[1]Each year the senior class publishes a book called "The Lucky Bag," which is illustrative of midshipman life.
[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. Hemarched 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 maybe 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."
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 footballplayers 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, andyou 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 secondteam; 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 theseason 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 ofplayers. 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 ballagain 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."
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 valiantlyagainst 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 andinto 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 Ibelieve 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 andFarnum 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.
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 imaginesections 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, ifyou'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. Youplayed 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 isdoing 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 bya 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.
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 differenttimes 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 Hallmuch 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 possibleconstruction 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 thefirst 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 onthat 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 theright; 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.
"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 rollcall, 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 ascadet 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 manœuvres 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 wasforgotten. 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 aman 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.
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 fairlywell 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 muchthat 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. Icouldn'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 himinto 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 beentaking 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 tonessaid: "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."