HE HALF AROSE FROM HIS SEAT
"It's a good cooling drink for warm weather," he observed to the young man on his right, looking squarely at him.
"Indeed it is," replied that person, looking at Bligh with friendly interest; "but try a lime phosphate some time; the West Indian lime is very cooling."
"I will," replied Bligh heartily. "You're a stranger here, aren't you?"
"Yes, and I see you are a midshipman. I've heard lots about the Naval Academy; it's a fine place, isn't it? I imagine midshipmen live a most interesting life."
"Some do, I suppose; I know others who don't. Some fellows here make a false start, slip up on something, you know, and get in a bad light, and after that they have no chance;everybody gets down on them." Bligh spoke bitterly.
"That's pretty hard luck," observed the stranger; "my sympathy always goes to a fellow in that fix. Even if he does slip up once there may be lots of good left in him, and a man should not be utterly condemned for one mistake. That isn't fair at all. If I had to choose a friend between two men, one of whom had been careless in some act and acknowledged it, and the other was of the I-am-better-than-thou-class, I'd take the first fellow for a friend every time. But my thoughts can hardly interest you,—I don't suppose they apply to you at all," and the speaker turned a thoughtful, penetrating glance upon Bligh.
Tears suddenly gushed from Bligh's eyes, and in a broken voice he said: "See here, you are the first man that has spoken to me in a friendly way for months."
Bligh showed genuine emotion and feeling when he spoke. He was totally friendless, and he suddenly felt great pity for himself.
"Why, my dear fellow," exclaimed his newly-made acquaintance, "you will pardon me for my inadvertent remarks—but supposewe take a walk; come over to my rooms, and if you feel like it talk things over with me—I don't know you, but I want to know you. I don't believe I see anything bad in your face, though I imagine there is sadness there."
These kind words were to Bligh like heaven-sent manna. Until this moment he had no conception of how he yearned for just one single friend, one person who believed there was good in him, one to whom he could open his heart and pour out its griefs. Instantly this newly-made friendship became precious, and he felt brighter and happier than he had for months. Sincerity and kindness were written in the features of this new friend.
Bligh spent several hours with him in his rooms, and acquainted him with the troubles, mistakes and heartburnings that were his daily portion in his now unfortunate condition; in doing this he saw himself in a new light; and now when his new friend pointed out where he was blameworthy, where he had been wrong, he eagerly assented. For this grave friend, sympathetic though he was to the sad story that rushed from Bligh's lips, in a kindly spirit severely criticized Bligh forhis wrong actions. He laughed heartily at Bligh's woeful story of how he had lowered himself in the ventilating shaft. "That was good, Mr. Bligh," he said; "but it's a great pity that you were caught."
When Bligh returned to his quarters he was like a different man; more happiness to his wounded spirit had come to him this day than he had had for months.
"If I had only had a friend like this when the year commenced," he reflected, "my life here would have been different. But now I'm afraid it's too late; I'm pretty sure to bilge."
AN ILL-FAVORED, RED-BEARDED ROGUE
"Bob, I think I've got the flag this year," remarked Cadet Lieutenant Blair, to his fellow three striper, Robert Drake; "everybody says my company is better than yours in artillery; I've an even chance with you at infantry—members of my company have had part in baseball and football games, fencing, rowing, tennis, gymnasium and all other contests. The second company, I think, will get the most points in seamanship, and I have more trained marksmen than you have. I've got you beaten, Bob, old boy."
"Don't you be too sure of that, Sam; the first company has a notion it wants to carry the colors next year; and look here, Sam, I'll put you on to something if you'll agree to keep quiet about it."
"What is it, Bob? I'll keep mum," replied Blair expectantly, impressed by Robert's earnest manner.
"The first company is going to try to win the flag, and I'm going to spring a big surprise on you."
"Pshaw! Is that your news? Perhaps I'll spring a surprise on you."
"Go ahead if you can, Sam, but I warn you now that I have done something toward winning the flag that you don't know anything about. It's in line with advice that was given to all of us months ago, and what I've done is perfectly proper and legitimate. I'll tell you frankly that because of special preparation I have made, I expect the first company will have a higher final multiple than your company will have."
"What was the advice you refer to, Bob? I don't recall any."
"By the way, haven't you been doing some special stunts in seamanship? Haven't some old boatswain's mates been giving your men some extra drill in handling sail?"
"Never mind about that, Bob; if I have done special work in seamanship I'm not bound to tell you what it is. But what was the advice you spoke of?"
"Sam, we'll be on the square with eachother. I learned accidentally that you were getting specially coached in seamanship; well, I'm doing special work in gunnery. It's a fair field and no favor, and may the best company win."
"Good. Some of the fellows have been figuring up the points already known to be credited to the different companies; more than half of the points are already made, you know, and as it happens both the first and second companies are so far pretty close together; we're within ten points of each other to-day and no other company is within twenty points of either of us. Either you or I will win the flag, that is certain. And, Bob, if you win it I'm going to lead the cheering for the winning company."
"I appreciate that sentiment, Sam, and if you win the flag I will lead the cheering."
"Say, Bob, have you read about that kidnapping case in Baltimore? Some rascals have stolen a little boy named Georgie Thompson."
"No, I hadn't. Jingo! I hope they catch the scoundrels and get the boy back."
The two young men shook hands in the heartiest fashion and separated. There wasintense personal rivalry between them, far more than their words expressed; it was a commendable rivalry; each was determined to make every effort to win the great prize, but each had a high personal regard for the other.
This meeting was on one of the Saturdays in May. Robert was now highly elated with the efficiency of his six-pounder crew. It drilled every day. Dummy six-pounder shells were thrown into the gun with tremendous speed and remarkable precision. There were now no slips, no jams. While this was proceeding Robert would be at the shoulder-piece, his eye at the peep-sight, aiming at some boat in the river. This was the nearest approach possible to actually firing the gun. And every man of the gun's crew was enthusiastically confident.
"Stone," said Robert, after dinner this Saturday, "I've permission to use a steamer this afternoon and I've got up a party to go up the Severn River."
"I'll bet Helen is in the party," replied Stonewell, smiling at his roommate.
"Of course she is; Mrs. Blunt is coming,and Glassfell and Farnum. Now we want you too."
"I wish I could go, but I can't," replied Stonewell, decidedly. "I've an engagement I can't break."
"Oh, rats, chuck your tailor for once—your measure will keep. But now I'll give you some information that will bring you along with us—Nellie Strong is with the Blunts; she arrived this morning and is going to stay over for graduation. Now will you come?"
"I can't, Bob, but I'll be out to the Blunts' house to-night."
"Pshaw, I counted on your going—what is your engagement; can't you put it off?"
"I really wish I could, but it's imperative; there's nothing pleasant about it—I may tell you about it later—I can't now."
"It seems to me you've been getting an extra lot of letters lately, Stone."
"Yes, more than I wish for," rejoined Stone rather bitterly.
"Helen and I went walking that Sunday afternoon, the Sunday you and I had intended going across the river. First Helenhad an errand to do on Conduit Street and right ahead of us you were walking along. You went into a big yellow house."
Stonewell gave a start. "Well," he said, "what of it?"
"Look here, Stone, old chap, you have something on your mind that's bothering you terribly. Is there no way I can help you; will it do you no good to talk things over with me?"
"Bob, I can't talk; I don't pretend I'm not worried, but I just can't unburden my mind, not even to the best friend a man ever had," replied Stonewell huskily, with almost a break in his voice. He walked away from his roommate with agitated face, and gloomily looked out upon the waters of Chesapeake Bay.
Loud were the expressions of disappointment from Robert's friends when he told them Stonewell could not join them on their trip. They all got aboard the steam launch, which immediately started up the Severn River; the day was pleasant and all were in high spirits. The Severn River is mostpicturesque in its scenery. High, densely-wooded banks, irregular in outline, line its shores, and there are many indentations of little bays that lead into the river. Three miles above its mouth the Severn widens into Round Bay, a sheet of water several miles in diameter. And above this and emptying into it is a narrow stream, which is still called Severn River.
The launch steamed through Round Bay, and then entered this narrow stream. "Isn't this beautiful?" cried Robert. "Just look at this winding little river; I wonder how far up we can go. Say, coxswain, how far up this river can we steam?"
"If I knew the channel I could take you up to Indian Landing, sir," answered the coxswain; "some of our steamers have been up that far; but I don't know the channel, sir; I'm afraid we'll go aground at any minute."
"Well, can't you follow that gasoline launch ahead of us? The fellow in it probably knows the channel."
"Yes, sir, I can do that."
A covered gasoline launch was a quarter of a mile ahead. "Give me all the speed you can," called out the coxswain to the engineer;"I want to catch that boat ahead; this river has so many little turns that I'll have to keep close to that chap ahead." The engineer of the launch turned on a steam jet in the smokestack to force the draft and the little boat instantly responded and made a great fuss in increasing the speed of the engine.
"Why don't we catch up?" asked Robert, in a few minutes; "we are surely going much faster than we were."
"Because he has nearly doubled his speed, Mr. Drake," replied the coxswain.
"Hurrah, it's a race!" shouted the midshipman; "now let's see who will win."
The steam launch commenced to gain on the gasoline boat. The coxswain had been looking at the latter through a pair of binoculars; after a time he quietly remarked to Robert, "This isn't a race, sir; those men in the boat ahead of us think we are chasing them, and if I ever saw a pair of precious rogues in my life I'm looking at them now. Take a look at them, Mr. Drake."
"Well, no one would ever say they were pretty," remarked Robert after a good look at them through the glasses. "We are catching up with them now. Hello, they've stopped."
In a short time the steam launch was abreast of the gasoline boat. In the latter but one man was to be seen, and an ill-favored man he was.
"My! What a brutal-looking fellow," remarked Nellie Strong with a shudder.
"What do you want?" demanded the man, in a surly, sullen way.
"We were stealing pilotage from you, that's all," replied Robert. "We're going up this river and don't know the channel and are afraid of going ashore. Is there danger of that if we keep in the middle of the stream?"
"I hope you'll strike a shoal and stay there till the crack of doom. You've no business to go running after another boat that way."
"What's the matter with you?" called out Robert; "and why don't your two friends show themselves? It looks to me as if you're afraid of the police."
The man made an angry exclamation and the steamer passed ahead. "What an ill-tempered man," said Helen Blunt to Robert;"I wish he'd cut off that red beard of his; he wouldn't look so much like a pirate then."
"We won't worry about that fellow. Now I'm going up in the bow with a boat-hook to take soundings; we'll run slow and keep right in the middle of the river. But isn't it beautiful around here. Just look how the little river twists and winds about and how irregular the shore is; and there are lots of little creeks running into the river and little bays stretching out from it."
"And isn't it lonely?" rejoined Helen. "There is hardly a house or a clearing to be seen; it's a regular wilderness."
Robert went to the bow of the steamer, and taking a boat-hook thrust it in the water; it was quite deep enough, so he felt reassured about the boat's not going ashore.
"There's Indian Landing ahead of us," called out the coxswain. "I don't think we had better go much further; we've got eleven miles to run before we get back, and I'm afraid of getting low in coal."
"All right, put aback and return." And soon the steamer was headed down the river.
"Where's that gasoline boat; can you seeher anywhere?" asked Robert, a few moments later.
"No, sir, we would have met her by this time if she had followed straight up the river. And that's odd, too. Indian Landing is the only place boats ever come to up here—she must be hidden in one of those lonely creeks."
"That's it, I imagine. There's something queer about that boat; it certainly had three ugly-looking men in it, and two of them didn't want to be seen. That bearded chap was a fierce-looking specimen."
"Say, Bob," called out Glassfell from aft, "mess gear is spread and we're waiting for you to pipe us to dinner, but we won't wait long—you'd better get here in a hurry."
Robert lost no time and immediately joined the others. An attractive lunch had been spread and was now attacked with energy; in the launch was a party of good friends, all in gay spirits. The day was delightful and when they finally reached the "Santee" wharf and left the launch it was unanimously agreed that a most enjoyable afternoon had been spent.
Early this afternoon Stonewell left his room, and unaccompanied went out in the city of Annapolis. He walked rapidly and before long was in Conduit Street, and without stopping to wait for admittance, entered a large yellow house. Two hours later he left and hastened to a telegraph office.
But Stonewell was not the only visitor that day who entered this large yellow house on Conduit Street. For at about eight o'clock that evening a man in civilian garb, wearing a moustache and heavy pointed beard, with a brown slouch hat drawn low over his forehead, and in closely buttoned sack coat, went to the same house, and without hesitation, opened the door by a pass key and passed inside.
AN OLD COLORED MAN IS IN TROUBLE
A hop was given that Saturday night at the Armory. There was nothing particularly noteworthy about this hop; it was just like hundreds of its predecessors. As usual, near graduation time, there were many out of town visitors, and it is likely that brass buttons proved attractive to them. Many glad faces were to be seen whirling around, and judging by the happy laughs that were heard everyone was having a jolly time.
Robert Drake had escorted an old friend that night, Miss Nellie Strong. He had seen her card filled up, had presented her partners, and had taken three numbers himself.
"Something is always happening to you, Robert," remarked Nellie as they walked around the room after the second dance. "Now tell me what misadventure you have had this year."
"Not one, Nellie; my bad luck is all over; not one single unpleasant thing has happened to me since I became a first classman."
"What was the occasion of that remarkable disappearance of yours a year ago? Surely you can tell me now; I've never been so curious over anything in my life."
"I've never told anybody about that, neither my father nor Stonewell nor Helen nor anybody else."
"Well, I declare! I don't suppose it amounted to much, anyway. And perhaps you think you're more interesting if you're mysterious. Now, Mr. Robert, tell me something else; why wasn't Harry Blunt with us this afternoon? I asked him and he said you hadn't invited him. Don't you like him, Robert? I think Harry is a nice boy."
"Don't talk to me about Harry Blunt. Let's talk about his sister. Helen is a very good friend of mine, and her father is one of the finest——"
"Robert," suddenly interrupted Nellie, "something is going to happen to you again—that colored man in the doorway motioned to you; just look at him, he's motioning toyou now; he wants to speak to you,—oh, I just knew something would happen to you."
"Nonsense. That's old Grice. He's a great old chap. He just wants to see me about something—I'll take you to where Mrs. Blunt is and then go see what he wants."
"What is it, Grice?" asked Robert to the old man at the door, a moment later.
"Sompin' powerful bad, Mistah Drake; I'se feared to talk heah. Can yo' come outside, suh? I'se somef'n mighty bad to tell yo', suh!"
The old darkey shook his head and rolled his eyes, making a grotesque effort to express the worried feelings evidently in his mind.
"Come outside, but hurry. I'm here with some young ladies, and I haven't much time to talk with you."
"No, suh, co'se not. And dem young ladies am pow'ful nice, suh."
"Well, Grice, what is it that you want with me?"
"Well, suh, I doan' know how to tell it. Yo' knows I'se messenger for department of mathmax, doan' yo', Mistah Drake?"
"Of course; what of it?"
"Mistah Drake, suh, will yo' gibe me yor promise as a naval officer an' gemman that yo' won' tell anybody what I'se gwine to say?"
"No, of course I won't."
"Well, suh, a big crime is goin' to be cormitted. An' a pore ole niggah man knows about it an' goes to a young gemman frend of hizn and asks fo' help and can't get none. And the pore ole niggah will be accused an' go to jail. Won' yo' help me, Mistah Drake? Won' yo' help a pore ole niggah what's in trouble?"
"Of course I will, Grice, but I'm not going to promise you to keep secret what you tell me."
"Ef yo' goes roun' talking 'bout what I tells yo' no one will believe me. I'll be bounced, suh, after thirty years heah, an' ef yo' doan' help me a crime will be cormitted and folks will say ole Grice done it. Ain't yo' gwine to help me, Mistah Drake?"
Robert thought for a moment, looking intently at the old negro. The latter talked with great effort. Beads of perspiration burst out on his face. It was evident that Grice was in terror of losing his all and knew not whatto do. "Grice, I'll help you if I can," said Robert. "If what you tell me is important I will talk about it to the commandant and to no one else. Now what is it? Be quick."
"Thank yo', suh. Two midshipmen is a-gwine to steal the mathmax zamnation. I wuz sleepin' in the mathmax room last night. My ole woman an' I done hav' a disregard 'bout religion yesterday; she's Zion Baptis' an' I'se Asbury Methodis'. We disregarded so hard that I didn't go home las' night,—co'se 'tain't allowed to sleep in mathmax room, but I done it las' night; well, suh, Mistah Drake, suh, suah as yo' is bawn, suh, it woke me up. Two men came in the mathmax room. The doors wuz all locked; I done that myself; they mus' have had a key made. They come to the desk were the zamnation questions is kep'. They had a light—turned it on, and put somfin' in the key bob of the desk, I seen 'em do it, suh. This morning I fin' wax in keyhole. Zamnations ain't made out yet, but these gemmen will come back with the keys and steal the zamnation—den ole Grice will be 'cused and dismissed—zamnations have been stolen befoah, Mistah Drake, yo' knowsit, suh, an' money stolen, an' gen'ally some pore niggah gets dismissed an' half de time it's some pore white trash in midshipman close what does it. Yes, suh, an' ——"
"Did you see the faces of these midshipmen, Grice?" interrupted Robert.
"Yes, suh. I done had a good luk at 'em."
"Who were they?"
"Foah de Lawd sake, Mistah Drake, doan' yo' ask me no such questionings," cried out Grice in affrighted tones.
"Do you know the names of those two midshipmen?"
"Yes, suh, Mistah Drake, suh, but I ain't a-gwine to say who they is; ef I tole yo' who they is they would tole yo' Grice prevaricated and Grice would be dismissed. No, suh, I ain't a-gwine to tole yo' who they is, Mistah Drake, suh; yo' done got to catch 'em, suh."
"Grice, I shall tell the commandant what you have told me and he will make you tell him who they are."
"I disremember their names, suh," suddenly replied Grice. "I forgets their names, but I knows 'em; they is midshipmen. Now, Mistah Drake, suh, they will come back, suah theywill, suh, an' yo' an' me will be in the mathmax room and catch 'em."
"All right, Grice, I'll help you; but I've got to go now. Call on me if anything new turns up," and Robert returned to the ballroom and soon was with Helen Blunt.
"Robert," she said after a few minutes, "we're awfully worried about Harry; he's been dropping in mathematics and is officially warned that he is in danger of failing at the annual examination. Do you think he will fail?"
"There's but little danger of that, Helen; don't worry; lots of his classmates have been warned and your brother is really bright. He would have high class rank if he studied, and he always does fairly well in examinations. I saw his name posted at the beginning of this month, but you needn't worry; he probably has been boning and no doubt will pass."
"Won't you help him, Robert?" asked Helen in wistful tones; "you know what a terribly sad thing it is to a naval family to have a son fail at Annapolis."
"Wherever and whenever I can. Just beton that; but your brother and I are not friendly and I'm quite sure he would disdain any help from me."
"Oh, Robert, what did that old colored man want?" cried Nellie Strong, running up.
"Oh," laughed Robert, "he wanted to know who that powerfully pretty girl was that I was with. He said she was the nicest girl on the floor. And then he wanted to know who made that crepe de chine gown you are wearing and——"
"Robert Drake, stop your nonsense, and tell me what that old man wanted," cried Nellie, consumed with curiosity; "are you in some more trouble; are you going to disappear again?"
"What is it, Robert; has anything happened?" inquired Helen, much concerned.
"Nothing much; an old colored man, Grice, who is the sweeper and cleaner of the mathematical department, is in trouble and wanted my advice and help. You see his wife is a Zion Baptist and he's an Asbury Methodist, something like that, and they have 'disregards,' so Grice tells me——"
"Oh, I know old Harriet Grice," interrupted Helen. "She used to cook for us when father was commandant, and every night when she went home she carried with her everything left in the pantry and ice-box. Once when I caught her in the act she said she was taking the stuff to the Zion Church; that it wasn't stealing because she was giving it to the Lord. She and old Grice have terrible rows, in spite of their both being so religious."
Everybody laughed and Nellie Strong was satisfied. Then the music started. "This is ours, Nellie," remarked Robert, and in a moment the two were lost in the crowd.
The next morning after chapel service, Robert spent half an hour with the commandant and related what Grice had told him.
"I'll send for Grice to-morrow," said that officer, "but I doubt if he will disclose the names of the midshipmen, even if he really does know them. These darkeys are remarkably stubborn when they once get a notion in their woolly heads. If Grice is telling a true story we must certainly catch the offenders in theact." The commandant thought for a moment and then continued: "I could post some watchmen about the place, but then the guilty persons might take alarm. If Grice's story is true there is surely a bad pair of midshipmen here, and we must get them and dismiss them."
THE KIDNAPPERS
Annapolis was full of excitement. It always is at this time of year, and though the town is old, and though graduation scenes have been rehearsed for more than sixty years, still the play is always fresh; young lives are about to go out and do their battle in the world, and friends come to applaud them and to spend a few days with them, and to wish them Godspeed. And so visitors by thousands poured into the ancient city; and the young men of Robert Drake's class had a sense of great importance because it was all to do honor to their graduation, now but a few weeks off.
But it wasn't only at the Naval Academy that important matters were happening at this time; for near Annapolis, events were occurring of tremendous import to a few people, and particularly so to a small, white-faced whimpering boy, seven years old.
Up the Severn River, some little distance before it reaches Round Bay, was an offshoot from the river. This offshoot, a small creek, by devious windings led through a desolate, untenanted, uncultivated, roadless region. Once, in the heyday of slavery, prosperous tobacco fields existed where now there was a dense second growth of trees crowded by a tangled underbrush impenetrable to man unless armed with a hatchet. Here, through an absolute wilderness, inhabited only by coons, squirrels and hares, the little offshoot to the Severn took its unmolested way. No Man's Creek it was called, and well named it was. Not even isolated negroes' cabins were to be seen on its banks, and wild duck in their season, unmolested by the gun, here found a secure place.
But, completely hidden in this creek, disturbing visitors had recently appeared. In one of the sharp turns of No Man's Creek, and completely hidden from view, was a covered gasoline launch. In it were three men and a small, weeping boy.
"We'll start to-night at eleven; it will be dark then, the moon sets at nine; and I'll beglad to have the thing over with. Jingo! I wish we had never done this thing," said one of them, a red-bearded man of uncertain age. "I'm sure no one followed us to Indian Landing; we landed there at a time when nobody was awake. But it was a hard trip from there across lots to this place. I never would have found this spot if I weren't so well acquainted about here. But I wish we could have got out last night—confound that leaky gasoline tank—it dished us at the last moment. But we'll be out to-night sure—it will take us an hour to run by the Naval Academy, and two hours later we'll be across the bay and in Kent Island—once there I'll be easy in my mind; we'll be absolutely safe. And then we'll get ten thousand for our trouble. Stop your crying, Georgie, we're taking you to your father. Hello, Jim, what's that noise? I hear a man shouting!"
The red-bearded man jumped up and out of the boat; he ran up a bank and returned in a moment. "We're caught," he cried hoarsely; "somebody has seen us and has given us away. We'll have to leave instantly—cutthe painter! Hurry, start the engine—shove off the boat; we haven't a moment to lose!"
With zeal born of fear and desperation, the three men worked frantically, and very soon the gasoline boat was chugging down the stream. And none too soon, for two men now standing near where the gasoline boat had been secured were shouting for them to return. With pallid faces the three men confronted one another.
"What is to be done?" asked one.
"Let's land somewhere on Round Bay shore, turn the kid adrift and run," ventured a second one. "We'll be caught in this boat; our only hope is to separate and each of us try to get away by himself."
"We'll do nothing of the kind," retorted the red-bearded man; "we will stick to this boat; we'll follow the original programme. What chance would I have? That chap saw me plainly and everybody in six counties would look for a man with red whiskers. No, sir! Those two men are left on the shore; they are miles from a telephone; we'll be halfway across Chesapeake Bay before they can communicate with anybody, and there areso many launches in the Severn River that we won't be noticed. That's the only thing to do, fellows."
"It's twenty years in prison if we're caught," remarked one with a gasp.
"Stop your sniveling! Cheer up! We'll be on the Eastern Shore to-night, and once there I defy anybody to find us."
These three men were the kidnappers of little Georgie Thompson. Seemingly their plans had been perfectly laid. Two of them had driven from Baltimore in a roundabout way to a place near Indian Landing, arriving there at night. One of these, with Georgie, had stolen that same night to where the gasoline launch had been brought by the third man. The other had gone further on and turned adrift the horse and buggy they had driven from Baltimore and joined the launch later. Had it not been for the loss of the gasoline the boat would already have been on the other side of Chesapeake Bay. More gasoline had been secured, and this cowardly trio had determined to wait until dark before leaving their hiding-place.
The gasoline launch shot out of No Man'sCreek and swung into the Severn River. Soon Round Bay was reached and the launch struck across the centre of it and, keeping at equal distance from either shore, ran down the river at full speed. They attracted no notice on their way and soon the railroad bridge was passed, then the county bridge and they were abreast of the Naval Academy grounds. No passing boats seemed at all interested in their movements, and the men felt easier. In but a short time they would be out of the river and on their way across Chesapeake Bay. Hardly a word had been spoken on this fast trip down the river, but desperate fear gripped each man's heart. Little Georgie was now crying softly; he did not realize what was happening, did not comprehend what these strange men were doing beyond their statement that they were taking him to his father, but they were a long time about it and he was hungry and uncomfortable. There was something terrifying in it all to the little boy and now and again he would sob bitterly.
When opposite the lower part of the NavalAcademy grounds the gasoline engine suddenly stopped. With a fierce exclamation of fear and rage the red-bearded man jumped to the engine and tried to start it again, but with no success.
"Everything seems to be all right here," he said in a low, intense way; "the spark is all right,"—then in a voice of fright he said, "This cock doesn't show there is any gasoline in the feed pipe; see if there is any in the tank."
"Not a drop," exclaimed the other in a terrified voice; "this rotten tank has sprung another leak."
"Get out an oar and make for that sloop," cried the red-bearded man.
Fifty feet away was a sloop yacht anchored; her sail was all spread, though the sheets were not belayed. A fresh breeze was blowing down the Severn; this helped the gasoline boat, and with the aid of the oars it was soon alongside the sloop. "Jump aboard, quick with you," cried the leader; "come along, Georgie; run forward, Jim, and heave up the anchor; never mind our boat—we've no time to lose—I'll look out for the sheets and helm."
With a practiced hand the man with thered beard grabbed the tiller. They found nobody aboard—but the sails being loosed and no small boat being alongside it was likely that a party to go sailing would soon be pulled off from the shore to the yacht.
The anchor was hove up to the bows in a moment, the head of the yacht swung round, the sails filled, and she was off with a bound.
With a critical eye the man at the helm trimmed the different sails, set the trysail and then heaved a sigh of profound relief.
"I think we're safe," he said; "hello, there's a navy ship on the port bow, and another one several miles away on the starboard bow. I'll steer between—they don't know anything about us—they won't bother us."
While the superintendent of the Naval Academy was sitting at his desk this same afternoon, his telephone bell rang.
"Hello, what is it?" he asked.
"Is this the superintendent?"
"Yes."
"This is Halstead, aboard the 'Santee.'"
"What is it, Halstead?"
"Sir, the quartermaster has reported that agasoline launch went alongside the 'Robert Centre' a few minutes ago and several people got out of the launch and went aboard the yacht; the gasoline launch is now drifting down the river and the 'Robert Centre' is tearing out into the bay."
"Who were the people that got out of the launch?"
"The quartermaster says they were strangers. One was a man with a red beard, and a little boy was along."
"Had anybody intended to take the 'Robert Centre' out to-day?"
"Yes, sir, Mr. Brooks and some friends of his. They are now being pulled out in the river in the 'Centre's' boat. What shall I do, sir?"
"Hoist the 'Robert Centre's' recall. Secure the gasoline launch and keep it awaiting my orders. Have the quartermaster keep a good lookout on the 'Robert Centre' to see where she goes. Have you any steamer you could send for her?"
"No, sir, the 'Standish' is out with the 'Nevada.'"
"I think you'll find that the matter will beexplained; it was probably a party of young officers out for a lark and a sail. Or it may have been some friends of officers; it will no doubt come out all right."
Half an hour later the superintendent was again called up by the telephone.
"This is the superintendent. What is it?" he asked.
"I am Detective Cross, a Pinkerton detective. I traced the kidnappers of the Thompson boy to No Man's Creek, near the Severn, below Indian Landing. They saw me and shoved their boat off in a hurry, and went down river. The boy is with them. I've had a time finding a telephone in this forsaken country; keep a lookout for a green gasoline launch; it has a cabin in it—three kidnappers and Georgie Thompson were in the——" But the superintendent had heard enough and, ringing off the speaker, he commenced to do some rapid telephoning on his own account.
SIX-POUNDER TARGET PRACTICE
Graduation day drew near, bringing exultant happiness to Robert Drake. Not many more things could occur to him—the annual examinations were soon to be held, but these brought no terrors to Robert's mind. Most of the drills had been finished, and the first and second companies were now neck and neck in competition for the first place, with Blair's company slightly in the lead. The final standing now depended upon the records these respective companies made at target practice.
Annapolis was now in ribboned and brass-buttoned glory. Proudly the brigade of midshipmen marched each afternoon for dress parade, and on the walks viewing them was much fluttering loveliness. Then, after dismissal, came pleasant, even if short, strolls through the grounds, in and about the shady walks.
Robert was happy because of four years of hard work well done and well appreciated. He loved the place. Every tree on the grounds was an old friend, and every spot near and about old Annapolis called up pleasant memories.
The important things yet to occur were target practice, the first class german, graduation, and the great June ball.
Among the midshipmen there were a few, however, who were not happy at this time. Among them was Harry Blunt; in danger of failing in mathematics, disturbed by reproachful looks from his mother and sister and worried by severe letters from his father, he commenced to have an anxious appearance, and actually abandoned the gaieties that were now thrust into midshipman life in favor of much neglected books; the dreaded annual examinations were almost upon him.
Midshipman Bligh, though also in the same precarious position, seemed to lose some of the gloom he had been carrying about him and become more normal. He went into the city of Annapolis at every opportunity and always came back with a grateful heart; forBligh had found a friend who believed in him, and this friend had rescued Bligh from the pit of despondency and terrible sadness into which he had descended.
"Say, Bob," remarked Stonewell one day, "have you noticed that fellow Bligh of late?"
"I never happen to think of him. What about him?"
"Nothing much, except that I am constantly meeting him. He never seems to look at me, but whenever I go out in town nowadays he's pretty sure to be standing at the Maryland Avenue gate; and then later, half the time I go out I meet him somewhere. This has happened so often of late that I can't help but feel he's interested in where I go."
"Lots of people are interested in where you go, Stone; every day somebody asks me why you go out so much alone. For years we have gone out together, but now you never want me."
"It's not that," replied Stonewell hurriedly,—"I've had some personal matters come up that require my attention. Look here, that Bligh is going to bilge, isn't he?"
"He is practically certain to. He is low in every study—he'll have to make bigger marks in each of them than he ever yet has made to get satisfactory in the final average. But he may do it; people have pulled out of worse holes than he is in."
"What are you reading, Bob? You seem to be giving that newspaper a good deal of your attention to-day."
"I'm reading about the boy who was kidnapped in Baltimore several days ago. First it was thought the boy was lost, but now the police believe he was kidnapped; it says here that Mr. Thompson has received word his boy will be restored to him on payment of ten thousand dollars. By George! I hope they catch the kidnappers and send them to prison for life. That's an awful crime!"
"It is indeed; and just think, Baltimore is only thirty miles away. I've been reading about that Thompson boy and I do hope he will be sent back home. Well, Bob, are you all ready for your target practice? Do you really put faith in this new sight you have invented?"
"More so every day, Stone, particularlysince I've learned that practically the same sight as I have aboard the 'Nevada' has been put on many different guns throughout the navy. Anybody who sees it and works with it a little is bound to believe it is far better than the old sights. Those were simply miserable. I'm now fifteen or twenty points behind Blair, with only target practice yet to be heard from, and I'm sure to beat him. I'd beat him even if we should use the old sights. You see I have a really very well-drilled crew; they load rapidly. I'm wild to get into the practice; I've a flag at stake, you know. It will be settled before night. Hello, the bugle has busted. Let's get to formation."
On board the monitor "Nevada" they joined the other midshipmen, and soon she was under way and steaming through the buoyed channel to the free waters of Chesapeake Bay. The "Nevada" had on board the officers belonging to the Department of Ordnance and Gunnery and a number of midshipmen; there were also on board a six-pounder crew of five men from each of the twelve companies of midshipmen. In addition many midshipmen who had no duties but who were interested inseeing the target practice were allowed to be present. Soon a cry from aloft was heard.
"Sail ho!" cried the midshipman lookout on the "Nevada's" mast.
"Where away, can you make her out?" returned the midshipman officer-of-the-deck, hailing the lookout.
"Right ahead, sir, but I don't know what it is. It looks like a funny kind of a ship with six sails on it."
"Who made that ridiculous report?" inquired Commander Brice in great disgust. "If it were an ordinary seaman I'd disrate him to an afterguard sweeper. But I imagine it's a future admiral. The sail he's reported are the targets—there are six of them. Anybody but a midshipman would know it. They've been in sight ever since we left the Severn River."
The target was now seen by everybody and the "Nevada" steered for it. It was at the apex of an equilateral triangle each side of which was one thousand yards long. The word targets, rather than target, should have been used, because in this apex, for the purpose of expediting this practice, of finishingit in one afternoon, six targets on rafts had been placed. The tug "Standish" was anchored near by. She had brought a party of enlisted men, who had been working all morning, and had erected the marks.
Commander Shaw, the head of the Department of Ordnance and Gunnery, remained on the bridge with Commander Brice until the "Nevada" had cleared the channel. Then, as he descended the ladder leading from the bridge to the superstructure deck, he was met by an eager-faced midshipman, who cried to him:
"Captain Shaw, do you remember we were all encouraged by your instructors to make any improvements we could in the guns we were to drill with?"
"I do indeed, Mr. Drake," replied Commander Shaw, smiling with interest at Robert's eagerness. "What have you been doing?"
"I will show you, sir. Will you please come over to the starboard six-pounder gun?"
Robert stepped quickly to the starboard side, followed by the commander. He thenquickly unscrewed the regular gun sights, drew them out of the sockets, and threw them over to Chief Gunner's Mate Lenn. The latter handed Robert a long parcel wrapped in paper.
"Hello, Bob, what have you there, a new gun?" laughed Blair. "Say, fellows, let's see what Bob is up to." Everybody became interested and crowded about, and many were the laughing remarks made to Robert. But the latter, paying no attention to these, quickly stripped the paper from the parcel, and a long brass pipe was exposed to the curious eyes about him. On one end of the pipe was clamped a piece of metal which carried a circular ring, across which were attached, at right angles, thin silvery-white wires. At the other end of the pipe was attached a small brass cylinder, closed except for a minute hole through its centre. Near the cross wire end, hanging from the pipe, was a solid plug, cylindrical in section.
Robert worked rapidly. He slipped this plug into the recess left by the front sight, putting in several thin washers; at the rearend of the brass pipe was attached a condemned rear sight, one furnished by Lenn, and this naturally slipped into its place.
"By George, Mr. Drake," cried out Commander Shaw, "this is splendid. It's the Paul Jones' bar sight! She won this year's six-pounder record by that sight—I only yesterday received a drawing of it—how in the world did you get this up?"
"Several helped, sir, and Chief Gunner's Mate Lenn did all the work about it. May I use these sights, sir, on my target practice to-day?"
"Indeed you may, and all of the rest of the gun crews will. We've known for some time the old sights were very poor. I'm delighted, Mr. Drake."
Robert's face was radiant with happiness. His classmates crowded about him; everybody saw at a glance that Robert's sight was a decided improvement.
"I congratulate you, Bob," said Blair to him. "I guess you've got the flag and you deserve to have it; this is just fine. Captain Shaw," continued Blair, "I request permission to fire my shots with the old sights."
"Not granted, sir."
"But, captain, there is a special reason why I should, a big reason. You see, sir, Drake and I are fighting for the flag; this target practice will decide things; one of us is bound to win it; now he has got up this sight and it would certainly be unfair to him if I were to get the benefit of his good ideas and——"
"Captain Shaw," cried Robert, interrupting Blair, "if you think it's a good sight let's all fire with it, and give the Naval Academy a better record in target practice than last year; and if Blair can beat me out—then all the more credit to him, for I've had a lot of practice in aiming and loading. And, captain, I'd like to have each crew practice as much as they can find time for; I've had hours of it. It's very easy to go from the old sights to this; you just keep the gun pointed with your shoulder and arm so that the line through the peep-hole and intersection of cross wires prolonged will meet the object you want to hit. Here, Sam, you take the gun and get used to it."
"Bob, this is awfully white of you, and it's not fair to you."
"Gentlemen, you'll all fire with this new sight of Mr. Drake's," announced Commander Shaw, decisively.
"Bob, I'm going to do my best, of course, but you ought to win; if I should happen to get credited for the most hits I couldn't feel I deserved to beat you."
"Don't you worry, Sam," chuckled Robert; "I've been practicing with that sight for some months. If you can win you've a right to."
Robert was radiantly happy; this public recognition of his having done something worth while filled him with joy. And at the same time he was completely confident that he would make the best record during the day. He was really desirous of having everybody who fired use the sight he had installed, because he expected to win anyway. He knew in his heart that with all the special drill he had had he was practically certain to make the highest score in target practice, no matter which sight was used, and he felt he would really have more credit if all who fired used the same sights.
"Now, gentlemen, each pointer will have a chance to practice with Mr. Drake's bar sightbefore he fires," announced Commander Shaw. "Mr. Drake, you will fire first. Are you bore sighted?"
"Yes, sir, everything is ready, but I'd like to fire a trial shot."
"Very well. We'll steam to the range and give you a trial shot, and then Mr. Blair may practice aiming. Then we'll go on the range and you will commence, and when you finish the second company's gun crew will commence; as soon as they finish, and while turning the ship around for the return run, the pointers of the third and fourth crews will practice with the sight. We'll fire two pointers on a run and practice two on the return, so after six double runs we will have fired at the six targets; then a boat from the 'Standish' will patch up the targets, and after that we'll fire the other six gun crews; we ought to finish before five o'clock. Have you your range cards ready, and a stop-watch?"
"Yes, sir."
"All right." Then to Commander Brice on the bridge: "Are you making ten knots, captain?"
"Yes, sir, just exactly ten knots."
"Take your trial shot just after we pass the first buoy, Mr Drake."
"Yes, sir; I'm ready, sir."
The "Nevada" was now rapidly approaching the range, which was marked by three buoys in line, this line forming the base of the triangle, of which the targets were in the apex. The "Nevada" was to travel just outside of the line while the six-pounder was being fired.
"What yacht is that?" asked Commander Shaw of Commander Brice, indicating a yacht that had evidently just come from Annapolis.
"That's the 'Robert Centre,'"replied Commander Brice, after looking at her through his glasses.
"I think she has come out to see the target practice, and I'll wager a ship's biscuit that a party of midshipmen with some girl friends are on board," he continued, with a laugh.
"Just look at the way sail is crowded on her. Jerusalem! the fellow who is running that yacht has a lot of nerve; he's got every rag stretched that's aboard."
The "Robert Centre" was a yacht that some years previous had been presented to theNaval Academy, and in leisure hours midshipmen were allowed to sail her in Chesapeake Bay. She was coming out under a great press of canvas with a fresh, spanking breeze on her port quarter.
"I'll blow the ship's steam whistle when the first buoy is abeam of the mast," called out Commander Shaw. "Mr. Drake, take your trial shot as soon after as you please."
"Aye, aye, sir."
In a moment there was a strident blast from the steam whistle and immediately after: "Bang!" went the six-pounder.
Many midshipmen, not prepared for the deafening report, jumped violently.
"A bull's-eye," cried out Commander Shaw in delight. "Mr. Drake, your sight is all right, and the powder is all right. Captain Brice, I'd like to go back and commence over again. Mr. Drake, let Mr. Blair practice sighting the gun. You'll find, Mr. Blair, that the new sights are easier to shoot with. Mr. Drake, I'm delighted; that was a bully good shot."
Again the "Nevada" steamed toward the range.
"Now, fellows," said Robert, "put cotton inyour ears and don't mind about the noise; get the gun loaded as soon as I fire; and, Glass, be sure you throw the shell in home; the only chance of a poor score is a jammed cartridge."
The "Nevada" rapidly approached the first buoy. An intense, breathless silence, an air of solemnity, pervaded the ship. Standing like statues grouped about the six-pounder gun that was about to fire, were Robert and his crew, with grim determination written on every face.
"After the whistle blows commence firing immediately," ordered Commander Shaw. "I'll time you with a stop-watch; you will fire for just a minute; jump back the instant I tap you on the arm like this. Mr. Blair, have your crew ready to jump to the gun just when I signal to Mr. Drake to cease."
"Aye, aye, sir," came the replies in unison from both Robert and Blair.
When the whistle blew, there came a novel sensation to those on board who had never before seen a navy target practice.
A sheet of white flame burst from the muzzle of the six-pounder, a thunderous,reverberating report assaulted the ears of everybody, and hardly had this been experienced when the same thing was repeated, over and over again. The grim statues at the gun had burst into reckless life. At the first shot, the recoil of the gun had thrown down the breech-block and so had opened the gun, ejecting the used cartridge case. The gun was ready for loading, and Glassfell lost no time. Hardly had the empty cartridge case been ejected than into the chamber he threw a fresh shell. A spring was automatically released, throwing the breech-block into place, and the gun was ready for firing. Almost instantly it was discharged, for Robert never allowed the sights to leave the target.
And so a thunderous bang! bang! bang! was kept up from the gun.
Commander Brice, on top of the pilot house, with his glasses leveled on the target, was in an ecstasy of delight.
"A bull's-eye," he cried, "another bull's-eye, a beautiful shot, wonderful shooting."
While this was going on, a wild-eyed enlisted man, scantily clad in working trousers and undershirt, and evidently under intenseexcitement, came tumbling up on the superstructure deck, screaming, "Captain, captain."
He ran into half a dozen midshipmen, fell down twice, reached the ladder leading to the pilot house top, still continuing his wild cry of "Captain." He bumped into Captain Brice, and when the latter turned angrily around to him, he thrust a paper into the captain's hands.
Commander Brice read the paper, and then in a stentorian voice cried out: "Cease firing."
At the same instant Commander Shaw touched Robert on the shoulder and called "time."
"Cease firing," repeated Commander Brice. "Keep Mr. Drake and his crew at the gun! Hard a starboard the helm! Call away the life-boat. Gunner's mate, get up twelve rifles and rifle ammunition, double time! Captain Shaw, detail Lieutenant Joynes to take charge of the life-boat; have two midshipmen crews, armed with rifles, prepared to go in the life-boat when it is lowered. Ease the helm, amidships with it—steady so."
Many pairs of surprised eyes were uponCommander Brice. With glasses up to his eyes, he was now looking at a yacht on the starboard bow, recognized by everybody to be the "Robert Centre" which, some distance away, was careening far to one side and was bowling along at a furious speed.
"Mr. Drake!" called out Commander Brice.
"Sir?"
"Do you see the 'Robert Centre'?"
"Yes, sir."
"Drop a shell under her bows. Don't hit her. The range is about fifteen hundred yards."
A GOOD SHOT WITH THE SIX-POUNDER
"Bang," went the six-pounder, and four seconds later a heavy column of water rose up under the bow of the "Robert Centre," three quarters of a mile away.
"Well placed," called out Commander Brice, as he saw the shot fall. "What," he exclaimed a moment later, "the rascal won't heave to! Split the mast, Mr. Drake, six feet above the deck."
Hardly had he given the order when Robert again fired.
"Five feet to the right; aim a little to the left of the mast."
Again a sheet of flame leaped from the six-pounder's mouth, again the thunderous reverberating report, dying out in far-away echoes, rolled from the gun.
Except for Commander Brice's orders, the noise of the gun, and the now painfully loudthrobbing of the engines, an intense stillness prevailed on the "Nevada's" deck. Thoroughly accustomed to navy ways, not a soul on board thought of questioning the captain's reason for injuring the graceful yacht, which had seen many pleasant sailing parties of midshipmen and their friends. All eyes were on the yacht; a few seconds after Robert's last shot the tall raking mast was seen suddenly to snap off close to the deck. Down went the mast over the side into the water, carrying with it every sail; and the yacht a minute before so full of life and spirit, so swiftly plunging through the water, now rolled helplessly, inert and lifeless.
"A beautiful shot, Mr. Drake," cried Commander Brice, delightedly. "Mr. Joynes, as soon as we are near that yacht I'll slow down and stop and you lower the life-boat; get your armed crew aboard, and row over to the 'Robert Centre'! Take three men and a small boy from her—and let go the yacht's anchor; we'll let the 'Standish' tow her in after target practice."
"What is it, Brice?" asked Commander Shaw, who had gone up on top of the pilot house.
"Read this wireless message from the superintendent. It's evident that the kidnappers of Georgie Thompson stole the 'Robert Centre' and now are on board with the boy. By Jingo! Mr. Drake did some fine shooting. Between wireless telegraphy and good shooting villainy isn't profitable these days."
Before long three silent, gloomy men and a small boy were brought on board. Two of the men were on the verge of collapse; new life had come to little Georgie, who wondered what it was all about.
"Master-at-arms, put these men in a cell and place a guard over them. Where is the wireless operator? Oh—send this message immediately. Look here, my little man, is your name Georgie Thompson?"
"Yes, sir. Where is my papa? Is he here? What were those awful noises, Mister? May I have a piece of bread and butter? I'm awfully hungry. Where is my papa?"
"Steward, take Georgie to my cabin and keep him there, and get him something to eat, right away. Full speed, both engines, hard aport the helm. Now we'll run backby the buoys again. Take charge, Shaw, and fire as you will."
Before long Blair's crew fired at its target, and in quick succession the remaining four targets were fired at, and then the "Nevada" ran up to the targets to count the shot holes in them and the "Standish" went up to repair them.
Never did Robert Drake have a more exultant feeling than when he saw the holes his shots had torn through the canvas. He had fired twenty-two times in his minute, and there were nineteen gaping holes in his target. Blair had fired sixteen times and had made thirteen hits. Robert now knew the flag was his and he was glad indeed. Six more crews were to fire, but he knew in his heart that none could hope to equal his record, because none had had the practice his crew had had.
Nothing could have exceeded the cordial congratulations of his closest rival, Blair.
"You've beaten me out, Bob, but, by George, you deserve to. I'm not ashamed of my score; thirteen hits is not a bad record—but what luck you have had—what a wonderful bull's-eye you made when you knocked downthe 'Robert Centre's' mast; you deserve the flag, Bob! There's no doubt of that fact; you've won it, and by no fluke."
The targets were soon patched up, and the remaining six gun crews fired their shots. On the whole the target practice was very good and the midshipmen and the ordnance officers present were jubilant.
The "Nevada" returned to her wharf at six o'clock, and found a great crowd waiting for her. Present was a middle-aged gentleman, Mr. Thompson, who had come down from Baltimore on a special train; he was full of emotion and feeling, and wild with eagerness to see once more the dear little boy who had been so rudely torn from him.
Among the crowd were police officers, sailormen, and a company of marines. The transfer of the three miscreants to the police did not take long. Outside of the Naval Academy gate a howling, derisive mob of whites and blacks had gathered and they jeered the miserable criminals as they were taken through the streets to the railroad station.
Language was not powerful enough for Mr.Thompson to express his gratitude. "What can I do for you, sir?" he asked of Commander Brice. "I had determined to give the kidnappers the ten thousand dollars they demanded; could I—may I——"
"Your train doesn't leave for a couple of hours, Mr. Thompson; suppose you take dinner with me—and of course you know how glad we all are your boy is restored to you. But I'm going to introduce to you the midshipman who knocked the mast out of the yacht, the bulliest shot I've ever seen. Come here, Mr. Drake; this is Georgie's father."
"What can I do for you, Mr. Drake?" eagerly asked the happy man. "Please say something—do let me do something for you."
Robert thought a moment, and then said: "Why, sir, I'm going to graduate in less than three weeks; won't you come to my graduation, sir? I'd be so glad if you would."
Mr. Thompson looked reproachfully at them both. "Well, all I can say is, you are all gentlemen, every one of you!" Tears stood in his eyes as he said this, and he couldn't have said anything that would have touchedand pleased officers and midshipmen more deeply.
This affair redounded to the credit of the Naval Academy. The superintendent had acted quickly, Captain Brice had acted with judgment, and midshipmen could hit when they shot. This was the boiled-down newspaper comment.
"How did you feel, Bob, when you shot at the 'Robert Centre's' mast?" asked Stonewell later.
"Feel? Why, I didn't feel at all, beyond an intention to hit the mast."
"But wasn't there an idea in your mind that you might hurt somebody?"
"You see, Stone," said Robert, "at that moment Captain Brice's will dominated my action; I was a machine, an automaton. I was completely controlled by him. Now when we talk this over in cold blood it seems terrible, but I suppose that in a case like that a man loses all personal feeling—he is under a peculiar power. I imagine this is human nature and accounts for a lot of things. In our case it results no doubt from the military training we have received here these last fouryears. Now when we get an order from the commandant or officer-in-charge we just naturally obey it."
"I think you're right, Bob. Well, old chap, you are graduating with flying colors. I'd rather have aimed the shot that took down the 'Robert Centre's' mast than have done any other thing that has happened since I became a midshipman. You've won the flag, that was your great ambition; and you are graduating number five or six. But everybody here isn't as happy as you and I are, Bob. I'm quite concerned over Harry Blunt; he stands in some danger of bilging; not a great deal, but it is possible."
Robert stiffened immediately. "Since when have you taken up with that rascal, Stone?"
"Look here, you've no right to call him a rascal. You've Frenched yourself; so have I, so have Blair and Farnum."
"Since when have you taken up with him, Stone?" persisted Robert.
"I haven't taken up with him; I hardly ever have occasion to speak with him. But I think a lot of Helen and his father andmother. You do too; you don't want to see him bilge, do you?"
"For the sake of his father and mother and sister, no. Let's talk of something else. This is Friday; the annual examinations commence on Monday. They will soon be over and we graduate in two weeks. I'll hate to leave this place, Stone; I've had such a happy year."
"It has been fine, indeed. Well, Bob, we'll be back here as instructors some day. Perhaps one of us may be officer-in-charge. By the way, I'm going to say good-bye to you for a couple of days. I've leave to go to Washington. I'm going to take the five o'clock train to-night and I'll be back Sunday morning at about ten o'clock."
Robert looked at his roommate with unconcealed amazement.
"Well, Stone, you'll excuse my being astonished. But for an intimate chum you are the most remarkably secretive, non-communicative, open-hearted fellow that ever lived. Why, to go to Washington is an event for a midshipman. Were I going to Washington, everybody in my class would know ofit. But it's just in line with your lonely trips out to Conduit Street. Now, Stone, I'm intensely interested, you know that; and I'm not going to ask any questions; but if you can tell me why you are going, what you are going to do, I do wish you would."