous feeling toward that once unhappiest of young men. bligh's character was hardly changed in these few days; the strongest thing in it was still a desire for applause, and he fairly drank in the kindly words that were now profusely showered upon him. the direct effect was to make him tremendously happy; bligh really had never been hopelessly vicious, unwarrantable as had been some of his acts. and no midshipman had ever lived a sadder life at the naval academy. and the sudden change from ostracism to popularity overwhelmed him with happiness and filled him with ambition to merit the kindly feelings that went with him in his final days at annapolis. on the following wednesday bligh received an official letter from the secretary of the navy with the curt information that his resignation as midshipman had been accepted, and so the fear of disgraceful dismissal vanished. he was to reã«nter civil life without the stigma of expulsion from the naval service. he was all packed up and left on the afternoon train. beside him in the car sat frank stonewell. "stonewell," remarked bligh, "you will never know the good you've done me; you came to me with your friendship when i had no friend and when i needed one badly. i was going to the dogs and hated everybody; you helped to restore my self-respect and gave me a hope i might be of some account after all. i'm going to try to live right from now on, to make a point of deserving friends." "you're all right, harry," replied frank stonewell; "you just needed to get a good grip on yourself; you had the academic regulations and standards on the brain when i first met you; you were actually morbid about them. perhaps i pushed my defiance of them a little too far when i played the last trick, but i love to dare. however, it's all a phase of life. but, i say, bligh, look out there! what are all those midshipmen running into the station for?" "oh, that's blunt and a lot of third and fourth classmen. i guess they had a late dress parade and are trying to get to this train to bid somebody good-bye. probably some girl is aboard whom they all like." "all aboard!" shouted the conductor. then came a sharp cry in staccato words, from the well-known voice of harry blunt. "four n yell, fellows," he cried, just before the train started. and then from over a hundred throats came a well-known naval academy shout, as follows: "n n n n a a a a v v v v y y y y navy- bligh, bligh, bligh." it was in this way, and with this shout tingling in his ears, that bligh left annapolis. his eyes glistened. a mist swam before them. a moment later he turned to his companion and said: "frank, i've heard that same call before--but i'd given up all hope of ever hearing it again--i can't tell you what it means to me--but it seems as if those good chaps have forgotten scores of mean things and have remembered the one decent thing i did at annapolis." three years later a recent princeton graduate was speaking at annapolis with cadet lieutenant sexton. "tell me about bligh," inquired sexton. "i've heard you chaps at princeton liked him there. he was here for a while, in fact was my roommate--he had a hard time at first, but everybody here liked him when he left." "liked him!" exclaimed the princeton man. "i guess we did; we more than liked him. harry bligh was one of the squarest fellows that ever lived, and one of the kindest and best besides. we were proud of his football record, of course--he was probably the best half-back in the country last season. but he was lots more than that. he was a helpful friend to all of us. i remember he once pulled me out of a deep hole; and i wasn't the only one. just let a fellow get into trouble and before long you'd find bligh helping him out. bligh could never be turned against any one. i remember one of our fellows did something off color; he offended our class feeling; well, we were going to do something--i don't know what--but bligh sort of took charge of affairs and said: 'let's not condemn that fellow; we may only succeed in shoving him deeper into the pit he is in; let's see if we can't find some good in him, or point him right, anyway.' well, we did, and we were mighty glad of it afterward. he was always helping a fellow that needed a friend. i once said to him, 'harry, what is your ambition?' he seemed to think quite a while and then said: 'i want to be square, and i want people to believe i am square.' and you just bet, sexton, that a bullier, squarer chap than harry bligh never lived." chapter xxix the end of a long day "stone, will you ever forgive me?" asked robert shamefacedly, as soon as they had left the commandant's office. "forgive you, bob? never speak of such a thing! forgive you for sacrificing yourself for me? bob, i can hardly talk about it," and stonewell felt such a rush of feeling come over him at the memory of what robert was willing to do for him, and of his own affection for his friend, that it was necessary for him to control himself before he could continue. "bob," he finally said, "the whole thing was my fault. i should have told you about frank. you are not a bit to blame for thinking you saw me last night. well, bob, there's no use in my thanking you for your attitude toward me--such actions are away beyond thanks. it's hard to talk these things over, but i want you to believe one thing. i'll never forget what you've done for me--never. bob, i don't suppose the time will ever come when i will have occasion to show my appreciation--i don't want it to come, for that would mean misfortune--and i don't imagine i could possibly show the greatness of soul you have. but don't you ever look up to me again. i may work out probs a bit faster than you do, but for greatness of character, for everything that goes to make up leadership, you are the man of the class, not i. why, when i think of you i positively feel small." robert laughed happily. "oh, stone," he said, "don't talk foolishness. the whole thing seems like a dream to me now. i was in the most mixed up state imaginable. i just saw you do it; that's the way i felt. i knew it was you, and yet i could not realize how it could be you. i thought that for some unexplainable reason you had determined to help blunt. but why should you help blunt? the whole thing was wholly beyond my comprehension; and yet i thought i saw you do it. well, it's all right now, thank goodness. but what a remarkable resemblance your brother has to you; not only in features but also in voice." "yes, i suppose so; still, such resemblances frequently exist. there is a rear admiral in our navy that had a son here and another at west point at the same time. on one occasion when these two chaps were at home together, they exchanged uniforms and even the old gentleman himself was completely fooled. but i'm going to tell you about frank. he has been at several schools and colleges and has repeatedly been dismissed. some time ago he was expelled from princeton and came down here. you see he's afraid of my father and leans somewhat on me. i was intensely disgusted. he was mixed up in a scrape in which some unpopular professor was left over night tied up in a room. now as a matter of fact frank for once had no part in this outrage. but he was suspected and accused--it's a long story; i won't go into that, bob. he denied it, but was not believed, and was dismissed; if he were not guilty it was evident he knew who the guilty parties were, and he refused to divulge their names. so he came to annapolis, and for this thing to occur just before our graduation was extremely unpleasant to me. i just couldn't talk about him, but i used to go out to see him. a short time ago the whole truth came out, and frank was exonerated, and then to my surprise he refused to return to princeton. he had no good reason, but now i can see that he had become interested in bligh. he was stubborn about not going back, and this surprised me. he never spoke of bligh; probably the latter had asked him not to. finally he demanded an apology from somebody in princeton who had accused him of falsehood, and i went up to see what could be done. but the whole thing, including frank's stubbornness, was so distasteful to me that i never spoke of it even to you." "gracious, if you'd only told me, stone;--i hope he'll have no more trouble. but did you fix matters at princeton for him?" "yes, but his skirts were not entirely clean and he'll have to repeat his year. i imagine he'll take bligh back with him--those two have struck up a great friendship." "stone, i'm going to see young blunt, and apologize to him." "what for? you've never said a word about him to anybody." "no, but i've thought a lot. come along." "blunt," said robert later in the latter's room, "i apologize to you for imagining you did things which you didn't do." "oh, bother your apology, drake. but, by george, i want to tell you you are a regular brick. you've a pile of nerve and are all sorts of a good fellow. and isn't that chap bligh a trump? just to think of his using my cit suit, and his groaning for the supe. say, that's the best thing that has ever happened at the naval academy," and blunt burst into a peal of infectious laughter. after they left harry, stonewell said: "now, bob, we are going to call on captain blunt." "i can't, stone--you have no notion how awkward i feel." "of course you do, but you've got to get over that feeling, and it will only last a moment." but robert didn't feel awkward at all; he had no chance to. he was received by mrs. blunt with a loving cordiality that put him entirely at his ease. and helen's manner was as bright and natural as usual. captain blunt said but little, but that little seemed to say, in addition to the words he spoke: "i approve of this young man; he will be an honor to the cloth." the fact that robert had acted under a misapprehension was not considered. the intent that animated him was what influenced their feelings. nellie strong, who was visiting with the blunts, as usual was tremendously interested in all that happened. "i just knew something was to occur to you, robert drake," she exclaimed. "i never feel safe when you are around. i wouldn't be a bit surprised if a terrible turk were to burst in upon us this minute and carry you off. you're positively dangerous to have around." "nellie, i hear you are to lead our class german with stonewell," was robert's smiling reply. "yes, and i'm just delighted over it. helen blunt thinks she's the most important girl in town because she's going to present the flag to your company; and i'm awfully glad she is, robert; it's just fine. but i'd much rather lead the german with mr. stonewell. helen's glory will last only five minutes--and mine will last for hours. what in the world are you yawning for, robert drake? don't you find my conversation interesting enough to keep you awake? one would imagine you hadn't had many winks of sleep last night." "i beg your pardon, nellie," he said. "to tell you the truth now that i come to think of it, i don't think i had even one wink last night." chapter xxx graduation the annual examinations commenced the next morning and lasted throughout the week. it was a time of apprehension to some, of exultation to others, and of tremendous interest to all; for these examinations, averaged in with the previous records made in daily recitations and monthly examinations, were to determine the class rank of each midshipman. the examinations were written; they began at eight o'clock each morning and lasted till one. in the afternoons hundreds of midshipmen were to be seen streaming through the pleasant grounds of the naval academy, many of them accompanied by pretty girls who seemed to think that the institution's chief purpose was to provide them with pleasant times. for though the examinations took all of the mornings, in the afternoons were teas, launch parties and impromptu dances. and happy were the midshipmen who were without fear of failure, and so could afford these social pleasures. there were other midshipmen who, not so fortunate, with puckered brows and worried faces, feverishly worked at their books, and among these was harry blunt. the week passed quickly, and at its close robert drake knew he would graduate fifth in his class. that stonewell would graduate first had long been a foregone conclusion. the blunt family were now out of suspense and knew that harry had passed, his application to his studies in these last days being well rewarded. graduation week came, and with it the annual board of visitors, who are supposed to make a serious investigation of the naval academy in all of its parts. and for one week the midshipmen are required to show off their various accomplishments. on monday morning, the midshipmen as a brigade of infantry passed in review before the board of visitors, and robert drake, commanding the first company, felt proud indeed as he snapped out the order, just before he reached the reviewing stand, of: "first company--eyes right!" after dismissal the midshipmen rushed into their working clothes and dispersed into different shops, and great was the hammering in the blacksmith and boiler shops as the board marched through. in this week of each year the naval academy is on official exhibition for this wise board. and for its benefit sham battles are fought, young men scramble aloft on antiquated sailing ships and feverishly loose and make sail, haul on buntlines, clewlines, sheets and braces. they are mustered in the different class rooms and the board sees them at the blackboard, pointer in hand, in the act of explaining an intricate valve motion to an earnest lieutenant. what the board does not see is the alacrity with which pointer, blackboard and room are abandoned as soon as the board has passed on. so this week there were, as there always is at graduation time, sample machine shop drills, gunnery drills, electrical drills, steam engine drills--and many others. and the tired, earnest, hard-working board was marched through it all at a lively pace. this board was composed of statesmen, professional men, and business men of established reputation; but it is not certain that any of them knew the difference between a stephenson link of an engine and the club link of an anchor chain. however, they worked hard and wrote a voluminous report of fifty printed pages, which, covered with dust, is lying with fifty other similar reports in a pigeonhole at the navy department. on wednesday occurred the great day for helen blunt. at ten in the morning she was in the receiving stand gowned beautifully in simple white, and carrying a huge bunch of american beauty roses. soon martial music was heard, and then the brigade of midshipmen was to be seen across the parade ground, marching with its precise military stride. then loud vibrating orders were carried to the ears of ten thousand spectators and bugles rang out their harsh notes. in exact unison the seven hundred midshipmen, who had been in column of squads, wheeled into line, and marched steadily to the front until they were within a hundred paces of the reviewing stand, where they halted. in the centre of the long line were the colors, unfolded and waving to the breeze. "color guard to the front," was the vibrant order from cadet commander stonewell. "first company to the front and centre," followed immediately. the old color guard with the colors marched slowly to the front, and on the right of the line some quick, jerky orders were heard, and the first company broke from the line and came marching toward the centre of the brigade. thousands of spectators now saw a pretty ceremony. a young girl stepped from the receiving stand and advanced toward the waiting color guard; the academy colors were handed to her, and the ex-color guard was then marched off. helen did not remain alone for many moments, but for an instant a pretty picture was presented on the drill grounds. a beautiful girl, carrying in one arm a huge bunch of red roses, and in the other steadying the glorious colors of the naval academy, standing alone, facing seven hundred blue-coated statues. but in a moment another color guard approached, the color guard of the company judged to have won the flag. and with it marched the captain of the company, cadet lieutenant drake. [illustration: _it must have been a very pretty speech_] the new color guard halted a few feet in front of helen, and then robert stepped forward. the air was very still save for the robins chirping to their young. an absolute hush fell over the many thousand spectators. it was evident that the young lady was presenting the flag, and was making a speech to the captain of the winning company. but so far away she was, and so softly she spoke, that none heard her words; that is, none save robert drake and the new color guard. but people said it must have been a very pretty speech. after apparently saying a few words, helen seemed suddenly to pick up the colors and fairly throw them into the hands of cadet lieutenant drake. "wasn't that pretty?" was an exclamation made by many of the onlookers. "you have done very well, mr. drake," faltered helen; "your company has done splendidly. oh--i had a good speech made up, but i've forgotten all about it! father wants you to come to dinner to-night--he has a surprise for you--oh, dear, what am i talking about? won't this do? haven't i said enough?--oh, take the flag!" and helen threw it at robert. the next day the papers said that miss helen blunt had made an eloquent little speech of well chosen words when presenting the colors to cadet lieutenant drake, but of that one may judge for himself. "thank you," said robert, simply and gravely, taking the colors and handing them to his color sergeant; "the first company is honored." and then stonewell, in clear ringing tones shouted: "three cheers for the girl who has presented the colors." "hurrah--hurrah--hurrah!" rang out in perfect unison from over seven hundred young throats. then cadet lieutenant sam blair stepped to the front and proposed, "three cheers for the winning company, and its cadet lieutenant," which were heartily given. "what's the surprise, helen?" asked robert that evening at seven o'clock as he entered the blunt house. "i won't tell you; you must find out for yourself," replied helen happily; "come into the drawing-room." "mother--father--oh, what a happy surprise," cried robert a moment later. "captain blunt, you have had my mother and father come to my graduation!" indeed robert could hardly speak for sheer joy. "yes, robert," said mr. drake, "captain blunt has asked us to visit him for your last days, and here we are; we thought to give you a happy surprise." it had been many years since mr. drake had visited annapolis. he vividly recalled his own midshipman days, the joyful strife and the friendly rivalry. these had long passed, but he found classmates and many old navy friends with whom to renew old scenes and almost forgotten times. the first class german took place that night in the armory, and only first classmen and their chosen partners went on the floor. these midshipmen had donned for the occasion their new white officer uniforms, and the young ladies all wore pure white dresses with ribbons of old gold. stonewell led, and with him, radiant with happiness, was nellie strong. the first classmen, seventy in number, were all present. on the balcony overhead were thousands of visitors enjoying the pretty, novel figures made by the handsome couples on the floor below. the next night the evening promenade concert occurred. the grounds were made bright with numbers of lighted japanese lanterns hung among the trees. the naval academy band played beautifully, and robert, walking between his father and mother, followed the crowd of happy promenaders, talking of his four years within the academy walls, of the difficulties he had had, and of the friends and good fortune that had come to him. and the following day was robert's graduation. the brigade was formed with the band on the right; next came the first classmen about to be graduated, without arms. then came the brigade, with rifles, the temporarily appointed cadet officers of the second class wearing swords. soon the brigade marched off with slow measured tread to the chapel, the band playing all the way that tune, full of joy to midshipmen's ears, of: "ain't i glad to get out of the wilderness?" it finally had a special meaning to the young men about to receive their diplomas. in the chapel the chaplain, dear to generations of midshipmen, made an eloquent, heartfelt prayer, and then the superintendent delivered a short address. "young gentlemen," he began, "your lives in the navy are now to begin in earnest. you have been here for four years, surrounded by a naval atmosphere, and drilled in those things required of our naval officers. from now on your work will be on familiar lines, but yet there will be a great difference. here, at the naval academy, if you make a mistake in your navigation work, you will receive a low mark. aboard ship you will do the same exact kind of navigation, but if you make a mistake you may cause a ship and hundreds of lives to be lost. the great difference is that in the outside naval service you are at all times under great responsibilities; here your responsibilities have been but slight. here, if you drill well, your company may win the academy colors, and that is what many of you have worked for. aboard ship, if the enlisted men under you do not drill well, it will be your fault, and it will mean your men do not shoot accurately, that your engines are inefficient, that your ship is neither an honor to the flag, nor could an admiral depend upon it in battle when the interests of your country were at stake. "here you have been under instruction. you have for long years been drilled in the duties of the private in the ranks, of the fireman at the furnace, of the machinist at the lathe, of the electrician at the switchboard, of the gun pointer in the turret, of the helmsman at the wheel--there is no duty that an enlisted man can be called upon to do aboard ship that you have not been drilled in at this institution. but, besides this, you have designed steam and electric engines, and built them with your own hands in the shops; you have gone deeply into the mathematics of natural law and can not only operate a machine, but you can design it and build it. "gentlemen, you have been under a most expensive instruction here, for which, as yet, you have rendered no return. "you are now splendidly equipped for your life-work in the navy. you will find that aboard ship your principal duties will be the instruction of enlisted men. you were gathered here, not only that you personally might become accomplished officers, but that you might receive instruction for the purpose of imparting it to others. you must prove that the earnest efforts spent upon you have not been wasted. you must apply full benefit of the training you have here received to the enlisted men who will soon be in your charge, or else the purpose of this institution has failed. "we expect to hear good reports of you; we are proud of you, but we will know our confidence in you is not misplaced when we hear that your guns shoot straight, your engines steam well, and that the enlisted men under you are contented and believe in you. when we hear that we will be content, for we will know our work here has produced results. "for a last word, never forget the glorious record made by our navy in every war; and may it enter your hearts that you all have a special duty to do your utmost to keep bright our naval history." as the superintendent sat down the choir sang: "god be with you till we meet again." the midshipmen were now marched out and formed a line near the band stand, the graduating class in front of the brigade, who stood at "order arms." the superintendent and other officials proceeded to the band stand; the superintendent studied his watch anxiously. "he should be here now," he remarked. "ah, there is the carriage." the carriage he looked for stopped on the walk in front of the band stand, and robert drake's heart thumped when he saw who got out of it. a rather thick-set, not overtall, fair complexioned gentleman jumped out of the carriage. everybody about glanced with much interest at him, and all hats came off. "i couldn't help being late; i had much to do this morning," remarked the gentleman; "did you receive my telegram, admiral?" "yes, mr. president, and we went right ahead," replied the superintendent; "but you are in time to give out the diplomas." "good." stonewell's name was the first called out to come up for his diploma. a storm of applause broke forth from his classmates and friends as this erect, manly young officer approached the president. cheer after cheer greeted him, for by this time stonewell was appreciated outside as well as inside of the academy. the president shook stonewell's hand warmly and handed him his diploma with a smile, saying, "we all know you, mr. stonewell; i feel like joining in that cheer myself." farnum came up next, then sewall, then ryerson, and all received generous cheers. then the name drake was called. tumultuous shouts and applause now broke loose. robert was liked and respected by the entire brigade, but as the captain of the winning company in the flag competition he had sixty devoted champions in ranks who were not willing that any graduating midshipman should receive more applause than their own popular cadet lieutenant. robert's father and mother in front seats were filled with happy pride that their son should graduate so high in his class, and with such vociferous evidence of warm regard. and then a strange thing happened, a little incident that overwhelmed not only mr. and mrs. drake with amazement, but also thousands of spectators. when the name drake was called, the most famous man in the world of his day left the platform where he had been standing, and rapidly approached robert, meeting him half way. he greeted him warmly, and said: "mr. drake, one of the reasons that induced me to come to annapolis to-day was to have the pleasure of personally handing you your diploma. the superintendent has told me your father and mother are present. are they close at hand?" "just in front, sir." "present me, please." the president said to them, "mr. and mrs. drake, i am delighted to meet you. i congratulate you on your son. i am proud of him. a year ago at this time he rendered signal service to his country." in this way the president of the united states showed that his formerly expressed appreciation had not been lightly forgotten, and thus he publicly performed an act of kindly recognition. that their son should be so wonderfully honored filled robert's father and mother with a deep happiness that outweighed all other thoughts, and they were much affected by the president's attention. one by one the remaining members of the graduating class received their diplomas and a hearty handshake from the president; and soon the graduation was over. but one more scene occurred in robert's life as a midshipman at annapolis. that night the much talked of graduating ball, given to his class, was held. the great armory was beautifully decorated with flowers and plants, and in between and overhead were flags and bunting tastefully arranged. and on the floor were beautiful girls and manly young men. "it has been a wonderful life to me, helen," said robert to his partner; "as i look back it seems that i never lived until i entered annapolis. i've had glorious times; my life has been full of hard work, but the results give me intense satisfaction. and besides the work, there has been almost complete contentment; it is so satisfactory to work hard and work successfully. and in addition to all this are the friendships that have come to me, that of you, and your family, stonewell and others." "yes, robert," replied helen wistfully, with half a sigh; "all this is so, but to-morrow you are to leave us for those dreadful philippine islands, and how we shall all miss you! that is the sad thing about naval friendships; we enjoy them daily and deeply for a short time and then suddenly our dear friends are torn from us and we do not see them for years. and then--oh, then things are changed and nothing ever seems so happy and bright as it once was," and helen's voice trembled and her eyes filled as she thought these happy days could not continue. "helen, you will let me write to you, won't you? and you will answer my letters?" "oh, yes," replied helen sadly. "and, helen, i am coming back to you, just as i am now; nothing can change the thoughts that are part of me." helen suddenly looked at robert and a glorified beauty shone from her eyes. they walked slowly around the armory satisfied just to be with each other. and a beautiful content rested upon them. other books in this series are an annapolis plebe an annapolis youngster an annapolis second classman 