"Yes, sir; thank you, sir. We are just parting to our various quarters, sir."
"Good evening, gentlemen."
"Good evening, sir."
Lieutenant Cotton passed on down the corridor, and the midshipmen eased themselves from the rigid position of attention.
"That was a narrow squeak," grunted Hepson. "Now, Jetson, get out ahead."
"I'll renew this argument at another time," retorted Jetson slowly, as he crossed the floor.
"You don't need to, sir," Midshipman Hepson advised him. "Every gentleman here will agree with me that Mr. Dalzell had the best of the affair right up to the end. Nor is Mr. Dalzell under any obligation whatever to afford you another meeting on the score of to-night's disagreement."
"We'll see about that," snapped Jetson, as he passed through the doorway.
At that instant the study call sounded. The others hastened away to their quarters.
Dan Dalzell stepped over to the handbowl, washing his hands, after which he went to his study-table and began to arrange his books.
"It's kind of lonely to sit here without old Darry," sighed Dan dismally. "I hope he'll be here with me to-morrow evening. No; I don't either, though. I want him to stay over in hospital until there's no chance whatever that he'll have to wear an ugly scar through life."
It was three evenings later when Midshipman David Darrin returned to his own quarters in Bancroft Hall. By this time the surface wound on his face was healing nicely, and with ordinary care he would soon be without sign of scar.
"Pills (the surgeon) told me that I'll have to be careful and not let anything bump this face for days to come," remarked Dave, pointing to the strip of adhesive plaster that neatly covered his injury.
"Well, you don't need to bump anything," replied Dan quietly. "Hepson wants you on the gridiron the worst way, but he has told me that he won't even allow you to get into togs until Pills has certified that you're fit to play."
"It's tough," sighed Dave, then quietly began his studies.
It is a rare proceeding to send a midshipman to Coventry; a step that is never taken save for the gravest reasons. Dan, having fought, did not feel it necessary to bring Jetson's case before a class meeting, and Jetson escaped Coventry. He was not cut, yet he soon discovered that the average classmate paid no more heed to him than appeared to be necessary for courtesy's sake.
After another week "Pills" consented to Dave Darrin's going out for regular gridiron practice. Dave needed the work badly, for the Navy team was now on the eve of the first game of the season.
Jetson, with no hope now of making the eleven this year, avoided the field for a few days.
The first game of the season took place on a Saturday afternoon. The opponent was Hanniston College. Ordinarily, in the past, Hanniston had been an easy enough opponent, though there had been years in which Hanniston had carried the score away from the field.
"How many of the regular team do you want to throw into the game against Hanniston, Mr. Hepson?" inquired Lieutenant-Commander Havens the night before the game.
"Every one of them, sir," Hepson answered the head coach. "Until we get into a real game, we can't be sure that we've the strongest eleven. To-morrow's game will show us if we have made any mistakes in our selections."
Even though Hanniston was considered one of the lesser opponents, every man in the brigade speculated with great interest, that night, on the probable outcome of the morrow.
"Darrin will have a good chance to prove himself, a dub to-morrow," thought Midshipman Jetson darkly. "I hate to wish against the Navy, but I'll cheer if Darrin, individually, ties himself up in foozle knots!"
On the day of the game the midshipmen talked eagerly, and mostly of football, through dinner in the great messhall of the brigade.
"Did any one see the Hanniston infants arrive?" demanded Page.
"Infants, eh!" called Joyce from the next table. "That shows you didn't see the visiting eleven."
"Why? Are they of fair size?" asked Farley.
"It took two 'buses to bring the regular eleven, besides the subs and all the howlers," retorted Joyce. "And the regular eleven, I am reliably informed, tip the scales at four tons."
"Oh, come, now, Joyce, shave off a ton or two," protested Farley.
"I won't take off more than fifty pounds, sir," retorted Joyce with mock stubbornness. "Say! The Hanniston fellows are enormous."
"Then they've run all to bones and haven't any brains," grinned Dan. "After all, we don't mind mere bulk, for intelligence wins most of the games on the gridiron."
"As to their intelligence, I can't say," admitted Joyce. "At any rate, from the glimpse that I got of the Hans, I should say that they average two years older than our men."
"Let's throw up the sponge, then," proposed Dalzell demurely. "If we can't beat the visitors what's the use of playing them? It isn't even necessary to get into togs. We can send a note to the referee, and he can award the game to Hanniston."
"Fine!" broke in Hepson scornfully.
"However, I guess we aren't going to have any cinch to-day," joined in Midshipman Waite, from another table. "I have word from outside, by the way."
"What word?"
"Well, the Hanniston fellows have brought over some money with which to back up the howls they're making for their team. They're offering odds of ten to six that Hanniston wins."
"They stand to lose a lot of money," grinned Hepson.
"But here's the funny part of it," continued Waite. "You know, when the townspeople in Annapolis think they have a really good thing on us, they cover the money of visitors in any wagers on the games."
"Then here's hoping that the Annapolis townspeople win a lot to-day," laughed Midshipman Hepson.
"Yes, but," returned Waite, "what I hear from town is that the Annapolis townspeople have been driven to cover; that they aren't taking up the offers of the visiting Hanniston boys."
"Too bad!" sighed Dave Darrin. "And Annapolis needs the money so badly, too."
"Are we going to win?" asked Waite bluntly.
"Too early to tell you," replied Hepson coolly. "Ask me at supper to-night. But the townies won't wager any money on us this year, eh?"
"The Annapolis people have put up some, but not much," replied Waite.
"We're going to win, just the same," announced Dan Dalzell.
"Sure?" questioned several voices.
"Oh, yes! It's all settled now," laughed Midshipman Waite. "I've been waiting for Danny boy to tell us. Now, we know—we've heard from the hot-air meter."
There was a laugh in which Dan didn't join readily, though his face reddened considerably. Midshipman Dalzell was one of those who always believed that the Navy must win, just because it was the Navy. Some of the other midshipmen didn't go quite as far as that in their confidence.
"Better not call Danny boy names," advised Dave Darrin gravely. "He might be sulking at just the time when we need him this afternoon."
"That would be unmilitary," retorted Mr. Waite.
"Oh, no," said Dave lightly. "Even as good a soldier as Achilles sulked in his tent, you know."
"Achilles? What class was he in, then?" demanded Waite. "I don't remember the name."
"He was in a class of his own, at the siege of Troy," volunteered Farley.
"Troy, N.Y.?" inquired Waite.
"If you keep on, Waite," muttered Farley, "someone will have to give you an ancient history book at Christmas. You don't seem well posted on Greek tales."
"Don't have to be, thank goodness," returned Waite, helping himself to another piece of beef. "Greek isn't on the list here."
There was abundant time for rest before the game. The players and subs, for the Navy team, however, were early at dressing quarters. Jetson hadn't been called as one of the subs., so he walked sulkily and alone through the grounds while most of the midshipmen strolled, about in groups.
Half an hour before the time for the game the spectators' seats held fair-sized crowds. At that time the Naval Academy Band began to play, just to keep the waiting ones more patient.
Ten minutes later the Hanniston players came on to the field at a slow trot. Instantly the Hanniston howlers in the audience began to whoop up the noise. The midshipmen joined in cheers, and then the band took up the music again.
At first sight of the visitors, some of the Navy people began to have their doubts about victory. The Hannistons surely were "bulky." In size and age, the visitors were as formidable as any of the college elevens.
Many of the midshipmen, too, recalled what they had heard Waite say at table. It seemed little wonder that the popular odds were against the middies.
But the band, having played its welcome to the Hannistons, who were now chasing a ball over the field in practice, almost immediately switched off into the strains of "See, the Conquering Hero Comes!"
All doubts were dispelled for the moment at least, as all the Navy people present let loose a tremendous cheer in which the midshipmen spectators led, for now Captain Hepson was leading his own men on to the field, the hope of the Navy that day.
"Hepson! Hepson!" went up rousingly from the brigade.
"Darrin! Darrin!" howled others.
"Dalzell!"
"Darrin! Darrin!"
"Hepson must enjoy hearing more noise for Darrin than for himself," reflected Jetson moodily.
But Hepson, big in body, heart and mind, was intent only on victory. It did not even occur to the captain of the Navy eleven that Darrin was getting more of a reception than himself. Hepson was simply and heartily glad to find himself supported by two such promising gridiron men as Darrin and Dalzell.
"Remember, Darry, how much we're backing on you to-day," muttered Hepson, after another round of yells for Dave had been given.
"I can't do everything, and perhaps not much," smiled Dave. "But I'll do my level best to do all that you call upon me for at my own little spot in the line."
A din of Hanniston yells was now smiting the air. Uncle Sam's midshipmen waited with patience and courtesy, but when their turn came they volleyed forth four times as much as the visiting howlers could supply.
"I hope Darry is in great form to-day," murmured the midshipman seated next to Jetson.
"He looks to be in as good shape as ever doesn't he?" asked Jetson sullenly.
"Oh, I forgot," exclaimed the other. "You don't like Darry any too well."
"I've nothing against him that would make me want to see him in bad form," grumbled Jetson. "I'm a Navy man and I don't want to see any but Navy victories."
The toss had just been made, the visitors winning the kick-off. At a sign from a Navy officer in the field the leader silenced his band and a hush fell over the gridiron and the seats of the onlookers.
Within five minutes the Hanniston players had established the fact that they were not only bulky, but quick and brainy. In fact, though the Navy promptly blocked the ball and got it, the middies were unable to make headway against the college men. Then Hanniston took the ball, fighting slowly but steadily toward the Navy goal line.
"I don't see Darrin making any wonderful plays," thought Jetson to himself. He was gloomy over seeing the Navy outplayed, but secretly glad that the spectators had as yet found no occasion to shout themselves hoarse over Midshipman Dave's work.
Outside of the brigade the other spectators in the Navy seats felt themselves tinder a cloud of increasing gloom.
"From all the talk I had expected more of Mr. Darrin," remarked an officer's wife-to her husband.
"Darrin has a fearful Hanniston line against him," replied the officer. "Captain Hepson realizes that, too, and he isn't pushing Darrin as hard as you might wish to see."
"We're going to be beaten, aren't we?" asked another Navy onlooker.
It was as yet too early to predict safely, though all the appearances were that the visitors would do whatever scoring was to be done to-day.
Yet, even when they felt themselves outclassed, the middies hung to their opponents with dogged perseverance. It took nearly all of the first half for the Hannistons to place the Navy goal in final, desperate danger.
Then, of a sudden, while the Hannistons worked within a dozen yards of the Navy goal line, the college boys made a new attack, the strongest they had yet shown.
There was a bumping crash as the lines came together, at the Navy's right. Farley and Page were swept clear off their feet and the assailants swept onward. Another clever attack, backed by a ruse, and one of the college boys started on a dead run with the ball. In vain the Navy's backs tried to stop him. The Hanniston boys successfully interfered for their runner, and the ball was touched down behind the goal line.
Gone were the cheers that had been ascending from the brigade. All theNavy crowd gasped in dismay. The ball was carried back, kicked, andHanniston had scored six points.
"Ha, ha, ha! Ha, ha, ha, ha—Hanniston! Wow!" went up derisively from the visiting howlers.
"Hepson! Hepson! Pull us out!" came the appeal.
"Darry! Darry! Rush it!"
As the two elevens were lining up for another start the time-keeper's whistle sounded the end of the first half of the game.
Gloomy, indeed, were those who had hoped to see the Navy win. There were no cheers, save from the visitor-howlers. The best that the leader of the band could do, was to swing his baton and start in the strains of "'Twas Never Thus in Olden Times."
"What do you make of the enemy, Hepson?" inquired Joyce, as the middies rested at the side lines.
"We haven't made anything of them yet, but we've got to make wrecks of 'em before the last half is over," grunted the captain of the Navy.
"How are we going to do it?" asked another player.
"By just hanging at them with sheer grit," replied the captain gravely. "Fellows, they've beaten us so far, but they haven't worn us out any. Big fellows as the Hannistons are, they may not have the endurance to hang to us through all of the coming half."
"That makes me remember a song I heard when on leave this year," grinnedPage. "A part of it runs:
'Said the ant to the elephant,"Who are ye shoving?There's one wide river to cross!"'
"And we're the elephants?" inquired Farley in mock innocence.
"Do we look it?" demanded Page in disgust.
"Remember, fellows," warned Hepson, as the signal summoned both teams back to the field, "many a hopeless game has been won in the last five minutes. But don't wait. Hammer the college boys from the start!"
"Dalzell and I can stand hard work and pounding whenever you get ready to put it on us," Dave announced to Hepson. "Don't try to spare us any. Both of us would sooner be carried away on stretchers than see the Navy lose its first game to a minor college."
The game was resumed. For ten minutes the Navy played mainly on the defensive. Indeed, to the spectators it seemed all that the middies could do against such big fellows as the visitors.
Just after that, however, Hepson passed the silent signal, and then the midshipmen hurled themselves into the fray to test out all the endurance that the Hanniston players might possess.
Many a college boy on the opposing line wondered where these smaller men in the Navy togs had obtained all the fight that they now showed. The big fellows didn't seem able to stand it long. The Navy had the ball, and now slowly fought down toward the college goal. Onlookers in the Navy seats began to stand up, to watch breathlessly, and be ever ready to cheer.
"Hurl little Darry in!" yelled someone hoarsely in a momentary lull in the noise.
But Hepson, watching every chance with tigerish eyes, was yet cool-headed, as a football general should be. Twice he used Darrin to advance the ball, and each time Dave gained a few yards. The third time, wearied by pounding his head against a human stone wall, Dave failed to gain more than half a yard. Watchful Hepson sent the ball, after the next snap-back, over to the Navy's right.
The time of the second half was slipping away, and it now looked as though the middies might gradually have won by the steady, bull-dog quality of their tactics.
Nearer and nearer to the college goal line the team of smaller men fought the pigskin, until at last they had it within six yards of the Hanniston fortress. But at this point the visitors stayed further progress long enough to have the pigskin ovoid come to them by a block.
The situation was desperate. Hanniston could not get the ball away from its present locality, and in dread the college captain sent the ball back of his own line to a safety.
This counted two for Annapolis, but it also set the ball back twenty-five yards from the college line.
"Block! block! block—if you can't fight the ball back to the Navy goal," was the word that Captain Hart, of the college team, sent along his own line. "Don't be too reckless. Just fight to keep the Navy from scoring."
"Hepson! Hepson!" came, appealingly, from the seats, as the two elevens lined up at the twenty-five-yard line.
"Darry! O Darry!"
Grim determination written on their faces, eleven middies awaited the signal, then hurled themselves forward like tigers.
The ball came to Dave, who started with it. Dan Dalzell, watching his chum with cat-like eyes, followed and made the best interference that he had offered that day.
Five and a half yards won!
As center bent for the snap back, a "fake" signal was called by the Navy quarter-back.
Just as the ball started, the Navy players back of the line started toward the right The Hanniston men, tired now, but full of grit as ever, moved to block. The Navy gained a second or two, for the pass was really to the left, and again Darrin had the pigskin clutched tightly as he started to ran and deceive. Again Dan and the others of the interference sustained their idol and champion. Dave went soon to earth, but he had forced the ball another six yards!
"Darry—oh, Darry!"
"One more play and over the line!"
"You've got the elephants going at last."
"Rush 'em!"
"A touchdown saves us!"
Dan's face was flushed, Dave's white and set as the line again formed for the next play.
Quarter-back Joyce held up his head, watching the field like a mouse seeking escape.
Then came the emergency signal: "Nine—fourteen—twenty-two—three!"
Back came the pigskin while the middies seemed to throw their bodies toward the right. It looked as though they were trying to mask this feint.
The ball was in motion. But Dave had it, instead of Farley. Instantly the Navy swung its entire line toward the left, for this was the grand rush, the die on which everything was cast!
Dave was darting forward, and never had his interference backed him better.
Before Midshipman Darrin stood one of the big college men, who looked fully equal to stopping the midshipman anywhere and at any time.
Nor did Darrin try to dodge this bulky player. Instead, Dave, as he hurled himself at the opponent, sprang high into the air, as though he had some desperate plan of leaping over the barrier.
Braced on his legs, his two feet solidly planted, this Hanniston man felt ready for any shock that Dave Darrin could bring against him.
But Darrin did not touch him. On the contrary, the Navy's hope fell to the ground, just short of the blocking opponent.
Like a flash Dave went between that pair of solidly braced, wide-spread legs. In a wriggle that looked flash-like to the breathless beholders, Darrin was through. He had taken desperate chances, when he went down, of being beset, end forced to hold the pigskin where he had fallen.
But now Dave was up and running, and the player who had sought to block him was far in the rear.
The whole Navy force hurled itself around this point, battering down the startled opposition. With fast-coming breath Dave's comrades pushed him along breaking down all opposition—until Dave, with a sudden, wild dash, was over the line for a touchdown.
"Darry did it! Darry did it!"
For fifteen seconds the uproar was deafening. The college players looked stunned, while their howlers, over on the visitors' seats, seemed to shrink within their coats.
"Seven to six!"
"Make it eight!"
Dave Darrin had borne the brunt of battle. Now his eyes were flashing with excitement.
"I'd like you to try the kick for goal, Darry, but I don't know," calledHepson in his ear. "You may be about used up."
"Let me have the kick. I'm not afraid," Dave half boasted, for now he could think of nothing but victory.
"All right. Take it," agreed Hepson.
Dave Darrin did take the kick. Never had he made a better one. The ball went straight and true between the goal-posts.
The band-leader held his baton poised, but the Navy spectators broke into such a riot of joy that he let the baton fall inertly.
"What's the use?" he asked the musicians.
Again the players lined up, with the Navy; score eight to six.
Ten seconds later, the whistle blew, announcing the end of the game.
The game was over. The giant visitors had departed, and the Naval Academy atmosphere appeared to be rarefied.
Most of the members of the brigade were back in Bancroft Hall, and this being late Saturday afternoon, study was over save for those who felt the need of devoting extra time to their books.
Farley, Page and Joyce had dropped into the room occupied by Dave andDan.
"Hepson was nearly crazy this afternoon," remarked Joyce, laughing.
"Then he had an easy way of concealing the fact," Dave replied. "I call him a cool football captain, with plenty of judgment and patience."
"Yes; but I happen to know that he was badly upset," returned Joyce. "Twice he sent me the wrong signal about the numbers to call, and he admitted it afterward. He was afraid, before the game was twenty minutes' old, that we were up against a big walloping."
"Oh, well," Darrin replied, with a shrug of his shoulders, "the Navy is just as used as the Army is to being walloped in athletics. The trouble with the Army and Navy teams, in athletics, is that we're always pitted against college men who are bigger and older than we are. It's just about as unfair to us, as it would be unfair to High School teams if we played against High Schools instead of colleges. We could wallop High School outfits at either baseball or football, and the only wonder is that the Army and Navy win as many games as they do against the colleges. College teams have more time for training than the Army or Navy teams do."
"What are you going to do to-night, Darry?" Joyce asked presently."The hop?"
"No," Dave answered almost shortly. The truth was that he was no "hop-fiend" or "fusser." Except when Belle Meade was at Annapolis to go to a hop with him, Darrin had little liking for the ball.
"I don't intend to hop either," Joyce continued. "Now, are you well enough up in grease to get town leave for the evening?"
"Grease" means good standing on the conduct report.
"Yes," nodded Dave. "Danny and I could easily get town leave, if we had a good excuse. But, of course, it's out of the question to get leave merely to roam the streets. We'd have to explain where we were going, and then go there."
"There's a show on at the theatre," broke in Dalzell.
"Yes," nodded Dave. "But do you know what kind of show it is?"
"No."
"It's a burlesque show, brought here to win away the half dollars of the sailors on the ships here. We'd stand very little chance of getting leave to go to that kind of show."
"But I want to go somewhere, away from the Academy grounds, just for a couple of hours," sighed Joyce.
"I'd like to go also," agreed Dave. "But where could we go? That is, to what place or for what purpose could we go that would be approved by the O.C.?"
This proved to be a poser indeed.
"Fact is," Joyce went on, "I'm so desperate for a little change that I don't believe I'd funk at taking French over the Academy wall. What do you two say?"
"That dog won't bark," Dave retorted.
"Oh, you greaser!" Joyce shied at him.
"Well, I am greasing to the extent that I won't imperil my chances of keeping in the service by taking any French leave," Darrin replied steadily. "So, Joyce, I'm afraid a trip to town to-night is out of the question, unless you can think up some plan to get by the O.C."
"How are you on Frenching the wall, Danny boy?" queried Joyce.
"Just about as big a muff as Darry," Dan returned dryly.
Joyce remained for some moments in deep meditation. He wanted to go into Annapolis, and he didn't care about going on a lonesome expedition. The more he thought the better Joyce realized how hard it was to frame a request that would get past the O.C.
"I have it," spoke up Dalzell at last. "We'll ask leave to run up toBaltimore to consult an oculist."
"You idiot!" cried Joyce impatiently. None of us need spectacles."
"Besides, there's no train running to Baltimore as late as this," added Dave.
"No good, then," sighed Dalzell, "and my inventiveness is gone."
"I'm afraid we'll have to French it over the wall," insisted Joyce.
"You'll French it alone, then," Dave declared. "I draw the line at leaving the grounds without official permission."
"Prig!" grunted Joyce under his breath. Then he started up, his eyes shining with the light of a new resolve.
"Got an idea?" asked Dan.
"Yes," said Joyce. "And you'll call me a fool if I let you in on it now.Wait until I see how it works."
With that he hastened from the room. Darrin drew down a book from the bookshelf, and from between its pages extracted a letter from Belle, which he began to read for the dozenth time.
A few minutes passed. Then Joyce knocked, next entered the room with jubilation apparent in his face.
"I've fixed it," he cried. "All you fellows have to do is to go to theO.C. and make your request in person."
"Request for what?" Dave asked, looking up as he folded the letter.
"I told the O.C., plumply, that we were so tired of being on this side of the wall that we felt desperate for a change. I reminded him that we are all three in the top grease grade, and told him that we wanted permission to take a short stroll through Annapolis to-night. O.C. hemmed and hawed, and said it was a most unusual request for the evening, though proper enough for Saturday afternoon. At last he called up the commandant of midshipmen, stated the case and asked if he might grant the permission. The com. was game and said all right. So all that remains is for you two to go to the O.C. and make your request in person. Scat! Get in motion! Start! I'll wait here until I hear that you've put it through."
"Of course, Joyce, you're not putting up a joke on us?" demanded Darrin, looking keenly at the Navy quarter-back.
"On my word I'm not."
"Come on, Danny boy," called Dave, starting, and Dalzell followed readily enough. They entered the office of the O. C., saluted and stated their case.
"It is, of course, a somewhat unusual request to grant for the evening," replied Lieutenant-Commander Denham. "However, I can grant it if you will both assure me that you will take extreme pains to keep out of trouble of any kind, and that you will not enter the theatre or any other resort that would be bad judgment for a midshipman to enter."
"As to that, sir," Darrin replied, "I long ago resolved not to take any chances whatever of breaking any disciplinary requirements that would bring me demerits. I am working hard to get through the academic requirements, sir, and I don't intend to pass the mental ordeals here and then find that I can't keep on as a midshipman just because I have too many demerits against me. I think, sir, you may feel assured I shall not allow myself to do anything that would bring me under discipline."
"Your resolution was and is a most excellent one, Mr. Darrin," replied the O.C. "Mr. Dalzell, do you share Mr. Darrin's determination as to keeping out of trouble in Annapolis this evening?"
"Emphatically, sir."
"Then the desired permission is granted. You will enter proper report as to the time of leaving and returning."
Thanking the O.C. and saluting, Dave and Dan hastened back to Joyce.
"Not so difficult, was it?" demanded the Navy quarter-back.
"It was a whole lot better than planning to French the trip," retorted Darrin. "Now, we shall leave here to-night feeling perfectly safe as to our place on the pap."
"Pap" is the sheet on which the day's report of midshipmen conduct is kept.
"I'll admit that caution is sometimes worth while," laughed Joyce.
Soon after the call for supper formation sounded. The meal hour was a merry one that evening. The afternoon's game was naturally the main subject for conversation.
Dave naturally came in for much praise for the way he had saved the Navy game, but this flattery bored him. Darrin did not in the least imagine that he was a wonder on the gridiron. In fact, the game being past and won, he did not take any further interest in it. Such thought as he now gave to football concerned the games still to come.
Immediately after the meal the three midshipmen reported their departure into Annapolis. Then they went to the main gate, passed through and strolled on up Maryland Avenue into State Circle.
"I'm sorry we promised not to go to the theatre," murmuredMidshipman Joyce.
"I'm not," retorted Dave. "Without that promise we wouldn't have secured the leave."
"But what are we going to do," demanded the dissatisfied one, "now that we are outside the grounds?"
"We can't do much, except what we came out to do," Dave reminded Joyce. "We can just walk about and stretch our legs, look in at a few store windows and make a few trifling purchases that won't exhaust our small store of pocket money."
"Exciting prospect!" remarked Joyce.
"Well, what ails you?" demanded Dalzell with unusual quietness. "What do you want to do? Something that will get us into big trouble with the O.C. and the com.?"
"Joyce can't tell you what he longs for, for he doesn't know himself," explained Dave.
"But I know. He wants to do something irregular; anything that is slightly in breach of the regulations—something that will get him hauled up before the O.C. and the pap."
"You're a wonderful guesser," laughed Joyce. "Well, I'll admit that I'm simply restless, and that anything that will stir my blood and my liver will fill the bill. I'm afraid I'm so depraved to-night that even a street-fight wouldn't go against the grain."
"You'd better forget it," advised Darrin quietly. "It's a dangerous frame of mind for a future officer and gentleman, who must acquire control over himself before he can be fit to command men."
"You talk like a padre!" (chaplain) uttered Joyce in disgust "Can't you forget, for one evening, that you're a midshipman?"
"No; I don't want to," Dave returned quietly.
"Prig!" uttered Joyce again, and this time he did not take the pains to speak under his breath. But Darrin only smiled indulgently.
By way of simple dissipation the three midshipmen went to a drug store, enjoying themselves with ice cream sodas. Soon after they found themselves in a Main Street bookstore, looking over post cards. They could, however, find no new ones, and so left without buying.
"And there's the theatre right over there!" sighed Joyce.
"It would be against our word as midshipmen and gentlemen to visit it," Dave urged. "Come on, Joyce; we'll turn into one of the very quiet side streets and stroll along. Then we'll be out of temptation."
Accordingly they went to one of the all but deserted side streets of the better sort.
"There's a comrade ahead of us," said Dave in an undertone presently, as he made out the uniform half a block away.
Hardly had he spoken when a door opened and a young man in evening clothes came lightly down the steps. At once the unknown midshipman wheeled and sprang at the young civilian. There was a swift interchange of blows, over almost as soon as it started, for the unknown midshipman speedily knocked down the man he had assaulted. Nor did the civilian get up at once. Instead, he bawled lustily for help.
Joyce made a move to spring forward, but Dave caught him by the arm.
"Don't get forward, Joyce. If you do, you'll probably recognize the midshipman. Then you'll have to report his name."
Answering the calls for help five other young men ran out of the same house. The midshipman disdained to flee and stood his ground.
"We'll teach you!" snarled one of the newly arrived civilians, raising his cane as though to bring it down on the midshipman's shoulders.
The midshipman, like a flash, wrenched the cane from the other's hands and began to lay it lustily about him. The whole crowd, therefore, including the young man who had first been knocked down, joined in the attack.
"That's too much like cowardice, and we're bound to go to the rescue of a comrade!" muttered Dave Darrin, his eyes blazing. "Come on, fellows—and be sure not to recognize that comrade!"
In a moment the fight was somewhat more equal. Darrin, Dalzell and Joyce were all accomplished and disciplined boxers. They closed with the crowd around the midshipman.
Crack! thump! bump! Midshipman blows landed heavily and rapidly. The civilians were soon worsted and scattered.
"Whoever you are, comrade," muttered Dave in a low tone, wheeling the unknown midshipman around, "don't look our way and don't give us any chance to recognize you. Scoot!"
"Po-o-o-lice!" lustily yelled one of the crowd of defeated civilians.
"Police!" bawled others of the civilians, taking up the hue and cry.
That spelled serious trouble if Dave and his friends should tarry there. Midshipmen are in no sense free from arrest by the civil authorities, and it is likely to fare hard with Uncle Sam's young sailors if they are taken in by the civil authorities.
"Come along," muttered Darrin, leading the way. He did not run, but he certainly walked fast, and in a direction away from Main Street. His two companions followed him. The "unknown midshipman," taking Darrin's shrewd hint, had already made himself invisible.
After the prompt drubbing they had received, not one of the young civilians felt any desire to follow these husky midshipmen.
The police in Annapolis are few in number, and so do not always hear a street summons. In this instance Dave and his friends turned a corner and were soon away from the scene of the late affair.
"Now, I hope you've had all the excitement you want, Joyce," Dave remarked dryly.
"Like most good things, it didn't last long," complained Joyce.
"Oh, it isn't over yet, by any means. We've the O.C. and the com. to face," grumbled Darrin. "But we couldn't stand by and see one of our own punched by a whole gang."
"Of course we couldn't, but why fuss about the com, and his satellite, the O.C.? They'll never hear of this."
"I think there's a big chance that we shall hear of it," retorted Dave. "That's why I advised you not to look at the unknown midshipman closely enough to be able to recognize him in the dark."
"I don't know who he was," admitted Dan candidly.
"Nor do I," supplemented Joyce.
"Then, whoever he is, the chap stands little chance of being caught unless he voluntarily announces himself."
Presumably the police didn't answer the hail of the young civilians. At any rate, Darrin and his friends heard nothing more of the matter while in town.
But when they returned to Bancroft Hall the trio were met by this announcement:
"The officer in charge wishes to see you in his office."
"It's coming," warned Dave, as he and his companions turned and went in to report themselves.
"There has been a disturbance in Annapolis," stated Lieutenant-CommanderDenham. "Mr. Darrin, were you in it?"
"I was in one kind of disturbance, sir," Darrin answered at once.
"Of what kind?"
"Several civilians attacked a man in a midshipman's uniform. I went to his aid."
"And attacked some civilians?"
"Yes, sir."
"Mr. Dalzell, Mr. Joyce, did you also take part in that affair?" inquired the O.C.
"Yes, sir," answered both midshipmen.
"For what reason?"
"Because, sir," answered Joyce, "several civilians pounced upon one man who wore a midshipman's uniform."
"And you three rushed in and pounded some civilians?" asked theO.C. coolly.
"I'm afraid we did, sir," answered Dave, who found the lieutenant-commander's gaze turned on him.
"Who was that other midshipman, Mr. Darrin?"
"I don't know, sir."
"Didn't you recognize him when you went to his aid?"
"I did not, sir."
"Did either of you gentlemen recognize the midshipman to whose rescue you rushed?"
Dan and Joyce replied in the negative.
"Tell me the circumstances of the attack, Mr. Darrin. Take pains to make your statement so exact that you will not have to amend the statement afterwards."
Darrin told the affair as it had happened.
"Hm! And none of you recognized the fourth midshipman?" pursued the O.C. "That, in itself, was strange, Mr. Darrin, was there any agreement among you three that you would not recognize your comrade?"
"Not exactly an agreement, sir," Dave confessed candidly. "At the distance that we were from the scene before we rushed in the darkness prevented our seeing the face of the unknown midshipman. As we started forward, I will admit that I warned Mr. Dalzell and Mr. Joyce not to look at the other midshipman's face."
"So that you might answer truthfully, if asked, that you did not know the man?"
"Yes, sir; that was my reason for so advising Mr. Dalzell and Mr. Joyce."
"That was what might be termed extraordinary foresight, Mr. Darrin," remarked Lieutenant-Commander Denham ironically.
"Thank you, sir," answered Dave as innocently as though he did not understand that he had just been rebuked. The O.C. frowned.
"Mr. Darrin, since I assume you to have been the ringleader of your trio, did you give that wonderful advice to your companions just so that you might be able to refuse any aid to the Naval Academy authorities in running this matter to the ground?"
"Yes, sir," Dave answered very frankly.
"You wished, then," demanded the O.C. sternly, "to hinder the course of justice at the Naval Academy?"
"It, at least, sir, did not strike me at the time quite in that light."
"Yet something was happening on the streets of Annapolis that you knew would be very thoroughly investigated if it were reported here, and so you took precautions against being able to aid the authorities in the investigation?"
"I admit the truth of that, sir."
"Mr. Darrin, why did you feel called upon to try to defeat the investigation that you foresaw, and which is now under way?"
"Because, sir, it is contrary to the spirit of the brigade of midshipmen to carry tales against each other. I did not care to act contrary to that spirit."
"Perhaps it would be more accurate to say that you did not dare," observed the O.C. half sneeringly.
"That way of stating it would be true, sir. I do not care to turn informer against my comrades."
"Yet you think you possess the courage to become one of our fighting officers in the future, if the need arises?
"Of my courage as a fighting man, sir, I am unable to form any opinion until that courage has been properly tested."
"But you are afraid to inform the authorities of the identity of comrades who commit serious offenses?"
"As it is contrary to the spirit of the brigade, sir, I would be more afraid of my own contempt than of any other punishment."
Lieutenant-Commander Denham appeared to lose some of his patience presently.
"I wonder," he remarked brusquely, "why you midshipmen cannot learn to accept some of your sense of honor from the officers who have seen so much more service than you. I wonder why you will go on formulating your own canons of honor, even when such beliefs sometimes result in the dismissal of midshipmen from the service."
The three midshipmen, not being questioned, remained silent.
"And so not one of you has the slightest idea of the original nature of the quarrel in which you so readily took part? And none of you has any idea of the identity of the fourth midshipman concerned in this evening's work?"
"I have not, sir," replied Midshipmen Darrin, Dalzell and Joyce in one breath.
"Very good, gentlemen. The matter will be investigated further. You will go to your quarters and remain there. You will take part in the meal formations, but in no drills or recitations until you are further advised. And you will not leave Bancroft Hall without direct orders from competent authority."
The three midshipmen saluted, turned and left the office, going to their own rooms.
"Wow!" muttered Dan as soon as the chums had closed their door on themselves.
"We shall surely have enough to think of," smiled Dave wearily.
"Oh, aye!" agreed Dalzell.
"Oh, well, if we're going to skip some recitations we'll need all the more study," sighed Dave, seating himself at his study table and drawing his books toward him.
But he was not permitted to study long in peace. Word of the affair had spread, and Hepson presented himself at Darrin's quarters in great consternation.
"Great!" mocked Hepson. "Just when we've discovered that the Navy has a dub team without you two, or next door to one, then you two go and get ordered to quarters. You'll not turn out with us Monday; you may not practice with us through the week or play in our next game. Fine!"
"Perhaps," grinned Dan, "if we two are so important to Navy prestige as you appear to imagine, we shall not be kept long from the gridiron."
"Dalzell," retorted Hepson impatiently, "you're a second classman, and you've been here long enough to know that no considerations of discipline will be made to stand aside in order that the Navy may have a better athletic team of any kind. Nothing here is sacrificed to athletics, and you surely must know it."
"Then I guess we're dished," confessed Dalzell mournfully.
"A fine way for you two to go and use the football squad! Great!" insisted Hepson bitterly.
"Had you been with us, Hepson, you'd have done just as we did. I know that," Dave replied.
"Well, you are calling me a bit," agreed Hepson. "After all, I don't know just what it was that got you both into this scrape. Some kind of fight, or row, in town, was all I heard."
"Then I'll tell you about it," Darrin went on quietly.
"Well, I really don't see how you could have helped it," agreedMidshipman Hepson after he had listened. "But that doesn't save us any.We're out our two best line players and our quarter-back."
"Oh, we'll be restored to the squad as soon as the sentence has been pronounced," predicted Dan Dalzell.
"Even if you're bounced out of the Naval Academy?" demanded Hepson savagely.
"It—it won't be as bad as that," faltered Dan.
"Perhaps not," agreed Hepson, "though you must understand that the charge of assaulting civilians is not a light matter. You can be dismissed for it, you know."
"Yes," nodded Dave Darrin, and then Danny boy went several shades less ruddy.
"Here's hoping for the best," grumbled Hepson, holding out his hand to each in turn. "And, for the love of Mike, keep out of all further trouble! Don't look cross-eyed—once—until after November!"
One circumstance puzzled all of the midshipmen who first heard of the affair. The fourth, and unknown, midshipman, who had waited outside of the house and assaulted the first civilian, must have known the latter or it was not likely that he would have committed the assault. That being the case, it was just likely that the civilian knew and had recognized the unknown midshipman who had knocked him down. Such an attack must have followed some prior dispute.
Then, since the civilians had undoubtedly made complaint to the Naval Academy authorities, how had they been able to get out of supplying the name of the midshipman unknown to Dave and his friends?
Right after breakfast the next morning Dave Darrin and his friends of the evening before were summoned before the commandant of midshipmen. By that officer they were questioned very rigidly, but they had nothing to add to their statement of the night before. They were therefore ordered back to their quarters, with permission only to attend chapel that forenoon.
Just after chapel, however, the fourth midshipman discovered himself to the officer in charge. He was Midshipman Totten, of fourth class.
Totten admitted that it was he who had waited outside of the house in question, and who had knocked down the civilian. He further gave the name of that civilian, who was the son of one of the prominent officials of the state government.
"Why did you strike him, Mr. Totten?" demanded the officer in charge.
"Because, sir, the fellow had grossly insulted a young lady whom I felt bound to avenge."
"Who is the young lady?"
"Am I obliged, sir, to give her name in the matter?"
"It will be better, Mr. Totten. You may be sure that your statement will be treated with all the consideration and confidence possible."
Totten thereupon explained that the young woman in question was his cousin. Totten, who was an orphan, had been brought up by an aunt who had but one child of her own, the young woman in question. When Totten had won an appointment to the Naval Academy, the aunt and cousin had decided to move to Annapolis sooner than have their little family broken up.
"How did you come to be outside the Academy grounds last evening, Mr.Totten? You were not on leave to go outside."
"I took the chances and Frenched it, sir," confessed Totten candidly. "I knew that I could not get leave, and so did not ask it. But I felt that the fellow had to be punished, no matter at what hazard to myself."
"Then you considered the avenging of the insult to your cousin as being a matter of greater importance than your future career in the Navy?"
Midshipman Totten paled, but he answered bravely:
"Yes, sir; and at the same time a Naval career means nearly everything in the world to me."
Lieutenant-Commander Morrill, the new officer in charge, felt that it was difficult to rebuke a future Naval officer for defending from insult a woman dear to him.
"I shall have to pass this matter on to the commandant of midshipmen," decided the O.C. "Mr. Totten, you will go to your quarters and remain there, until further orders, save only for meal formations."
"Very good, sir," replied the fourth classman saluting.
"That is all, Mr. Totten."
"Very good, sir."
Within half an hour, Dave, Dan and Joyce knew that the unknown midshipman had come forward and announced himself, but they did not hear the story of the reason back of Totten's attack. They heard, however, that Totten had not heard of their predicament until just after chapel call.
The commandant of midshipmen sent for Mr. Totten. That official, however, after hearing the story, felt that the matter was one for the superintendent. The superintendent did not send for Totten and question him, but sent, instead, for the civilians who had lodged the complaint the evening before. He sent also for young Crane the man Totten had named, and who had not been among the complainants of the evening before.
"Mr. Crane," announced the superintendent, "you know, of course, the name of the midshipman who assaulted and knocked you down before the other three midshipmen interfered in the matter?"
"Er—er—possibly I do," confessed Crane, reddening.
"Mr. Crane, if you wish us to deal frankly with you, you must accord the same treatment to the officials of the Naval Academy," replied the superintendent coldly.
"I—I—personally do not desire to press any complaint," continued youngCrane. "I am sorry that my friends took such a step."
"Then you consider, Mr. Crane," pressed the superintendent, "that the knock-down blow you received from a midshipman was in the nature of a merited punishment?"
"I—I won't say that," cried Crane quickly. "No, sir! I won't admit it!"
"Then, as we know that Midshipman Totten was your assailant," continued the superintendent, "we shall have to place that young man on trial. We shall be obliged to summon you as a witness at that trial, Mr. Crane."
"But I have no intention, sir, of appearing as a witness," blustered that young man.
"Mr. Crane, you can have no choice in the matter. If we summon you, you can be brought here from any part of the United States."
"I—I—can't the matter be dropped, sir?" urged the young man anxiously.
"Not unless you confess yourself in the wrong, and exonerate Mr. Totten. In any other event the case will have to come to trial before a court-martial, and you, Mr. Crane, since we are certain that you possess material evidence, will be forced to appear as a witness."
Mr. Crane looked almost as uncomfortable as he felt.
"Mr. Totten," continued the superintendent, "states that you grossly insulted his cousin, a young woman, and that he met you on purpose to avenge that insult."
"There—there—was some trouble about a young woman," admitted Crane."But I am a gentleman, sir."
"I am not expected to decide the last question that you have raised," replied the superintendent dryly. "All that concerns me in the matter is whether you exonerate Mr. Totten, or whether you do not. If you do not, the midshipman must state his case fully before a court-martial, at which you will be one of the important witnesses."
"I exonerate Mr. Totten," replied Crane in a very low tone.
"Do you exonerate him completely?" "Ye-es, sir."
"Then Mr. Totten's offense will be reduced to one or two-simple breaches of discipline," went on the superintendent.
"But see here, sir," interposed one of the other young men, "are your midshipmen to be allowed to go about pounding whom they like? Are they to be swashbucklers and bullies?"
"Very decidedly not, sir," replied the superintendent in a voice almost thunderous. "The midshipmen of the United States Naval Academy must conduct themselves as gentlemen at all times."
"Did they do that," urged the last speaker, "when they sailed into us as they did?"
"Why did your friends go to the assistance of Mr. Crane?" asked the superintendent.
"Be—because," stammered the spokesman, "your midshipman had knockedCrane down and was misusing him."
"Did you, the friends of Mr. Crane, consider it the act of gentlemen for several to rush in and attack one man?"
That left the callers rather breathless.
"Now, as to our other three midshipmen," pursued the superintendent, "at most they only rushed in to see fair play. They did not make a hostile move until they saw a whole crowd of you attacking one midshipman. Gentlemen, I am quite ready to leave it to a jury of any intelligent citizens as to whether the offending midshipmen or yourselves displayed the more gallantry and honor. For you have all admitted doing something that is not consistent with the highest standards of a gentleman, while our accused midshipmen have no such reproach against them."
"Then your midshipmen are to get off, and to be encouraged to repeat such conduct?" demanded the spokesman of the Crane party.
"No. On the contrary, they will be punished for whatever breaches of Naval discipline they have committed. Considering what you gentlemen have admitted, however, I do not believe you would have any standing as witnesses before a court-martial. I therefore advise you all to drop your complaint. Yet if you insist on a complaint, then I will see to it that Midshipman Totten is brought to trial."
Crane and his associates felt, very quickly and keenly, that they would cut but sorry figures in such a trial. They therefore begged to withdraw their former complaint. When they had departed the superintendent smiled at his reflection in the glass opposite.
Before supper all of the midshipmen involved knew their fate. They were restored to full liberty. Darrin, Dalzell and Joyce were again rebuked for having taken such elaborate pains to escape recognizing Totten at the time of the encounter. Beyond the lecture by the commandant of midshipmen, each of the trio was further punished by the imposition of ten demerits.
In Frenching and in taking justice into his own hands Midshipman Totten was held to have erred. However, the nature of his grievance and the fact that he was only a new fourth classman were taken into consideration. For Frenching he was punished with twenty-five demerits; for the assault on a civilian, considering all the circumstances, he was let off with ten additional demerits.
Yet, somehow, all of the midshipmen involved felt their punishment very lightly. They could not escape the conviction that the Naval Academy authorities did not regard them as especially guilty offenders.
"We've got you back on the gridiron, at any rate," exclaimed Hepson exultantly. "We of the football squad wish that we might be permitted to divide your demerits up among ourselves."
"You might suggest that little point to the commandant of midshipmen," grinned Dan.
"And get jolly well trounced for our impudence," grimaced Midshipman Hepson. "No, thank you; though you criminals have our utmost sympathy, we will let matters rest where they are at present. Only a fool tries to change well enough into worse."