It was a most critical moment in the life histories of several young men who had grown to consider themselves as future officers in the United States Navy!
Such a man as Midshipman Bender was certain to report any form of hazing he detected.
Now, the usual punishment meted out to hazers at either Annapolis orWest Point is dismissal from the service!
True, this was not brutal hazing, but merely the light form of the sport known as "running" the new man.
Nevertheless, "all hazing looks alike" to the public, when posted by the newspapers, and the Naval Academy authorities deal severely with even "running."
So, for all of the "youngsters," or third class men, who had been conducting the evening's festivities, all the elements of trouble, and perhaps of dismissal, were at hand.
But Dave Darrin had been the first to hear the soft approach of footsteps, and somehow, he had guessed at the meaning of it all.
Just in the fraction of a second before the knock had sounded at the door Dave had made a fine handspring that brought him from his topsy-turvy attitude to a position of standing on his feet. And, at the same time, he held the washbowl in his hand without having spilled a drop of the water. Like a flash Dave few across the room, depositing the bowl where it belonged. With a towel he wiped his hair, then swiftly mopped his face dry. Hair brush and comb in hand, he turned, saving:
"Why, I suppose, gentlemen, Dalzell and myself were very fair athletes in the High School sense of the word. But it's a long jump from that to aspiring to the Navy football team. Of course we'll turn out for practice, if you wish, but—"
At this moment, Lieutenant Bender, the "duty-crazy" one, thrust the door open.
Here Dave, on his way to the mirror, hairbrush and comb in hand, halted as though for the first time aware of the accusing presence of Bender, midshipman in charge of the floor for the day.
"Uh-hum!" choked Midshipman Bender more confused, even, than he had expected the others to be.
"Looks like rather good material, doesn't he, Bender?" inquiredMr. Trotter. "Green, of course, and yet—"
"I didn't come here to discuss Navy athletics," replied MidshipmanBender.
"Oh, an official visit—is that it?" asked shipman Hayes, favoring the official visitor with a baby-stare. "As it is past graduation, and there are no evening study hours, there is no regulation against visiting in the rooms of other members of the brigade."
"No," snapped Mr. Bender, "there is not."
Saying this the midshipman in charge turned on his heel and left the room.
An instant after the door had closed the lately scared youngsters expressed themselves by a broad grin, which deepened to a very decided chuckle as Mr. Bender's footsteps died away.
"Mister," cried Midshipman Trotter, favoring Darrin with a glance of frank friendliness, "do you know that you saved us from frapping the pap hard?"
"And that perhaps you've saved us from bilging?" added MidshipmanHayes.
"I'm such a greenhorn about the Navy, sir, that I am afraid I don't follow you in the least, sir," Darrin replied quietly.
Then they explained to him that the "pap" is the conduct report, and that "to frap" is to hit. To "frap the pap" means to "get stuck on" the conduct report for a breach of discipline. A "bilger" is one who is dropped from the service, or who is turned back to the class below.
"I judged that there was some trouble coming sir," Dave confessed, "and I did the best that I could. It was good luck on my part that I was able to be of service to you."
"Good luck, eh?" retorted Midshipman Trotter. "Third class men, fall in!"
As the "youngsters" lined up Mr. Trotter, standing at the right of the line, asked coaxingly:
"Mister, will you be condescending enough to pass down the line and shake hands with each of us?"
Flushing modestly, but grinning, Dave did as asked—or directed.
"Mister," continued Midshipman Trotter impressively, "we find ourselves very close to being 'spoons on' you."
For a youngster to be "spoons on" a new fourth classman means for the former to treat the latter very nearly as though he were a human being.
"Now, you green dandelions may go," suggested Mr. Trotter, turning to the four "visiting" plebes.
As soon as this had come about Trotter turned to Dave Darrin.
"Mister, we humble representatives of the third class are going to show you the only sign of appreciation within our power. We are going to invite you to stroll down the deck and visit us in our steerage. Your roommate is invited to join us."
Dave and Dan promptly accepted, with becoming appreciation. All of the youngsters escorted Dave and Dan down the corridor to Midshipman Trotter's room.
In the course of the next hour the youngsters told these new midshipmen much about the life at the Naval Academy that it would otherwise have taken the two plebes long to have found out for themselves.
They were initiated into much of the slang language that the older midshipmen use when conversing together. Many somewhat obscure points in the regulations were made clear to them.
Lest the reader may wonder why new fourth class men should tamely submit to hazing or "running," when the regulations of the Naval Academy expressly prohibit these upper class sports, it may be explained that the midshipmen of the brigade have their own internal discipline.
A new man may very easily evade being hazed, if he insists upon it.
His first refusals will be met with challenges to fight. If he continues to refuse to be "hazed" or "run," he will soon find himself ostracized by all of the upper class men. Then his own classmates will have to "cut" him, or they, too, will be "cut." The man who is "cut" may usually as well resign from the Naval Academy at once. His continued stay there will become impossible when no other midshipman will recognize him except in discharge of official duties.
The new man at Annapolis, if he has any sense at all, will quietly and cheerfully submit to being "run." This fate falls upon every new fourth class man, or nearly so. The only fourth class man who escapes bring "run" is the one who is considered as being beneath notice. Unhappy, indeed, is the plebe whom none of the youngsters above him will consent to haze. And frequent it happens that the most popular man in an upper class is one who, while in the fourth class, was the most unmercifully hazed.
Often a new man at the Naval Academy arrives with a firm resolution to resist all attempts at running or hazing. He considers himself as good as any of the upper class men, and is going to insist on uniformly good treatment from the upper class men.
If this be the new man's frame of mind he is set down as being "ratey."
But often the new man arrives with a conviction that he will have to submit to a certain amount of good-natured hazing by his class elders. Yet this man, from having been spoiled more or less at home, is "fresh." In this case he is called only "touge."
Hence it is a far more hopeful sign to be "touge" than to be "ratey."
The new man who honestly tries to be neither "touge" nor "ratey," and who has a sensible resolve to submit to tradition, is sometimes termed "almost sea-going."
Dave Darrin was promptly recognized as being "almost sea-going."He would need but little running.
Dan Dalzell, on the other hand, was soon listed as being "touge," though not "ratey."
Within the nest few days several things happened that were of importance to the new fourth class men.
Other candidates arrived, passed the surgeons, and were sworn intoNaval service.
Many of the young men who had passed the surgeons, and who had gone through the dreary, searching ordeals over in grim old Academic Hall, had now become members of the new fourth class.
As organized, the new fourth class started off with two hundred and twenty-four members—numerically a very respectable battalion.
At the outset, while supplied only with midshipmen's caps, and while awaiting the "building" of their uniforms, these new midshipmen were drilled by some of the members of the upper classes.
This state of affairs, however, lasted but very briefly. Graduation being past, the members of the three upper classes were rather promptly embarked on three of the most modern battleships of the Navy and sent to sea for the summer practice cruise.
The night before embarkation Midshipman Trotter looked in briefly upon Dave Darrin and his roommate.
"Well, mister," announced the youngster, with a paternal smile, "somehow you'll have to get on through the rest of the summer without us."
"It will be a time of slow learning for us, sir," responded Darrin, rising.
"Your summer will henceforth be restful, if not exactly instructive," smiled Trotter. "In the absence of personal guidance, mister, strive as far as you can to reach the goal of being sea going."
"I'll try, sir."
"You won't have such hard work as your roommate," went on Trotter, favoring Dalzell with a sidelong look. "And, now, one parting bit of advice, mister. Keep it at all times in mind that you must keep away from demoralizing association with the forty per cent."
Statistics show that about forty per cent of the men who enter the U.S. Naval Academy fail to get through, and are sent back into civil life. Hence the joy of keeping with the winning "sixty."
The next morning the members of the three upper classes had embarked aboard the three big battleships that lay at anchor in the Severn. It was not until two days afterwards that the battleships sailed, but the upper class men did not come ashore in the interval.
Soon after the delivery of uniforms to the new fourth class men began and continued rapidly.
Dave and Dan, having been among the first to have their measure taken, were among the earliest to receive their new Naval clothing.
A tremendously proud day it was for each new midshipman when he first surveyed himself, in uniform, in the mirror!
The regular summer course was now on in earnest for the new men.
On Mondays those belonging to the first and second divisions marched down to the seamanship building, there to get their first lessons in seamanship. This began at eight o'clock, lasting until 9.30. During the same period the men who belonged to the third and fourth divisions received instruction in discipline and ordnance. In the second period, from 10 to 11.30 the members of the first and second division attended instruction in discipline and ordnance while the members of the third and fourth divisions attended seamanship.
In the afternoon, from 3 to 4.45, the halves of the class alternated between seamanship and marine engineering.
All instruction proceeded with a rapidity that made the heads of most of these new midshipmen whirl! From 5 to 6 on the same afternoon the entire fourth class attended instruction in the art of swimming—and no midshipman hope to graduate unless he is a fairly expert swimmer!
Wednesday and Saturday afternoons were devoted to athletics and recreation.
A midshipman does not have his evenings for leisure. On the first five evenings of each week, while one half of the class went to the gymnasium, the other half indulged in singing drill in Recreation Hall.
"What's the idea of making operatic stars out of us?" grumbledDan to his roommate on day.
"You always seem to get the wrong impression about everything, Danny boy," retorted Darrin, turning to his roommate with a quizzical smile. "The singing drill isn't given with a view to fitting you to sing in opera."
"What, then?" insisted Dan.
"You are learning to sing, my dear boy, so that, later on, you will be able to deliver your orders from a battleship's bridge in an agreeable voice."
"If my voice on the bridge is anything like the voice I develop in Recreation Hall," grimaced Dalzell, "it'll start a mutiny right then and there."
"Then you don't expect sailors of the Navy to stand for the kind of voice that is being developed in you in Recreation Hall?" laughed Darrin.
"Sailors are only human," grumbled Dalzell.
The rowing work, in the big ten-oared cutters proved one of the most interesting features of the busy summer life of the new men.
More than half of these fourth class midshipmen had been accustomed to rowing boats at home. The work at Annapolis, however, they found to be vastly different.
The cutter is a fearfully heavy boat. The long Naval oar is surprisingly full of avoirdupois weight. True, a midshipman has to handle but one oar, but it takes him many, many days to learn how to do that properly.
Yet, as August came and wore along, the midshipmen found themselves becoming decidedly skilful in the work of handling the heavy cutters, and in handling boats under sail.
Competitive work and racing were encouraged by the Navy officers who had charge of this instruction.
Each boat was under the direct command of a midshipman who served as crew captain, with thirteen other midshipmen under him as crew.
When the post of crew captain fell to Dan Dalzell he embarked his crew, gave the order to shove off and let fall oars, and got away in good style.
Then, leaning indolently back Dan grinned luxuriously.
"This is the post I'm cut out for," he murmured, so that stroke-oar heard him and grinned.
Yet, as "evil communications corrupt good manners," Dan's attitude was reflected in his crew of classmates. The cutter was manned badly at that moment.
"Mr. Dalzell!" rasped out the voice of Lieutenant Fenton, the instructor, from a near-by boat.
Dan straightened up as though shot. But the Navy officer's voice continued sternly:
"Sit up in a more seamanlike manner. Pay close attention to the work of your boat crew. Be alert for the best performance of duty in the boat that you command. For your inattention, and worse, of a moment ago, Mr. Dalzell, you will put yourself on the conduct report."
The next morning, at breakfast formation, Dan's name was read from the "pap." He had been given five demerits. This was below the gravity of his offense, but he had been let off lightly the first time.
"You've got to stick to duty, and keep it always in mind," Darrin admonished his chum. "I don't intend to turn preachy, Dan; but you'll surely discover that the man who lets his indolence or sense of fun get away with him is much better off out of the Naval Academy."
"Pooh! A lot of the fellows have frapped the pap," retorted Dalzell. "Demerits don't do any harm, unless you get enough of 'em to cause you to be dropped."
"Well, if there is no higher consideration," argued Dave, "at least you must remember that the number of demerits fixes your conduct grade. If you want such liberties and privileges as are allowed to new midshipmen, you'll have to keep your name away from the pap."
"Humph! Setting your course toward the grease mark are you?" jeered Dan.
"Think it over!" urged Dave Darrin patiently.
Before August was over the new fourth class men marched "like veterans." They had mastered all the work of drill, marching and parade, and felt that they could hold their own in the brigade when the upper class men returned.
On the 28th of August the three big battleships were sighted coming up the bay in squadron formation. A little more than an hour later they rode at anchor.
It was not, however, until the 30th of August that the upper classmen were disembarked.
August 31 was devoted to manifold duties, including the hurried packing of light baggage, for now the members of the three upper classes were to enjoy a month's leave of absence before the beginning of the academic year on October 1.
Then, like a whirlwind mob, and clad in their "cit." clothes, the upper class men got away on that hurried, frenzied leave.
There was no leave, however, for the new midshipmen.
In lieu of leave, through the month of September, the new fourth class men spent the time, each week-day, from ten o'clock until noon, at the "Dago Department," as the Department of Modern Languages is termed.
Here they made their start in French.
"When Trotter comes back," muttered Dan, "if he asks me whetherI can talk French, I'll tell him that I've tried, and now I knowI can't."
It was the last night before the upper classmen were due back from their leave.
Dave and Dan were in their room, poring hard over French, when a light tap sounded on the door.
Right on top of the tap Midshipman Farley, fourth class, entered on tiptoe, closing the door behind him.
This accomplished, Farley dropped his air of stealth, strolling over to the study desk.
"There's a nice little place in town—you know, Purdy's," beganFarley significantly.
"I've heard of it as an eating place," responded Darrin.
"It's more than that," returned Farley, smacking his lips. "It's an ideal place for a banquet."
"I accept your word for it," smiled Dave.
"I don't ask you to, Darrin," grinned Farley. "Like any honest man I'm prepared to prove all I say. Purdy has received—by underground telegraph—orders to prepare a swell feast for eight. It's to be ready at eleven tonight. We had the eight all made up, but two fellows have flunked cold. We're to French it over the wall tonight, leaving here a few minutes after taps. Are you on?"
Farley's enthusiastic look fell upon the face of Dalzell.
"I'm on!" nodded Dan
"No; you're not" broke in Dave quietly.
"I'm afraid I must disagree with you, little David," murmured Dan.
"Oysters, clams, fish—watermelon!" tempted Midshipman Farley.
"Um-yum!" grunted Dan, his eyes rolling.
"Then you're with us, Dalzell?" insisted Farley.
"Well, rather—"
"—not!" interjected Dave Darrin with emphasis.
"Now, what are you butting in for, you greasy greaser?" demanded Farley, giving Dave a contemptuous glance. "Maybe you won't join us, and maybe we'd just as soon not have as greasy a midshipman as you at the festive board, but Dalzell isn't tied to your apron strings, are you, Dalzell?"
"No; he's not," replied Darrin, speaking for his chum. "Dalzell will speak for himself, if he insists. But he and I have been chums these many years, and we've often given each other good advice in trying or tempting times. Dalzell will go with you, if he cares to, for he already knows all that I have to say on the subject."
"You've had your nose stuck down deep in the grease-pot ever since you struck Annapolis!" cried Farley angrily. "I hope you bilge, Darrin; with all my heart I hope you bilge soon. We don't need a mollycoddle like you here in the Naval Academy!"
"Isn't that about all you want to say?" demanded Dave, looking up with a frown.
"No; it's not half what I have to say," cried Farley hotly. "Darrin, your kind of fellow is a disgrace to the Naval service! You're a sneak—that's what—"
"You may stop, right there!" frowned Darrin, rising from his chair.
"I'll stop when I'm proper ready!" retorted Farley hotly.
"If you don't stop right now, you'll finish while engaged in landing on your ear in the hall outside!" warned Dave, stepping forward.
There was a new look in Darrin's usually patient eyes. It was a look Farley hadn't seen there before, and it warned the hot-headed midshipman that he was in danger of going too far.
"Oh, fudge on you, Darrin!" jeered Farley, turning on his heel."Going to be with us, Dalzell?
"No," replied Dan promptly. "I never travel with the enemies of my friends."
"Greasers, both of you!" flung back the caller, and left them.
"If that fellow had talked an hour longer I believe I might havelost my patience," smiled Darrin, as he turned back to his desk."But I'm glad you're not with that outfit tonight Danny boy.It may turn out a big scrape."
"Why should it turn out a big scrape." demanded Dan.
"Oh, you never can tell," replied Darrin, as he picked up his book.
Farley did not succeed in getting two more midshipmen to join in the Frenching. Twenty minutes after taps, however, the original six of the fourth class slipped out of Bancroft Hall.
Slyly they made their way to where they had a board hidden near the wall of the Academy grounds.
One at a time, and swiftly, they went up this board, and over the wall.
At Purdy's they found a meal to tempt the most whimsical appetite.The meal over they spent much time in singing and story-telling.
It was nearly two in the morning when Farley and his fellow feasters tried to get back into the grounds, over the wall.
They got over the wall, all right, but only to fall into the hands of one of the watchmen, who seemed to have known exactly where to expect their return.
All six were reported to the officer in charge. At breakfast formation Midshipmen Farley, Oates, Scully, Brimmer, Henkel and Page were assigned fifty demerits each for unauthorized absence during the night.
Farley and his friends were furious. More, they were talkative.
Had Dave Darrin been less occupied that day he would have noted that many of his classmates avoided him.
Dan did notice, and wondered, without speaking of the matter.
That day all the upper class men returned, and Bancroft Hall hummed for a while with the bustle of the returning hundreds.
Just before the dinner formation Youngster Trotter encounteredDave in the corridor.
"Hullo, mister!" was Trotter's greeting, and the youngster actually held out his hand.
"I hope you had a mighty pleasant leave, sir," replied Dave, returning the handclasp.
"Passably pleasant, passably, mister," returned Midshipman Trotter."But see here, mister, what's this about you and your class thatI've heard?
"Nothing, so far as I know, sir," replied Dave, scanning the youngster's face closely.
"It must be more than nothing," returned Trotter. "I understand that more than half of your class are furious with you over something that happened last night. I've heard you called a sneak, mister, though I don't believe that for a single minute. But I've heard mutterings to the effect that your class will send you to coventry for excessive zeal in greasing, to the detriment of your classmates. What about it all, mister?"
Dave Darrin gazed at the youngster with eyes full of wonder.
"What about it?" repeated Dave. "That's the very thing I'd like to know, sir, for this is the very first word I've heard of it."
Nor could Midshipman Trotter doubt that Dave Darrin had answered in all sincerity.
"Well, you certainly must be innocent, mister, if you're as puzzled as all this," replied the youngster. "Then it must be that malicious mischief is brewing against you in some quarter. Take my advice, mister, and find out what it all means."
"Thank you. I most certainly will, sir," replied Dave, his eyes flashing.
Dalzell looked up wonderingly as Darrin marched swiftly into their room.
"Danny boy, have you heard any talk against me today?" demandedDave.
"Do I look as though I had been fighting?" queried Dan promptly.
"I've just heard, from Trotter, that a good many of the fellows in our class are scorching me, and talking of sending me to coventry. Will you—"
"I sure will," broke in Dan, dropping his book, rising and snatching at his cap. "I'll be back as soon as I've heard something, or have settled with the fellow who says it."
Dan was out of the room like a flash.
Dave sat down heavily in his chair, his brow wrinkling as he tried to imagine what it all meant.
"It must all be a mistake that Trotter has made," argued Dave with himself. "Of course, Trotter might be stringing me, but I don't believe he would do that. Now, to be sure, I came near to having words with Farley last night, but that wouldn't be the basis for any action by the fourth class. That, if anything, would be wholly a personal matter. Then what am I accused of doing? It must be some fierce sort of lie when the fellows talk of taking it up as a class matter."
For ten minutes more Dave puzzled and pondered over the problem.Then the door flew open and Dan bolted hastily in.
"You haven't been hitting anyone have you? asked Dave, noticing the flushed, angry face of his chum.
"No! But one of us will have to do some hitting soon," burst hotly from Dalzell.
"It'll be my hit, then, I guess," smiled Dave wearily. "Have you found out—"
"Dave it's the most absurd sort of lie! You know that Farley and his little crowd got caught last night, when they returned from their Frenching party over the wall?"
"Frenching" is taking unauthorized leave from the academic limits by going over the wall, instead of through the gate.
"Yes; I know Farley and his friends got caught," rejoined Darrin."But what has that to do with me?
"Farley and his friends are sore—"
"They ought not to be," said Darrin quietly. "They took the chance, and now they ought to be ready to pay up like good sportsmen."
"Dave,they say you informed on them, and got them caught!"
"What?" shouted Darrin, leaping to his feet. His face was deathly white and the corners of his mouth twitched.
He took two bounding steps toward the door, but Dalzell threw himself in his chum's way.
"Not just this minute, Dave!" ordered Dan firmly. "We don't want any manslaughter here—not even of the 'justifiable' kind! Sit and wait until you've cooled off—some. When you go out I'm going with you—whether it's out into the corridor, or out of the Naval Academy for good. Sit down, now! Try to talk it over coolly, and get yourself into a frame of mind where you can talk with others without prejudicing your case."
"My case?" repeated Dave bitterly, as he allowed Dan to force him back into his chair. "I haven't any case. I haven't done anything."
"I know that, but you've got to get cool, and stay so, if you want to make sure that others have a chance to know it," warned Dan.
"Does Farley say that I sneaked in information against him?"
"Farley and the others are so sore over their demerits that they believe almost anything, now, and they say almost anything. Of course, Farley remembers the row he had with you last night. In a fool way he puts two and two together, an decides that you helped set the trap for them."
"If I had done a dirty thing like that, then I'd deserve to be cut by the whole brigade," retorted Dave, his face flushing.
"But I want to tell you, right now, Dave, that some of the fellows of our class know you too well to believe any such thing against you."
"I'm properly grateful to the few, then," retorted Darrin, his eyes softening a trifle. "But come along, Dan, if you will. I mean to start in at once to sift this thing down."
"Let me look at you," ordered Dalzell, grappling with his chum, and looking him over.
Then, a moment later, Dan added:
"Yes; you're cool enough, I think. I'll go with you. But remember that the easiest way to destroy yourself is to let your temper get on top. If anybody is to get mad before the crowd, let me do it. Then you can restrain me if I get too violent."
Dave Darrin took his uniform cap down from the nail and put it on with great deliberation. Next, he picked up his whisk broom, flecking off two or three imaginary specks of dust.
"Now, I guess we can go along, Danny boy," he remarked, in a tone of ominous quietness.
"Where are you headed?" murmured Dalzell, as they reached the room door.
"To Farley's room," answered Dave Darrin coolly. "Do you suppose he's there?"
"He was, a few moments ago" Dan answered.
"Then let us hope he is now."
Carrying himself with his most erect and military air, Darrin stepped down the corridor, Dalzell keeping exactly at his side.
The chums arrived before the door of the room in which Farley was lodged.
Dave raised his hand, sounding a light knock on the door, which he next pushed open.
Farley and a dozen other members of the fourth class were in the room. Moreover, it was evident instantly that some of those present were discussing the burning class issue.
"But are you sure he did it? Farley?" one midshipman inquired, as the chums entered.
"Sure?" repeated Farley. "Of course I am! Didn't I tell you what a hot row we had. Darrin—"
"I'm here to speak for myself, Farley," boomed in the quiet, steady voice of Dave Darrin. "But I'll hear you first, if you wish."
"Oh, you're here, are you?" cried Farley hotly, wheeling about on the visitors.
Some of the other fourth class men present turned and glanced coldly at the two last-comers. Others looked on with eager curiosity.
"I've heard," announced Darrin, "that you are saying some things about me that don't sound well. So I've come to ask you what you are saying."
"I won't keep you waiting," jeered Farley. "You know, from hearing morning orders, that six of us were given fifty demerits apiece."
"For going over the wall to a late supper in town," nodded Dave.
"You wouldn't go with us," continued Farley angrily, "and gave us a greaser's talk-fest instead."
"I didn't advise you against going," responded Dave, standing with his arms folded, utterly cool as he eyed his accuser.
"Then, after we went, some one went and wised the powers," chargedFarley. "Now, no one but a most abandoned greaser would do that."
To "wise the powers" is to give information to the Naval officers.
"The fellow who would wilfully tell on you would be worse than what you term a greaser," agreed Dave.
"Careful," warned Farley ironically. "You know who told, or who caused the wise word to leak to the powers."
"I don't," Dave denied bluntly.
"You're the sneak, yourself!" cried Farley angrily.
"I am not," spoke Dave, with clear denial.
"Do you mean to say I lie?" demanded Midshipman Farley threateningly, as he took a step forward.
"Do you deliberately state that I informed upon you, or caused you to be informed upon?" demanded Dave Darrin.
"Yes, I do!
"Then you lie!" returned Darrin promptly.
With a suppressed yell Farley sprang at Darrin, and the latter struck out quickly.
Midshipman Farley had the bad judgment to stop that blow with the side of his neck.
Across the room he spun, going down in a heap, his head under the study table.
Dave Darrin looked on with a cool smile, while Farley lay there for an instant, then scrambled out and up onto his feet.
But two or three other new midshipmen sprang in between Dave and his accuser.
"We can't have a fight here, Farley," urged two or three in the same breath.
"Let me at the sneak!" sputtered Farley who was boiling over with rage.
"Yes; let him at me," voiced Dave coolly, "and I'll send him into the middle of next term!"
But three of the midshipmen clung to Farley, who furiously strove to fling them off.
"Let me at him!" insisted the accuser. "He struck me."
"You struck at him first, and didn't land," replied one of the peacemakers. "You go on with a fight here, and you'll bring the officer in charge down on us all. Farley, if you feel you've a grievance you are privileged to take recourse to the regular code in such matters."
"The fellow has lied about me, and I'm ready to settle it with him now, or outside by appointment," broke in Dave, speaking as coolly as before.
"He calls me 'fellow' and 'liar,'" panted Farley, turning white."Do you think I can stand that?
"You don't have to," replied one of those who held Farley back."Send Darrin a challenge, in the regular way."
"I will!" panted Midshipman Farley. "And I'll hammer him all over and out of the meeting-place!"
"Then it's settled for a challenge," interposed Dan Dalzell. "That will suit us all right. We'll be ready whenever the challenge comes. And now, to prevent getting a lot of decent fellows into a needless scrape, Darrin and I will withdraw."
Dan took Dave by the arm, and both turned to leave the room.
"You—" began Farley hoarsely, when another midshipman clapped a hand over his mouth.
"Shut up Farley! Save all of your undoubted grit for the field, when you two meet."
The door closed softly behind Darrin and Dalzell.
"Why didn't you let me at the sneak?" bellowed Farley, released, now, from interfering hands.
"See here, Farley," advised one of his friends, "cool down and keep your face in a restful attitude. Darrin behaved twice as well as you did. If you don't look out you'll lose the sympathy of the class. Just keep cool, and restrain your tongue from wagging until you've met Darrin. Don't try to start the row again, this side of the field where you meet. If you do, you'll get many a cold shoulder."
Other midshipmen present spoke in the same vein. Farley, who wanted to be popular at all times, presently allowed himself to be advised.
Of course the news of the meeting, and of the more emphatic one to come spread fast through Bancroft Hall. There is an unknown wireless that carries all such news on wings through the brigade of midshipmen.
Within half an hour Henkel and Page brought the challenge to DaveDarrin. Dan, in the meantime, had been busy, and had inducedMidshipman Rollins, of the fourth class, to act with him as second.Rollins, indeed, needed little urging. He was eager to see thefight.
Tyson, of the second class, was secured as referee, while Trotter, of the third class, gladly agreed to act as time-keeper.
The time was set for an hour before taps, as, on this evening, it would be easy for all the young men involved to slip away and be back in time for taps.
"I won't let the thing run over two rounds," promised Farley, who had an excellent idea of himself as a fighter.
That afternoon Dave and Farley were obliged to pass each other. Dave did not even seem to know that his enemy was around. Farley, on the other hand, glared ferociously at Darrin as he passed.
Midshipman Trotter certainly would have come around to offer Dave friendly counsel, had not his position as one of the officials of the fight restrained him.
Dave, by his prompt action, had veered many of his classmates around to his side. The bulk of opinion in the class, however, was that Farley would make good in his boasts of victory. He was a heavily-built yet very active young man, who had shown great promise in boxing bouts in the gymnasium.
At half-past eight that evening, while scores of cadets strolled through the grounds, thinking of the academic term to begin on the morrow, some little groups made their way more directly across the grounds. Many interested glances followed them.
Over in the direction of the Old Government Hospital stepped Dave, accompanied by Dan and Rollins.
They were the first to arrive, though a few minutes later MidshipmenTyson and Trotter appeared.
"Farley doesn't seem in as a big hurry as he was," remarked DanDalzell laughingly.
It was not, in fact, until close to the time that Farley, Henkel and Page came on the scene.
"We want to put this mill through briskly, gentlemen," announced Midshipman Tyson, in a low tone. "Both principals will be good enough to get ready as rapidly as possible."
Dave Darrin had been only awaiting the order. Now he took off his cap and uniform blouse, handing them to Dan, who folded the coat and laid it on the ground, placing the cap on top of it.
By this time Darrin had pulled his shirt over his head. Dan took that also, while Rollins produced a belt which Dave strapped about his waist with care.
Then he stepped forward, like a young war horse, sniffing the battle.
Farley was more leisurely in his preparations, though he did not appear nervous. In fact, Farley wasn't a bit nervous. But he meant "wind up" the fight in such short order that there would be an abundance of time to spare.
"There's no use in giving you any advice, old fellow," murmuredDan. "You've been in too many fights, back in the good old HighSchool days of Dick & Co."
"I can handle myself," nodded Dave, "unless Farley proves to be a veritable wonder."
"He certainly thinks he is," warned Rollins. "And a good many of the fellows believe Farley to be the best man of the class in this line of work."
"They won't think so much longer," returned Dan, as simply as though merely stating a proved fact. "You see, Rollins, you never had the great good luck to get your kid training with Dick & Co. Our old crowd always went in to win just because we were blind to the idea that there was any possible chance of losing."
"Did you always make good?" asked Rollins curiously.
"Just about always, I reckon," nodded Dan confidently.
"You must have been a wonder-bunch then," smiled Rollins.
Farley was ready, now, and coming forward with a second on either side of him.
"Step in Dave old fellow." directed Dan.
Dave came forward to where Midshipman Tyson awaited them.
"Gentlemen," announced the referee, "this is to be a fight to the finish, bare hands. As time is short you are urged to mix it up briskly to a conclusion. The usual ring rules will guide the officials of this meeting. Hand-shaking will dispensed with. Are you ready?"
"Ready!" hissed Farley venomously.
"Ready," nodded Dave coolly.
"Time!"
With a yell Farley leaped in. He didn't want it to last more than one round, if it could be helped.
The fury of his assault drove the lighter Darrin back. Farley followed up with more sledge-hammers. He was certainly a dangerous man, with a hurricane style. He was fast and heavy, calculated to bear down a lighter opponent.
Before that assortment of blows Dave Darrin was forced to resort to footwork.
"Stand up and fight!" jeered Farley harshly as he wheeled and wheeled, still throwing out his hammer blows. "Don't play sneak on the field!"
Dave didn't even flush. Trained with Dick Prescott at GridleyHigh School, Darrin was too old a hand to be taunted into indiscretion.
In spite of his footwork, however, Farley succeeded in landing upon him twice, though neither blow did much damage.
Then a third blow landed, against the side of Darrin's head, that jarred him. It was all he could do to stand off Farley until he recovered his wits enough to dodge once more.
Yet, all the while, Darrin was watching his chance.
"This isn't a sprint!" yelled Farley, in high disgust. "Come back here!" Dave did come back.
Wheeling suddenly, he struck his right arm up under Farley's now loose guard.
In the same fraction of a second Dave let fly with his left.
Smack!
It wasn't such a very hard blow—but it landed on the tip ofFarley's nose.
With a yell of rage Farley made a dive at his lighter opponent.
"Time!"
In his rage Farley tried to strike after that call, but Dave bounded to one side.
Then, turning his back, Darrin walked away to where Dan and MidshipmanRollins awaited him.
"Be careful, Mister Farley," warned Second Class Man Tyson, striding over to him. "You struck out after the call of time. Had the blow landed I would have been compelled under the rules to award Darrin the fight on a foul."
"First blood for our side!" cheered Dan, as he sprang at Dave with a towel.
In a few moments the young man had been well rubbed down, and now Dan and Rollins, on opposite sides, were kneading his muscles.
From over in Farley's corner came a growl:
"I came here to fight, not to go in for track work. That fellow can't fight."
"Queer!" remarked Dan cheerfully. "We hold all the honors so far."
Quickly enough the call of time came.
Farley, the flow of blood from his nose stanched, came back as full of steam as before.
Dave's footwork was as nimble as ever. Speed and skill in dodging were features of Darrin's fighting style.
Yet Farley caught him, with a blow on the chest that sent him to his knees.
Like a flash, however, Darrin was upon his feet, and Farley lunged at him swiftly and heavily.
In the very act of reaching his feet, however, Dave Darrin leaped lightly to the left.
With an exclamation of disgust Farley turned and swung again.
But Dave dropped down, then shot up under his opponent's guard once more.
Biff!
This time an exclamation of real pain came from Farley, for the blow had landed solidly on his left eye, just about closing it.
A second time Darrin might have landed, but he was taking no chances under a steam-roller like Farley.
As Dave danced away, however, followed up by his opponent, bellowing from the sudden jolt his eye had received, he saw that Farley was fighting almost blindly.
Dan Dalzell now jumped in as close as he had any right to be.He wanted to see what would happen next.
Nor was he kept long guessing, for Dave had slipped around on the blind side of his opponent.
"Confound you! Can't you stand up and fight square?" demandedFarley harshly.
Dave flushed, this time. Dodging two of Farley's blows he next moved as though about to retreat.
Instead, however, Darrin leaped up and forward.
Pound! Dave's hard left fist landed crushingly near the point of Farley's jaw.
Down went the larger man, while his seconds rushed to him.
Midshipman Trotter, watch in hand, began calling off the seconds.
Steadily he counted them, until he came to "—eight, nine,ten!"
Still Farley lay on the ground, his good eye, as well as his damaged one, closed.
If he was breathing it was so slightly that his seconds, not permitted under the rules to go close, could not detect the movements of respiration.
"He loses the count," announced Second Class Man Tyson, in businesslike tones. "I award the fight to Mister Darrin."
Always the ceremonious "mister" with which upper class men refer to new fourth class men. It is not until the plebe becomes a "youngster" that the "mister" is dropped for the more friendly social address.
Farley's seconds were kneeling at his side now.
"Can you bring him out easily?" asked Midshipman Tyson, going over to the defeated man's seconds.
"He's pretty soundly asleep, just now," put in Midshipman Trotter."My, but that was a fearful crack you gave your man, mister!"
"I'm sorry if I have had to hurt him much," replied Dave coolly."I am not keen for fighting."
Dan and Rollins offered their services in helping to bring Farley to, only to met by a curt refusal from Midshipman Henkel.
So Dave and his seconds stood mutely by, at a distance, while the two officials in the late fight added their efforts to those of the seconds of the knocked-out man.
At last they brought a sigh from Farley's lips.
Soon after the defeated midshipman opened his eyes.
"Is—Darrin—dead?" he asked slowly, with a bewildered look.
Midshipman Trotter chuckled.
"Not so you could notice it, mister. But you surely had a close call. Do you want to try to sit up?"
This Farley soon concluded to do. Then his seconds dressed him.
"Now, see if you can stand on your feet," urged Midshipman Tyson.
By this time Farley's wits had returned sufficiently for him to have a very fair idea of what had passed.
Aided by Henkel and Page Midshipman Farley got to his feet. There he stood, dizzily, until his late seconds gave him stronger support. "You can't go back to Bancroft while you are in this condition, mister," hinted Tyson decidedly. "You'll have to pass in review before one of our medical gentlemen, and do whatever he deems best."
"Dan," murmured Dave, "go over and ask Farley whether he cares to shake hands."
Dan crossed in quest of the information.
"Never!" growled Farley, with a hissing intake of breath.
"It's a shame to have bad blood after the fight is over," mutteredTyson rebukingly.
"I don't want anything to do with that fellow until we meet again," growled Farley.
"Great Scott, mister! You don't think of calling Mister Darrin out again, do you?" demanded Tyson, with a gasp.
"Yes; if he can be made to fight fair!" snarled Farley.
"He fought fairly this time, mister," replied Second Class Man Tyson, almost with heat. "You're a fast, heavy and hard scrapper for your age, mister, but the other man simply out-pointed you all through the game. If you call him out again, and he meets you, he can kill you if he sees fit."
"Misters," directed Midshipman Trotter, addressing Henkel and Page, "you'd better hurry to get your man over to a surgeon if you want to be in your rooms at lights-out time."
As Page and Henkel started away with their unfortunate comrade,Dave approached Tyson.
"Sir, do you believe that I fought with entire fairness?" askedDarrin of the referee.
"Fair? Of course you did, mister," replied Tyson. "Come along,Trotter."
Dave, who had dressed some time before, now turned with Dan and Rollins and started back. They took pains not to be seen close to the upper class men.
"Who won?" demanded a fourth class man, curiously, as they nearedBancroft Hall.
"Farley will tell you tomorrow if he's able," grinned Dan.
When taps sounded on the bugle, that evening, all of the midshipmen, save Farley, were in their rooms.
Promptly as the last note of taps broke on the air the last of the midshipmen was in bed, and the electric light was turned off from a master switch. The inspection of rooms was on.
Fourth Class Man Farley did not put in an appearance at breakfast formation in the morning.
As this was the opening day of the first term of the academic year it was a bad time to be "docked for repairs" at the hospital.
Merely reading over the list of the fourth class studies did not convey to the new men much idea of how hard they were to find their work.
In the department of Marine Engineering and Naval Construction there were lessons in mechanical drawing.
No excuse is made for a midshipman's natural lack of ability in drawing. He must draw satisfactorily if he is to hope to pass.
In mathematics the new man had to recite in algebra, logarithms and geometry.
In addition to the foregoing, during the first term, the new midshipman had courses in English and in French.
As at West Point, the mathematics is the stumbling block of the new man at Annapolis.
In the first term algebra, logarithms and geometry had to be finished, for in the second term trigonometry was the subject in mathematics.
Shortly before eight in the morning the bugle call sounded for the first period of recitation.
The midshipmen fell in by classes in front of Bancroft Hall.After muster the classes marched away by sections.
Each section contained an average of ten men, under command of one of their number, who was known as the section leader.
It was the section leader's duty to march his section to the proper recitation room in Academic Hall, to preserve discipline while marching, and to report his section to the instructor.
At the beginning of the academic year the fourth class men were divided into sections in alphabetical order. Afterwards the sections would be reorganized according to order of merit.
So, at the outset, Darrin and Dalzell were in the same section, and Dave, as it happened, had been appointed section leader.
When the command rang out Dave marched away with his section, feeling somewhat proud that he had attained even to so small a degree of command.
It was an interesting sight to see hundreds of midshipmen, split up into so many sections, marching across the grounds in so many different directions, for not all the sections were headed for Academic Hall.
Dave knew the number of the room to which his section was bound, and knew also the location of the room.
Sections march, in step, at a brisk gait, the clicking of so many heels against the pavements making a rhythmic, inspiring sound.
Some of the midshipmen in Dave's section however, felt low-spirited that morning. They had been looking through their text-books, and felt a dread that they would not be able to keep up the stiff pace of learning long enough to get past the semi-annual examinations in the coming January.
Dave and Dan, however, both felt in good spirits. They had looked through the first lessons in algebra, and felt that they would not have much trouble at the outset, anyway. They believed that they had been well grounded back in their High School days.
On their way Darrin's section was passed by three officers of the Navy. Midshipmen must always salute officers of the Navy. While marching in sections, however, the only midshipman who salutes is the section leader.
Three times Dave's hand came smartly up to the visor of his cap in salute, while the other men in his section looked straight ahead.
Reaching Academic Hall Dave marched his section mates into the recitation room.
Lieutenant Bradshaw, the instructor, was already present, standing by his desk.
Darrin saluted the lieutenant as soon as he had halted the section.
"Sir, I report all members of the section present."
Five of the midshipmen were directed by Lieutenant Bradshaw to go to their seats. The rest were ordered to blackboards, Dave and Dan among the latter number.
Those at the blackboards were each given a problem to lay out on the blackboard. Then the instructor turned to the fourth class men who remained in their seats.
These he questioned, in turn, on various aspects of the day's lesson.
All the time the midshipmen at the blackboard worked busily away, each blocking out phase after phase of his problem.
Dave Darrin was first to finish. He turned his back to the board, taking the position of parade rest.
Dan was third to finish.
"Mr. Darrin, you may explain your work," announced LieutenantBradshaw.
This Dave did, slowly, carefully, though without painful hesitation.When he had finished the instructor asked him several questionsabout the problem, and about some other phases of the day's work.Darrin did not jump at any of his answers, but made them thoughtfully.
"Very good, indeed, Mr. Darrin," commented the instructor. "But, when you are more accustomed to reciting here, I shall hope for a little more speed in answering."
As Dave was returning to his seat Lieutenant Bradshaw marked him 3.8 per cent on the day's work.
That was an excellent marking, 4 being the highest. The lowest average in a study which a midshipman may have, and hold his place in the Naval Academy, is 2.5. Anything below 2.5 is unsatisfactory, which, in midshipman parlance is "unsat." Taking 4 to represent 100 per cent., 2.5 stands for 62.5 per cent. This would not be a high average to expect, as courses are laid down in the average High School of the land; but as most of our American High Schools go 2.5 at Annapolis is at least as good a marking as 90 per cent would be in a High School.
"Good old Dave leaks too slow at the spout, does he?" chuckled Dan to himself, as he waited at parade rest. "When it comes my turn, then, as I happen to know my problem as well as the fellow who wrote the book, I'll rattle off my explanation at a gait that will force the lieutenant to stand on his feet to hear all I say."
Dalzell was the fourth man called upon at the blackboard.
Taking a deep breath, and assuming a tremendously earnest look, Dan plunged into the demonstration of his problem as fast as he could fire the words out.
Lieutenant Bradshaw, however, listened through to the end.
"Your demonstration is correct, Mr Dalzell," said the instructor quietly. "However while speed in recitation is of value, in the future try to speak just a little more slowly and much more distinctly. You are fitting yourself to become a Naval officer one of these days. On shipboard it is of the utmost importance that an officer's voice be always distinct and clear, in order that every word he utters may be instantly understood. Try to keep this always in mind, Mr. Dalzell, and cultivate the habit of speaking distinctly."
The rebuke was a very quiet one, and courteously given. But Dan, who knew that every other man in the section was grinning in secret over his discomfiture, was quickly losing his nerve.
Then, without favor, Lieutenant Bradshaw questioned Dan searchingly on other details of the day's work. Dan stammered, and forgot much that he had thought he knew.
Lieutenant Bradshaw set down a mark of 2.9, whereas Dalzell, had he stuck sensibly to the business in hand, would have been marked as high as Dave had been.
As the section was marching back to Bancroft Dan whispered:
"Dave, did you hear the old owl go 'too-whoo' at me in the section room?"
"Stop talking in section!" ordered Dave crisply.
"Blazes! There isn't a single spot at Annapolis where a fellow can take a chance on being funny!" muttered Dalzell under his breath.
"Dave, old chum," cried Dan tossing his cap on the bed as they entered their room. "Are you going to turn greaser, and stay greaser?"
"What do you mean?" asked Darrin quietly.
"You told me to shut up in the ranks."
"That was right, wasn't it? I am under orders to see that there is no talking in the section when marching."
"Not even a solitary, teeny little word, eh?"
"Not if I can stop it," replied Dave.
"And what if you can't stop it?"
"Then I am obliged to direct the offender to put himself on the report."
"Great Scott! Would you tell your chum to frap the pap for a little thing like that, and take demerits unto himself?"
"If I had to," nodded Dave. "You see, Dan, we're here trying to learn to be Naval officers and to hold command. Now, it's my belief that a man who can't take orders, and stick to them, isn't fit to give orders at any period in his life."
"This sort of thing is getting on my nerves a bit," grumbled Dan. "Just think of all the freedom we had in the good old days back at Gridley!"
"This is a new life, Dan—a different one and a better one."
"Maybe," half assented Dalzell, who was beginning to accumulate the elements of a "grouch."
"Dan," asked Darrin, as he seated himself at his desk and opened a book preparatory to a long bit of hard study, "don't you know that your bed isn't the regulation place to hang your cap?"
"Oh, hang the cap, and the regulations, too!" grumbled Dalzell. "I'm beginning to feel that I've got to break through at some point."
"Pick up your cap, and put it on its hook—do," begged Darrin coaxingly.
At the same time he looked us with a smile which showed that he thought his friend was acting in a very juvenile manner.
Something impelled Dan to comply with his chum's request. Then, after hanging the cap, with great care, on its nail, the disgruntled one slipped to the study table and picked up a book.
Just as he did so there came a knock on the door.
Then Lieutenant Stapleton, in white gloves and wearing his sword, stepped into the room, followed by a midshipman, also white-gloved.
Lieutenant Stapleton was the officer in charge, the young man the midshipman in charge of the floor.
"Good morning, gentlemen," said the Lieutenant pleasantly, as both midshipmen promptly rose to their feet and stood at attention. Dave and Dan remained standing at attention while the lieutenant stepped quickly about the room, taking in everything with a practiced glance.
"Everything in order," commented the lieutenant, as he turned to the door. "Resume your work, gentlemen."
"Maybe you're glad you hung your cap up just in time," grinnedDave.
"Oh, bother the whole scheme!" grunted Dan "The idea of a fellow having to be a jumping-jack all the time!"
"A midshipman has to be a jumping-jack, I reckon," replied Dave, "until he learns to be a man and to live up to discipline as only a man can."
"See here, do you mean to say—"
"Go on with your study of English, unless you're sure you know all the fine points of the language," interrupted Darrin. "I know I don't and I want time to study."
Dan gazed steadily at his chum, but Darrin seemed too deeply absorbed in his work to be conscious of the gaze.