"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.