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Title: Ralph Osborn, Midshipman at Annapolis: A Story of Life at the U.S. Naval Academy

Author: Edward L. Beach

Illustrator: Frank T. Merrill

Release date: March 13, 2020 [eBook #61610]

Language: English

Credits: Produced by MWS, Craig Kirkwood, and the Online Distributed
        Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was
        produced from images generously made available by The
        Internet Archive/American Libraries.)


*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK RALPH OSBORN, MIDSHIPMAN AT ANNAPOLIS: A STORY OF LIFE AT THE U.S. NAVAL ACADEMY ***




Produced by MWS, Craig Kirkwood, and the Online Distributed
Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was
produced from images generously made available by The
Internet Archive/American Libraries.)






Transcriber’s Notes:

Text enclosed by underscores is in italics (_italics_) and ^{} encloses
superscripted material.

Additional Transcriber’s Notes are at the end.

       *       *       *       *       *

Ralph Osborn--Midshipman at Annapolis

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: “You did well, sir”]




Ralph Osborn--Midshipman at Annapolis


  _A STORY OF LIFE AT THE
  U. S. NAVAL ACADEMY_

  By LIEUT. COMMANDER
  EDWARD L. BEACH, U. S. NAVY
  _Author of “An Annapolis Youngster,” etc._

  ILLUSTRATED BY
  FRANK T. MERRILL

  [Illustration]

  W. A. WILDE COMPANY
  BOSTON CHICAGO

       *       *       *       *       *

_Copyrighted, 1909_ BY W. A. WILDE COMPANY

_All rights reserved_

RALPH OSBORN--MIDSHIPMAN AT ANNAPOLIS




PREFACE


The purpose of this story is to bring before the American youth who
read it a correct portrayal of midshipman life at Annapolis, to bring
out in story form the routine of drills, studies and customs of our
Naval Academy, the discipline there undergone by American midshipmen
and the environment in which they live and which controls them from the
time they enter.

“The Osborn Demonstration” of the Pythagorean problem may not be
new. It hardly seems reasonable that such a simple solving of this
ancient problem should be discovered at this late date. However, it
is certainly shorter and more graphic than any given in present day
geometry text-books. Some search has been made, but up to the present
no evidence has been found showing previous knowledge of this method of
demonstration.

Should this story create any interest in Ralph Osborn and his friends
it may here be stated that they have all lived. They were not the first
nor will they be the last to have trials and triumphs at Annapolis.

  EDWARD LATIMER BEACH,
  _Lieutenant-Commander,
  United States Navy_.

_United States Ship Montana._




CONTENTS


       I. A COMPETITIVE EXAMINATION FOR THE NAVAL ACADEMY           11

      II. MR. THOMAS G. SHORT AND HIS MAN                           21

     III. SHORT’S METHOD OF PASSING AN EXAMINATION                  33

      IV. SHORT’S NAVAL CAREER IS SHORT                             44

       V. HIMSKIHUMSKONSKI                                          55

      VI. THE SUMMER PRACTICE CRUISE BEGINS                         65

     VII. MAN OVERBOARD                                             76

    VIII. BOLLUP’S WATCH IN A QUEER PLACE                           88

      IX. “INDIGNANT FOURTH CLASSMAN”                              101

       X. “THE OSBORN DEMONSTRATION”                               113

      XI. THIRD CLASSMAN OSBORN                                    122

     XII. CHIEF WATER TENDER HESTER                                132

    XIII. OILER COLLINS JUMPS SHIP                                 145

     XIV. RALPH IS KIDNAPPED                                       156

      XV. RALPH BREAKFASTS WITH HIS CAPTAIN                        164

     XVI. A BOILER EXPLOSION                                       173

    XVII. THIRD CLASSMEN ELECT CLASS OFFICERS                      187

   XVIII. “PROFESSOR MOEHLER IS A LIAR AND A FOOL”                 198

     XIX. “OSBORN NEVER WROTE IT, SIR”                             209

      XX. HIMSKI SAVES RALPH                                       219

     XXI. “CREELTON, I BELIEVE YOU ARE THE MAN”                    230

    XXII. RALPH AT BOLLUP’S HOME                                   241

   XXIII. RALPH SAVES BOLLUP FROM DISMISSAL                        252

    XXIV. RALPH HAS A JOKE PLAYED ON HIM BY A CANDIDATE            262

     XXV. RALPH COURT-MARTIALED FOR HAZING                         275

    XXVI. RALPH IS DISMISSED BY SENTENCE OF GENERAL COURT MARTIAL  289

   XXVII. HIMSKI AND COMPANY ARE JOYFULLY ASTONISHED               300

  XXVIII. FIRST CLASS LEAVE AT HAMPDEN GROVE                       309

    XXIX. “TURN OUT ON THIS FLOOR. TURN OUT, TURN OUT”             320

     XXX. THE THIEF UNMASKED                                       333

    XXXI. RALPH’S LOST WATCH IS FOUND                              346

   XXXII. RALPH FINDS HIS UNCLE AT LAST                            359




ILLUSTRATIONS


                                                PAGE

  “You did well, sir”  _Frontispiece_             80

  “They are not my papers”                        43

  He saw the man just ahead and on the port bow
    swimming frantically                         146

  “You may be the man”                           235

  Ralph threw himself on Bollup and caught him
    around the waist                             330

       *       *       *       *       *

Ralph Osborn--Midshipman at Annapolis




CHAPTER I A COMPETITIVE EXAMINATION FOR THE NAVAL ACADEMY


“Father,” said Ralph Osborn, looking up from the book he had been
reading, “I want to go to the Naval Academy.”

“Why, Ralph, how did you happen to think of that?” asked his father
putting down his paper and giving to the earnest youth at his side his
sympathetic attention; “what has attracted you to the naval life?”

“Father, you’ve always talked about my going to college and studying
to be a lawyer. I’d much rather be a naval officer than a lawyer,
and besides I don’t see how you can afford to send me to college.
I’ll finish high school in a few months and then must look for some
position; you can’t hope to be able to send me to college next year.”

“I’m afraid not, Ralph,” returned his father; “but you might go into a
lawyer’s office; many of our best lawyers have never been to college.”

“That was the old way, father, but nowadays practically all lawyers
are college graduates. A lawyer of to-day who has not had college
training is tremendously handicapped and must be a genius to be really
successful. And besides, father, I have never felt I wanted to be a
lawyer; my tastes are more mathematical.”

“Well, what has mathematics got to do with being a naval officer?”
queried the father, Ralph Osborn senior.

“Why, father, Jack Farrer says, and he ought to know, that engineering,
and electricity, and ship-building, are founded upon mathematics, and
the naval officer has everything to do with these sciences. And if I
could go to the Naval Academy I’d get a splendid education without its
costing you anything. And after I was graduated if I didn’t want to
be an officer I’d have a splendid profession. Now, father, won’t you
please help me?”

Mr. Osborn sighed. “I wish I could, Ralph,” he said, “but I don’t know
how I could. It’s a difficult thing to get into the Naval Academy; you
must get the congressman of your district to appoint you, and we don’t
even know our congressman. Such an appointment is generally given by a
congressman to the son of some close friend, and----”

“Yes,” interrupted Ralph, eagerly, “but sometimes the congressman
orders a competitive examination. Now Jack Farrer finally graduates
from the Naval Academy next June; you know it is a six years’ course,
four at the Academy and then two years at sea aboard a cruising ship,
and his graduation will make a vacancy at Annapolis for the Toledo
district. Now, father, won’t you get some friend of yours who knows
Congressman Evans to write to him and ask the appointment for me? And
if Mr. Evans won’t do that, ask that the appointment be thrown open to
competitive examination? Please do, father.”

Ralph’s brown eyes more than his words imploringly begged his father.
The latter was silent for a few moments, then said: “Ralph, I’ll ask
my employer, Mr. Spencer, to write to Mr. Evans to-morrow, but don’t
be too hopeful. There will undoubtedly be many others who have greater
claims upon Mr. Evans.”

“Oh, thank you, father,” cried the now delighted Ralph. “If Mr. Evans
won’t give me the appointment but opens it to a competitive examination
I’m sure I’ll have a good chance of winning it.”

“Well, I’ll see Mr. Spencer to-morrow. By the way, Ralph, to-day I
received a letter and a present from your Uncle George.”

“From my Uncle George!” exclaimed the young man, in great surprise.
“Why, I’d forgotten I had an Uncle George; I’ve never seen him, and
you haven’t spoken of him for years. What did he say in his letter, and
where is he? Tell me something about him.”

“Here is his letter. I hadn’t heard from or of him for ten years. His
letter is absolutely brief. He says he is well and is doing well. He
enclosed a check for two hundred dollars as a remembrance. He says that
for the next week only his address will be the general delivery of the
New York City post-office.”

“Two hundred dollars!” repeated Ralph, enthusiastically. “Why, father,
if I am admitted to the Naval Academy that is just the amount I will
have to deposit for my outfit. But why have you never told me anything
about my Uncle George?”

“It’s a sad story,” replied Mr. Osborn, “and there isn’t much to tell.
He was one of the most attractive young men in the city of Toledo,
twenty years ago. Your grandfather was strict with him, and at times
harsh, too harsh, I now think. However, one day about twenty years
ago, your grandfather sent your Uncle George with two thousand dollars
to deposit in a bank. Well, George turned up two hours later and said
he had been robbed. Your grandfather became very angry and said that
George had been drinking and gambling. Your uncle indignantly denied
this, and your grandfather in a passion struck him. It was an awful
time. George left the house, said he would never return. I’ll never
forget his white face. He asked me if I believed he had gambled that
money away. I assured him I did not. He said: ‘I thank God for your
belief in me, Ralph.’ Those were the last words he ever spoke to me.

“We never knew where he went or what became of him. At long intervals
letters would come from him, each one enclosing a draft. In each letter
he stated the amount he sent was to be applied to what he termed his
financial indebtedness to his father, but he always maintained the
money had been stolen from him. In about ten years the entire amount,
with interest, was repaid to your grandfather. Until this letter came
to-day I had not heard from him for ten years.”

“But, father, were not his letters enclosing the drafts acknowledged;
did you not write to him?”

“Of course, but each letter was returned to us.”

“Where were these letters from?”

“From different places; your Uncle George has evidently been a great
traveler. During those ten years several of his letters came from New
York; two, I think, from Norfolk, Virginia. I remember one came from
San Francisco, one from London, and one from Yokohama, Japan.”

“Now isn’t that interesting?” remarked Ralph. “Why, it almost seems
like a mystery. Perhaps he’s a millionaire and some time will come to
Toledo in his private car. But, father, what is your idea of it all?”

“I don’t know what to think, Ralph; your uncle was very proud as a
young man, and my notion is that he has had a hard time of it like the
rest of us; that he would come back here for a visit if he could do
so in style, but would not like to come back without the evidences of
prosperity. But I shall write to him immediately and ask him to visit
us. You know he may have a notion that people here imagine he used that
two thousand dollars gambling, whereas the fact is the matter was never
discussed outside of our family. Twenty years ago people wondered at
his departure but none ever learned the cause of it.”

“Father, if I get the appointment to Annapolis may I have the two
hundred dollars Uncle George has sent? I have been wondering where we
would get the money to deposit. And I would need about one hundred
dollars more; I must have some for traveling expenses and for board in
Annapolis, and I would like to go to the preparatory school there for a
month.”

Mr. Osborn smiled. “Indeed you may have the two hundred, Ralph,” he
replied, “and I will manage to find another hundred for you. But aren’t
you getting ahead a little fast? You appear to take it for granted that
there is no doubt of your getting that appointment.”

“Bully,” cried Ralph; “I’m going to get the appointment, I feel sure of
that. And I’m going to write to Uncle George right away and tell him
I’m going, or at least that I hope to go to the Naval Academy. And I’ll
tell him how grateful we are for the two hundred. Good-night, father.”

One evening, a week later, Mr. Osborn handed his son a letter, saying:
“Here’s something that may interest you, Ralph.” The latter read the
letter with great eagerness. It was as follows:

  “MY DEAR SPENCER:--

  “In reply to yours of the 9th instant would say I will have an
  appointment for Annapolis next June. I will throw this open to
  competitive examination, and if your young friend, Mr. Ralph Osborn,
  wins, and is recommended by the board of examiners, I will appoint
  him with pleasure.

  “Yours very truly,

  “JOHN H. EVANS.”

“Hurrah!” shouted Ralph. “Now I’m going in to win. I’ve several months
ahead and I’m going to study hard and review everything. I’m going to
leave high school to-morrow and study at home. Now, father, keep quiet
about this; don’t advertise the fact there’s going to be a competitive
examination. Everybody has the same chance I have to learn about the
vacancy to Annapolis and the coming competitive examination, but it
isn’t necessary that I should stir up people to try to beat me out.”

At this time Ralph Osborn was about eighteen years old. He was of
medium height and build; his eyes were brown; in them was a steadfast
earnestness that always attracted friendships and inspired confidence.
His salient characteristics were truthfulness and determination. Except
when his mother died no sorrow had ever been a part of Ralph’s life.
Time had dimmed that sorrow, and to him his mother was now a beautiful,
tender memory. His affection for his father was unbounded. The Osborns
were a good family; there had never been a better one in Toledo, but
Mr. Osborn had not been successful as a business man and now depended
for his support entirely upon the salary he earned as bookkeeper.

Ralph wrote to his uncle, and received the following letter in reply:

  “DEAR NEPHEW RALPH:--

  “I was much pleased to receive your letter, and interested to
  discover I have a nephew. I know something of Annapolis, and
  recommend it for you. I am leaving New York now but will write you
  later, and shall look forward to meeting you.

  “Your affectionate uncle,

  “GEORGE H. OSBORN.”

Mr. Osborn also received a letter from his brother in which the latter
expressed the intention of visiting Toledo, but at some future time.

“Well,” said Ralph, disgustedly, “I found a nice uncle, and now I’ve
lost him, and don’t even know where to write to him.”

For the next three months Ralph devoted himself to his studies. He
imagined the competitive examination would be in arithmetic, grammar,
geography, and spelling, and these he thoroughly reviewed.

The day came when announcement was made that there would be a
competitive examination for the Naval Academy at Annapolis, and this
was held in April. Ralph found that he had twenty-two competitors. It
is doubtful if any had done such thorough reviewing as Ralph had. The
examination lasted three days and Ralph felt he had done well.

“Father, the examination is all over,” cried Ralph, when Mr. Osborn
returned home that evening. “I suppose the results will not be
published for several days. There were twenty-three of us in all, and
it will take some time to examine and mark all the papers that were
handed in. Oh, I’m so anxious to see who gets the highest marks, I can
hardly wait.”

“Do you think you have won, Ralph?”

“I’m certain I did well. I felt I knew every question that was asked,
but of course some one may have done better.”

A few days later Ralph opened the evening newspaper, and the first
thing that met his eyes was his own name in big head-lines. It was
as follows: “Ralph Osborn, Jr., wins the Competitive Examination for
Annapolis.” And then followed a description of Ralph that was most
pleasing to that young man. He was wild with joy, and could not
contain himself. Before the night was over he had read that article
hundreds of times. And Mr. Osborn, seeing his only child in such
transports of happiness, was himself filled with joy.

Ralph received congratulations from hundreds of friends, and soon
commenced to make preparations to leave for Annapolis.

As Ralph bade Mr. Osborn good-bye in the station, little did he dream
that it was the last time he was to see that dear father alive.




CHAPTER II MR. THOMAS G. SHORT AND HIS MAN


Ralph Osborn arrived in Annapolis in May, just a month before the
entrance examinations were to take place. He secured room and board at
the price of eight dollars a week, and immediately enrolled himself for
one month’s tuition in Professor Wingate’s preparatory school. Here the
special instruction given consisted in studying previous examination
questions, and Ralph soon felt he was well prepared for his coming
ordeal.

At this time Annapolis was full of visitors, and the number of these
increased daily. There were here many of the friends and relations
of the midshipmen soon to graduate, and also more than a hundred and
seventy candidates were distributed in the different boarding-houses
of the old town. One of these aspirants came into immediate notoriety
because apparently he possessed enormous wealth and made much noise
in spending his money. His name was Short; he arrived in Annapolis in
a private car and immediately rented a handsome, well-furnished house
in which he installed a retinue of servants. Short was an orphan. He
had inherited millions, and though nominally under the control of a
guardian, he actually ruled the latter with an imperious will that
brooked neither check nor interference. Though he was not aware of it,
Short as a midshipman was an impossible contemplation. First, he was
utterly unprincipled; secondly, he was uncontrollable. But he made an
effort to prepare himself, engaged special tutors, and promised them
large bonuses if he passed the examinations successfully. A week before
the examinations were held he was frankly told he would certainly fail
in mathematics. Short immediately went to the telegraph office and sent
several messages to New York. The next day two flashily-dressed men
came to Annapolis, had several long talks with Short and received money
from him.

Short enjoyed company and soon after he was domiciled in Annapolis he
had invited several of the candidates to live with him as his guests.
As these young men were earnestly preparing for their examinations,
their presence probably influenced Short to study more than he
otherwise would have done.

A few mornings before the day set for the commencement of the
examinations, Short at breakfast asked one of his guests to come with
him to the library. With them was also one of the men who had come down
from New York. Short was in particular good humor.

As soon as they reached the library, Short turned to the young
candidate, and without any preliminary words said abruptly, “The jig is
up. I’ve got you.”

The young man spoken to turned pale and trembled violently. “What do
you mean?” he gasped.

Short laughed. “I mean you’re caught,” he replied. “I’ve been missing
things of late and spotted you for the thief. The two hundred dollars
you took at two o’clock this morning was a plant for you. Every bill
was marked, and there were two detectives hidden in the room who saw
you steal the money. I’ve a warrant for your arrest; you’ll land in the
pen for this instead of becoming a midshipman.”

The young man addressed dropped helplessly into a near-by chair, and
hysterically cried, “I didn’t do it. This is a put up job.”

Short grinned. “Perhaps,” he said. “But I hate to be hard on a chum.
There’s a way out of it for you, though, if you will do exactly what I
say.”

“I didn’t do it; you can’t prove I did,” exclaimed the young man.

“I’m not going to try to prove it,” smiled Short, in reply. “I’m just
going to have you locked up in jail; the prosecuting attorney of
Annapolis and a jury will take charge of you; but I guess you’ll live
at public expense for a few years. It’s a clear case, my boy, but I
bear you no ill will; two hundred dollars or so isn’t much to me. But
I told you there was a way out of it for you, and an easy way out of
it, too.”

“What do you mean? Oh, Short, you wouldn’t disgrace me, you wouldn’t
ruin me?” implored the young man in trembling tones.

“Stop your sniveling,” commanded Short. “Now do you want to get out of
this and have no one know anything about it or do you want to go to
jail? Take your choice, and be quick about it.”

“I’ll do anything. What do you want me to do?”

“First, I want you to write a confession stating you stole the two
hundred dollars and other amounts from Thomas G. Short.”

“I’ll not do it.”

“Oh, well, then, go to jail; I’m tired of bothering with you.”

“Oh, Short, don’t. What would you do with that confession?”

“I don’t mind telling you. I’d lock it up and no one would ever see it.
But I’d own you, do you understand? I’m going to be the most popular
man at the Academy; I’m going to be class president and cut a wide
swathe here. Now you’d help me and I’ll need help. That’s all you’ll
have to do. And there’ll be a lot of money and good times in it for
you. Come, write me that confession. You’ll never hear of it again;
you’ll simply know I’m your boss and you’ll have to do what I tell
you.”

The hapless young candidate immediately brightened up and taking pen
and paper rapidly wrote a few lines. Short read what he had written,
and then, in a satisfied manner, said, “That’s sensible. You’ll never
regret it.”

The young man then said, “Short, here’s your two hundred. Thank you so
much for your goodness to me; but I can’t help taking things, I really
can’t; I’m what they call a kleptomaniac.”

“Oh, keep the two hundred,” said Short, folding up the paper the young
man had written, and putting it in his pocket. “Now see here, I can’t
afford to have my right-hand man get caught stealing and you surely
will be if you keep it up. Whenever the feeling comes over you again
come to me and I’ll give you fifty or so. Now skip out. I’ve some
private matters I want to talk over with my friend here.”

The young candidate returned the two hundred dollars to his pocket
and left the room in an apparently happy frame of mind. With him the
crime of a thing was not in the guilty act but in the publicity and
punishment following detection.

“You’ve got that fellow good and hard,” remarked the other man who had
remained in the room with them.

“Yes, and he’ll stay got,” returned Short, drily. “Well, what have you
to report? Are you going to get the math exam for me?”

“You bet, we’ll have it to-night sure thing. We’ve got it located,
have a complete plan of the building, and Sunny Jim, the greatest
safe cracker in the world, will get it to-night. Nothing less than a
burglar-proof time-lock could keep him out. He’ll get here to-night
on the six o’clock train and you’ll have a copy of your mathematical
examination before this time to-morrow, and no one will ever be the
wiser unless you choose to tell. Sunny Jim will not know who it’s for
and he’ll lock up everything behind him when he leaves. He’ll not
leave a trace behind him and no one will suspect the building has been
entered.”

“Good. I’ll depend upon you. I can pass in the other subjects, and will
in mathematics if I get hold of the examination several days ahead of
time. That’s all for the present.”

The examinations were to begin on Monday, the first of June. Ralph
Osborn felt well prepared and confident, yet he dreaded the ordeal and
longed for it to be over.

On Friday night preceding the examinations, Ralph was in his room
studying. At nine o’clock there was a sharp rap at his door.

“Come in,” he called out; and a man he had never seen before entered
and said: “Mr. Osborn?”

“Yes; what can I do for you?” replied Ralph, feeling an instinctive
dislike for the coarse-featured man he was addressing, and wondering
what could have brought him to his room.

“You are a candidate, I believe, Mr. Osborn?”

“Yes,” replied Ralph, “and I’m very busy studying my mathematics.”

“Just so,” said the stranger with a knowing look, and taking a step
nearer. “And your mathematics examination is going to be difficult. I’m
sure you’ll not pass--unless you get my assistance.”

“Who are you, and what are you talking about?” asked Ralph sharply.

“Never mind who I am,” retorted the stranger, unfolding a paper, “but
do you see this? It is the examination in mathematics. You can have it
for fifty dollars.”

Ralph sprang at the stranger, his eyes dilated with wondering
indignation, his soul aflame at the infamous proposal made to him. His
breath came short and he almost choked. Nothing like this had ever
entered his life and he was utterly unprepared with word or thought.

“The examination in mathematics!” he stammered as he started toward him.

“Take it easy,” smiled the stranger; “others have it, why shouldn’t
you?”

At that moment there came a rap at the door and a black, woolly head
was thrust into the room.

“Mistah Osborn,” said the intruder, “dere’s a telegram boy what’s got a
telegraph fo’ you; he says dere’s fo’ty cents to collec’.”

“Excuse me for a minute,” said Ralph to the stranger, “while I see
the telegraph messenger.” As he hurried out of the room and down
the stairs, he felt glad of the interruption as it gave him time to
gather his scattered thoughts. What should he do? He was in a terrible
quandary. Somehow he did not doubt the fact that the stranger’s claim
to possess the examination was correct. His whole nature revolted at
the notion of passing an examination by such underhand means; he was
horrified, but he did not know what to do. If he refused to take the
examination the stranger would leave with it. And if he reported the
occurrence without proof other than his unsupported word he was afraid
nothing would come of his report.

He received the telegram which was of little importance, and still in
perplexity as to what to do, he started to return when his eyes fell
upon a telephone in the hall. A sudden inspiration came to him. He
took down the receiver and said: “Central, give me the house of the
superintendent of the Naval Academy immediately.”

Soon a voice came which said: “This is the superintendent; what is it?”

“Is this the superintendent of the Naval Academy?”

“It is. What do you want with him?”

“I am Ralph Osborn, a candidate.”

“What is it, Mr. Osborn?”

“Sir, I am at number twenty-six Hanover Street. There is a man in my
room who has a paper which he says is the examination in mathematics
the candidates are to have next Monday morning. He wants to sell it for
fifty dollars. What shall I do, sir?”

“Keep him there. Offer a less price, haggle with him, but keep him
there. Lock your door if you can, and open it when you hear four loud,
distinct knocks.”

“All right, sir.”

Ralph immediately went to his room. His mind was now perfectly clear
and determined. He had to kill time and he proposed to do it. First he
deliberately rearranged the chairs; then he made a great pretence of
getting ice-water for his visitor. Then he engaged in conversation, and
asked all kinds of questions. Finally his visitor became impatient. “Do
you want it or not?” he cried. “If you don’t, say so. I’ve no time to
fool away.”

“Yes, I want it, but not for fifty dollars.”

The stranger got up to leave. Ralph begged him to reduce the price.
When Ralph saw he could not delay the man longer, he jumped to the
door, locked it and quickly put the key in his pocket.

“What are you doing?” angrily demanded the intruder, advancing upon
Ralph.

“I’m going to get that paper at a cheaper price,” returned Ralph,
picking up a heavy andiron with both hands. “Now keep away or you’ll
get hurt.”

“You’ll have a big job if you think you can stop me from leaving,”
shouted the man with a curse. “Open that door or I’ll break your head.”

“Keep off, or I’ll brain you,” cried Ralph, excitedly, but with
menacing determination; just then there were four loud knocks on the
door. Ralph quickly unlocked the door and threw it open. In walked two
officers, one of magnificent presence, with two silver stars on his
coat collar and broad gold bands on his sleeves. With the officers were
two Naval Academy watchmen and an Annapolis policeman.

The superintendent, for it was he, looked at Ralph, who, with flushed
face and panting breath, the irons in hand, now felt much relieved.
The superintendent then addressed the stranger. “Who are you, sir?” he
demanded.

“A free American citizen,” returned the man sulkily, “about my own
business.”

“Officer, arrest that man on a charge of burglary. Go through his
pockets and let me see what papers he has in them.”

“I protest against this indignity,” cried the man; “you’ll pay for
this;” but his protests were unavailing. He was searched, and in a
moment a paper was handed the superintendent.

“Professor,” asked the superintendent, “is this the examination the
candidates are to have Monday?”

The officer with the superintendent looked at the paper and instantly
replied, “It is indeed, sir.”

“Very well; officer, I’d like to have you lock that man up over night.
I’ll prefer charges against him to-morrow. The watchmen will go with
you to help take him to the jail.”

And then the superintendent looked at Ralph; his steel gray eyes seemed
to pierce him through and through. He then offered Ralph his hand and
said: “Good-night, Mr. Osborn. I congratulate you; you have done well,
sir. Continue as you have begun and you will be an honor to the Navy.”

Ralph, overcome with feeling at the superintendent’s words of
commendation, could stammer but unintelligibly in reply. And for some
time after the superintendent had left, Ralph stood in the middle of
his room, andiron still firmly grasped, wondering at the exciting
events he had just experienced.

The bars of the Annapolis jail may be sufficiently strong to keep
securely negro crap shooters, but they were hardly child’s play to the
skilful Sunny Jim, who had broken through and was far away long before
morning.

A searching investigation developed no clue as to how the examination
questions had gotten adrift, but a new examination was immediately made
out and substituted for the one previously made. All in the ignorance
of Mr. Thomas G. Short, who marched to the examination Monday morning
believing that he was to make close to a perfect mark in mathematics.




CHAPTER III SHORT’S METHOD OF PASSING AN EXAMINATION


On Monday morning the candidates flocked by scores to the room in the
Naval Academy where they were to be examined. After the inspection of
their appointments each candidate was assigned to a numbered desk.
Ralph Osborn found himself at a desk numbered 153. On the desk was a
pad of paper on which he was to do his work, pencils, and the written
examination questions which this first day were in arithmetic, and
algebra as far as quadratics. Ralph picked the examination paper up and
eagerly scanned it; but in a moment a bell rang, and he heard a loud
cry of: “Attention,” uttered in an authoritative manner by an officer
in lieutenant’s uniform, who said, when complete quiet existed: “Each
candidate will number each sheet of his work in the upper left-hand
corner with the number of his desk. In no case will the candidate write
his name on any sheet; when you have finished leave all your papers on
your desk. Now go ahead with your work; you have four hours and you’ll
need it.”

There was immediately a shuffle of papers and a stirring in seats as
the candidates commenced their first test. Ralph Osborn looked the
examination paper rapidly over, and a feeling of confidence came over
him as he read. “It’s easy,” he said to himself; “I can do it all.”

He commenced to work rapidly and had just finished the first problem
when his attention was attracted by some whispered imprecations close
to, and just behind him. There at a desk numbered 155 was the candidate
whom Ralph had seen riding behind a handsome pair of horses, but to
whom he had never spoken.

It was Short; and his face was convulsed with rage, and blank with
disappointment. In his two hands was clenched the examination paper.
His eyes seemed to dart from their sockets. He looked utterly
confounded.

Ralph was surprised but didn’t have any time to waste on the young man
behind him, so he resumed his work. He had finished the third question
when he felt his chair kicked from behind, and then heard a whispered
voice say:

“Sh. Don’t look around. Lend me your papers; I wish to compare your
answers with mine.”

“I’ll do nothing of the kind,” returned Ralph, indignantly.

When Ralph had finished the fourth question, he felt his chair kicked
again, and then the whispered words:

“Let me have your papers for a moment. No one will see. The lieutenant
is in the other end of the room. I’ll give you one hundred dollars if
you’ll let me look at them.”

Ralph turned squarely around and deliberately eyed the young man who
had made this dishonorable proposal. He was silent a moment and then
in a low tone said: “How much did you pay for the examination you had
stolen for you, you scoundrel? Speak to me again and I’ll report you.”

Short’s whole body trembled, and fierce hatred shone from his moody
eyes. In his whole life he had never received such a defeat and such
contemptuous treatment. His feelings were almost beyond his small
powers of endurance, and this state of feeling was aggravated by a
feeling of utter powerlessness. After that he made no further effort to
speak to Ralph, and he was too far from the other candidates, and was
also afraid to try to attract their attention.

Short tried to work but only made poor headway. Even had he been in a
good humor he could not have passed the examination.

Ralph found the problems all easy and made rapid progress. After a
while Short left his seat and approached the lieutenant in charge and
asked him some trivial question. In returning, as he passed Ralph’s
desk his eyes looked at the number 153, painted in white letters on
the front of it, and a gleam of satisfaction passed over his face.
“I’ll fix that fellow, the hound, if he leaves this room before
I do,” he remarked to himself. After that Short worked fitfully,
occasionally glancing up at Ralph. He noticed with much approval that
Ralph apparently finished his work an hour before the time allowed had
expired, and was impatient when Ralph started to read his papers over,
deliberately stopping at some places to make corrections.

Half an hour before the time was up a number of the candidates had
finished and were leaving the examination room. Ralph was one of these.
He folded his papers neatly, placed them on one side of his desk, and
left the room entirely confident he had passed the examination.

As soon as Ralph Osborn had left the room Short began to arrange his
papers, and started to number each sheet. The number of his desk was
155, but instead of writing this number on the pages of his work, he
wrote on each of them the number 153, which he had seen on Ralph’s
desk. He then gathered his papers together and walked to the lieutenant
in charge. “Shall I sign my name at the bottom?” he asked.

“No, number each page with your desk number,” was the reply.

Short returned to his desk, but just as he reached Ralph’s desk he
apparently stumbled, and for a moment rested both of his hands on it,
still holding his own papers. In doing this he attracted no one’s
attention, but when he had straightened up he had Ralph’s papers in
his hand. He had quickly substituted his own for Ralph’s papers and
the papers left on Ralph’s desk, though numbered 153, were in reality
Short’s. Short now carefully erased the upper part of the figure three,
of the number 153, on each page of Ralph’s papers, and made a five out
of it. He then carefully and neatly arranged these papers on his desk,
and with an exultant feeling of success and gratified revenge, he left
the room. He knew his own papers would never pass him, and rightly
judged from the rapid way in which Ralph had worked that the latter
would be successful.

The examinations were all finished Wednesday, and Ralph was confident
he had passed, and therefore was exultant. But late that afternoon he
received a telegram as follows:

“Your father has been seriously injured in an accident. But little
hope. Come home at once.”

This was signed by his father’s friend, Mr. Spencer.

In anguish of grief and fear Ralph left by the next train; and late the
next night was in Toledo but only to see the dear father in his coffin.
The boy’s grief was pitiable. He felt he would never be comforted.
The funeral was held two days later, and then the saddened young man
returned to Annapolis. There was no question in his mind but what he
had been completely successful in his examinations.

Upon his return, which was Monday, he immediately went into the Academy
grounds and there met a young man, dressed in civilian’s clothes with
uniform cap. He recognized him as a candidate he had known in the
preparatory school, Bollup by name.

“Hello, Bollup,” said Ralph. “I see you’ve passed all right. I knew you
would, in spite of the way you used to talk.”

“Thanks, Osborn,” returned Bollup. “I’m awfully sorry you didn’t
get through. I hope you’ll get another appointment next year. That
nine-tenths in math of yours was certainly a big surprise to me, and to
you, too, I guess; you thought you had done so well in it.”

“What are you talking about?” asked Ralph, hastily. “I’m sure I passed
in everything, but I couldn’t wait to see the marks; I had to go to my
father’s funeral in Toledo.” And Ralph’s eyes filled with tears. “What
do you mean about my nine-tenths in mathematics? Surely that wasn’t my
mark; why, that’s utterly ridiculous.”

“Look here, old fellow,” said Bollup, uneasily, “I don’t want to be the
one to spread bad news, but on the bulletin-board in main quarters, you
are credited with having made nine-tenths only in math, and are marked
as having been rejected for that reason by the Academic Board of the
Academy.”

“My heavens,” ejaculated Ralph, thunderstruck at this information.
“Look here, Bollup, there’s a mistake about that. I’ll bet I got
over three-fifty on that math exam. Nine-tenths? Why that’s simply
preposterous. Let’s look at that bulletin.”

It may here be remarked that at the Naval Academy marks range from 0,
a total failure, to 4.00, which is perfect. 2.50, equal to 62-1/2 per
cent, is the passing mark in all subjects.

Ralph and Bollup were soon standing before the bulletin-board and then
Ralph realized that Bollup’s news was only too true.

“Too bad, old fellow,” commiserated Bollup. “I’m awfully sorry and
disappointed.”

“There’s a mistake, I tell you,” returned Ralph, with staring eyes. “If
my published mark had been two-thirty I might doubt my own judgment,
but nine-tenths,--why that’s entirely impossible.”

“I do hope so, Osborn; but what are you going to do about it?”

“I’m going direct to the superintendent. I don’t know what else to do.”

“What, the superintendent himself? He won’t see you. I wouldn’t dare to
go to see him myself.”

“That’s just where I’m going,” said Ralph, determinedly, “and I’m going
right away, too.”

In a few minutes Ralph was at the door of the superintendent’s office,
and said to the orderly: “Will you ask the superintendent if he will
please see Ralph Osborn on a matter of great importance?” A moment
later he was told to walk in.

The distinguished officer greeted Ralph kindly. “I’m sorry you failed,
Mr. Osborn,” he commenced. “I was so impressed with the way you
handled that stolen examination affair that I wanted you to pass, and
I personally ordered the result of your examination to be sent to me.
You made excellent marks in everything except mathematics; had you made
anything over a two in that I would have waived a slight deficiency.
But with only a nine-tenths in mathematics it was impossible to pass
you.”

“Sir,” said Ralph, “I wish to report that a great mistake has
been made. I ought to have been given at least three-five on that
examination. Of this I’m absolutely certain. I worked correctly nearly
every problem. I compared my answers with those of other candidates
and I can state positively that I made at least three-five on that
examination. I cannot be mistaken in this matter.”

“The papers are marked independently by two different officers, Mr.
Osborn; it’s not possible such a glaring mistake could be made by two
different people.”

“I can’t explain it, sir; but I know I got the right answer to nearly
all the questions.”

“Why have you been so late in reporting this matter?” inquired the
superintendent, looking at him keenly.

“I have just learned it, sir. My father was killed in an accident and
I left the day the examinations were finished and have just returned.”
There was a break in Ralph’s voice as he spoke.

“I’m very sorry indeed. I’ll look into this matter. Be at my office at
two o’clock.”

“Thank you, sir; I will.”

Ralph was there at the time appointed and was immediately called before
the superintendent. “Mr. Osborn,” said the latter, “I have had your
mathematical papers read over again by a third officer who did not
know the original mark given them, and he marked them eight-tenths. He
says they are very poor. I’m sorry, but I can do nothing more for you.
Good-day, sir.”

There was an air of finality in the superintendent’s manner and voice.

“Sir,” said Ralph, now desperate, “I have to report that I answered
nearly every question correctly,”--a look of displeasure crossed the
superintendent’s face,--“I beg of you to let me see my papers.”

“I will do so immediately. Take a seat outside, please.” Then sending
for his aide, a lieutenant, he said, “Telephone for the head of the
department of mathematics, Professor Scott, to bring to my office
immediately Candidate Ralph Osborn’s examination papers in mathematics.”

A few minutes later an officer came in with some papers in his hand.
“Admiral, these are Candidate Osborn’s papers,” he said.

“Professor, will you please convince Mr. Osborn that those papers are
worth no more than nine-tenths?” said the admiral, continuing his
writing.

“That will be easy,” smiled the professor in reply. “Now, Mr. Osborn,
see here.”

Ralph went eagerly to the professor’s side, and took the papers from
his hand. “Oh!” he cried, in a tone that startled the professor and
the superintendent. “Are these the papers, sir, which have caused my
rejection?” he demanded in a breathless tone.

“Why, yes, of course they are; they are your papers.”

“They are not my papers, sir. That is not my work. The handwriting
is not mine. I never saw these papers before, sir.” And turning to
the admiral, his face aglow with excitement and indignation, he said,
“Surely you will not keep me out of the Academy on account of this poor
work which belongs to some other person.”

[Illustration: “They are not my papers”]

“These are your papers,” maintained the professor, looking indignant.
“They were on your desk; each one, you see, is numbered 153, your
number.”

“They are not my papers,” insisted Ralph, “and no person on earth can
prove them to be. Sir, I request this matter be further investigated.”

“A mistake is impossible,” exclaimed the professor.

“Is it possible for an examination paper to be stolen before the
examination occurs?” asked Ralph suddenly.

“By George, Mr. Osborn, we’ll look into this matter,” said the
superintendent, now full of interest. “I’ll send for your other papers
and compare the writing. But can you imagine how this could have
happened?”

Then came vividly to Ralph’s mind the angry, revengeful face of the
man behind him in the examination room the week before. Recalling the
number of the desk back of his, a thought flashed through him.

“Yes, sir, I can,” he quietly said. “I can imagine how a person doing
poorly could have marked his sheets with my desk number, and then could
have exchanged his papers with mine, erased my desk number, and on my
sheets write his own number. I would ask that the papers of number 155
be brought here.”




CHAPTER IV SHORT’S NAVAL CAREER IS SHORT


“Why do you ask for the papers marked 155?” inquired the superintendent.

“That was the number of the desk nearest my own, the desk just behind
mine,” explained Ralph.

“Did you have any conversation with the candidate at desk number 155?
Was there anything in his manner, or did he do anything that now leads
you to believe he might have exchanged his papers for yours?”

“Yes, sir.”

“What was it, please? Tell all the circumstances.”

“Soon after I commenced my work last Monday morning,” began Ralph, “my
attention was attracted by a noise of heavy breathing, and I heard some
whispered swearing. I turned around. The candidate behind me looked
wild with anger. Then he whispered to me to let him have my sheets as I
finished with them, to compare the answers, he said, but I wouldn’t do
it. Then a little later he kicked my chair and whispered to me that he
would give me one hundred dollars if I would give him my papers.”

“What did you say to that?”

“I called him a scoundrel and asked him what he paid for the
examination he had had stolen, and told him if he said anything more to
me I would report him.”

“You should have done so anyway, Mr. Osborn.”

“Yes, sir, I know I should, but I was thinking of nothing but my
examination.”

“Do you know the candidate’s name?”

“I think it’s Short, sir; I don’t know anything about him except I have
heard people say he is a millionaire.”

“Mr. Osborn, please sit down at that desk and write a complete
statement of what you have just told me.” And calling his aide, he
directed that all of the entrance examination papers of Candidates
Short and Osborn be brought to him. “Did Mr. Short pass the other
examinations?” he asked.

“Yes, sir,” replied the professor, “and he was sworn in as a midshipman
and is now aboard the _Santee_.”

“Send for Mr. Short,” directed the superintendent.

By the time Ralph had finished writing the statement required, the
examination papers which the superintendent had sent for were brought
to the office.

“Here are Mr. Short’s mathematical papers, admiral,” remarked the
professor. “He did very well indeed; he made 3.63.”

“May I look at those papers, sir?” asked Ralph, eagerly. He took but
one rapid glance at them, and then said simply, but with glistening
eyes: “That is my work, sir; I left those papers on my desk. Each sheet
was marked 153 when I left the room.”

“They are marked 155, sir,” said the professor.

“Will you please see if the last figure on each sheet does not look as
though it had been erased?” asked Ralph.

The superintendent took the sheets, and without remark, deliberately
examined each number with a magnifying glass. Then he said slowly:
“Professor, the last figure of the number 155 shows evidence on each
sheet of having been erased. There is no doubt whatever of this fact.
And on some of the pages you can plainly see that the figure 3 was
erased and made into a 5. See for yourself.”

“This is unquestionably so,” remarked the professor, after deliberate
scrutiny.

“Now compare these papers,” continued the superintendent, “with the
examinations in the other subjects; they are all here, I believe.”

The two officers were much interested. After a few moments, the admiral
said: “It is certain that the mathematical papers marked 155 were
written by the same person who wrote these papers on my left hand. Now
we’ll see who are credited with having written these respective piles.”

It was soon evident to whom the respective piles belonged, and the
superintendent, turning to Ralph, said, “Mr. Osborn, there isn’t
a doubt but what you are entitled to 3.63 on your examination in
mathematics; and it is certain that Mr. Short should have received the
nine-tenths. But I’ll make a further test. Professor, please send for
the officer who was in the examination room when these young men were
examined.”

“Yes, sir. It was Lieutenant Brooks; I’ll have him here in a moment.”

Before long Lieutenant Brooks appeared in the superintendent’s office:
and a moment later the orderly came in, saluted, and said: “Sir, there
be a new midshipman, Mr. Short, sir, who says he was directed to report
to you.”

“Show him in immediately.”

Short entered, dressed in civilian’s clothes and midshipman cap. On
seeing Ralph he gave a start and turned pale, and seemed to tremble.

“Are you Midshipman Short?” demanded the superintendent.

“Yes, sir.”

“Mr. Brooks, have you ever seen this midshipman before?”

Lieutenant Brooks looked intently at the young man. Then he said: “Yes,
sir, I remember that half an hour before his examination in mathematics
had finished, last Monday, he came up to me with his papers and asked
me if he should sign his name. I told him no; there was really no need
whatever for his question; full instructions had been given.”

“Thank you; that’s all, Mr. Brooks. Now, professor, you will take these
two young men and give them immediately the same examination they had
last Monday, and when they have finished, bring the papers to me.”

Ralph was exultantly happy. Terror was exhibited in every feature
of Short’s face; he was nervous and frightened, and hesitation and
uncertainty were in every motion he made.

“Wh--wh--what’s the matter, sir?” he faltered. “I--I have finished my
examination in mathematics; I made 3.63, sir.”

“Which is your paper, sir?” demanded the superintendent, “this numbered
153, or this numbered 155?”

“This, this one, sir,” indicating the latter.

“Then will you please tell me why the number 155 bears evidence of
erasure on every sheet? And can you explain why the handwriting of the
papers marked with your number and which you claim as your own, should
be in such utterly different handwriting from that of your papers in
geography, grammar and history? Are not these your papers, sir?” And
the superintendent handed him the mathematical papers marked 153, for
which Ralph Osborn had received the mark of nine-tenths. “These papers
are certainly in the exact handwriting of your papers in the other
subjects, and yet they are charged against Mr. Osborn.”

Short was unable to speak, and he stood before the superintendent
awkward and abashed. He dared not, could not answer.

“Professor,” continued the superintendent, “start these two young men
on this same examination immediately; take them into the board room
across the hall.”

Ralph started in vigorously with exuberant joy in his heart. Having
once worked the questions they were now doubly easy; and he figured
away with enthusiasm.

Short fidgeted about in a most unhappy way. In a little over two hours
Ralph reported he had finished. The professor took his papers to the
superintendent’s office where they were compared with the papers marked
155.

“Professor, there is not the slightest doubt but young Short handed
in Mr. Osborn’s paper as his own. It is certainly fortunate that this
young villain’s naval career has been nipped early. But get his papers
and we’ll compare what he has done with the papers that were accredited
to Mr. Osborn.”

In a few moments Short was called into the superintendent’s office.

“You have done a low, dastardly act,” exclaimed the superintendent, as
soon as he had entered; “you are a thief. Before I leave my office
to-night I shall recommend your dismissal to the Secretary of the Navy.”

“I will resign, sir.”

“Indeed you’ll not resign. You will be dishonorably dismissed. I have
given orders you are to be kept in close confinement until word of your
dismissal comes from Washington. I now am certain that you are the
scoundrel who stole the examination questions in mathematics.” Then
turning to a midshipman who was now in his office, he continued, “Are
you the midshipman officer of the day?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Mr. Short is in arrest. You will march him to quarters and deliver him
to the officer in charge.”

“Aye, aye, sir. Come along, Mr. Short.”

They marched out, Mr. Short presenting a most crestfallen, contemptible
figure.

“Now, professor, I’ll call a special meeting of the Academic Board,”
said the superintendent, “at ten o’clock to-morrow morning and
we’ll make a midshipman out of Mr. Osborn. Good-night, Mr. Osborn;
I congratulate you. If you pass your physical examination to-morrow
you’ll be a midshipman before twenty-four hours have passed.”

“Good-night, sir, and thank you so much for everything,” replied Ralph,
picking up his hat and leaving the office, probably as happy a young
man as Annapolis has ever seen.

His feelings were much to be envied that night. He had passed through a
most anxious time with defeat staring him in the face, but had emerged
triumphantly successful.

By noon the next day he had passed the severe physical test which all
candidates to Annapolis undergo, and had been sworn in as a midshipman,
and was happily walking about the decks of the old _Santee_ where
the enlisted men employed at the Naval Academy and recently sworn-in
midshipmen are quartered, feeling that the most glorious thing was to
be a midshipman in the Navy.

Mere words are incapable of expressing Short’s state of mind. Wild rage
possessed him. Bitter hatred against Ralph Osborn filled his heart,
enveloped his whole being. After the examinations had been completed
he had been somewhat nervous, but became reassured when he heard that
Ralph had suddenly left town that Wednesday evening. And as Short’s
name was reported as having passed and he was sworn-in as a midshipman,
he soon became confident that his cheating would never become known.
He was feeling particularly pleased with himself at the instant he was
directed to report to the superintendent. He was somewhat uneasy when
these summons came, yet could not believe he had been found out.

And what a difference on his return! Black, wicked passion so possessed
him that all other feelings were driven from his mind.

Upon his return to the _Santee_ he was informed he was to be kept in
close arrest until further orders, and was to hold no communication
with other midshipmen.

A little before nine that night while Short was brooding and planning
schemes for revenge against Ralph Osborn, a midshipman passed near and
whispered: “What’s the matter, Short?”

“I want to talk with you,” replied Short. “Be at the forward gun-port
on the starboard side at about eleven o’clock to-night.”

“I can’t. No one is allowed to speak to you. I’d get into trouble if I
did.”

“You’ll get into more trouble if you don’t,” whispered Short. “You will
be there to-night or you’ll be in the Annapolis jail to-morrow; take
your choice,” and Short turned away.

At ten o’clock taps were rung out by the bugler, and the new midshipmen
turned into their hammocks. Soon after all lights were put out and
everything was quiet aboard the _Santee_. At eleven o’clock two dark
forms quietly slipped out of their hammocks and crept to an open
gun-port. Here they had a whispered conversation that lasted till after
midnight. Then one handed the other a roll of bills; the latter said:
“Thank you, Short; you may depend upon me. I understand what you want
done and I’ll do it. I’m glad you’ve given me more than one year. He
would feel it much worse four years from now than he would to-day.”

“I suppose so,” grumbled Short. “He’s the superintendent’s white-haired
boy now and it would be useless to try anything just at present. But
mind you, if you let up on him when the time comes, or play me false,
I’ll have you landed in jail as sure as my name is Short. Have no false
notions on that subject.”

“All right, Short, I’ll remember; you need have no fear of me. I guess
everything is understood, so good-night.”

They separated, and each returned to his hammock.

Three days later, at dinner formation, Midshipman Short was directed to
stand in front of his classmates. Then the acting cadet officer, who
mustered the new midshipmen at all formations, himself one who had been
turned back into this class, read the following order which was signed
by the Secretary of the Navy.

  “_Order_.

  “For having been guilty of the most dishonorable, contemptible
  action, for being in effect a thief, thereby proving himself to be
  unfit for any decent association, Midshipman Thomas G. Short is
  hereby dishonorably dismissed from the Naval Academy and the naval
  service. Two hours after the publication of this order he will be
  marched to the Naval Academy gate, and hereafter he will never be
  permitted to enter the Naval Academy grounds.”

Astonishment was depicted on the faces of most of Short’s erstwhile
classmates, for though much speculation had been indulged in as to the
nature of Short’s trouble, the exact facts had not been divulged and
were known to but few people at the Naval Academy.




CHAPTER V HIMSKIHUMSKONSKI


Before eleven o’clock Tuesday morning, Ralph Osborn had been duly
sworn in as a midshipman, and was directed to report to the paymaster
for the purpose of depositing the money for his outfit, and to draw
required articles from the midshipmen’s store. This did not take very
long. At the store the first thing Ralph received was a uniform cap.
He immediately put this on and regarded himself in the mirror with
unconcealed satisfaction. Then he was given a great number of different
articles; duck working suits, rubber coat and boots, flannel shirts,
underclothing, shoes, towels, sheets, blankets, collars, cuffs, shirts,
and so on. These he dumped heterogeneously together in a clothes bag,
and with this heavily-filled bag thrown over his shoulder he started
for the _Santee_, the old ship where his already admitted classmates
were quartered. The first person he saw aboard the _Santee_ was Bollup.
The latter rushed toward him enthusiastically. “Hello, Osborn,” he
cried. “You are a sure enough midshipman, aren’t you? I can see that by
your cap. Well, I’m delighted, old chap; you were right about there
being a mistake in that nine-tenths, weren’t you? But I wasn’t giving
much for your chances yesterday at this time, I can tell you. Now how
was the mistake made? Tell me all about it.”

Bollup’s greeting was most warm and cordial and it was very pleasant
to Ralph. The latter had been warned by the superintendent not to
talk about Short’s dastardly act, so he merely said: “Oh, there was
a mistake somewhere. My papers were examined again and were found to
be satisfactory after all; so they let me in. But I tell you I was
awfully blue for a while, old man. But I’m happy enough now! It seems
awfully good to be a midshipman; I’ll probably never enjoy another bit
of uniform as much as I do this cap. Now put me on to the ropes; what’s
the first thing I must do?”

“I’ll take you to see old Block; he’s the chief master-at-arms; he’ll
give you a mattress and hammock and a locker for your clothes and
things. Come along, there’s the old man now.”

A little distance away was a man of enormous build berating an ordinary
seaman for the neglect of some order. “You’re not fit to be an
afterguard sweeper,” he roared. “Polish up this handrail properly or
I’ll have you lose all your liberties for a month. Get a move on you,
you alleged sailorman, or----”

“Block,” interrupted Bollup, “here is another young gentleman for you;
he wants a mattress and a hammock, and a locker. Can you fix him up
right away?”

“Indeed I can. What’s your name, young sir?”

“Ralph Osborn, sir.”

“Avast your sir, when you’re talking to any one forrud of the mast,
Mr. Osborn. This is your first lesson in man-of-war manners. Keep your
‘sirs’ and your ‘misters’ for the quarter-deck; they’ll be mightily
missed there if you don’t put them on. Do you smoke cigarettes, Mr.
Osborn?”

“I neither smoke nor chew, sir.”

“Never mind the ‘sir,’ sir. I’m glad you don’t smoke cigarettes; I
report all midshipmen who do that. They’re regular coffin nails, but
chewing is healthy; no sensible man ever objects to a person chewing;
and a pipe now and then is a good thing for anybody. But no cigarettes,
mind you, no cigarettes.” And Chief Master-at-Arms Block glared at
Ralph in a way that would have surely intimidated him had he been
guilty of the habit Block so heartily despised.

“Now this way,” continued the huge and formidable-appearing, yet kindly
chief master-at-arms. “Here’s your locker key, No. 57, and I’ll send
that make-believe sailorman down to you with your mattress, hammock and
hammock clews, and I’ll tell him to put in the clews for you and show
you how to swing the hammock. And, Mr. Osborn, I’m glad to know you;
your classmates are a fine lot of young men, the best I’ve known in
the thirty years I’ve been aboard the _Santee_.”

“Thank you, Block, you’re very kind; I’ll get along, I’m sure.”

Bollup took Ralph down to his locker and immediately they were
surrounded by a group of Ralph’s new classmates.

“Here, fellows, here is Osborn,” cried Bollup; “he got in after
all. Why, when they saw what sort of a man they were losing they
just naturally slipped a three in front of that nine-tenths of his.
‘You’ve made a mistake,’ says Osborn to the supe, ‘I made more than
nine-tenths; send for my papers and read them over again.’ ‘To be sure
I did,’ says the supe, ‘but a mistake that’s easily remedied; here,
give me my pen and I’ll make your mark 3.9 instead of .9. I don’t need
to read your papers over again; I remember them perfectly.’”

Everybody laughed at Bollup’s remarks, and they crowded about Ralph,
giving him a hearty welcome. “Here, Osborn,” continued Bollup, “here’s
Himski; you remember him, Osborn; never mind the rest of his name--it’s
as long as a main to’ bowline, though what that is I don’t know, but it
sounds good. I heard old Block this morning tell an ordinary seaman his
face was as long as a main to’ bowline; but I’m sure there never was a
face as long as Himski’s name is. And here is Creelton; you know him,
don’t you, Os?”

“I never had the pleasure. I’m glad to meet you, Mr. Creelton,” replied
Ralph, laughing in great good humor at Bollup’s nonsense.

“There are no misters here, Osborn,” replied Creelton, a
pleasant-faced, blue-eyed youth. “I see Bollup has nicknamed you Os,
already, and everybody in our class calls me Creel.”

“And William Hamm wants to make your acquaintance, Os,” continued
Bollup; “now, William, make your politest bow and tell of the great
pleasure you experience in making Mr. Osborn’s acquaintance. Mr.
Osborn, Mr. Hamm; Mr. Hamm, Mr. Osborn. Smith M. T. and Smith Y. N.,
shake with Osborn; Taylor, you and Os are old friends. Herndon, give Os
the glad hand. Murphy, you old sinner, don’t be shy about greeting a
new classmate.”

Bollup proved to be a regular master of ceremonies and in a short time
Ralph found several scores of intimate friends. While yet a candidate
Ralph had known Bollup and Taylor fairly well but now he felt he was on
terms of great intimacy with them. He had known casually in Annapolis
at the preparatory school quite a number of the candidates who were now
his classmates; but none well except Bollup and Taylor. But now they
all seemed friends of the most intimate nature. And Bollup seemed to be
the leader of them all. The spirit of the new class centered in Bollup.

While Ralph was putting away his things and talking volubly with his
new friends at the same time the harsh notes of a bugle were heard
sounded on the deck overhead.

“The bugle has busted, fellows,” shouted Bollup; “break away from Os,
or he’ll be late to formation. That’s for dinner formation, Os,” he
continued. “Now hurry; we’ve only five minutes before muster; here, let
me pack your locker for you; I’m an experienced packer.”

Bollup pushed Ralph out of the way and proceeded to finish putting
his things away. He threw the remaining articles in pell-mell without
regard to order, in about thirty seconds. “There, I told you I was an
experienced packer, Os; now let’s beat it to formation.”

They rushed up to the upper deck and reached the formation just in time
to avoid being marked late. Ralph was much interested. Here was his
entire class gathered together, over a hundred young men, all dressed
in uniform caps and civilian clothes; they had been measured for their
midshipman uniforms but it would be several days before the uniforms
would be ready. In the meantime they were anything but military in
appearance. A midshipman in uniform was apparently in charge. He had
been turned back into this new class for failure in his studies.

The midshipmen were mustered, absentees were reported, and then, in a
column of twos, were marched off the _Santee_ to main quarters at the
other end of the Academy grounds. Here they were halted, were dismissed
and told to stand by to fall into ranks with the battalion at the
regular dinner formation.

The new midshipmen stood about in groups feeling ill at ease in their
new surroundings. All about them were hundreds of other midshipmen,
waiting for formation. Many of these, evidently upper classmen, paid
no attention whatever to the newcomers. Others, more youthful in
appearance, and evidently of the lowest class, about to be made third
classmen, glanced at Ralph’s incongruously attired classmates with
unconcealed gratification. They were serving the remaining few days of
their plebedom and they gloated over the young men who were not yet
even plebes.

One of them came up to Ralph and said: “Mister, what’s your name?”

“Ralph Osborn.”

“Never mind your first name, and always say sir, when addressing an
upper classman. Try it again. Now what’s your name?”

“Osborn, sir.”

“Where are you from?”

“Toledo, Ohio, sir.”

“Never mind the town; just name your state. Now try it again!”

“From Ohio, sir.”

“That’s better. Why have you entered the Navy; for money, glory,
patriotism or an education?”

“I don’t know how to answer, sir; I like everything about it.”

“Say sir when you end a sentence to an upper classman. Now try it
again.”

Ralph did as directed.

“What is history in its highest and truest sense?”

“I don’t know, sir.”

“Well, you’d better learn before next February, or you’ll bilge upon
the semi-an,” commented the young man, gruffly. And turning to the
midshipman standing next to Ralph, he said: “What’s your name?”

“Bollup, sir, from Virginia, sir, one of the Bollups of that state,
sir; a descendant of the Lieutenant-Colonel Bollup who was on General
Washington’s staff, sir. I came into the Navy, sir, because my father
told me to, sir; and I can’t tell you about that history question, sir;
history was always my weak point, sir; I nearly bilged on history in my
entrance examination, sir, and I hope you’ll excuse me from it, sir.”

The questioner glared upon Bollup, and demanded, “What are you trying
to do, mister? Are you trying to run me?”

“Not at all, sir; I was just trying to save you from the trouble of
asking me the questions you asked Mr. Osborn.”

“I’m inclined to think you’re cheeky. I’ll take it out of you if you
are, with more trouble to you than to me. Can you stand on your head?”

“Oh, yes, sir, just watch me.” And instantly Boll up was standing
on his head with his heels high in the air, to the overwhelming
consternation of his questioner.

“Get up, get up, mister,” he shouted; “do you want to bilge me?”

“Oh, no, sir,” returned the now erect Bollup, innocently. “I just
wanted to prove to you that I could stand on my head, sir; that was
all, sir.”

“Well, I’ll give you plenty of chance to prove that, but not under the
eyes of the officer in charge.” And then he said to the midshipman next
to Bollup: “What’s your name, mister?”

“Himskihumskonski, sir.”

“Hold on there, that’s enough. Suffering Moses, mister, where on earth
did you ever pick up such a name?”

“It was my father’s name, sir, and my grandfather’s before that; I’m a
Jew, sir.”

“Well, you’re a blame good man, Mister Himski and so forth. Shake
hands, will you? And if you want a friend just send for ‘Gruff’ Smith.
You’ll find a Jew at this school is as good as anybody else if he’s got
the stuff in him. And what is your name, mister?” continued “Gruff”
Smith, turning to a small, round-faced, blue-eyed little fellow.

“William Hamm, sir.”

“The next time anybody asks you your name tell him it’s Billy Bacon;
now don’t forget. There’s the bugle for formation and you’d better get
in ranks or you’ll hit the pap for being late.”

It was in this manner that Ralph Osborn received his introduction to
the battalion of midshipmen.




CHAPTER VI THE SUMMER PRACTICE CRUISE BEGINS


On Friday of this week the senior or first classmen were to be
graduated, and each of the lower classes was to be promoted one class.
Up to this time Ralph’s classmates were derisively called fifth
classmen and functions. Though the upper classmen, from the midshipmen
point of view, esteemed fourth classmen, or plebes, to be the lowest
things in the Navy, having no privileges and but few rights, yet the
new midshipmen had not even yet arrived to that low estate.

These young gentlemen looked upon every upper classman as a possible
enemy from whom brutal hazing might be expected. But the actual hazing
proved to be very different from what had been anticipated. Ralph
Osborn found himself standing on his head several times and sang
several songs, but these acts, though certain to cause the dismissal
of the perpetrators if detected, were always done in a spirit of fun,
and were as much enjoyed by Ralph as by the hazers. Naturally Bollup
received more hazing, or running, as it is called at the Naval Academy,
than any of his classmates. Bollup deliberately determined to have as
much fun out of the hazing as he could, and his zeal in always doing
more than the hazer demanded, and his antics and absurd answers created
much merriment and gave him a reputation as being “a fresh plebe.” He
frequently intentionally forgot to add the word “sir” in replying to
questions. This was always insisted upon as expressive of a proper
respect toward his seniors.

“You must never forget to say sir, Mr. Bollup,” gravely ordered Mr.
Smith, who was well known as “Gruff” Smith by all midshipmen.

“Must I even think it, sir?” demanded Bollup, innocently.

“Yes, you must always think it, even to yourself; the first training a
midshipman receives is to respect his seniors.”

“All right, sir; you’ll find I’m always the most respectful midshipman
at the Academy.”

“Put on a sir at the end of your sentence, Mr. Bollup.”

Bollup did so, and before the end of the week he used the word sir in
every possible way when speaking to an upper classman.

In this week preceding graduation day, Ralph Osborn’s classmates were
exercised in the mornings, first at infantry, in which they were
drilled as recruits, and after that in the gymnasium. Each afternoon
they were sent out in cutters for rowing exercise. By night all of
these midshipmen were thoroughly tired. The purpose of this was to
harden them physically in preparation for the approaching summer
cruise and to initiate them in naval beginnings. It was after supper,
while strolling about the grounds, that the cases of hazing occurred.

Friday was graduation day; the next day the midshipmen were to embark
aboard the practice ships for the summer cruise. The _Chesapeake_ and
_Monongahela_, both sailing ships, were to be used this summer. Half of
Ralph’s class were to go on each ship, and Ralph found he was billeted
for the _Chesapeake_.

At breakfast formation, Friday, an order was read out that there would
be no drill that day for the new fourth class; that all were to mark
the jumpers of their working suits with their names in indelible ink;
the name in each case was to be in black letters an inch high. After
the return from breakfast to the _Santee_ the new fourth classmen
distributed themselves on the gun-deck with their working jumpers and
with pen and ink and started to mark their jumpers.

“Hello, Himski,” called out Bollup as he was passing the former. “Why
don’t you get busy? What are you so blue about?”

Himskihumskonski looked hopelessly at the six jumpers about him.

“I wish you’d tell me how to mark my name,” he replied; “part of it
will be on the front and part on the back of my coat, and I’ll be
forever turning around so that these third classmen can read it. I can
just imagine myself spinning around all day long. Can’t you help me
out, Bollup?”

“Surely I can,” returned that youth, cheerily. “Here, give me a piece
of paper; thank you.” Bollup wrote rapidly. “Now, just fix up your
jumpers that way and you’ll be all right.”

“Thank you,” replied the other, smiling. “It’s worth trying.”

The new fourth class took no part in the beautiful graduation
ceremonies nor in the grand ball of Friday night. The next morning
they were conveyed with members of the first and third classes to the
practice ships, and the summer cruise commenced. The second classmen
were to remain at Annapolis during the summer for practical work in the
shops.

As soon as Ralph was aboard the _Chesapeake_ he was directed to stand
in line in front of a small office. Here he gave his name, and then
received a small piece of paper which gave him information where he
was to eat, where to sleep, at what gun he was to drill, and what part
of the ship he was to work in. He then was told to shift into working
clothes immediately and to stow his locker. This latter proved very
difficult, for Ralph had an enormous lot of clothes and the locker
was very small. When he had finished, his locker was jammed so full
that its door could be closed only with difficulty. This finally done,
Ralph went up on deck and there in the port gangway was Bollup and
Himskihumskonski surrounded by many upper classmen, all of whom were
laughing heartily. On the front of Bollup’s jumper was printed, in
great block letters,

  “_Bollup, sir_,”

and on his companion’s jumper was printed,

  “_Himski, etc._”

This amused Ralph. “It’s just like Bollup,” he remarked to his
classmate, Taylor.

On Monday morning the _Chesapeake_ weighed anchor and got under way for
New London. The first and third classmen fell into their places easily.
Ralph and his classmates at first were much bewildered with the strange
things about them, the multiplicity of ropes and the jargon of strange
sounds that constantly were dinned into their ears. The lieutenant in
charge of the deck would shout some unintelligible order in loud, harsh
tones. Then piercing, shrill whistles would be blown, followed by the
screaming of the boatswain’s mates; and then everybody would jump up
from whatever he was doing and rush to one end or other of the ship.
Here Ralph would always find some men leading out a rope, and some
first classman would gruffly say: “Fist onto that rope, mister, and put
your weight on it.” Ralph would always join in the rush, and before
long he commenced to understand the orders that were shouted and soon
the meaning of them.

The _Chesapeake_ anchored each of the six nights she was in Chesapeake
Bay, and a little mild fun was indulged in by the upper classmen.

“Bring me something to read, Mr. Bollupsir,” said First Classman
Baldwin, one evening soon after the _Chesapeake_ had left Annapolis, to
Bollup.

After some minutes the latter returned and said: “I’ve hunted
everywhere, sir, but can find nothing, sir; I’m sorry, sir; I did the
best I could, sir.”

“Well, Mr. Bollupsir,” returned Baldwin in menacing tones, “you’ll
bring me something to read within the next few minutes or you’ll stand
on your head every night for a week. Get me something; I don’t care
what it is.”

“Say, Os,” said Bollup soon afterward, “for heaven’s sake give me a
book or a paper, anything will do; I’ve got to get Baldwin something to
read or stand on my head for a week.”

“I’m sorry, old fellow!” replied Ralph. “I wish I could but I haven’t a
thing.”

“Yes, you have; I see a book and a paper in your locker; let me have
them, quick.”

“Help yourself,” said Ralph, smiling, “but I’m afraid what you see is
not what Baldwin wants.”

“Anything will do,” shouted Bollup, snatching the book and paper from
Ralph’s locker and running aft without looking at them, fearing he
would receive condign punishment for being so long on his errand.

“Here, sir,” cried Bollup a moment later to Baldwin, “I’ve hunted the
whole ship over and this is all I can find,” and he quickly handed
Baldwin the book and paper.

Baldwin looked at them and then at the plebe in front of him. “I think
these will be very interesting to you, Mr. Bollupsir,” he remarked
quietly. “This paper is _The Sunday-School Herald_; it has a number of
things in it, some articles and some poems. I’m quite fond of poetry.
Suppose you learn all of these poems by heart, commencing with this
one, entitled: ‘Our Beautiful Sunday-School;’ there are only twenty-two
verses to it. And this is a very valuable book you have brought me; I
know it well; it helped me get into the Academy three years ago. It is
‘Robinson’s Practical Arithmetic.’ Now when you are tired of learning
poetry you may work out some problems, there are hundreds of them, and
commence at the first. And every night you’ll please report to me at
seven o’clock.”

Bollup was aghast. But Baldwin was determined and directed Bollup
to commence immediately. And for the rest of the summer cruise
for part of each day Bollup was to be seen on the berth deck by
Baldwin’s side industriously working problems or committing some
part of the _Sunday-School Herald_ to memory. This created lots of
fun for everybody except poor Bollup. His own classmates plagued him
unmercifully and he was in constant demand by the third classmen to
recite “Our Beautiful Sunday-School.” In this recitation, performed
hundreds of times, Bollup became impassioned and created uproarious
laughter.

On the afternoon of the day of Bollup’s misadventure, Baldwin passed
Ralph who was standing by his locker and said: “Here you, take this
rubber coat and keep it in your locker for me, and whenever it rains
bring me my coat on the run. Do you understand? And what’s your name?”

“Yes, sir, I understand and my name is Osborn; but my locker is now so
jammed I can’t get all of my own things in it, sir; I’m afraid I can’t
do it, sir.”

“Never say ‘can’t’ when your senior gives you an order, Mr. Osborn,”
said Baldwin severely, throwing his rubber coat to Ralph and walking on.

Ralph was in despair. He tried his best but simply was unable to stuff
Baldwin’s coat in the already overfilled locker. So finally he took his
own rubber coat out and laid it on top of his locker, and then managed
to stow Baldwin’s. The next morning Ralph’s coat was missing; this
was a hardship for it started to rain heavily. Ralph rushed to Baldwin
with the latter’s coat, and then went up on deck to haul on some ropes.
He was soon drenched, and to add to his misfortunes he received five
demerits for being out of uniform, and later three more for having a
rubber coat in the “Lucky Bag.” He received his coat back and stood
ruefully before his locker wondering what he could do, when Baldwin
came up; the latter spoke kindly. “I’m sorry about those demerits I
caused you to get, Mr. Osborn,” he said. “Your classmate, Bollup, has
just told me about your having received them. If I’d known it in time
I could have fixed the matter up. I could do it now by going to the
captain and stating the circumstances; he would take off your demerits
but would report me for hazing you; even such a little thing as that
would be considered hazing and would cause my dismissal. I don’t
suppose you would want me to do that?”

“Oh, no, sir,” replied Ralph, “indeed I wouldn’t; your coat is now
back in my locker and I’ve just received mine from the ‘Lucky Bag’ and
am wondering what I had best do. If I leave it on top of my locker it
will be taken up again and I will get more demerits, and really I can’t
possibly get it in my locker.”

“I should say not,” remarked Baldwin, looking into Ralph’s locker.
“Here, Mr. Osborn, give me my coat, and come along with me. Bring your
own coat with you.”

Ralph did so, wondering what was going to happen. They walked aft for
some distance, and then Baldwin said, “Here are my lockers, Mr. Osborn;
I am quite fortunate; I have two lockers and I’m going to give you a
big shelf in one of them. You can stow your rubber coat here and some
other things. And if at any time I can do anything for you, come right
up. I have those demerits of yours on my conscience and I want to
square up the account. I want to be your friend. You needn’t run to me
with my coat any more, and shove your own coat in there.”

Ralph was overjoyed. This was the first upper classman who had
expressed an interest in him. For those who had spoken to him he had
stood on his head and had performed various other antics as ordered.
And besides, with this additional stowage room, he would be quite
comfortable. “Oh, thank you ever so much,” he said effusively, “and
don’t think of my eight demerits; I’d have traded them and more, too,
for this nice shelf.”

Baldwin smiled. Then turning to Bollup, who was seated close by, he
asked: “Have you come across any hard problems this morning?”

“Yes, sir,” replied Bollup, “a very hard one, but I didn’t find it in
my book here. Somebody last night annexed a twenty-dollar bill I had
in my locker and the problem is to discover how I’m going to have
a good time in New London without any money, sir. I won’t be able
to buy myself even so much as a bag of peanuts,” and Bollup grunted
disgustedly.

“Go to the executive officer right away and report the circumstances
to him,” directed Baldwin. Bollup did so, but nothing came of the
investigation. All that was proved was that several servants had been
near Bollup’s locker during meal-times, but no incriminating evidence
was developed against any of them. That the thief might have been other
than a servant was a matter not considered.

The _Chesapeake_ took six days to sail from Annapolis to the mouth of
the bay. The ship was tacked innumerable times, constantly from eight
in the morning till six in the afternoon. First classmen took turns in
handling the ship. The rest rushed to and fro, hauling on this rope
and then on that. All day long the cries: “Ready about, stations for
stays,” and, “Haul taut, mainsail haul,” and, “Haul well taut, let
go and haul,” and, “Reeve and haul the bowlines,” rang incessantly
in Ralph’s ears. But during these days he came to know the names of
different ropes and where they were to be found, and the particular
purpose of each rope; also how the sails were managed.




CHAPTER VII MAN OVERBOARD


Gentle breezes steadily blew the _Chesapeake_ to the south’ard, and in
a few days she had cleared the Capes and was out on the broad Atlantic.
Ralph Osborn made daily progress in knowledge of the ropes and sails
and rigging of the ship. He quickly learned he should say gear, not
ropes, and early imbibed the contempt every true sailorman has for one
who says: “up-stairs,” or “down-stairs,” instead of the approved terms
of “above” or “below.” Very glibly did the midshipmen adopt ship terms
in their speech, and soon ship life became very natural to them. On
this cruise Ralph’s duty in making and taking in sail, and in all ship
evolutions, was to haul on different ropes. The third classmen did the
furling and unfurling aloft. These young gentlemen scrambled up the
rigging when ordered, like so many squirrels; each bent on being first
up the dizzy heights, they ran with as much speed and as little concern
as if they were running foot-races on the deck below; though the fourth
classmen had deck stations they were all sent aloft and exercised in
furling and loosing sail, and in learning the lead of the gear aloft.
A lesson in seamanship was assigned each day and all midshipmen
were kept constantly busy. They soon knew all about clew-lines and
buntlines, tacks and sheets, and the braces, and in less than two weeks
most of the midshipmen could have told where any particular gear was
belayed and how it was rove, whether it was the flying jib halyards,
the weather cross-jack brace, or what it was. Outside of Chesapeake Bay
the ship ran into half a gale, and plunged and rolled considerably.
Ralph Osborn had the usual taste of seasickness, but after recovering
he delighted in the experiences he was having.

One morning late in June while Ralph was looking at the gear that
belayed at the fore fife-rail, Bollup came up to him and said: “Hello,
Os, what’s that you’ve got in your hands?”

“This is the main to’ bowline. I remember your saying the first day I
was aboard the _Santee_ that Himski’s name was as long as the main to’
bowline.”

Bollup grinned. “It pretty nearly is,” he remarked. “How does she
reeve? I’m rusty on that particular piece of hemp.”

“Look up at the main topsail; you see we are braced high up in the
wind. Now the leech of the sail is pulled forward by the main to’
bowline. Don’t you see that line running forward from that bridle on
the leech of the sail? Follow it along with your eye and you’ll see it
leads right under the fore top. It runs through a block hooked under
the top, and then down to this fife-rail. It’s a long lead, Bollup.”

“Of course it is,” returned Bollup, “if it is as long as Himski’s name.
By the way, Os, what was all the row about this morning?”

“Oh, that miserable Coleman told me to stand on my head in a slop
bucket, and I told him I wouldn’t do it. Then he tried to jump me, and
asked me if I didn’t intend to obey a third classman’s order. I told
him I wouldn’t obey that order, I didn’t care who gave it. He then
got wrathy and struck me in the face. Well, I punched him a few times
good and hard; of course he’s a baby and had no show with me, but he
deserved all he got. Then ‘Gruff’ Smith rushed up mad as could be. ‘Why
don’t you take a man of your size?’ he shouted. ‘What are you hammering
a kid like Coleman for?’ I said: ‘Mr. Smith, Mr. Coleman told me to
stand on my head in this slop bucket and I told him I wouldn’t do it
for a third classman or for anybody else, and I won’t. He then struck
me in the face and got hit back.’ Well, Bollup, you should have seen
old ‘Gruff.’ He said to Coleman: ‘You miserable idiot, if you----’”

At this instant Ralph was interrupted by a cry from the officer of the
deck, repeated by the boatswain’s mates, of: “Stand by to take in the
royals and topgallantsails! Lay aloft royal and topgallant-yard men!
Man the royal and topgallant clew-lines and buntlines! Clear away the
sheets! In royal and topgallantsails!”

At the first order the midshipmen concerned with these duties ran aloft
with great speed and soon were at the dizzy heights their furling
stations took them to. Before they had arrived there the sails had been
clewed up and were ready to be furled. Ralph and Bollup with others
had manned the weather foretopgallant clew-line, and now had returned
to the fife-rail and were looking aloft, interested by the young men
working one hundred and fifty feet above the ship’s deck.

Of a sudden a fearful scream, a shout of agonized terror was heard, and
Ralph’s blood seemed to freeze. His horrified eyes, fastened on the
weather fore royal yard-arm, saw a midshipman suddenly lose his balance
and tumble backward. There was a sheer fall of one hundred and fifty
feet to the deck below.

A frightful feeling possessed Ralph, he knowing that in the next
instant a mangled corpse would be dashed to the deck beside him. The
body came whizzing down. But look! The unfortunate midshipman in his
fall struck a small iron rod used as a railing on the after rim of
the fore top, and then tumbled backward. Right below him was the main
to’ bowline, and he landed squarely on this. Ralph saw all this with
terrified eyes. He then saw that the midshipman was clinging to the
main to’ bowline with his hands and had shifted a leg over it. With
quick presence of mind Ralph threw the coil of the main to’ bowline
off the pin where it had been belayed, and started to slack it away. A
couple of first classmen standing near jumped to where Ralph was and
helped him to do this, and in a few seconds the midshipman who had
fallen was safely lowered to the deck.[1]

It proved to be “Gruff” Smith. He was bruised and badly shaken up but
not seriously injured and in a few days was about as usual, though his
station was changed from the royal yard to the deck.

Late in the day Ralph heard a word passed: “Midshipman Osborn, report
to the quarter-deck.” He went aft, wondering what he was wanted for.
On the weather side of the quarter-deck he saw the captain, Commander
Bolton, the executive, Lieutenant-Commander Roberts, and First Classman
Baldwin. Ralph approached them uneasily, fearing that perhaps he was to
receive some severe punishment for his fight with Coleman. He had never
spoken to these high officers. He recognized them with awe and feared
them.

“Mr. Osborn?” questioned the captain.

“Yes, sir.”

“Mr. Baldwin has reported to me that in the accident this morning you
were the first to get to the main to’ bowline to lower Mr. Smith to
the deck. That was well done for any one, particularly for a fourth
classman; and it is gratifying that such signal proof should come
of the instruction received by midshipmen. You did well, sir. Mr.
Roberts, you will please give Mr. Osborn a four for this week’s mark in
seamanship. That’s all, sir.”

Ralph walked away, tingling with pleasure. He had received emphatic
praise from his captain for acting with good judgment during an
emergency.

The midshipmen were much impressed by Smith’s fall and miraculous
escape and talked of but little else for days. The time fairly flew
by for Ralph. In the daytime he was kept constantly busy, either
running aloft to examine different things in preparation for the day’s
seamanship lesson, or else by working at prescribed tasks on deck. At
night each midshipman stood (or rather stood lying down) a four-hour
watch on deck. This was no hardship. The weather kept fine and it was
delightful to be lulled to sleep by the easy roll of the ship with the
wind blowing softly, and hearing the comfortable swish of the water
against the ship’s hull.

Ralph thoroughly enjoyed the companionship of his classmates. They were
a fine group of young men, full of life and spirit. Those he liked most
were Bollup, Himski, Creelton, and Taylor. Creelton was an agreeable
young fellow; he was engaging and sympathetic in manner and generous to
a fault.

“Who are you going to room with, Os?” asked Bollup the day before the
_Chesapeake_ arrived in New London.

“Why, I’d like to room with you. What do you say?”

“Thanks, Os; I’m sure I’d find that very pleasant, but Himski and I
have fixed up to room together. The fellows are all talking about who
they are going to room with next year and if you have any particular
choice you’d better get busy.”

Creelton now approached, and Ralph said: “Say, Creelton, what do you
say to rooming with me next year?”

“Now isn’t that remarkable?” replied Creelton. “I was coming over here
for the particular purpose of asking you to room with me. But it will
be bully. I’d like it ever so much, Os.”

“All right, Creel; then we’ll look upon that as settled. I’m awfully
glad we’re to be roommates. We’ll have a bully good time together.”

The _Chesapeake_ was kept at sea until July 10th, when it put into New
London and anchored off the old Pequot Hotel. The midshipmen were here
given leave every day for two weeks; on first getting ashore they were
all wild with delight and enthusiasm, but before the ship started on
her homeward cruise most of them had spent all the money they had and
were glad to be off. The _Chesapeake_ left New London July 25th and was
scheduled to arrive at Fort Monroe August 20th, spend a few days there,
and anchor at Annapolis the 30th.

On this homeward bound cruise was shown the benefit the midshipmen
had received from their previous six weeks’ work. Ralph Osborn now
ran aloft boldly and went out on the highest yard-arms with perfect
confidence. He could reef and furl and make all sort of knots and he
felt he knew every rope aboard and where it was and what it was used
for. He could heave the lead and give correct soundings, and heave the
log to get the ship’s speed. The good-natured enlisted men took a real
interest in giving the midshipmen information, and before the ship
had returned to Annapolis it can be safely said that she had a very
efficient ship’s company.

When the ship was under way, each morning at seven o’clock the
midshipmen who had been on watch since four o’clock were required to
run up the rigging to the top and from there up the topmast rigging
over the topmast head, and then down to the deck. This was supposed to
be good exercise for them and tended to make them nimble aloft.

On one cold, gray morning in the middle of August the _Chesapeake_ was
bowling along at a ten knot speed. The wind was fresh and the ship
was driven into rough, heavy seas. The ship was under all sail to
topgallantsails.

“By George, Os,” remarked Creelton to Ralph, after six o’clock, as the
young men were having their morning coffee, “I hope the officer of the
deck won’t send us over the rigging this morning; it’s awfully cold and
I’m almost numb, and just see the ship roll! It’s dangerous to go aloft
this weather.”

“It won’t bother us a bit after we once get started, Creel,” replied
Ralph. “We’ve been over the rigging in much worse weather than this;
it’s only a fresh breeze.”

“What are you two plebes yapping about?” snarled Third Classman Coleman
who was standing near. “And what do you mean by loafing on the windward
side of the forecastle? Oh, it’s you, is it, Mr. Osborn? You have the
cheek of a right whale. Get out of here, you miserable beast.”

Ralph became angry but tried to control himself. “Take it back, Mr.
Coleman,” he said; “as a third classman you may run me; I’ll stand for
that, but you can’t insult me. Take it back, sir.”

“What’s all this row about?” demanded “Gruff” Smith, coming up to the
group.

“Oh, this spoon of yours is cheeking me, that’s all,” sneered Coleman.

“Mr. Coleman called me a miserable beast. I told him that as he is a
third classman he could run me but that he couldn’t insult me. I told
him to take it back, sir.”

“And didn’t he?”

“No, he didn’t,” interrupted Coleman; “and furthermore, he won’t.”

“Well, Mr. Osborn, as a third classman I’ll apologize to you for him.
Third classmen run plebes but they don’t insult them. Now see here,
Coleman, if you----”

But “Gruff” Smith was interrupted by a loud order from the officer of
the deck, of:

“Midshipmen of the watch on the weather sheer poles! Stand by to go
over the topmast heads.”

The midshipmen divided themselves on the three sheer poles abreast the
foremast, mainmast, and mizzenmast, each braced for a run, eager to be
first. On Ralph’s right was a third classman named Richards.

“Now look here, Mr. Plebe; don’t you dare get ahead of me,” he said.

“No, sir,” replied Ralph.

At the order, “Lay aloft,” the young men streamed up the rigging.
Richards was first and right after him came Ralph. Each went over
the futtock shrouds to the topmast rigging, disdaining the lubbers’
hole, and in a moment were high up the topmast. In going over the
crosstrees the ship was making a quick roll to leeward, and Richards
tripped and lost his hold, and was thrown downward head first. As
he half turned around in a vain effort to clutch something Ralph
saw a white, agonized face, and a second later he heard a scream of,
“Man overboard,” which brought terror to every heart. No fancy drill
ever inspired the frightened tones of that particular cry. It was
immediately followed by sharp, quick orders from the officer of the
deck, Lieutenant Minturn.

“Hard down!” he shouted to the helmsman. “Let go the life-buoys! Lay
down from aloft! Silence fore and aft! Every man to his station! Clear
away the lee life-boat! Main clew garnets and buntlines! Weather main
and lee cross-jack braces! Clear away the bo’lines! Up mainsail, brace
a back!”

The six enlisted men and the coxswain forming the life-boat’s crew
jumped into her. Two enlisted men rushed to the boat’s falls and
commenced to lower it. They were overanxious; the man at the forward
fall threw the coil off the pin; the man at the after fall did the same
and both men started to lower the boat rapidly.

“Belay forrud, I’m jammed,” shrieked the man at the after fall. But in
the din about the deck, men rushing about, pulling and hauling at the
braces, his frightened cry was unheard, and the bow of the life-boat
came down rapidly while the stern was still high in the air. In another
instant a heavy sea crashed into the life-boat and wrenched it clear
from the ship.

In the meantime the executive officer, Lieutenant-Commander Roberts,
had rushed up from below and had taken charge. He soon had the other
life-boat in the water; it immediately shoved off in the hope of
picking up the men who had been swept into the sea. It found but one
man. Two others had clutched the pendant of the stern Jacob’s-ladder as
it trailed behind and were hauled aboard. But nothing whatever was seen
of Midshipman Richards who had fallen overboard nor of the four men of
the first life-boat’s crew, nor could the life-boat itself be found.[2]

An indescribable gloom settled upon the ship. Awful death had in the
twinkling of an eye snatched five lives from the ship’s company.
Officers, midshipmen and enlisted men went about in a subdued, quiet
way. The running of plebes ceased, and there was no more pell-mell
scrambling aloft.

The _Chesapeake_ arrived at Annapolis August 28th and the upper
classmen all went on leave for a month. Ralph Osborn’s classmates
during this time were again quartered aboard the _Santee_ and were
drilled mornings and afternoons, and when the school year commenced,
October 1st, they were all eager to begin their studies.

FOOTNOTES:

[1] An actual occurrence on a midshipman’s practice cruise witnessed by
the author.

[2] This accident happened just as described during a midshipman
practice cruise.




CHAPTER VIII BOLLUP’S WATCH IN A QUEER PLACE


At this time in the battalion of midshipmen there were something over
three hundred young men, of whom about one hundred were fourth classmen
or “plebes.” Some years were yet to elapse before the battalion was
enlarged into a brigade of eight hundred.

The day the upper classmen returned from leave was one of great
activity. They had to unpack and arrange their rooms, turn in their
citizen’s clothes, and naturally there was much hand-shaking and many
enthusiastic greetings. Lists had been posted on the bulletin-boards
containing the new battalion organization, and each midshipman
found his own name and after it the number of his room and of his
seat in the mess hall, and other necessary information. Other lists
were posted, dividing each class into sections of from eight to
twelve men for recitations, and on these lists were to be found the
lessons prescribed for the next day. By these means there was no
confusion whatever. Everything had been thought out beforehand and all
necessary information of one kind and another was found posted on the
bulletin-boards.

Ralph Osborn found himself assigned to the second division, the
commander of which was Cadet Lieutenant Baldwin. He and Creelton were
quartered in room No. 131. The senior midshipman in command of the
battalion was Cadet Lieutenant-Commander Holman. His rank was denoted
by four narrow gold stripes on his sleeve. The cadet lieutenants
commanding the divisions wore three stripes. Lower in rank were “two
stripers” and “one stripers,” and below them were the “cadet petty
officers,” or “buzzards,” as they were termed from their wearing on
their sleeves a gold embroidered American eagle.

The cadet officers and petty officers were all of the first class. They
had prescribed daily duties, and under the general direction of the
commandant of midshipmen were in military control of the battalion.
Besides these there were always on duty an officer-in-charge who was
a lieutenant, and a number of midshipmen temporarily detailed as
“officers of the day,” and “midshipman in charge of floor.” These
midshipmen were of the first and second classes and were changed daily,
all coming on in their regular turns.

There were three lieutenants detailed as “officer-in-charge.” Each of
these officers came on duty once in three days for twenty-four hours,
during which time he messed with the midshipmen and slept in the same
building where they were quartered. He was the mouthpiece of the
commandant and in addition carried on the routine and issued orders to
the cadet officers, and had certain inspections to make. His immediate
assistants were those midshipmen who were on the temporary detail.

At formations the new cadet officers took charge with the air and
manner of veterans. Their orders rang out sharp and clear. At supper
formation of the first day of their return Ralph Osborn found himself
in the middle of the rear rank of the second division. Soon there
was a bugle call, and then the cadet first petty officer, standing
fronting the division, read the roll of the midshipmen of his company.
“Here,” answered Ralph, when he heard “Osborn” called out. Then Cadet
Lieutenant Baldwin took charge. “Second company right dress! Back in
the center, dress up on the left. Up a little extreme left. Steady!
Front!”

Then the cadet adjutant, a two striper, read out several orders, and
soon after, the cadet lieutenant-commander gave the order: “Battalion
fours right! March!” The battalion moved like clockwork into the mess
hall and when it was halted Ralph found himself at the table seat which
had previously been assigned to him.

The study hours were called at half-past seven and all midshipmen were
required to remain in their rooms until half-past nine. Then they were
free until ten o’clock, when the midshipmen had to be in their beds.

Ralph and Creelton took up their books with great interest.

“These lessons are too long!” exclaimed Ralph. “Great Cæsar’s ghost,
Creel, we’ll never have time enough to get these lessons; why look
here, the algebra lesson is thirteen pages, the rhetoric is fifteen,
and just look what we have to do in French! I’ll bilge sure.”[3]

“They are long, Os,” replied Creelton, “but they’re easy. I’ve boned[4]
all this stuff in college and can speak French. French is always hard
at first, but I’ll help you.”

“Now that’s good of you, Creel; you’ll do me lots of good.”

Their attention was now attracted by a rap on the door, and then
immediately opened. A first classman wearing white gloves now entered.
Ralph and Creelton jumped up, and stood at attention. The first
classman looked at them and then growled, “Work hard or you’ll bilge,”
and then left.

“What’s that for, I wonder?” inquired Ralph.

“Oh, I guess that’s the midshipman in charge, making his inspection to
see if we’re here.”

Ralph and Creelton now commenced to study. Ralph rather skimmed through
his algebra. He had always done well in mathematics at school and
expected to do the same at the Naval Academy. Besides he had studied
algebra as far as quadratics. So he devoted himself to rhetoric which
was new and to French which was entirely foreign.

At about nine o’clock there came another rap on the door, and
immediately Lieutenant Wilson entered. “Good-evening, gentlemen,” he
said, glanced about the room and then withdrew.

At five minutes before ten a bugle call was heard, and both Ralph
and Creelton got into their beds. Shortly after ten Cadet Lieutenant
Baldwin entered their room, saw they were both turned in, and left.

The next morning, they were turned out by reveille and gun-fire at six
o’clock, and soon after a cadet officer inspected the room to see that
they were up and that their beds were turned back. Breakfast formation
was held half an hour later.

“Open ranks,” ordered the four striper. A moment later he reported to
the officer-in-charge: “Sir, the battalion is ready for inspection.”

Lieutenant Wilson walked in front of the ranks, scanning each
midshipman narrowly. Pausing in front of Creelton he said: “Clothes
not properly brushed. Report him.” In front of Ralph he said: “Hair
not properly cut. Shoes not polished. Report him.” Their names were
taken and were read out the next morning before the battalion on the
“Delinquency Conduct Report.”

Ralph was given three demerits for “shoes not polished.” Creelton
received three for his offense. “Thunder,” grumbled Ralph. “If I
receive demerits like this I’ll never get a Saturday liberty. Fourth
classmen are only allowed twenty-one demerits a month.”

“Oh, we’ll be more careful,” returned Creelton lightly.

It must be admitted that in the first days Ralph did miserably in
his recitations. His mark in algebra was barely satisfactory, and in
rhetoric he was most unfortunately sent to the blackboard to write on a
subject in the last part of the prescribed lesson, something he had not
even read over. In French all of the midshipmen of his section except
himself had previously had some instruction, as it happened, and poor
Ralph by comparison was at a great disadvantage. The French instructor
had him repeat after him some simple French words and sounds and was
indignant at his inability to do so.

“Ah, Meestair Osborng, eet ees so eazie. Ven feerst I learn ze Eenglis,
vairy feerst day, I haf eegsatlie ze vairy zame prononciacion zat I
haf now. I feair zat you do not haf ze eentelejence; I nevair haf no
trouble in prononcing ze Eenglis, not from ze feerst. Vat you must do,
Meestair Osborng, ees to remember how eazie eet vas for me to pronounce
ze Eenglis; you hear how correct I am? Vell, you must try to do ze
zaime vis ze Français.”

Poor Ralph stood mute. There was nothing he could say under the
circumstances.

There were three instruction periods a day; each was of two hours’
duration, one of which was spent in the section room reciting; the
other the midshipman spent as a study hour in his own room.

Ralph was much impressed by the number of inspections that were made.
Each hour in the day an inspecting officer, one of the midshipmen on
special duty, entered his room to see that he was there; or if not
there, to inquire into the cause of his absence. Ralph felt, as never
before, he was under the iron hand of discipline, where he was under
constant surveillance and had to account for himself and his actions
for every moment of the day. Studies finished at four o’clock and then
drill commenced and lasted until half-past five and sometimes later.
At the end of the drill Ralph was always tired, but a rest, a bath,
and supper proved very refreshing, and during the evenings he always
studied with great determination.

The days rapidly passed and were full of interest to Ralph, but he was
in a much distressed state of mind about his studies. He continued to
do poorly in rhetoric, and for his French his instructor exhibited
impatient contempt. In mathematics Ralph was satisfactory, but not much
more so. He felt he could not spare much time to prepare his lessons
in this subject because he was so low in the other two. He felt very
grateful to his roommate for the earnest efforts the latter took to
help him in French. Creelton gave up much of his leisure time for this
purpose, and but for him Ralph would have been badly unsatisfactory
the first month in that subject. As it was, his first month’s mark
in French was but 2.53, only three-hundredths above satisfactory. In
rhetoric Ralph had 2.68, and in algebra 2.73, for the first month’s
average.

When these marks were published Ralph was a very crestfallen young man.
In his secret thoughts he had hoped to stand number one in his class;
he always had done so in Toledo, but his rank for the first month
was far down. It was Ralph’s nature to be thorough in what he did,
and as a result he never was able to get completely over the lesson
before starting for recitation; and he was remarkably unfortunate in
frequently being called upon to recite on a part of the lesson he had
not studied.

Creelton was doing splendidly; for the first month he had over 3.50 in
each subject and stood about number three in class rank; he was devoted
to Ralph; there was never a time but what he willingly put away his own
work to help Ralph in his French.

In November Ralph did somewhat better in his studies and this
encouraged him. Himski was apparently standing number one, and to the
surprise of all, the irrepressible, rollicking Bollup was easily number
two. Taylor, Streeter, and Warren were also of this group, and these
seven young men were always to be found together and were known to the
rest of the class as “Himski’s Bunch.”

One day late in November, Bollup came to Ralph’s room, his face flushed
with anger. “There’s some thief in this building,” he indignantly
cried. “Somebody has pinched my gold watch.”

“By George, that’s too bad, Bollup!” exclaimed Ralph. “That was a fine
watch you had; are you certain it was stolen? Couldn’t it be misplaced?”

“Of course I’m certain! I left it in the top shelf of my wardrobe when
I went to drill to-day; I always do that; and as soon as I came back
from drill I went to get it and it wasn’t there.”

“Who could have done it?” asked Creelton.

“I wish I knew; he wouldn’t stay long at this place. Fellows, there’s a
thief in this school wearing a midshipman’s uniform. I’m certain of it.”

“Impossible!” exclaimed Creelton. “It must have been one of the colored
building men.”

“Not on your life. The watch was stolen between four and six o’clock
to-day and in those hours there wasn’t a corridor boy in the building.”

“By George, that’s an awful thing to say, Bollup; I hope it isn’t so.”

“Well, it is, mark me. And it was the same thief who stole twenty
dollars from me on the cruise. I’m going to try to find out if anybody
was seen going to my room when I was out.”

“I stopped in your room on my way to drill to-day thinking to pick you
up, but you had gone,” remarked Ralph, quietly.

“Oh, that’s all right, Os. But I’d like to catch the thief, that’s all.
And he’ll be found out, mark my words,” and Bollup left.

“This is awful, Os,” said Creelton. “I hope Bollup is mistaken.”

“I hope so, but he seems certain.”

Bollup went about, telling of his loss, and the matter was much talked
of by the midshipmen. The idea that there might be a thief among them
produced a most uncomfortable feeling.

A couple of days later, at about eleven o’clock in the morning, a
letter and a small box were delivered to Ralph. Opening the letter he
was delighted to see it was from his Uncle George. It was dated from
New York City, and said:

  “DEAR NEPHEW RALPH:--

  “I am sending you a watch and chain for a Christmas present. I am
  sending it ahead of time as I am leaving the country to-morrow. Will
  let you have my address later. I expect to return in seven or eight
  months. Remember me to your father when you write to him.

  “Your affectionate uncle,

  “GEORGE H. OSBORN.”

“Oh,” Ralph exclaimed, “just listen to this, Creel,” and he read him
the letter. “Now let’s open the box.” He did so, and in it found a
handsome gold watch with a light gold chain attached to it. Ralph
was wild with delight. He had always wanted a watch and he was
enthusiastically happy to have such a beautiful one. “And just think,
Creel,” he said, “I can’t even thank my uncle; I don’t know where a
letter would reach him.”

“Indeed,” remarked Creelton, much interested; “how’s that, Os?”

“Well, you see none of us know anything about him; he left home twenty
years ago, and only occasionally writes us a letter. Sometimes he has
written us from New York and sometimes from London and other places,
but we don’t know what business he is in and he seldom tells us where
to address him. Now look at this letter. Uncle George doesn’t even know
that my father is dead.”

Ralph put his uncle’s letter in his table drawer and again both
youths delightedly examined and handled the watch. In the back it was
inscribed:

“To Ralph Osborn, from his uncle, George H. Osborn.”

The watch interfered with his studies for the rest of that morning.
Before going to drill, as he changed into working clothes, he carefully
placed his beloved treasure on a shelf in the wardrobe under some
towels. “I hope the thief won’t find it,” he remarked to Creelton. “I’m
almost afraid to let it be known that I have it.”

Creelton left and Ralph followed a few minutes later.

Just after drill, while Ralph was shifting from his working clothes to
his service uniform, Bollup and Himski came into his room.

“Hello!” cried Ralph. “Say, fellows, I’ve something to show you; my
Uncle George has sent me a watch. Here it is.”

Ralph went to his wardrobe, put his hand on the shelf and took out the
watch and chain.

“Isn’t it a beau----” Ralph started to say when a look of blank
amazement spread over his face.

“Why, why,” he feebly said, “this isn’t my watch, Bollup, why,
why--it’s yours--why, I don’t understand this; why, Bollup, my uncle
sent me a watch. I received it at eleven o’clock this morning; at four
o’clock, just before I went to drill, I put it in my wardrobe--this is
your watch, Bollup.”

“I should say it was, Osborn; it’s been mine for a couple of years. Now
look here, Osborn, there’s a thief in this Academy, and it’s up to you
to explain how you got this watch.” And Bollup looked keenly at Ralph.

“Bollup, you know as much as I do as to how I came in possession of
your watch.”

“Well, I’d like to know something more about the story of the watch
sent you by your uncle.”

“I most certainly shall insist upon everybody knowing about that,” said
Ralph. “The watch came by registered mail this morning, and with it a
letter from my Uncle George telling me he was sending it to me.”

“Of course you haven’t torn up the letter?” questioned Bollup in a
sneering tone.

“I have not. The letter is in my table drawer; I’ll show it to you.”
And Ralph drew open the drawer.

The letter was nowhere to be found.

Bollup turned shortly on his heel, and without another word left the
room, followed by Himski.

FOOTNOTES:

[3] “To bilge,” midshipman parlance for being dropped for failure in
studies, or violation of regulations.

[4] “To bone” is to study.




CHAPTER IX “INDIGNANT FOURTH CLASSMAN”


Ralph stood in the middle of his room helpless, dazed and stupefied.
In a moment hot feelings surged through his heart and uncontrolled
tears blinded his sight. He had lost his beautiful watch, true: this
was aggravating and annoying almost beyond endurance. But as Bollup so
abruptly left the room Ralph suddenly realized that Bollup believed him
to be a thief. Bollup, the man he loved, his best friend in all the
world! The thought was maddening. Ralph looked around helplessly, and
his eye lighted upon a crumpled bit of paper in the corner of the room.
It was the wrapper and box in which the watch had been sent. He seized
this and was about to rush out when Creelton entered.

“Hello, Os,” he said, in his bright, cheery way; “what’s up? Why, old
chap, what’s the matter with you?”

“Everything is the matter,” cried Ralph. “Come along with me; I need
you.” Ralph clutched him by the arm and hurried him down the corridor,
much to the astonishment of Creelton. In a moment Ralph had thrown open
the door of Bollup’s room, and still having Creelton by the arm, rushed
in.

“It’s awful to think such a thing of Os, but what can I believe?”
Bollup was saying to a group of his classmates, composed of Himski,
Taylor and Streeter. All were much disturbed and excited in manner.

“Bollup, you think I stole your watch!” exclaimed Ralph, bursting into
the conversation. “Can you imagine a thief would show you the watch
he had stolen from you, pretending it was a present from his uncle?
Look at that paper and box,” and Ralph threw them on the table before
Bollup. “That’s what my watch came in this morning. It was registered,
you can see for yourself. Creel saw the watch and the letter and knows
I received the watch. He saw me open the package and take it out. Ask
him; I haven’t spoken to him about it since I saw you.”

“What’s all this about?” asked Creelton, bewildered.

“It’s just this, Creel,” interrupted Himski; “Os told Bollup and me he
had received a watch from his Uncle George, and went to get the watch
out of his locker to show it to us: and it happened to be the watch
that had been stolen from Bollup. Os went to get the letter he said he
had received from his Uncle George but couldn’t find it, and he doesn’t
know his uncle’s address. Do you know anything about the watch Os
claims to have received?”

“Why, yes,” answered Creelton slowly; “a watch came to him this
morning. I saw it; it was a handsome gold watch, and also a chain came
with it.”

“What was inscribed on the inside case?” exclaimed Ralph, impatiently.

“‘Ralph Osborn, from his Uncle George,’ or something like that,”
replied Creelton deliberately.

“Did you see the letter he spoke of?” asked Himski.

“Yes, I read it. His uncle wrote from New York, and spoke of the watch
as a Christmas present; he said he was leaving the city and would write
later; I don’t remember exactly--but I saw the letter.”

“Fellows,” said Ralph, “I’m paralyzed, that’s all I can say. And I’m
suspected of being a thief! I’ve lost my beautiful watch, but that’s
a small thing in comparison.” Ralph spoke bitterly. “And there’s one
thing that’s got to be settled right now. I want to know just exactly
what you think of me.”

Himski crossed the room to where Ralph was standing with outstretched
hand, and said heartily, “That’s what I think of you, Os.”

Bollup came up and offered his hand and said: “Forgive me, Os, if I
need forgiveness. I’d rather bilge than believe that you had taken
these things. But great heavens, how can this thing be explained? My
watch is stolen. You receive a present of a watch and go to show it to
me, and on the end of your chain is my watch. There’s a dirty thief
here, fellows, and he’s got something against Os; that’s all there’s
about it. Os, you must have an enemy here.”

“I can’t imagine it,” replied Ralph; “enemies so dark and mysterious
don’t exist in real life; there isn’t a soul here I have ever had
trouble with. It’s beyond me, fellows.”

Everybody present assured Ralph of their belief in his innocence, and
Ralph felt better; Creelton now said: “Fellows, suppose we all agree
not to speak of this matter to any one; it will be distorted and rumors
will be spread about that will injure Os. Besides, if we----”

Ralph turned upon Creelton with flashing eyes and said: “Creel, do you
pretend to be a friend of mine?”

“Why, you know I am, Os,” replied Creelton weakly, and much surprised
at Ralph’s vehemence.

“Then don’t you ever propose to hush this matter up. We’re going to
see the commandant at nine to-morrow morning, you and I and Himski and
Bollup. We’ll tell him everything about it, and I want every one of you
to talk about this thing to everybody you know.”

“All right, Os, but I think my way is best.”

“Stop thinking that way, or I’ll stop thinking you’re a friend of
mine,” retorted Ralph.

The four midshipmen were before the commandant the next morning.
The latter asked innumerable questions and directed each to write a
complete statement detailing all he knew of the matter. In dismissing
them he said: “I congratulate you on having such staunch friends, Mr.
Osborn.”

The matter was discussed at great length by all midshipmen. The
general feeling throughout the battalion was that a thief was present,
probably one of the corridor boys, who had stolen Bollup’s watch and
had endeavored to have the theft fastened on Osborn. But the matter was
enveloped in so much mystery that no very clear ideas about it were
expressed.

Ralph was very fearful and much worried. He resolved, if anything were
said casting a reflection in any way upon him, to hold his temper and
immediately report the matter to the commandant.

One afternoon, a few days after this occurrence, Third Classman Coleman
came into his room. Ralph and Creelton immediately stood up, a mark of
respect always shown by plebes to upper classmen who enter their rooms.

“So, Mr. Osborn,” sneered Coleman, “somebody stole Mr. Bollup’s watch,
I hear, and the watch was found at the end of your chain. And so your
uncle, whom you have never seen, who lives, you do not know where, has
sent you a watch! Strange, about your uncle and the watch he sent you,
and the letter he wrote you, all of which have disappeared. Strange,
isn’t it, Mr. Osborn? So strange, in fact, as to be pretty thin.” And
Coleman’s lip curled in disgust.

“One minute, Mr. Coleman; I’ll give you a chance to say all that before
the commandant.”

“What are you going to do?” cried Coleman in alarm.

“I’m going to have you say that to the commandant, and I’m going to see
him this minute.”

“I order you not to; that’s personal. I direct you to do nothing of the
kind and I advise you to remember that I’m a third classman and you’re
a plebe.”

“Give me any orders as a third classman, you whippersnapper, and I’ll
report you for hazing. Now, get out of my room, you ugly-faced coward,
or I may forget myself.” Coleman, intimidated, withdrew. A few moments
later he was called to the commandant’s office and received a severe
reprimand, and next day was given twenty-five demerits, a punishment
that entailed loss of many esteemed privileges, for “using provoking
language to another midshipman.”

At this time, everybody at the Naval Academy, officers and their
families included, were tremendously interested in football. Some of
Ralph’s classmates, Himski and Streeter and Creelton, were playing
with the second team occasionally, and went out for practice every
day. Ralph had a feeling that he would like to try football, but he
was doing so poorly in his studies that he felt he could not afford
to. Football practice not only took up much time but also it was
exhausting, and after strenuous work at football a midshipman was
not apt to be in good shape for intense mental application. It was a
disastrous football season for Annapolis, and finally the Naval Academy
team went down to overwhelming defeat by West Point in Philadelphia on
December first.

In December the midshipmen of Ralph’s class in mathematics had algebra
and geometry. Ralph felt he was barely holding his own, yet he studied
conscientiously. He was improving in French, thanks to Creelton’s
constant help, though he stood very low in it. He did but indifferently
in rhetoric. In mathematics he felt he should be doing much better than
he was; as Ralph later discovered he put too much time on studying
the rules and the formulas and the way they were derived, instead of
working out problems. When one works out problems he naturally uses the
rules and these become impressed upon him. But in learning formulas and
rules one should also apply them in working out problems. Ralph trusted
to his knowledge of rules and principles and formulas to help him with
the problems he had to do in recitation and on examination, and in
doing this he was too slow to accomplish much.

On his December examination in geometry was a problem to prove that
the square of the hypotenuse of a right-angled triangle was equal to
the sum of the squares of the other two sides. In preparing for this
examination Ralph had felt so confident of this particular problem that
he had not reviewed it; but when he came to solve it he utterly failed.
He was amazed and disgusted, and made desperate efforts to do it, using
up far more time than he should have afforded for one question. He
finally gave it up and did the best he could in the remaining time. But
when he saw his month’s standing in mathematics he was alarmed. He had
made only 1.1 on the examination, and was unsatisfactory, having but
2.38 for the month.

“I’ll bilge sure,” said Ralph to Creelton, “unless I take a brace.” And
he did study hard.

The month of January was spent in reviewing the work already gone over,
and here Ralph’s good work in previous studying rules and formulas
helped him considerably and he did fairly well in his recitations. At
odd times he endeavored to prove in his own way the problem in geometry
at which he had so signally failed in the December examination, and by
the end of January, when the much dreaded semi-annual examinations were
to begin, Ralph felt he was well prepared. After this examination the
midshipmen who fail to make 2.50 for the term’s average are required to
resign, and between twenty and thirty fourth classmen are generally
found to be unsatisfactory each year.

“I’m on the Christmas tree,”[5] exclaimed Ralph to his roommate
before the examination commenced. “I’ve only got 2.57 to go into the
examination. Now let’s see. The examination mark has one-fourth weight.
Three times 2.57 is 7.71. This subtracted from 10.00 leaves 2.29. And
that’s what I’ve got to make on the exam; I ought to do that.”

“Of course you ought to, Os, and I’m sure you will,” replied Creelton.
“You are all right in French and rhetoric, aren’t you?”

“I think so, and I have so thoroughly reviewed the math and worked out
so many problems this month that I expect to make much more than a 2.50
on the exam.”

On the examination Ralph worked rapidly and he had a happy feeling he
was doing everything right. Two hours were spent on algebra and two on
geometry. After the examination he was confident he had made more than
the requisite 2.29, but he was feverishly hungry for a sight of the
marks.

On a Friday Bollup came into his room and said: “Let’s go down to the
bulletin-board, Os; the math marks ought to be posted by this time.”

“All right,” said Ralph, and they went down together. A crowd of
midshipmen were eagerly looking at the bulletin-board. On the board was
posted a large sheet with the names of midshipmen in two columns, they
being graduated according to their excellence. Ralph and Bollup crowded
in.

“You’re number two, Bollup,” called some one in the crowd; “Himski is
number one.”

Ralph looked up and down the right-hand column, containing the names
of the lower half of the class, looking for his own name, as had been
his wont. He could not find his name. He glanced up and down again and
failed to see “Osborn” anywhere in the column. Then he became worried;
he could not imagine why his name should not be there. That it was
possibly over in the first column, in the upper half of the class,
never occurred to him.

“Good gracious, Os,” suddenly called out Bollup, “but you did
everlastingly thump that geometry exam, didn’t you?”

“I can’t find my name,” cried Ralph excitedly; “where is it?”

“Number 35, Os, left-hand column. You made 3.82 on your geometry and
3.26 on your algebra; your average for the examination is 3.54, and for
the term 2.81.”

Ralph gave a wild “hurrah,” and feasted his eyes over these marks.
Never before had anything ever looked so beautiful to him. Now he felt
all his worries were over.

Two days later he was called to the office of the officer in charge.
“Osborn, sir,” he reported, saluting.

“Report to the superintendent’s office immediately, Mr. Osborn,”
directed Lieutenant Wilson.

“Very well, sir,” replied Ralph in great surprise, wondering what in
the world the superintendent could want with him. He was soon admitted
to the superintendent’s presence.

“Good-morning, Mr. Osborn,” said the latter, fixing his penetrating
gray eyes upon Ralph.

“Good-morning, sir. I was directed to report to you, sir.”

“Yes. I want you to read a letter I have just received.”

He picked up a paper from his desk and handed it to Ralph. It was as
follows:

  “_To the superintendent of the Naval Academy_:

  “I desire to call your attention to the fact that Midshipman Osborn
  of the fourth class made but 1.1 on his December examination in
  mathematics, and is credited with having made 3.54 on the semi-annual
  examination in the same subject. The two marks are incompatible.
  The explanation is that Midshipman Osborn had an algebra inside his
  coat, left-hand side, and a geometry on his right-hand side; during
  the examination I saw him use them. Osborn stole Bollup’s watch.
  This matter seems to have been hushed up. It is an outrage to his
  classmates and to all midshipmen that such a character should be
  retained at the Naval Academy.

  “INDIGNANT FOURTH CLASSMAN.”

FOOTNOTE:

[5] “Christmas tree,” a list of midshipmen published in December, who
are officially warned to be in danger of failing at the semi-annual
examinations.




CHAPTER X “THE OSBORN DEMONSTRATION”


Ralph read the letter, which was written in printed characters, through
slowly a second time. Then he looked up at the superintendent with a
troubled expression on his face.

“You needn’t say anything about the letter, Mr. Osborn,” the
superintendent remarked in a kindly tone. “It contains nothing but lies
and the writer is a contemptible coward. But have you any idea as to
who the writer may be?”

“Not the slightest, sir,” replied Ralph, much relieved at the
superintendent’s words. “Had you heard about Mr. Bollup’s watch being
stolen and of how it was found on my watch-chain, sir?”

“Oh, yes, I have the letters you four young gentlemen wrote before me
now. Do you think this letter was written by a midshipman or somebody
else?”

“I have no idea, sir; I can’t imagine any midshipman would wish to hurt
me. I have never had any trouble that amounted to anything with anybody
here, except Mr. Short; you know about that, sir.”

“Yes, and Mr. Short is a long ways off. I’ll keep this letter
carefully and perhaps something may turn up----”

“Sir, may I offer a suggestion?”

“Certainly, Mr. Osborn; what is it?”

“I would request that that letter be published to the battalion with
your order that the writer of it, if a midshipman, should report to
you.”

The superintendent thought a moment and then said: “I won’t publish the
letter, that could do no good, but I will have an order read requiring
the writer of a letter to me signed ‘Indignant Fourth Classman’ to
report to me. Now, Mr. Osborn, whenever a charge of any kind is made
against any person in the Navy it is always investigated. So I have
directed Professor Scott to go over your papers himself, and then to
come here with them. I expect him here in a few moments--here he is
now. Good-morning, professor.”

“Good-morning, admiral. I have been over Mr. Osborn’s papers, and----”

“One minute, professor; just read this letter and you will know why
I had you go over Mr. Osborn’s semi-annual examination papers in
mathematics.”

The professor read the letter, and then indignantly threw it down on
the desk. “That’s contemptible, sir; in his work Mr. Osborn has shown
thorough comprehension. In his algebra questions Mr. Osborn stumbled
somewhat on a few of the problems but in every case displayed a good
knowledge of the principles involved. A number of answers he obtained
by original methods; this has pleased me very much. In spite of his low
marks last month--I looked into that--he has shown a real knowledge,
and has not made his good marks by means merely of a good memory. But
his geometry paper is magnificent, admiral,” continued Professor Scott,
enthusiastically. “Had I been the one to have first marked his paper
I would have called attention to a beautiful piece of original work.
In the December examination he stumbled over the problem in geometry
of proving the square of the hypotenuse of a right-angled triangle is
equal to the sum of the squares of the other two sides. He clean forgot
how to do it; the same problem was given in the semi-annual, and Mr.
Osborn proved it in his own way by a method I have never before seen
or heard of. I have examined every book we have in the department and
can find no mention of this method. I talked with every one of my
assistants and all were delighted with Mr. Osborn’s method. I suppose
the method must be known; it’s not possible that Mr. Osborn could be
the original discoverer of it, but I’ve never seen the method before
nor can I find any one who has; admiral, here it is----” and Professor
Scott took one of the sheets of Ralph’s paper on which was written the
following:

[Illustration]

_Question_:

Prove the square of the hypotenuse of a right-angled triangle, is equal
to the sum of the squares of the other two sides.

_Demonstration_:

Let ABC be a right-angled triangle.

To prove (AB)^{2} = (AC)^{2} + (BC)^{2}.

On AB erect the square ABED. Draw BM parallel and equal to AC. From A
erect a perpendicular through M.

By inspection triangle AMB = triangle ABC.

From point E drop a perpendicular to the line BM. The triangle thus
formed, ENB, having a side and angles equal to a side and angles of
triangle AMB, is seen by inspection to be equal to triangle AMB, and
therefore to triangle ABC. Hence BN is equal to BC.

In a similar way construct the triangles ADH and DKE. By inspection
each of these is seen to be equal to triangle ABC.

The square erected on AB is thus equal to four times the triangle ABC
plus the rectangle HMNK.

Rectangle HMNK = MN × MH.

MN = BM - BN = AC - BC.

MH = AH - AM = AC - BC.

Four times area of triangle ABC = 4 × (1/2) AC × BC.

Hence (AB)^{2} = 4 × (1/2) AC × BC + (AC - BC) (AC - BC) = 2 AC × BC +
(AC)^{2} - 2 AC × BC + (BC)^{2}. Or, (AB)^{2} = (AC)^{2} + (BC)^{2}. Q.
E. D.

“Now, admiral,” continued the delighted professor, “I’m going to send
Mr. Osborn’s demonstration to some of the colleges and mathematical
societies. Although it is original with Mr. Osborn, at least I imagine
that it is, I really cannot believe that it is possible that he is the
first discoverer of this method. If it should prove that Mr. Osborn is
the original person who has ever used this method it will go down in
the books as ‘The Osborn Demonstration.’”

“How did you happen to fall on that method, Mr. Osborn?” asked the
admiral.

“Why, sir, I failed miserably on this question in the December
examination and afterward I was determined to get it without referring
to the book. One time when I was working at it, wondering why I
couldn’t do it, I happened to erect the square on the hypotenuse and
somehow drew in the triangles. Then when I looked at the figure I
started to add up the areas of the different triangles and the square
in the center and it all worked out naturally.”

“It’s an algebraic rather than a geometrical proof, or rather a
combination of both,” remarked Professor Scott, “and Mr. Osborn
deserves much credit. And as for the statement that Mr. Osborn
cheated by carrying books in the examination with him, why that is as
ridiculous as it is false and contemptible.”

“That is just my notion,” assented the superintendent. “Now, Mr.
Osborn, don’t worry about this letter and don’t talk with anybody about
it. There is undoubtedly somebody determined to do you terrible injury,
but I think we can take care of you. Keep your eyes wide open, say
nothing, not even to your closest friend, and if you learn anything
whatever come to me immediately.”

Ralph left the superintendent’s office in a very happy and comfortable
state of mind. He was indeed perplexed at the persistent hidden enmity
that had been displayed against him, and for which he could imagine no
cause, but he felt that he had a powerful friend who would protect him.

The next month, February, Ralph was in the fourth section in
mathematics. The regular instructor assigned to this section was sick
so that the head of the department, Professor Scott, took the section.
He displayed much interest in Ralph’s work; this was apparent to all,
and inspired by this Ralph devoted himself to preparing his recitations
with a zest he had never felt before. He worked enough on his rhetoric
and French to get satisfactory marks in these subjects, but in most of
his study hours and much of his leisure after drill and on Saturdays
and Sundays he devoted himself to his algebra. Before going to
recitations he had always studied the principles carefully and worked
out most, if not all of the problems.

At the end of February the monthly examinations were held.

“How did you do, Os?” asked Creelton, after they had returned to their
rooms.

“I feel I hammered it hard. How did you do, Creel?”

“Oh, I biffed it. I’ve good recitation marks and hope to stand number
one this month. I’d like to cook Himski and Bollup this month.”

“I hope you did well,” said Ralph heartily. “I suppose you fellows in
the first section will all stay there, but I hope I may pull up into
the second.”

“That would be a good rise for you, Os; I hope you will. You’ve been
working hard at math this month and will probably land in the third
section if you don’t make the second.”

While Ralph, Creelton, Bollup and Streeter were returning together from
drill a few days later, Bollup said: “Hello, there’s a crowd at our
bulletin-board; I guess our math marks are posted.”

They all ran up to the board, Bollup leading. As soon as he had looked
at the bulletin-board he gave a yell and cried:

“Jumping Jehoshaphat! Ralph Osborn! Just look at those marks. By
the tall American green-eyed prophet, you made a 4.0 on every daily
recitation in the month, and to make matters worse, knocked a cold 4.0
on the exam!”

Ralph looked with staring eyes. He had the sensation of the man who
has won the capital prize in a lottery. Many were the exclamations of
surprise from his classmates when they saw what Ralph had done. Most of
the fourth section had risen in class rank, and much credit was given
to Professor Scott’s illuminating instruction by the young men who had
been in his section; and now all of these declared they had known that
Osborn had been doing excellent work and they were not at all surprised
he had landed first in the class. But Ralph in his secret heart felt
that Professor Scott had been very generous to him in his daily marks.

“And only a month ago I was in danger of being bilged,” remarked Ralph
to Creelton when they entered their room.

Creelton did not answer, but slammed things around in a very angry way.

“What’s the matter with you?” asked Ralph in surprise.

“Do you think I like being cooked by everybody?” snapped Creelton. “You
and Bollup and Himski all came out ahead of me; I stood number seven; I
ought to have stood one.”

“If you can only make a 3.32 on such an easy exam you’ve no right to
stand even number seven,” returned Ralph with spirit. “As you didn’t
deliver the goods and other people did, I fail to agree that you
should have stood number one or any number higher than the one given
you.”

“You talk mighty big for a man whom I saved from bilging in French last
term,” retorted Creelton.

“You offered to help me; I didn’t ask it. And you did help me a great
deal and I thanked you then and I thank you now. But that has nothing
whatever to do with the matter we’re talking about.”

“Great heavens! Will you shut up? I wish I had never seen you. Oh, I
can’t stand it!” And Creelton burst into tears, and dropping heavily
into a chair by the study table, he flung his head down on his arms and
sobbed convulsively.

“Why, Creel, don’t feel badly, old fellow; I’m awfully sorry,” and
Ralph, much touched as well as astonished, went to Creelton and tried
to comfort him, but to no avail. Then, much perplexed, he left the
room and went off to see Bollup. Later when he returned, Creelton, now
entirely over his sad feelings, said: “Os, please excuse and forgive my
words. I cannot tell you how disappointed I was; I had counted so much
on standing number one; and getting class rank of seven was a bitter
blow to me; I just gave way to my feelings.”

“Don’t speak of it--it’s all right; let’s talk of something else,”
returned Ralph. “It seems glorious to stand number one, but I’ll never
keep it. You may get it next month; cheer up, Creel.”




CHAPTER XI THIRD CLASSMAN OSBORN


“How the time has passed, Os; we’ve finished our an exams, and it seems
as if it were only yesterday when we were worrying about our semi-ans.”

“You mean when I was worrying, Bollup,” replied Ralph Osborn. “You
never got out of the first section in math and have stood well up in
French and rhetoric, while four months ago I was worrying about bilging
in math.”

“Wasn’t that remarkable? And now you’re the math fiend of the class!
How in the world was it that you did so poorly the first three months?”

“I didn’t know how to study for one thing. Another thing the lessons
were long and I was more afraid of French and rhetoric and slighted
math. I put in all of my time on learning principles and rules and
didn’t try to work out probs till I got to the section room, and then
I always took too long. I know better now. But these three months have
gone quickly, haven’t they? And we’ll be third classmen in ten days;
won’t that be glorious?”

“You bet, Os, and we’ll teach some of the plebes who enter how to
stand on their heads, sing songs, climb on top of wardrobes, dance jigs
and so forth. We’ll know how to teach them all right, won’t we, old
chap?”

“Not I, Bollup,” replied Ralph, determinedly.

“Why not? Good gracious, man! Aren’t you going to have a little fun and
give the newcomer a few points on naval discipline, rocks, shoals, and
hazards? We had our share of it and none of us is the worse for it; all
plebes need a little good running and the new ones will feel slighted
if they don’t get some; and besides the upper classmen will expect us
to do it. That’s part of the Academy training; if we don’t start the
new plebes right they’ll be too cheeky and fresh to live with. We’ve
got to do it, old man, and you’ll have to do your share.” Bollup spoke
earnestly.

“Your ideas are all right, Bollup, but I’m not going to do any running
whatever,” remarked Ralph quietly.

“Why not, Os; are you afraid of being spotted?”

“Just so. I wouldn’t dare to.”

“It seems to me you’re not worrying about the rest of your classmates,”
said Bollup with a sneer.

“You forget about your watch being stolen and then found on my
watch-chain.”

“Well, what on earth has that got to do with your doing a little
running?” cried Bollup in evident surprise.

“A great deal. There’s somebody here, I have never been able to imagine
who, that wants to get me into trouble. If I should run anybody I’d be
sure to be reported for hazing, and that would mean certain dismissal.
I’m going to walk a straight line and never so much as speak to a
plebe.”

“By George! That watch affair was a most remarkable thing. I don’t
blame you, Os. And you have no notion whatever who might have done it?”

“Not the slightest. It must have been a corridor boy or a midshipman;
that’s as close as I can get to it.”

“I don’t blame you. Hello! Here’s Creel. Say, Creel, how did you come
out on the exams?”

“Pretty well, I think. But I guess Himski will stand number one in the
class for the year. But if Os keeps up his record in math I bet he’ll
give him a close run for it next year. Say, fellows, we’re going to
start the new plebes right, aren’t we?”

“Well, I should hope so, all of us except Os.”

“What’s the matter, Os? Aren’t you going to do your duty by them?”

“Not I, Creel; I’ll talk to you about that later.”

The time between the events of the last chapter and the above
conversation had simply flown by for the midshipmen of Ralph’s class.
For Ralph it had been an uneventful time. Each day had its hard work
of studies, recitations and drills, and the end of his first year
was now upon him. The second term was most satisfactory to him. He
had developed a remarkable ability of quickly solving mathematical
problems and in this subject he was now easily first in his class.
Sometimes, with great regret, he thought of his watch; and whenever he
thought about it he was always tremendously puzzled. He could not even
imagine a solution to the mystery, but no further acts of hostility
had developed against him by his unknown foe. Ralph did not worry
about this unknown enemy but sometimes he wondered. The only man he
could imagine who would harbor ill feelings against him was Short, but
the latter was far away and Ralph had never heard of him since his
dismissal.

Ralph’s average for the two terms in mathematics was 3.30, which gave
him class rank of 17 in that subject. In rhetoric he was number 61, and
in French number 73. His final rank in his class was 41. But in the
other remaining years mathematics would become more and more important
and Ralph had a feeling that by the time he graduated he would have
high class rank.

Graduation happened on a bright June morning. The battalion was marched
to the tune of: “Ain’t I glad to get out of the Wilderness,” to the
chapel where the ceremonies were held. And each midshipman felt with
joy he was getting out of the wilderness. At the Naval Academy, this
tune has for many years been sacredly kept for that one day, and
all midshipmen love it. Ralph and his classmates emerged after the
graduation as third classmen, feeling far more important with their
promotion than did the young men who had just been graduated. They
immediately sat in the seats and walked in parts of the grounds that,
as fourth classmen, they had been debarred from. And they enjoyed the
great boon of addressing the now second and first classmen by name
without the prefix of “mister.” And these young men were delighted to
be “plebes” no longer, but “youngsters,” as third classmen are called
at Annapolis.

On this night occurred the beautiful graduation ball. Ralph went but
proved to be a wall-flower. He did not know any young ladies and would
not have dared to dance even if he had, but he enjoyed the beautiful
scene. “But I’ll go next year and dance too,” he remarked to his
roommate, as they stood in a crowd of midshipmen, watching the dancers.

The next morning the midshipmen embarked aboard different ships for
the summer practice cruise. Several ships had been detailed for this
purpose, and Ralph with Bollup, Creelton, Himski and others of his
class, was assigned to the monitor _Puritan_.

This was Saturday morning. On the night before not all midshipmen
had been at the graduation ball, or at least had not spent the whole
evening there, for shortly after ten o’clock a midshipman might have
been seen to enter the Maryland Hotel. He did not stop at the desk
to make inquiries but immediately ran up-stairs, then down the long
corridor, and then knocked at the door of a room.

“Come in,” was heard from the inside, and the midshipman entered.

“Hello, Short!” he cried out. “Gracious, man, what a mustache you are
wearing; I wouldn’t have known you. I’m glad to see you.”

“I doubt that. And don’t call me Short; I’ve registered here as
Johnson, so call me Tom. I’ve just got here and I’m going to leave by
the midnight special. I don’t care to have anybody who knew me a year
ago know I’ve been in town.”

“I suppose not; not if you’re still on that lay of hurting Osborn.”

“Of course I’m still on that lay,” said Short in sudden passion, “and
I’ll continue on that lay until that fellow gets just as nasty a turn
as he did me. When that account is squared I’ll forget him. I’ve come
down for the particular reason of telling you I’m not satisfied with
the way you’ve handled your part of the job. I’ve come to tell you that
you’ve got to take a brace.”

“None could have done it better, Short. If it hadn’t been that he
voluntarily took the watch out to show it he never could have explained
away his possession of it. I wrote you all about that. I did my part
well.”

“Yes, but I planned it,” growled the other; “and it is only success
that proves a thing nowadays.”

“You only planned part of it; you didn’t know anything about his uncle
sending him the watch as a present, nor of the letter.”

“Neither did you. That should have made things easier for you. I
believe you’re welching, that’s my opinion; and look here, if you are,
and I don’t get Osborn, why I’ll get you good and hard. And you’d
better believe I mean business.”

Short spoke savagely, his temper strongly aroused.

“Now look here, Short,” interposed the other, “I’ve not welched, and
you ought to know it. But I’ll admit I’m sick of my job and I’m going
to ask you to let me out of it.”

“Why are you sick of it?” inquired Short in a sneering tone.

“For one reason because I like him. He’s a fine, generous, good fellow
and he looks upon me as one of his best friends. I’ve not a thing
against him; he’s never done me a single ill turn and I’ve no reason
to dislike him. This thing is on my mind all the time and I’m sick of
the job. Now I want you to let me out of it. I’ll repay you the money
you’ve advanced to me----”

“I thought you were a welcher,” cut in Short contemptuously, “and I
know what you’ve done is not from any love of me; you’re my man, bought
and paid for; do you understand that? And if you fail me I’ll send you
to jail, just as sure as I’m sitting here.”

“Sh, Tom, don’t talk so loud; some one may hear.”

“They’ll hear a good deal about you before long if you don’t stand up
to your job. Now look here; I’ll be a good boss but you’ve got to do
what I tell you to do. You’re my man, now don’t forget that. I suppose
I’m a villain; I don’t care anything about that. I don’t want any
physical harm to come to Osborn; that isn’t what I’m after. But he had
me dismissed in disgrace and I intend that he shall have a dose of the
same medicine; you’ve got to do the work, that’s all there is about it.”

“It’s mighty dirty work, Tom,” said the other bitterly.

“Not a bit dirtier than when you deliberately stole two hundred dollars
from me. And you’ve taken my money right along without any kicking;
it’s too late for you to get tender about the work you’re doing.”

The other turned pale and looked troubled. His voice shook as he
replied: “Well, Tom, there’s no use whatever of trying to put Osborn
in the soup while the present superintendent and commandant are here.
They know somebody is after Osborn--I wrote you all about that. After
the letter I sent in signed ‘Indignant Fourth Classman’ Osborn was
called to the superintendent’s office. What occurred there none of us
know; he has kept mum about it, and of course I couldn’t afford to be
inquisitive. Then after that came the superintendent’s order directing
the person who signed that letter to report to him; you see there’s no
use for us to put up any job on him now. We’d simply defeat our own
ends, that’s all. You’d better drop it for the time, Tom.”

“Perhaps you’re right; later on it would come harder to him than now.
But that fellow must be dismissed. Look here, can’t you get him on
hazing?”

“I could easily if he would haze, but he knows the man that tried to
have him accused of stealing and of cheating would report him if he
hazed; I’ve heard him say so and he’s not going to do any.”

“I’m not particular about having him go for hazing because that isn’t
considered dishonorable, though that would be better than having him
graduate. There’s no chance of his bilging in his studies?”

“Not the slightest; he’s a regular math fiend.”

“How about the cruise? Couldn’t you arrange for something to happen
there?”

“Look here, Tom, I’m not going to do anything that will fall back
on top of me. If I can fix him to your satisfaction and not to be
suspected I will. Now if that doesn’t suit you, you had better call for
a policeman and have me put in jail. That’s all I’ve got to say.”

“If you don’t do what I tell you to do I most certainly shall put you
in jail, depend on that. I won’t force you as to time, and if you can’t
do anything while the present superintendent and commandant are here,
because of their interest in Osborn, I won’t force you. You must make
and take your time. Here’s a couple of hundred dollars----”

“I won’t take any more money from you!” vehemently exclaimed the
midshipman.

“Oh, drop that kind of talk. Take the money and go. That’s all; we
understand each other. If you welch you are going to be jammed and will
be kicked out of the Academy in the same way your friend Thomas G.
Short was.”

The midshipman stood irresolute. His eyes glittered; he approached the
table where the roll of bills lay; then suddenly grabbing the money, he
bolted out of the room.

Short gave a low, harsh laugh as his visitor left. “He’ll stay bought,”
he muttered, as he packed his grip preparing to leave.




CHAPTER XII CHIEF WATER TENDER HESTER


“All hands up anchor! Turn out everybody, lash and carry! Bear a hand,
show a leg there, out you go!” were the rude cries aboard the _Puritan_
at a little after five o’clock Monday morning. The _Puritan_ was
getting under way and left early, her captain wanting to take advantage
of the high tide that existed at that hour. The midshipmen had slung
their hammocks in a confined space inside the superstructure, and first
classmen were turning them out. They bawled and yelled; Ralph Osborn
was sleeping soundly at that hour and didn’t fully comprehend what it
was all about until one of the first classmen stooping directly under
Ralph’s hammock, having noticed that the occupant had made no move
toward turning out, suddenly raised himself and Ralph was instantly
spilled out of his hammock. He lit feet first, and now wide awake
started to lash his hammock. Everything was in confusion on the deck,
for a number had been turned out in this same unceremonious fashion.

Cries of: “Bear a hand, get your hammocks on deck,” hastened him and
soon his hammock was neatly lashed and was in its netting. For two
hours after that, as far as Ralph was concerned, nothing whatever
happened. The old monitor steamed out the narrow-dredged channel
leading from the Severn River to Chesapeake Bay. On the bridge were the
captain and several other officers navigating the ship, and forward an
officer in charge of the anchors walked up and down.

Ralph longed for the good old days of the previous summer when he would
have been busily engaged hauling on different ropes; but now, longing
to do something, and there being nothing whatever for him to do, he
walked about listlessly.

“If they won’t let us work why didn’t they let us sleep? What was the
good of dumping us out in that style?” he complained to Bollup.

“Custom, Os, custom. When a navy ship gets under way everybody has a
station and must be there, no matter whether he has anything to do or
not. Same thing happens when a ship comes to anchor. Everything in the
Navy is run by regulation or custom. Why, there was an old regulation
years ago that required a ship to let go her anchor if she went
aground. Well, a lieutenant named Percival one time was officer of the
deck of a ship that went aground. ‘Let go both anchors!’ he shouted.
‘Can’t do it, sir,’ yelled back the boatswain’s mate on the forecastle;
‘they’re not bent to the chains.’

“‘Bother the difference,’ shouted back Percival. ‘Let ’em go, I say;
if we lose the ship, it’ll be logged we went ashore according to the
rules, regulations and customs of the service,’ and the anchors were
dropped, though they were not attached to the chain cables. And so, Os,
we were turned out not for any useful exercise, but just because it is
the custom for everybody to be up when the ship gets under way.”

“Stuff,” remarked Ralph disdainfully. “Do you believe that yarn?”

“Of course I do. Anderson of the first class just told me, Captain
Waddell told him, Admiral Farragut told Waddell just before he
said, when they were running by the forts at New Orleans, ‘Damn the
torpedoes, go ahead,’ and years before that Lieutenant Percival told
Admiral----”

“Hold on there, Bollup, Admiral Farragut said that at Mobile Bay,
not at New Orleans. How in the world did you ever pass your history
entrance exam? and as for that yarn about Percival, pshaw, I don’t
believe it ever happened. Hello, there is the bugle call for breakfast.
Goodness, I’m glad we’re going to get something to eat.”

After breakfast the midshipmen were divided into different sections for
instruction. The first prescribed lesson in seamanship was: “How many
anchors are there aboard? Tell the difference between bower, sheet,
steam and kedge anchors. Tell what each anchor aboard weighs. Name the
different parts of an anchor. How secure an anchor for sea; how secure
for letting go?”

The prescribed lesson in steam engineering was: “What kind of boilers
and engines are installed aboard this ship? What pipes and valves does
the steam pass through in going from the boilers to the engines? What
valves do you open and shut to pump water into a boiler?”

In electricity the lesson was: “Tell what you find on the switchboard,
and the use of each.”

In gunnery: “Go into the turret, mention the different mechanisms you
find, and tell how and for what purpose each is used.” These were for
the third classmen. The first classmen had more advanced lessons,
and were also given responsible duties with the navigator and chief
engineer, and as officer of the deck.

“We’ll be busy this cruise,” remarked Ralph to Creelton, as the third
classmen were copying their prescribed lessons in the various subjects
from the bulletin-boards. “We work at our seamanship from eight-thirty
until nine-thirty then study, and then at our gunnery from eleven until
noon. Then from one until two we are in the engine and fire rooms, and
from two until three in the dynamo room. Officers are to go around with
us and explain things and answer questions, and we put things down in
our note-books. Then each night we have to hand in our note-books with
the answers to the prescribed lessons written out. By gracious! But
this will keep us busy, and the officers, too. But we ought to learn a
lot.”

The lessons were changed each day, and at different times the
instruction periods were changed to practical drills; and whenever the
ship was at anchor the midshipmen were always exercised at rowing and
sailing. Whenever the _Puritan_ was under way the midshipmen at all
times were to be seen going about the different parts of the ship,
asking questions of enlisted men and officers, jotting down notes
and making sketches. Much knowledge was absorbed of the different
mechanisms in the ship and their manipulation; all were being fitted to
familiarity with them, which after long years of experience makes the
competent officer.

In a few days the _Puritan_ was anchored off the ship-building works at
Newport News. Here parties of midshipmen were sent ashore on tours of
inspection under charge of different officers.

Before starting ashore on Thursday morning, Ralph Osborn noticed a
group of enlisted men on the quarter-deck. These men had made requests
for extra leave, more than had been allowed them by the executive
officer. The latter was Lieutenant-Commander Graham who was considered
to be a very efficient officer but one especially severe with the
enlisted men.

“You men can’t have forty-eight hours’ liberty,” Ralph heard him say.
“We leave Saturday morning for the North and I’ll not have anybody out
of the ship later than six o’clock to-morrow evening. Those of you who
are on the first conduct grade and want that may give in your names
to the ship’s writer. That’s all you’ll get and you needn’t ask for
anything more. And if any of you are not on the first conduct grade you
needn’t ask for that. Now clear out, all of you.”

All of the men but one touched their caps and moved forward. This one
saluted and in a voice full of suppressed emotion said: “Sir, I request
special permission to speak to you. My wife lives in this town and she
is sick with typhoid fever. I haven’t had any liberty, I’m classed--but
I’ve just received word she is very bad; could you, sir, could you let
me go over to see her for just a couple of hours? I’ll promise you to
be back on time, sir!”

The speaker was a tall, neatly-dressed man, about thirty years old. He
was smooth shaven, and his face was what would be called a strong one;
strong for good, or perhaps for evil if led in a wrong way. Such a face
betokened an impulsive, warm-hearted character. To Ralph the anguish of
his face, and the trembling of his voice were most appealing.

“Poor fellow! I do hope Mr. Graham will let him go,” he observed to
Creelton.

Lieutenant-Commander Graham looked fixedly at the man before him. There
was no hope of kindness in his cold gray eyes. “Your name is Collins,
isn’t it?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Let me see. Three weeks ago at Annapolis, while you were on the second
conduct grade and not entitled to liberty, you brought a telegram to
the mast which said: ‘Mother very low; come at once,’ did you not?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And the captain let you go for three days and you took six.”

“Yes, sir, my mother lingered, my wife was taken sick then, I couldn’t
leave; I telegraphed the captain for an extension but didn’t get it. I
was sorry to break my liberty, sir, but when a man’s mother dies----”
and Collins’ voice broke.

“Oh, yes, I know all about that, and in many years’ service I’ve
invariably noticed that whenever an enlisted man comes to the mast with
a telegram that his mother is dead he’s never on the first conduct
grade; he’s always on the second, third or fourth grade. No, you can’t
go. You were put in the fourth conduct grade for three months by my
special advice to the captain. I’ve no use for liberty breakers, and
you’re not going to work me, not a bit of it. No, you can’t go ashore,
not for a minute. I advise you to tell your wife she’d better get sick
only when you’re on the first conduct grade.”

Collins turned pale and his lips twitched.

“Go forward and get to your work,” ordered Mr. Graham roughly.

“Sir, I request permission to see the captain.”

“I am commanding officer. Captain Waddell is in Washington.”

“Sir, I beg of you----”

“That will do; go forward.”

Ralph was thunderstruck as well as deeply grieved at what he had
just seen and heard. “I’m so sorry for that poor fellow,” he said to
Creelton; “I do wish Mr. Graham would let him go.”

As Collins walked forward he was joined by another enlisted man, one of
older appearance. He took Collins by the arm and talked earnestly to
him. Collins was wild with anger and vehement in his speech but finally
cooled down. The older man then walked aft to the officer of the deck
and said: “I request permission to speak to the executive officer, sir.”

“You’re late, Hester; the executive officer has finished with the mast.”

“It’s not nine-thirty yet, sir, and this is a special matter. The
executive officer’s posted order says he will see the enlisted men
until half-past nine.”

“Very well. I’ll send for him.”

“What a fine-looking enlisted man,” said Ralph Osborn to Creelton.
“I’ve seen him in the fire room; he’s a chief water tender, and he was
awfully good about answering my questions; but he was of course pretty
dirty down there. I’d no idea he was such a splendid man in appearance.”

“He’s a good looker, no doubt about that,” agreed Creelton, “but I
didn’t have as much luck as you had. I asked him lots of questions
but didn’t get much out of him. He was polite, but evidently wasn’t
interested in me.”

Hester was indeed a man good to look at. His face indicated strength
and character; and the square jaw and determined blue eyes made one
feel he would accomplish what he set out to do.

“What is it, Hester?” demanded the executive officer, coming up.

“Sir, I am on the liberty list, and I request special permission to
go at one o’clock to-day instead of at five o’clock, when the liberty
party goes.”

“Granted, if the chief engineer can spare you. Anything else?”

“Yes, sir; I request my liberty be extended till six o’clock to-morrow
night with permission to come aboard to-night to sleep.”

“Granted, under same conditions.”

“Thank you, sir.” Hester saluted and walked forward where he was
immediately joined by Collins.

Soon after the midshipmen were taken ashore to visit the ship-building
works, and Ralph saw wonderful sights. The machine that most impressed
him was the “shears,” as it was properly called. These shears cut great
iron plates over an inch in thickness “as quickly and as easily,” Ralph
thought, “as I can cut a piece of paper with a pair of scissors.” And
then he saw riveting machines, and wonderful hundred-ton steam hammers
at work. He returned aboard much impressed.

While he was at his mess-table at supper that evening First Classman
Anderson passed and sang out: “Osborn, you have a forecastle anchor
watch from eleven till midnight to-night. What’s your hammock billet?”

“Twenty-seven; will I be called?”

“The man you relieve will attend to that unless he wants an extra
hour’s watch. Creelton is your relief; find out where he sleeps, and
call him, will you?”

“All right. I guess I’ll be sleepy enough at midnight to be anxious to
see him.”

Ralph turned out at eleven and relieved Streeter.

“There’s nothing much to turn over, Os,” said Streeter. “The steam
launch is secured at the starboard boom; the catamaran is at the port.
Anderson is the midshipman officer of the deck and Jenson is the
midshipman quartermaster of the watch. Everything’s quiet. Report any
boat you see coming alongside; the enlisted anchor watch are sleeping
on the deck just forward of the executive’s office. That’s all; I’m
sleepy. Good-night.”

Ralph walked up and down the forecastle deck on the starboard side.
There was nothing for him to do except to keep awake, and it didn’t
seem at all likely that anything would occur in the hour he was on
watch. It was a still night; the moon was fall, the water about the
ship perfectly calm. Soon after he was on watch he noticed a small
rowboat approaching the ship.

“Boat ahoy!” he called out.

“Liberty man!” was the reply from the boat. The boat came alongside the
port gangway, and Hester stepped aboard.

“I’ve come aboard to sleep; I’m on liberty till six to-morrow
afternoon, sir,” reported Hester to Midshipman Anderson.

“Very well, Hester,” and the latter walked forward. Nearly half an hour
later Ralph saw him at the scuttle-butt drinking a glass of water.

“Why don’t you turn in?” he inquired.

“I’m going to, sir; I had an important message to deliver to an oiler
named Collins. I’ve just been to the hospital where his wife is sick.
I’ve been there several times to-day and I wanted to tell Collins about
her. I’m going to turn in now.”

“How is she?” asked Ralph much interested.

“Pretty sick, I’m afraid, Mr. Osborn,” replied Hester, leaving.

“I must have made an impression on that fine fellow,” reflected Ralph,
“for him to have remembered my name. Well, I wish midnight would come;
I’m getting sleepy.”

He walked up and down the forecastle; it seemed a long hour to him.
He did not know that just inside the open door of the superstructure a
pair of dark, anxious eyes were watching his every move. Finally, at
five minutes of twelve, Ralph left the forecastle to wake up Creelton.

At that instant a man quickly ran out on the deck, jumped up on the
lower boom from which the catamaran, a square ended boat used by the
men who paint the ship’s side, was tied, and hauled up the catamaran;
he slid into this, and with feverish hands untied the boat’s painter,
cast it off and commenced to scull rapidly away.

Ralph had called Creelton and came out of the midshipmen’s sleeping
quarters to the port side of the ship’s side. His eyes immediately
lit upon the boat, and in the bright moonlight he could see the
vigorous work of the man sculling. He looked at the port boom and saw
the catamaran was missing, and he immediately knew that some one was
running away with it. Though he did not have much time to think he
realized that this was happening during his watch and he might be held
responsible for not having prevented it, and that his reputation might
suffer badly.

“Boat ahoy!” he shouted and then running aft to the quarter-deck,
called out at the top of his voice: “A man is running away with the
catamaran, sir.”

Quick as a report from a gun came snappy orders from the watchful
officer of the deck, Midshipman Anderson.

“Quartermaster, break out the anchor watch on the double. Osborn, help
me lower this dinghy; quick, man, quick.”




CHAPTER XIII OILER COLLINS JUMPS SHIP


“Lower your forward fall, lively! Now unhook. Jump in! Pile in, you
anchor watch men; in you go, Jenson; shove off and get that catamaran.”

“Out oars, give way together,” snapped out Jenson who was in the stern
of the dinghy to the four men at the oars. “Osborn, you stand up in
the bow with a boat-hook. Give way hard, men, bend your backs. Stroke!
Stroke! Stroke! Stroke!” called out Jenson.

“There he is, dead ahead, half-way to the shore,” cried out Ralph
excitedly.

“Lift her, men, lift her up. Stroke! Stroke! Stroke! Harder! Harder!”

The dinghy was rapidly overhauling the catamaran. In the catamaran
could be seen the figure of a man standing up, working furiously at
his sculling oar. The bright full moon, low down in the sky and behind
his back, cast his wavering shadow in the water in a long, undulating,
snake-like movement. But though he had a good start there was no hope
for him in this fierce chase, and when he was a hundred yards from
the shore the dinghy was almost on top of him and would be up to him
in a second. He gave one quick glance to the shore, and then with a
despairing, agonizing cry of: “My God, my God,” he threw down his oar
and leaped into the black water about him.

“Starboard your helm,” called out Ralph, as he stood in the bow of the
dinghy, with the boat-hook in his two hands. A second later he saw the
man just ahead and on the port bow of the dinghy, swimming frantically.
He plunged the boat-hook down inside the collar of the swimmer’s shirt
and then gave the boat-hook a quick turn. “I’ve got him,” he cried.
“Now help get him aboard.” The man, completely vanquished, made no
resistance, and was quickly hauled aboard.

[Illustration: He saw the man just ahead, and on the port bow, swimming
frantically]

“Come aft, Osborn, and sit beside this fellow, and if he makes the
slightest movement, nab him; don’t let him jump. Number one port oar,
get hold of the painter of the catamaran and pass it aft. We’ll tow the
catamaran back; and there’s the oar, pick that up.”

Ralph recognized the man to be Collins, the oiler. The latter sat in
the dinghy’s stern, with his head in his hands, vainly endeavoring to
control hopeless, convulsive sobs that shook him. Ralph looked at him
with mixed feelings; first he was elated that he had done his duty
well; but also his heart was touched by the utter dejection and
hopeless misery of the dripping figure beside him.

In a few moments the dinghy was alongside the _Puritan’s_ gangway.
Awaiting was Lieutenant-Commander Graham.

“Have you got him?” he called out. “Yes, I see you have, and you have
the catamaran. Well done. Oh, I see, it’s Collins, is it? I’m not
surprised. Master-at-arms, see that Collins gets well rubbed down, put
him in dry clothing, and then tie him up in double irons; we’ll attend
to his case to-morrow. Mr. Anderson, you did very well. Mr. Jenson, you
were up to your job, too. And who was the midshipman on anchor watch
who reported Collins when he jumped ship?”

“Third Classman Osborn, sir. He also went in the dinghy and hooked
Collins in the water. Collins jumped overboard from the catamaran.”

“You are beginning well, Mr. Osborn. Keep it up, young man.”

Ralph tingled with pleasure at this praise from his dreaded executive
officer, yet with it he felt great pity for Collins. “Poor fellow,” he
reflected, “I suppose he was made desperate by his wife being sick; I’m
awfully sorry for him.”

Ralph now turned in. The next day “mast” was held by Captain Waddell,
who had returned in the morning. A number of enlisted men were lined up
before the captain, charged with various offenses.

“Salute,” ordered the master-at-arms, as the captain and Mr. Graham
approached.

“You have quite a mast this morning, Graham,” remarked the captain.

“Yes, sir; the ordinary sailorman can’t stand a privilege without
abusing it.”

“I don’t agree to that at all,” replied the captain, rather sharply;
“three-fourths of our ship’s company are on the first class conduct
grade and many of them are special first class, have not been reported
for anything for six months and more; and we have a chief water tender,
Hester, who is serving his sixth enlistment and has a record any
officer might be proud of; he has never had a report against him in all
of this time and has a perfect record in efficiency.”

“Yes, sir; Hester is the best enlisted man I have ever known. He can
get anything from me that an executive officer can grant. The first
case this morning, sir, is Harper, ordinary seaman, twenty-four hours
over liberty.”

“What have you to say, Harper?” asked the captain.

Harper, a tousle-headed, mottle-faced, shambling young man stepped to
the front, hat in hand and said:

“Well, captain, it was this way; I’ll tell you all about it, sir. I was
comin’ back from liberty, on time, sir, and I stopped in the saloon for
a few drinks before my boat shoved off. They must have put some dope
in my liquor, sir, for I went to sleep, and----”

“Fourth class,” interrupted Captain Waddell. “Next.”

“Smith, P. B. Two hours late from liberty.”

“How did that happen, Smith? This is your first report.”

“I went to my home, sir, outside of Norfolk; my train was late, and I
couldn’t catch the boat. I took the next boat, and when I got here I
immediately hired a small boat and came off; I did the best I could,
sir.”

“Statement accepted. Next.”

“Collins, sir, jumped ship last night, stole the catamaran, and would
have got ashore but for some very alert midshipmen. He ought to get a
court, sir.”

“What have you to say, Collins?”

“I received word that my wife, who is in Newport News, was very sick,
sir. The executive officer wouldn’t let me go ashore.”

“It was his mother three weeks ago,” interrupted Mr. Graham; “you gave
him liberty, when he was classed, to go to see a sick mother. He broke
that liberty by a week. It will probably be his grandmother next time.
You ought to give him a court, sir.”

“Mr. Graham, let me settle this, please.”

The executive officer turned red, but made no further comments. The
captain then said: “Collins, nothing can justify you in stealing a
boat and leaving as you did. Your personal troubles cannot justify your
violation of regulations and destruction of discipline. Mr. Graham,
confine Collins for ten days in double irons.”

“How about my wife, sir; she may be dying?” asked Collins anxiously.

“Mr. Graham, send a master-at-arms ashore immediately to make full
inquiries about the condition of Collins’ wife and her needs. Collins,
if I learn you have a wife ashore who is critically ill, I’ll send you
to her.”

Mr. Graham’s lip curled. “If,” he murmured contemptuously, “if that
Collins has a wife anywhere I’d be surprised.”

The captain had turned away and did not hear his executive’s remarks,
but Collins did.

“Mr. Graham,” said the latter, firmly but respectfully, “I wish to
inform you, sir, that I’m a self-respecting American; I tell the truth,
sir; I always tell the truth.”

“Of course,” sneered Mr. Graham. “Master-at-arms, take Collins down
below forward, put handcuffs on his wrists and leg irons on his ankles,
and keep him there for ten days. Put a watch over him.”

“Yes, sir; come along, Harry.”

Three hours later Captain Waddell directed that Collins be brought
before him.

“Collins,” he said, “I am glad to tell you your wife is in no danger
at present, though she is very sick. She needs a little cash and I will
let you draw fifteen dollars for her on a special money requisition; if
she gets worse I’ll give you leave from Gardiner’s Bay; we leave for
there to-night.”

“Thank you, captain.”

The _Puritan_ left that evening for the North, traveling at a slow
speed. She was a huge monitor displacing nearly seven thousand tons.
The second day out she ran into quite a gale, making conditions aboard
most uncomfortable for everybody. Hundreds of tons of water boiled
over her low deck and smashed against the forward turret, from there
sending great columns of foam and spray over the turret, sometimes even
deluging the bridge above. It was a fearful, awe-inspiring sight to the
midshipmen. The ship rolled from side to side, not easily, but with a
quick, uncomfortable jerk, throwing people off their feet and sending
unsecured articles spinning about the deck. “It’s glorious, isn’t it?”
exclaimed Ralph, holding on to a rail on top of the superstructure
deck, exulting in the fact he was not seasick. At the same instant an
extra quick, heavy jerk caused him to lose his hold, and he was slammed
hard down on the deck. Even the miserably seasick Bollup laughed
heartily as Ralph ruefully staggered to his feet, clutching an awning
stanchion for support.

The machinery was behaving badly and the coal was running short; she
carried only three hundred tons, and the officers were concerned and
worried; but in a couple of days the _Puritan_ reached Gardiner’s Bay
at the eastern end of Long Island without mishap, and was anchored
alongside a collier. As the midshipmen could do nothing while the ship
was being coaled, they were all sent ashore on a picnic and had a
glorious time rambling over Gardiner’s Island.

While Ralph, Bollup, Creelton and Himski were wandering through a piece
of woods they almost walked on top of a small deer. This was up and
off like a shot from a gun. It was but a small incident, but was of
enthusiastic interest to the young men. It was the first wild deer any
of them had ever seen.

They returned aboard tired and contented; the ship had been coaled and
washed down, and everything was now clean about her. When Ralph got
aboard he was greeted with an order that did not please him. “Osborn,
you have a forecastle watch from three to four o’clock to-morrow
morning,” he was told.

“Pshaw,” said Ralph. “I hoped to have a good night’s sleep to-night,
but I guess I can stand it.”

He relieved Streeter at three in the morning.

“Hello, Os,” said Streeter; “by Jove, I’m glad to see you. Good-bye.
I’m going to turn in now.”

“Hold on,” said Ralph; “what have you to turn over?”

“Nothing. Everything is quiet. Both booms are alongside, the steam
launch is moored astern, the catamaran is alongside the port bow; her
painter is made fast to a cleat on deck. Bill Jones is on watch.”

Streeter left and Ralph commenced his lonely vigil. He took a look
at the anchor chain and at the catamaran, and then paced up and down
the starboard side of the forecastle deck. It was a beautiful, calm,
starlight night. The moon was not visible. Ralph was sleepy and would
have preferred his hammock, but after a while he rather enjoyed the
feeling that all but a very few were asleep; at half-past three the
quartermaster came forward and struck the bell seven times. “Half an
hour more,” said Ralph; “I wouldn’t mind it if it were an hour more.”
On one of his tramps forward and back, he suddenly stopped, abreast of
the turret. From out of the forward hatch, in the deep gloom, he saw
the figure of a man appear and then lie on the deck. It lay still for
a moment and then quickly crept over toward the port side forward, and
instantly was over the side. “Somebody is after the catamaran. Stop!”
Ralph shouted. He rushed over to where the catamaran was secured. Here
the ship’s deck was only two feet above the water,--a monitor’s deck is
very low. In the catamaran Ralph saw a man unloosing the painter from
the cleat on the deck, a foot from the side where it had been secured.
Ralph was now bending over the chain railing. The painter of the
catamaran was now untied and the man was in the act of shoving off from
the _Puritan’s_ side. Ralph leaned far over to get a grip on the man.
He was full of excitement, too full for the moment to call for help.
But he was determined to prevent the man from escaping. He leaned over
the chain railing for a grip and instantly felt himself in the grasp
of a man whose physical strength must have been prodigious. Both arms
were seized; he was whirled up and over the chain and came down with a
sickening crash, head first into the catamaran. He lay there stunned
and helpless. The catamaran was now twenty feet from the _Puritan_ and
was being rapidly carried away by the tide. The man in the catamaran
looked anxiously at the ship and at Ralph huddled in the bottom of
the boat. “I can’t put him aboard. I’ll have to take him with me, but
I don’t intend he shall give me away,” he reflected. He then rapidly
whipped off his neckerchief from around his neck and fastened it over
Ralph’s face, gagging him. He then took the catamaran painter and bound
Ralph’s arms to his side and wound the end tightly around his legs.
Ralph was securely tied and gagged. The catamaran had by this time
drifted far from the _Puritan_; and the man in her looked back from
time to time at the lights of the ship, but everything was perfectly
still aboard, and he knew that Ralph’s cry had not been heard and that
the boat had not been noticed as it had drifted by. He then picked up
an oar and sculled vigorously toward the shore.




CHAPTER XIV RALPH IS KIDNAPPED


After his terrific head-on fall into the catamaran, Ralph lay
momentarily stunned. He recovered consciousness as the gag was being
passed over his mouth, but was utterly weak and bewildered, not
comprehending at first what had happened to him. The next instant
he felt his arms tightly bound to his side, and then his legs were
firmly bound together. He lay helpless, but started to gather his
wits together, and soon realized what had happened. The man in the
catamaran was now sculling rapidly. Ralph opened his eyes, and in the
dim dawn now breaking he recognized the man to be the oiler, Collins.
The latter now stopped sculling, pulled his oar in the boat, and came
toward Ralph. He bent down toward Ralph’s head, giving the midshipman
a feeling of helpless terror. “What is this villain going to do to me
now?” thought the young man to himself. But to Ralph’s surprise and
comfort the “villain” now bathed his injured head with cold water; he
then pulled off his heavy overshirt and making a pillow of it, put it
under Ralph’s head. The midshipman’s terror now completely left him and
was replaced by a great curiosity; this man was not like the villains
he had read about.

“I hope you’re not hurt bad,” Collins said; “you came down awfully
hard, head first.”

Ralph struggled to make a reply, but was effectually prevented by the
neckerchief tightly bound over his mouth.

Collins now removed the neckerchief, saying roughly, “We’re a long ways
off from the ship, but if you do any yelling I’ll brain you with this
oar.” Then recognizing his prisoner, he said, “Oh, so it’s you, is it?
The efficient midshipman who made a reputation by preventing a poor
enlisted man from going to see his sick wife! That was a nice trick; I
hope you’re proud of yourself, Osborn.”

Ralph sat up. “You’ll call me Mr. Osborn, when you speak to me,
Collins.”

“Will I, my pretty boy? I’ll call you Mr. Osborn when you call me Mr.
Collins,” he added sneeringly. “I’m glad it is you; I’m only sorry you
didn’t get a worse bump. But I can make it worse at any time with this
good oar.”

“I don’t believe you’ll hit me with the oar, Collins,” said Ralph
quietly.

“Don’t you? Well you’d better not kick up any fuss then.” Collins spoke
savagely. He now commenced to scull again, and by daylight had rounded
a point of land and was now entirely hidden from the ship.

Ralph said nothing, wondering what the outcome of this adventure would
be. In Collins’ face he saw mingled emotions of worry and anguish. But
in it he saw no expression that frightened him, helpless as he was.
The catamaran was now driven to a stretch of sand and hauled up on the
beach. Collins looked at Ralph and said abruptly, “Get up.”

“I will if you’ll untie this rope that’s around my arms and legs.”

“What am I going to do with you?” asked Collins moodily.

“For your own sake, the best thing you can do with me is to scull back
to the ship.”

“Do you think I’m a fool?” snarled Collins.

“It looks that way to me.”

“Yes, you’d like to have me take you back to the ship, wouldn’t you?
You’d get a lot of glory out of that, but what would I get, do you
think? I’d get some more double irons, for safe-keeping, the log would
say,” he added contemptuously, “and then I’d get a general court
martial and be sent to prison for several years. And for what? Just
because I did what any man in my place would do; if you had a wife,
sick, perhaps dying in a strange town, wouldn’t you try to see her no
matter if you did break some artificial regulations? Tell me as a man,
wouldn’t your duty to your sick wife come before anything else?”

“It certainly would,” replied Ralph softly.

“What did I do, and how was I treated?” cried Collins. “I went to the
executive officer and told him about it and asked for a couple of
hours, and got treated like a dog and called a liar. Then I did what
any decent man would do, I tried to go without permission and was
chased and treated like an escaping criminal; and you were one of the
chasers and fished me out of the water with a boat-hook. And then I was
put in irons; me, a decent, self-respecting American!”

Collins boiled over with rage when recounting his wrongs.

“I heard you at the mast, Collins; I felt awfully sorry for you when
the executive officer would not let you go.”

“It looked like you felt sorry for me when you pulled me out with a
boat-hook.”

“That was not personal; I didn’t know who it was and it wouldn’t have
made any difference who it was. I had to do my duty. It was the same
this morning when you ran across the deck and got into the catamaran.
But I have been and am real sorry for you, Collins. Now what are you
going to do?”

“That’s none of your business, Osborn; whatever I’m going to do you
can’t stop me. I’ve got you fixed, that’s certain. And I’m going
where one man can’t put another in double irons unless he’s committed
a crime. I’ve finished with the Navy where a man is treated like a
criminal for trying to see a sick wife. You’re going to be an officer
and you think it’s all right to put an enlisted man in irons and treat
him as if he were a thief. You think an officer is a different being
from an enlisted man. You’ve never had irons on your hands and legs;
you don’t know the awful despair that comes over one, the terrible,
hopeless feeling. You have no regard for an enlisted man’s honor; you
laugh at the idea of his having any. Just let me tell you that I am as
proud of the life I’ve lived as any officer is of his life. I’ve always
worked hard and supported my mother and my wife. I’ve never lied, nor
stolen. And I’ve never touched a drop of liquor in my life. You think
enlisted men are a lot of brutes and haven’t feelings. I tell you that
man Hester is as good a man and as fine a gentleman as any officer in
the Navy, even if he does wear a blue shirt.”

“I knew it, I felt certain of it,” cried Ralph.

“Knew what?” asked Collins mystified.

“I knew that you were a good man. But, Collins, I’m afraid you are a
very foolish one and are steering yourself into a lot of trouble.”

“What do you mean, Mr. Osborn?”

“Now what have you done? You’ve broken arrest, which is, I imagine, a
serious breach of naval discipline. But to make matters worse you’ve
deserted, and stolen a boat. Then, to cap the climax, you assaulted a
midshipman on special duty and kidnapped him. If you really were the
villain these things would make you out to be you might complete the
job and murder me and try to hide the traces of your crime. But you
see all this fails because you’re not really a villain; but you’ve got
yourself tangled up in an awful mess, and now you don’t know what to
do. And you’ve got me on your hands also.”

“Mr. Osborn, if you’ll promise to wait until noon and give me a chance
to get away I’ll come up that rope that’s about you. I’ve no desire to
harm you.”

“Of course you haven’t, Collins; but I’m not going to make you any
promise; what you would try to do is to get to the mainland and then
beat your way to Newport News; and what do you suppose would happen
then? Before you ever saw your wife you would be arrested; you would be
tried by general court martial for desertion, assaulting and kidnapping
a midshipman on duty and so forth; by all of these things you have made
yourself out to be a desperate criminal. You would be convicted and
sent to prison for ten, perhaps fifteen years. And what would become of
the poor wife, Collins? Are you proving yourself a good husband to her
by doing such things as these? Just think of it all, Collins!”

“My God, Mr. Osborn, what can I do? I’ve gone too far now.”

“The first thing you can do, Collins, is to unbind the rope around me.”

Without a second’s delay, with a pale, anxious face, Collins unbound
Ralph’s arms and legs. Ralph stood up and stretched himself. His heart
was full of sympathy for the distracted man before him.

“What next, Mr. Osborn?” he humbly asked.

“What next?” repeated Ralph, in a burst of good feeling. “Why, the
next thing that’s going to happen is that Oiler Collins and Midshipman
Osborn are going to shake hands and be good friends and are going to
help one another whenever they can.”

“What, Mr. Osborn, would you shake hands with a man who has treated you
so badly as I have?”

“Indeed I will, Collins. There. Now I hope to convince you before long
that officers are not as hard and unfeeling as you think. Your impulses
run away with you, Collins, and I hope and believe the captain will
think those impulses are not unpardonable.” And Ralph seated himself in
the boat.

“How’s your head, Mr. Osborn?”

“Bumpy, but I’m feeling quite contented all the same. Oh, thank you,
Collins; that’s good of you.”

Collins was now bathing Ralph’s head with the cool water, and tied his
neckerchief about the bruised part.

“What shall I do now, Mr. Osborn?” asked Collins. “I’ll do whatever you
tell me to do.”

Ralph looked up into his face and said, “Collins, you will do what
you think you ought to do; I’m not going to give you any order or
suggestion, except to tell you I’m getting hungry.”

Collins pushed the boat into the water with alacrity, and commenced to
scull it around the point of land. The tide had changed and was now
with the catamaran; and at half-past seven the boat was alongside the
_Puritan_.




CHAPTER XV RALPH BREAKFASTS WITH HIS CAPTAIN


“You did good work in bringing him back, Mr. Osborn,” was the greeting
Ralph received from Captain Waddell, as he stepped aboard the _Puritan_.

“He brought me back, captain; I hope he’ll receive credit for that.”

“Make your report, sir,” ordered the captain crisply.

“I had the forecastle anchor watch from three to four o’clock this
morning, sir. Some time after seven bells were struck I noticed a man
creeping on the deck from the forward hatch; I rushed over to stop him
and he jumped into the catamaran. I bent over the railing and tried to
grab him but went head first over the rail into the catamaran. I didn’t
know anything for a few minutes, and after I came to Collins bathed my
head and then sculled away to the shore. We talked it over for a while
and then Collins decided to come back. He felt terribly worried first
about his sick wife and then about what he’d just done. Oh, captain,
he’s a good man; he’s full of good feelings and good intentions. He was
carried away by his troubles. He did the best he could to undo his
wrong act; I hope, I hope, sir, it won’t go too hard for him.”

Ralph’s eyes were full of sympathy and appeal. Captain Waddell regarded
him keenly. “How did you come by that bruise on your head, Mr. Osborn?”

“That was where I landed when I went into the catamaran, sir.”

“Did Collins strike you?”

“No, sir.”

“Did you make any resistance or cry for help?”

“No, sir.”

“Why not?” asked the captain sharply.

“Why, sir, I was knocked senseless at first.”

“And then?”

“Why, sir,--I--I--I was not in a position to.”

“Did Collins assault you, or abuse you in any way?”

“Captain, I hope you won’t require me to answer that. He did not injure
me; he was beside himself, and after he got to thinking he came back of
his own accord.”

“You’ll have to tell everything, Mr. Osborn; this is a most serious
affair. But I’ll ask Collins a few questions first. Collins, what have
you to say?” he demanded sternly of the pale, anxious, enlisted man.

“Mr. Osborn has not told it all, sir. I got rid of my irons and got
into the catamaran. Mr. Osborn grabbed me, but I gave him a quick jerk
and he landed in the catamaran. While he was unconscious I gagged him
with my neckerchief and passed the boat’s painter around his arms and
legs so that he couldn’t give an alarm or make any resistance. Then I
sculled the boat ashore. I didn’t know what to do, sir; I was wild.
I have always tried before this to do what was right, and it seemed
to me I was suddenly becoming a bad, desperate character. I took the
gag off Mr. Osborn’s mouth and he talked to me and made me feel I was
my own worst enemy. My grief and anxiety about my wife and the awful
feeling of having irons on, as if I were a criminal, caused me to give
way to impulses; Mr. Osborn made me feel that there was some good in
me in spite of the way I had used him. Then he made me feel that the
officers were really friends, not enemies of the enlisted men. Well,
sir, I knew I had done an awful thing, but Mr. Osborn brought me to
believe that the best thing I could do was to come back to the ship,
that that would undo part of the wrong I had done. Oh, sir, I am not a
desperate character. I have always tried to be a good man, but of late
it has seemed to me I hadn’t a friend--and then my mother’s death and
my wife’s illness--I’m only an enlisted man, sir, but I have the same
feelings----” and here Collins broke down completely and was shaken
with convulsive sobs.

“Mr. Osborn, I again congratulate you. You have done far more than if
you had overpowered Collins and brought him bound aboard ship. You
have not only prevented him from completing a most serious offense but
I believe you have saved a good man,” here Captain Waddell glanced
kindly at the contrite Collins, “not only to the Navy, but to himself
and to his family, which is far more important. By the way, Mr. Osborn,
years ago I had a friend of your name, Ralph Osborn, in Toledo. Are you
related to him?”

“He was my father, sir. He gave me a letter of introduction to you.”

“You should have presented it, but we’ll talk about that later. Now,
Graham,” to the executive officer, “what is your recommendation about
Collins?”

“Captain, when he came to the mast at Newport News he was in the
fourth conduct class and asked for special liberty. At the time I was
aggravated and didn’t believe him and treated him harshly. I have since
learned he had told the truth about his mother and wife. My unnecessary
harshness undoubtedly drove him to jumping ship at Newport News and
led to the occurrence this morning. Sir, I would recommend extreme
clemency. He has certainly proved there is some good in him. He could
be severely punished and made permanently bad. But I believe he has
good impulses and I would be glad to show him that naval officers are
the enemies only of those enlisted men who are bad characters.”

“May I say a word, sir, about Collins?” asked an enlisted man, stepping
before the captain and Mr. Graham. It was Chief Water Tender Hester; he
had stood near during the conversation above recorded and had heard it
all.

Captain Waddell looked earnestly and fixedly at Hester. Then a strange
expression came into his eyes.

“What is your name?” he asked.

“Hester, sir, chief water tender.”

“Go to my office, Hester; I’ll see you alone about Collins.”

The captain walked aft to his office. “This is a queer proceeding,”
muttered Mr. Graham, looking the surprise he felt. Then he turned
kindly to Collins, and said: “What is the last news you have had of
your wife?”

“She is very sick, sir; the crisis is to occur in two or three days.”

“I hope she’ll come out all right, Collins; I am sorry I was so hard on
you at Newport News.”

“Thank you, sir, and for your kind words a few minutes ago. I know I
was very wrong but I hope I’ll have the chance to redeem myself.”

“I hope so.” Mr. Graham looked around, wondering that the captain
should have thought it necessary to have talked in private with Hester.
Presently the captain and Hester came forward, and the former said to
Collins: “Collins, you yielded to wild impulses but you were under
a great grief and strain, and you did what you could to undo your
wrong act. I don’t excuse you for that, but I shall suspend action;
and further, in view of all of the circumstances and the executive’s
recommendation, I shall remit the remaining days of your confinement
and restore you to duty. Mr. Graham, you’ll see that’s carried out.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Now, Collins, the officers of a ship have the happiness and comfort
of the enlisted men under them at heart. And we want and must have
their hearty good-will and coöperation in their work aboard. I have the
greatest sympathy for you in the trouble you have had and I believe you
will prove yourself a valuable man.”

Collins looked up with startled eyes. He could hardly believe he was
hearing aright.

“And, Collins,” continued the captain, “I’m going to give you a week’s
leave to go see your wife, and if necessary, at the end of the week you
may apply for an extension.”

Collins was stunned with sudden happiness.

“A week’s leave!” he gasped. “Oh, captain, I don’t deserve it.”

“When you get back you’ll have a chance to prove you will hereafter.
That’s all, Collins; I hope you’ll find your wife better.”

“Oh, thank you, captain; if I don’t act right after this I’ll prove
myself a miserable ingrate.”

Collins was torn with conflicting emotions of gratitude and happiness.
He could hardly believe in his good fortune. He went forward and
shifted into clean clothes and soon left the ship.

It is likely that Ralph was even happier over the outcome than was
Collins. His warm sympathies were all aroused; he was delighted beyond
measure in the good that had come to Collins, and more than that he
had been actively instrumental in doing a great service to a fellow
man. All sorts of happy feelings crowded themselves into Ralph’s heart;
and he was pleased to learn that these austere officers, ordinarily
so sharp and so severe, were really filled with the milk of human
kindness. In addition to this came gratified personal pride; he,
a third classman, had been praised on the quarter-deck of a great
war-vessel by its captain!

“Mr. Osborn, you have done your duty very well,” remarked Captain
Waddell to him in the midst of these thoughts. “You saved a sailorman
from the crime of desertion and subsequent imprisonment, and I’ve no
doubt Collins will prove himself worthy. But you’ve done something else
which as a midshipman you may feel is a great misfortune; you’ve lost
your breakfast; the midshipmen’s tables are cleared up----”

“Oh, I can stand that, sir,” interrupted Ralph.

“You won’t have to; now go to your quarters and wash up and have the
surgeon examine that bump on your head and then come up and have
breakfast with me. Hurry along, now; I’m getting hungry and I’ll give
you twenty minutes.”

Ralph was ready in fifteen; the bruise on his head was not serious and
he felt much refreshed by the bath he took. But he was worried and
ill at ease as he approached the captain’s cabin, and his appetite
momentarily abandoned him. He was in great awe of Captain Waddell and
the idea of breakfasting with him made Ralph uncomfortable in mind.
But this did not last, for as soon as he entered the cabin the captain
immediately put him at ease.

“You ought to be hungry, Mr. Osborn; a midshipman can always be
depended upon at all hours to be hungry, but you’ve been up since
three this morning and have had an exciting time. So I’ll expect you
to enjoy your breakfast. Now try that melon; it looks like a good one.
And there’ll be coffee and bacon and toast and eggs after the melon--a
regular navy breakfast. Now tell me about your father, my old friend; I
haven’t heard of him for years.”

“Father is dead, sir,” replied Ralph soberly; “he was killed in a
street-car accident just a little more than a year ago.”

“Indeed! I hadn’t heard of it. I’m awfully sorry. What a pity!”

Captain Waddell asked many questions and went into Ralph’s life at
the Academy. He was much interested in the watch episode and in the
anonymous letter the superintendent had received. “It’s evident that
there’s some one there determined to injure you. This means, Mr.
Osborn, that you must be doubly particular in everything that you do.
If you are the young man I take you to be you will have no occasion
to worry over this unknown foe. And being forewarned gives you an
additional chance to protect yourself. As the superintendent and
commandant know of this state of affairs, your unknown foe, should he
continue in his efforts against you, will really have a hard time to
injure you. It shouldn’t be possible for him to do so provided you live
a good life and are mindful of the regulations. And one thing more,
Mr. Osborn; should a serious trouble come to you where you will need a
friend, I want you to write me frankly; it would be a great pleasure to
me if at any time I could be of service to the son of my old friend.”

Many months later, when charged with a most serious offense which
he could not deny because he was guilty and for which he was
court-martialed and dismissed from the naval service, Ralph Osborn
remembered these words of Captain Waddell.




CHAPTER XVI A BOILER EXPLOSION


“Hello, Collins; glad to see you back,” greeted Lieutenant-Commander
Graham, as Collins came aboard the _Puritan_ a week later. “How is your
wife?”

“She’s all right, sir; she’s recovering. The doctors say all danger is
passed and there’s nothing now to fear.”

“Good! I’m glad to hear it,” returned Mr. Graham heartily.

Collins saw he was marked in the “liberty book” as having returned “on
time, C and S,” and then went forward, a very grateful man.

“You bet I was on time C and S,” he remarked to Hester, a few moments
later. “If I hadn’t been on time clean and sober I’d have deserved
thirty days double irons on bread and water in the brig. Now, Hester,
how am I to make it up to young Mr. Osborn for all he has done for me?
Just think what that fine young midshipman saved me from and of how
good the captain and executive officer were to me. How am I to prove I
appreciate it all, Hester?”

“Don’t worry about that, Collins. As far as the officers are concerned
you need only to do your work well and obey the regulations. Now I
think you can do something for Mr. Osborn. The midshipmen, you know,
have lessons every day about boilers and engines. They have practical
work to do in tracing up steam and water pipes, in pumping a boiler,
in firing, and cleaning fires, and they get marked on the way they do
these several things. Each midshipman is ambitious to stand as high as
he can and it is a great honor to stand first. Mr. Osborn doesn’t know
much, of course, but he is quick and ambitious, and quite handy with a
shovel for a beginner. Now, Collins, I think you could do a great deal
for him. You could show him the mechanism of pumps and valves and lots
of other things. He’s down in the fire room now bothering how to pump
up a boiler. Suppose you start right in. He’s interested in you and
will be glad to see you.”

“Indeed I’ll be happy to help him if I only can,” cried Collins
enthusiastically. “I’ll shift into dungarees and look him up right
away.”

“Humph,” said an old-time boatswain’s mate who stood near. “If I’m ever
in double irons and want a week’s leave I’ll jump the irons, knock down
and kidnap the officer on watch, steal a boat and skip; two hours later
I’ll come back, say I’m sorry; the captain will fall on my neck and
weep and then send me off on a pleasure trip.”

“You old growler!” said Hester smiling. “Let me see, didn’t I see you
try to force Collins into borrowing twenty-five dollars from you when
he went? And here you are pretending to grumble at his good fortune.”

“There’s too much mollycoddling these days,” insisted the kind-hearted
old faultfinder. “When I first went to sea in the old _Lackawanna_ in
eighteen hundred and----” but Hester, laughing at the old man, ran away
to the fire room where he found Collins and Ralph Osborn and several
other midshipmen. Ralph and Collins had greeted each other warmly. It
seemed curious to the midshipmen standing about but that a few days
before this fine-looking enlisted man had really committed the act of a
desperate criminal and had treated with great violence the midshipman
to whom he expressed such heartfelt gratitude.

“What is your lesson in engineering to-day, Mr. Osborn?” inquired
Collins.

“It’s the worst we’ve had yet; we are required to get into the double
bottom and draw a longitudinal intercostal staple-shaped angle iron.”

“Whew!” exclaimed Collins. “Those words are too big for me. I can
show you an angle iron that is staple shaped, but longitudinal and
intercostal! That’s too much for me. Can you help us out, Hester?”

“That’s easy; longitudinal simply means fore and aft. And intercostal
simply means between the thwartship frames. Come down here, I’ll show
you one; it won’t take you five minutes to sketch it.”

The angle iron didn’t prove to be nearly so formidable in appearance
as its formidable name had threatened it would be. Collins opened a
door leading down into the double bottom of the ship, under the fire
room floor, and the midshipmen crowded after him into it. Lights
were brought in with them, and crouching in cramped positions,
with note-books in hand, the midshipmen sketched that innocent,
unoffending piece officially and pompously designated as an intercostal
staple-shaped angle iron. After leaving the double bottom Collins said:
“What else have you in to-day’s lesson, Mr. Osborn?”

“Oh, we’ve got to sketch the inside mechanism of a direct acting
quadruplex pump. Gee whillikins, what a lot of fierce names there are
down here!”

“I can help you in that; I’ve got a quadruplex in my cleaning station.
Come into the engine room with me; here’s a direct acting quadruplex
pump; it’s really quite simple. I’ll get a wrench and come up the bolts
and take off the water bonnet; you’ll understand it perfectly in a
minute.” Then approaching an oldish-appearing man in officer’s uniform
who was in the engine room, he said: “Mr. Simpkins, I’d like permission
to take the bonnet off the water end of the auxiliary pump. The
midshipmen wish to understand how the pump works; it is their lesson
to-day and----”

“No, you can’t take off the bonnet of that pump,” whined the officer
addressed. “The midshipmen have been bothering me all day long about
that pump; I ain’t a-going to let it be done. If I did everything the
midshipmen wanted me to do these engines would be torn apart all day
long. I just ain’t a-going to do it.”

“That old whiner is the warrant machinist on duty,” whispered Bollup to
Ralph. “I’ve been to him a dozen times to-day and all I ever got out of
him is a whine. Say, Os, I’m going to look at a pipe I’ve been tracing
underneath the engine room floor plates; I’ll be up to look at the pump
later,” and Bollup opened up a trap-door and slid down into the engine
room bilge, which was about four feet below the engine room floor on
which they were standing.

“But, Mr. Simpkins,” Collins was saying, “these midshipmen are required
to learn how the pump works and if you prevent them from having a pump
taken apart you may be hauled up about it. I’ll promise to have the
bonnet back before supper.”

“All right,” whined Mr. Simpkins; “but you get it back or I’ll put you
on the report.”

“I’ll do it, sir. But, Mr. Simpkins, may I have a little alcohol? I’ve
got some painting to do and I’d like a little more alcohol in the
paint, and besides I’d like to use some on these bolt heads to cut the
rust, and----”

“No, you mayn’t. I know what you’d do with it; you’d drink it----”

“I never drink, sir, and you know I need it, sir. You told me to get
this job done to-night.”

“Well, I’ll get you some myself, but I’ll not trust you with it. I’ll
keep it in my possession; they’ll never steal alcohol from me; I’m too
smart for them.” And as was his wont, Mr. Simpkins, first refusing and
then invariably yielding, went whining to the engineers’ storeroom and
brought back with him a one gallon can of alcohol, and placed it on the
floor plates between his feet, snarling and talking volubly. In the
meantime Collins was rapidly unscrewing the nuts that held the bonnet
of the pump.

“They’ll never steal any alcohol from me,” cried Mr. Simpkins. “I
know all of their tricks; I was an enlisted man; I’d never trust an
enlisted man with alcohol, no sir. I know what they’d do with it----”
And as he was rambling on in tearful tones Ralph’s attention was struck
by seeing the trap-door just behind Mr. Simpkins slowly open, and
Bollup’s cheerful, grinning face next appeared. The latter listened a
moment to Simpkins’ sad talk, and then, deftly reaching out a hand,
quickly took the can of alcohol, and immediately disappearing with
it, quickly and quietly lowered the trap-door over him. At the same
instant Mr. Simpkins looked down between his feet and saw the can was
missing. He instantly gave a shout. “Where’s my alcohol?” he cried. He
was petrified with astonishment. Back of him was a bulkhead; there was
no one there, and no one could have passed him. Mr. Simpkins did not
observe the neat-fitting trap-door and was utterly confounded. Ralph
was so convulsed with laughter that he could not speak. Mr. Simpkins’
attention was drawn to this and he cried: “What are you laughing at,
you midshipman? I’ll tell the chief engineer about your laughing----”

While he was thus talking, Bollup, watching his chance, opened the
trap-door and peering out saw Mr. Simpkins’ back was toward him, his
feet wide apart. Bollup quickly replaced the alcohol can between
Mr. Simpkins’ feet. This was too much for Ralph. He gave a burst of
laughter and ran into the fire room.

Mr. Simpkins started to walk away, blustering at the top of his voice,
and in stepping off one of his feet collided with the can. He looked
down, grabbed the can, and ran out of the engine room with it. Just
what he thought he never expressed, but it was noticed that whenever
thereafter he served out any alcohol the can was always tightly hugged
between his two arms.

The joke was too good to keep. The midshipmen all knew about it that
night. Collins, who had seen it, told Hester. Hester told a warrant
machinist, Cockrell; Cockrell told Lieutenant Stroud, the chief
engineer, and the latter told the wardroom officers and the captain.
Everybody was much amused but no one attempted to learn who the
midshipman was who had so successfully mystified Mr. Simpkins.

The _Puritan_ remained several weeks in Long Island Sound, using
Gardiner’s Bay as headquarters. Trips were made to Newport and New
London; the midshipmen were kept busy with their lessons and duties,
and all made appreciable progress in ship knowledge. But in engineering
Ralph Osborn distanced all of his classmates. With the devoted Collins
always anxious to serve him, and besides being much interested, there
was every reason why Ralph should learn. Before the end of the summer
he knew how to get a boiler ready for steam and he opened the proper
valves and started the pumps with perfect confidence. He spent some
of his spare time in the engine and fire rooms with Collins, and that
Ralph was to stand first in his class in engineering was a foregone
conclusion.

Ralph also did well with his deck studies. Occasionally he had a
chance to steer the ship when under way; he could row and sail a boat
like a veteran and frequently took the chains and heaved the lead for
soundings.

In the middle of August the _Puritan_ made a run to Newport where the
midshipmen were taken ashore to the smokeless powder factory. Here
the methods of manufacture of the explosive were explained to the
young men. On the return trip Ralph was detailed to fire room duty,
and he had made such progress that Chief Water Tender Hester actually
permitted him to fire two furnaces. Ralph was delighted. He opened his
furnace doors and threw in many shovelfuls of coal, manfully facing
the blast of intense heat from the white hot fire that seemed to
shrivel the flesh of his face. It must be admitted that Hester took
an occasional look at Ralph’s two fires and did some of the firing
himself. After an hour of this work, while firing, Ralph crouched low
and looked into one of his furnaces.

“Why, what’s that?” said Ralph suddenly, noticing a little lump about
the size of his fist projecting downward from the top of the furnace.
As he looked he imagined he saw it grow larger. Then he called out:
“Hester, take a look at this furnace, will you? What’s that lump in
there? I’m sure it wasn’t there when I first came----”

Hester came over and took a look and then gave a terrible shout:
“Haul fires from boiler C! Here, Jenkins and Smith, haul fires,
quick! Turner, jump on top of the boilers and shut boiler C’s steam
stop-valve!”

Hester snapped out his orders at the top of his voice and then ran over
to an iron wheel which worked a drum around which was an iron chain,
and rapidly turned it. In the meantime the firemen present obeyed
Hester’s orders; they rushed to the boiler Ralph had been firing and
instantly, with tremendous rapidity, hauled all of the burning coal
from the furnaces to the fire room floor. The burning coal, at an
intense white heat, was hauled recklessly into the fire room.

“Boiler C is shut off,” shouted Turner from the top of the boiler.

“All right, we’ve got her; the safety-valve is open and the fires are
hauled,” cried Hester.

Ralph stood to one side wondering what it was all about, and then the
chief engineer, Mr. Stroud, rushed in. “What’s the matter, Hester?” he
cried. “What are you blowing off steam for?”

“Take a look at this furnace, chief,” replied Hester.

“By George, the furnace crown came down on you, didn’t it? We would
have had an explosion here in a few minutes if you hadn’t been so
prompt. Is the boiler disconnected?”

“Yes, sir; everything is all right now.”

“What fireman noticed it, Hester? I’ll recommend him for promotion.”

“The fireman that reported it happened to be this midshipman, sir; his
name is Osborn.”

“By Jove, Mr. Osborn, your report has saved us from a boiler
explosion. I’ll tell the captain. Those furnaces are twenty-five years
old and are badly laminated; a blister formed and acted as a non-heat
conductor, so the iron got red hot and the furnace caved in from the
boiler pressure. We’ll cut out the blister to-morrow and rivet on a
hard patch.”

This was very interesting to Ralph. His report was really an accident
and was made principally through curiosity. Mr. Stroud soon left and
Ralph went over to the safety-valve wheel that Hester had operated.
This was on the side of the fire room between the back ends of two of
the boilers. While looking at this he was startled by a terrific cry
of: “Furnace crown in boiler E coming down!” Then followed penetrating
shouts from Hester. “Haul fires, disconnect, open the safety-valve!”

Ralph turned to go into the open part of the fire room and then heard a
fearful yell of: “Run, everybody! Drop everything! Get out of the fire
room, everybody!”

Ralph started to run, but tripped and fell headlong, striking the floor
plates with great force. While he was struggling to get up he was
conscious that the fire room was suddenly filled with hot steam.

One of the furnace crowns of boiler E had come down so rapidly that
there was no time to save the boiler. Hester closed the great iron door
between the engine and fire room, and then cracked it open. No steam
came into the engine room.

“It’s not a bad break,” said Hester. “Hello, where is Mr. Osborn? He
was in there. Did any of you see Mr. Osborn come out?”

“I saw him go behind the boiler to the safety-valve wheel,” said Turner.

Collins, with white face, stood beside Hester. He immediately said to
a man beside him: “Quick, give me your shirt.” The man tore it off and
Collins plunged it in a bucket of water. “Now tie it around my head,”
he cried. “Now throw some water over me.” Instantly a bucket was thrown
over him. The whole incident took but a matter of a few seconds. Hester
looked at Collins keenly. “This is mine, Hester; I’m going after Mr.
Osborn. Open the door.”

“All right, Collins. Get down on your knees and crawl. He’s between
boiler E and F. You’ll get him.”

Collins, with his head protected, trousers tied around his ankles, and
hands wrapped with wet cloths, disappeared through the doorway into
that scalding hell of steam. Inch by inch he groped his way along but
still moved rapidly toward the place Ralph had last been seen, and in
a few seconds met the bewildered scalded midshipman who had by this
time got to his feet. Ralph was aware that an accident had happened
but was blinded and scalded. He hesitated helplessly, and then felt a
strong arm grab him; Collins now rose to his feet, and dragging Ralph
after him, ran forward to where there was a ladder leading to an open
door out of the fire room into the fire men’s wash room. Collins pushed
Ralph up the ladder and immediately followed him, and then both were
rushed to the sick quarters.

In the meantime Hester had had himself wrapped head and foot in wet
bags and cloths and went into the fire room, first to the safety-valve
of boiler E which he opened, and then to the top of the boiler where
he shut the valve, disconnecting that boiler from the other seven
boilers. Then in rushed the chief engineer, without any protection; he
was greeted by a blast of steam from the boiler which struck him on the
head and knocked him down. Fortunately he was near the door and was
hauled out by his feet.

Ralph had run to the sick quarters without assistance. His face, hands
and part of his body smarted painfully but he had no idea that he had
been badly injured. Intense suffering came in the next few days; his
cruise of course came to an abrupt end, and he was transferred to the
Newport Naval Hospital where he remained till the end of September,
losing all of his September leave.

Collins and Hester both received medals of honor with highly
commendatory letters from the Secretary of the Navy. Neither were more
than slightly burned.

Severe as was the accident, Ralph was fortunate in several respects.
First, the hole in the furnace crown through which the steam had
escaped was very small. Then Ralph was at some distance and was not
struck directly; and also the fire room was large and spacious. So
Ralph had much reason to be thankful he had escaped with his life. He
and the chief engineer were the only two who were seriously injured.[6]

FOOTNOTE:

[6] This accident happened as described in the _Puritan’s_ fire room.
An officer was scalded and rescued; two enlisted men went into the
fire room swathed in wet clothes, performed rescue work and secured as
related the injured boiler; they received medals of honor from the Navy
Department.




CHAPTER XVII THIRD CLASSMEN ELECT CLASS OFFICERS


Many times during the long weeks that Ralph Osborn spent in the
hospital did the young man’s heart well up with gratitude for Collins’
devoted bravery. “I never could have gotten out,” he said over and over
again. He wrote to Collins a letter full of feeling, though the words
looked cold and lifeless to him. It was as follows:

  “DEAR COLLINS:--

  “Thank you, more than my pen can express. I lie here and wonder, day
  after day, that any man could be so brave; and I shall be grateful to
  you all my life. I have read of heroes, but I can imagine no greater
  act of heroism than was yours. I am proud and grateful to call you my
  friend. I am happy I was saved and oh, so happy it was you who saved
  me. You will be glad to know I am almost well and will be ready to
  leave here in three weeks.”

Ralph heard from Collins as follows:

  “DEAR MR. OSBORN:--

  “I am so pleased to know you are recovering so nicely. I am indeed
  happy that I was able to do something for you. I have been rewarded
  far beyond my merits, have a medal of honor, and am rated chief water
  tender, and everybody has been so kind. I shall never forget you
  saved me from myself, that but for you I would be a criminal; I am so
  thankful I had the chance of showing my appreciation.

  “With sincere regards,

  “Respectfully yours,

  “HENRY COLLINS.”

A glow of warm feeling filled Ralph’s heart as he read this letter;
it was indeed pleasing to believe he had been helpful to Collins, had
influenced him to his own good; but that the direct result of his
influence upon Collins should have saved his own life was a remarkable
reward, for Ralph had no idea that he would ever have left that fire
room alive had it not been for Collins.

The days in the hospital were long; September days came and Ralph,
though mending rapidly, was still kept in bed; he grew very restive,
thinking of his classmates enjoying their month’s vacation, and as he
grew better daily he became impatient. Finally he was discharged from
the hospital and was sent to Annapolis, arriving there September 28th;
two days later the midshipmen were all back, and enthusiastic were the
greetings Ralph received from his classmates and other midshipmen he
knew, and it did seem so good to him to be once more with these friends.

Though Ralph was restored to health he was ordered to be excused from
drills, and directed to take part in no violent physical exercise. This
was a disappointment, as he intended to go into athletics, and the idea
of trying for the football squad was very attractive to him.

Ralph plunged into his studies with great zest; he determined to do
better in French and felt confident that hard work in mathematics would
keep him high up in the class in that branch. The first term took up
the study of conic sections, and Ralph reveled in these subjects,
and at the end of October his class standing in this all-important
department was number one. Himski was number two, Bollup number three
and Creelton number four.

“Confound it, Os,” remarked Bollup as they were standing around
the bulletin, “I worked hard last month in math and made as good
recitations as you did, but you knocked a 4 on the exam. Now what
chance has a fellow if you’re going to do that right along? Let up on
it, old chap, won’t you?” The kindly twinkle in Bollup’s eye didn’t
look as if he felt badly that Ralph had beaten him. “Say, Os,” he
continued, “we’re going to elect class officers next week; you’ve heard
the fellows talking about it, haven’t you?”

“Oh, yes; Creelton seems much interested, but I haven’t taken very much
interest in the subject. It doesn’t make a great deal of difference who
is elected; they’re sure to be good fellows.”

“Yes it does; the class president is frequently in consultation
with the commandant and he ought to be a man who can represent the
class feeling. Some good fellows get scared when they get into the
commandant’s office. Now we want a man who can talk to the commandant
without losing his nerve, and you’re just the man. Several of us have
talked this over and we’re going to run you for it.”

“That’s awfully kind, old chap, but I’m not at all the man you want,
and besides nothing whatever could induce me to accept if I were
elected.”

“Why not? what’s your reason?” asked Bollup in blank surprise.

“Until this thieving business is cleared up I don’t want any more
prominence than I can help.”

“Pshaw, there isn’t a soul that connects you with that--and people have
forgotten about it; now don’t let that bother you any.”

“Bollup, I have had repeated things happen that prove beyond a doubt
that some one here is determined to injure me. I can’t even imagine who
it can be--now that Short is not here. My reason may be a poor one, but
all the same I would not accept a class office. But I’m much obliged,
all the same, old fellow.”

“Who do you think would make a good class president?” continued Bollup.

“I’m going to vote for Himski. I’m sure he’d be a good one.”

“I believe he would,” agreed Bollup. “Now if you don’t want it, suppose
we electioneer for Himski. He’s a fine fellow; there isn’t a better
man in the class. We’ll have a surprise party for him next week. He
is working for you, thinks you’re sure to be elected president. Now
we won’t say a word to him and we’ll keep him in the dark. It’ll be a
regular joke.” And Bollup laughed heartily at the surprise he conjured
in his mind that was to happen to his own roommate.

“By the way, Os, have you heard that both the superintendent and
commandant are detached?”

“No; by George, I’m sorry!” And Ralph looked the dismay he felt. “They
were my protectors; I have felt safe with them here; are you sure they
are going to leave?”

“Yes, their orders have come and I suppose they will leave immediately.
The admiral goes to command the Pacific Squadron and the commandant is
ordered to command the cruiser _Albany_.”

“I am indeed sorry to hear that; I fear that something bad may happen
to me, and the new commandant won’t know about what has already
occurred.”

“Don’t worry, Os,” said Bollup affectionately, laying his arm on
Ralph’s shoulder; “we’ll look out for you, and if anything should
happen we’ll let the new commandant know what has gone on before.”

On a Saturday night, a week later, a meeting of the third class was
called in the reading-room for the purpose of electing class officers.
The third classmen went to the hall immediately after supper. Bollup
elected himself temporary spokesman, and said: “We’re here to elect
class officers. I move that Himski be made temporary chairman until the
ballots are cast.”

“Second the motion,” called out Ralph. The motion was unanimously
carried, and Himski, to his great surprise, took charge of the meeting.
“I see my good friend Bollup has caught you unawares,” he said. “I
imagine if Bollup had nominated the man in the moon you’d have elected
him.”

“Right you are, old man,” called out Streeter, provoking much laughter
from the youths present, all of whom were in the mood for fun.

“Nominating speeches for class president are in order,” said Himski.

“We don’t want any nominating speeches; let’s vote,” shouted Creelton.
“We know whom we want for president, so pass around the ballots.”

Himski looked pleased. He had been conducting a vigorous campaign for
Ralph and every one had seemingly assented. In fact a very complete
secret canvas had been going on for Himski, of which the latter was in
entire ignorance. So Himski, thinking that Ralph had been settled on by
all for class president, was delighted with what he believed to be the
success of his electioneering. The votes were cast and the ballots were
quickly collected and then counted by tellers, of whom Bollup was one.

“I’m ready to announce the result of the election,” called out Bollup
in a few minutes.

“Order, order,” shouted Himski. “Now, Mr. Bollup, we’ll go through the
form of hearing your report, though I guess we all know who’s been
elected.” And Himski smiled in a superior way, though he was perplexed
at the shout of laughter that greeted his words.

“Here it is,” cried Bollup. “For class president, Osborn,--one---- Say,
Os, did you vote for yourself?”

A look of amazement spread over Himski’s face.

“For Himskihumskonski,” continued Bollup, “ninety-one---- Look here,
Os, you’ve a chance to do the right thing and move the vote be made
unanimous.”

A shout of laughter went up.

Himski was stupefied with surprise. “I voted for Os,” he said in a
feeble, bewildered way; “I thought we were all going to; I had no idea
any one was going to vote for me.”

All laughed, well pleased with the completeness of the surprise. Himski
had the good-will and entire respect of all of his classmates, and
after he had been suggested for the class presidency it seemed natural
for everybody to vote for him.

“Fellows,” said Himski, his fine features quivering with mingled
emotions, “I can’t tell you how much I appreciate the compliment you
have paid me; and it is such a surprise. I thank you; but frankly I
don’t think I should permit you to do this----”

“Why not? Why not?” rang out from all parts of the room.

“To begin with, my name, though I am proud of it, is frightfully long
and----”

“Sir,” cried Bollup, “I move that the sentiment of the class is that
though each of the five syllables that go to make up our honored
president’s name is in itself noble, euphonious and beautiful, yet the
name is too long; I move that the class, by Himski’s consent, cuts off
the last three syllables.”

“You have already done that,” said Himski smiling.

“Now, classmates,” continued Bollup, “this should be made official. And
I also move that the last three syllables of his first name be dropped.
His name is ostensibly Jacob, but in reality it is Jacobowbenski----”
Here a roar of laughter burst from the midshipmen, and Bollup sat down.

“I am certainly Himski to everybody at the Academy,” said that young
man, “and there’s no need of ever calling me anything else. Now,
fellows, I’m going to ask you to reconsider your vote.”

“No, no, you’re the man, Himski. You’ll do,” was cried out by different
third classmen.

Streeter was elected vice-president and Warren secretary.

Creelton got up and clamored for recognition, and then said: “Fellows,
there’s always a row here about duty. When we’re section leaders
marching through the yard, we are supposed to report any talking in our
sections and any straggling, or other infractions. And when we are on
duty as assistants to midshipmen in charge of floors we are supposed to
report any violations we see, whether they are committed by classmates
or not. Now I think it would be a fine thing for our class to make
a stand, to resolve to do our duty as it is expected of us, to make
reports no matter who is the man reported, to----”

“Oh, choke him off; sit down; give us a rest----” and all manner of
cries good-humoredly assailed Creelton, who was entirely discomfited
and sat down without further remark.

Ralph jumped to his feet. “Mr. President,” he called out.

“Mr. Osborn has the floor,” announced Himski.

“Classmates, there isn’t any need of Creelton’s motion. A matter of how
duty should be done can hardly be settled by a class. It must come to
be done as a matter of education. A third classman does not do his duty
ordinarily as well as a first classman, because the latter is better
educated as to what duty in the Navy means. We’ll progress in this and
other things as we get higher up. This matter of being a crank on duty
and making a lot of reports generally ends in bad feeling. If I were to
make a motion on this subject I would move that the third class will do
the best it can and that it hopes constantly to do better. I’ve no fear
of our class; it will do just as well as its predecessors. But I have
the following motion to propose:

“Resolved, should any member of our class know of any midshipman
in the Academy lying or doing any dishonorable thing whatsoever,
such an offense will be immediately reported to the class or to the
authorities.”

“I second Osborn’s resolution,” rang Bollup’s clear voice. “The honor
system has always held at our Academy and our class should put itself
on record just as each preceding third class has done.” This resolution
was unanimously carried.

Warren then got up and said: “Fellows, I’m sorry to tell you that
between three and six o’clock this afternoon my diamond ring was stolen
from the drawer of my table where I had left it. I can’t imagine who
the thief could be, and I don’t know, and hate to believe a midshipman
could be a thief. I haven’t been able to discover any evidence
whatever, and----”

“Sir,” shouted Ralph passionately, “the thief, whoever he may be, has
got busy again. That ring will probably be found in my wardrobe, or
in my drawer. Repeated efforts have been made to injure me, to fasten
some dishonorable act on me. You all know that. And now that we have a
new superintendent and new commandant the thing is started up again.
Now I insist you appoint a committee to search my room. I must have
protection by my classmates.”

Himski utterly refused to entertain this motion, and then walked over
to Ralph and said: “Os, we’ll do this for you quietly, but not as a
class matter.”

A few more class affairs were discussed and the meeting then adjourned.
Himski, Bollup, Creelton and Ralph then went directly to the latter’s
room and a most complete search was made, but no ring was found. This
relieved Ralph somewhat, but he was still very uneasy in mind as he
felt that his hidden mysterious enemy had once more become active.




CHAPTER XVIII “PROFESSOR MOEHLER IS A LIAR AND A FOOL”


The chief event that concerned the Naval Academy at this time was its
defeat in football by West Point; if one were to judge the importance
of this defeat by the effect produced at Annapolis he would say it was
a national calamity. All at Annapolis, officers, midshipmen and even
citizens in the old town, were filled with consternation and dismay.
During the game, on the bleachers, Ralph saw his eleven heroes, despite
incredible effort, relentlessly pushed back, overwhelmed and crushed
by the unconquerable West Point team. From the beginning, defeat for
the midshipmen was seen to be inevitable, and for two hours many hearts
throbbed in painful anguish. The return from Philadelphia was a bitter
one for the midshipmen, for West Point had been victorious the previous
year; but grim determination was in the heart of every midshipman, and
“we’ll beat them next year” was the dogged resolve everywhere heard.

Ralph was now one of the marked men of his class. He maintained his
lead in mathematics and was improving in his French and English
studies. He took naturally to the study of the laws of chemistry,
and of sound, light and heat, and though he had never studied these
subjects before, he immediately took high rank in them, standing number
five in his class for the first term.

Ralph took formation, drills and studies easily; inspections no longer
worried him. Sometimes he was late at a formation and occasionally his
room was reported for “out of order at morning inspection” and like all
midshipmen he sometimes received demerits, but never enough in any one
month to put him off the first conduct grade.

Three officers took turns in doing duty as officer-in-charge,
spending twenty-four hours with the midshipmen. During his tour the
officer-in-charge was kept busy carrying out the routine, making
inspections, answering questions by midshipmen, and receiving reports.
One of these officers, Lieutenant Fellows, afforded the midshipmen
great fun by a peculiarity he had of frequently calling things by their
wrong names, and mixing up the syllables of a word. It was probably a
slight form of aphasia. One time during March, in evening study hours
while Ralph and Creelton were having an animated conversation in their
room, a sudden rap was heard on their door and in strode Lieutenant
Fellows, his sword and white gloves proclaiming he was making an
evening inspection.

Ralph and Creelton jumped to their feet, and stood at respectful
attention.

“Have this stopping talked,” he ordered. “Who’s doing this stopping?”

Ralph wanted to laugh, but managed to say, “I was conversing with my
roommate, sir.”

“You are reported for loud stopping during study hours, sir; what is
your name?”

“Osborn, sir.”

This was told with great glee to third classmen and thereafter Mr.
Fellows was dubbed “Loud Stopping,” though he probably never knew it.
Another time in telling some apparently deeply interested midshipmen
of a wonderful escape he had from drowning, he said, “And then I
sankly gent into the water----” and he was surprised and perplexed at
the spontaneous burst of laughter that greeted his remark. On another
occasion he used the expression, “a paint of coat,” meaning to say of
course “a coat of paint.” He was a kind-hearted man, pompous in manner
and ordinarily altogether too lenient with the midshipmen. Many times
after he had made some report against one, the delinquent would talk
earnestly to “Loud Stopping” about it, and the latter would erase
the report. Then at other times, Mr. Fellows would feel he had been
altogether too easy with the young gentlemen and he would become most
unexpectedly, tremendously severe. The midshipmen liked him but they
constantly laughed at him.

The third class year was passing uneventfully for Ralph. It was very
satisfactory to him because he was so successful in his studies. There
was now additional zest in his work because he was aiming to, and
stood good chance of standing first in his class. His most formidable
competitors were his most intimate friends, Himski, Bollup and
Creelton, so the rivalry was a very friendly one. Of all his classmates
Ralph liked the jovial, great-hearted Himski most. He always kept on
good terms with Creelton but was more drawn to the others.

As time went on Ralph thought less and less of his hidden enemy.
Several times during the months that passed some third classman
reported the theft of money, or of some valuable article. On each
occasion Ralph always insisted on having his room searched, “for my own
protection,” he explained to Bollup and Himski when they remonstrated
with him, but nothing was ever found. It is likely that consciousness
of a secret enemy made Ralph particularly careful about obeying the
regulations. He had the feeling he was watched and that any grave
misdemeanor would become known to the authorities.

One Saturday in April while walking alone through the grounds he passed
a tall, pimply-faced, round-shouldered man about twenty-seven years
old, dressed in civilian’s clothes. Ralph paid no particular attention
to him until the man suddenly stopped, and in a rasping, snarling
voice said: “Why don’t you salute me?”

“I didn’t know you were entitled to a salute sir,” Ralph said. “I never
saw you before and will be glad to salute you if you are entitled to a
salute,” and Ralph saluted as he spoke.

“I am entitled to a salute, and it’s your business to know me. I’m
Professor Moehler, instructor in mathematics. You midshipmen make a
point of never knowing civilian instructors; I’ve looked that point up;
you’re required to salute me and you’d better not pretend another time
not to know me.”

“I haven’t pretended, sir; I didn’t know you. I had no reason to think
you were an instructor.”

“I hear what you say but I have my own ideas on that subject. Salute me
again.”

Ralph’s face got red; he hesitated, and then slowly executed a proper
naval salute, watching the professor narrowly.

The latter turned to resume his walk, saying, “You’d better not pretend
another time, Mister Midshipman, unless you want to get reported for
disrespect. That would give you twenty-five demerits.”

“One moment, sir,” said Ralph, a determined look shooting out of his
eyes. “You are correct in saying the regulations require a midshipman
to salute an instructor; and the same regulation is just as mandatory
in requiring the instructor to return the salute. I have saluted
you twice and you returned neither salute. Further, I consider you
hazed me when you directed me to salute you the second time, and you
have insinuated I was not speaking the truth when I told you I was
not pretending, that I didn’t know you. I shall report you to the
commandant, sir; he is here to protect midshipmen as well as to direct
them and punish them.”

“Oh, I say, don’t do that; I didn’t mean anything,” cried Professor
Moehler with a troubled face; “here, I’ll salute three times----” and
he made three grotesque gyrations with his hand, which he helplessly
intended for military salutes. “Look here, mister, don’t report me;
I’ll lose my job if you do!”

Mr. Moehler ran after Ralph crestfallen and begging not to be reported,
but Ralph was very angry and refused to listen to him. He went direct
to his room and made a written report of the incident which resulted
in a severe reprimand and warning for the instructor. Mr. Moehler had
been at the Academy but a few days when this happened. He had been told
that midshipmen looked down upon civilian instructors and objected to
saluting them, which was entirely a mistake, and he had announced that
he would force them to salute him.

This incident created much talk in the little midshipmen world. After
this Mr. Moehler received the most elaborate salutes from midshipmen.
He even noticed that the superintendent and commandant apparently
didn’t receive as deferential salutes from midshipmen as he did. This
bothered him somewhat, but he concluded that naval customs were queer
and kept his opinion to himself.

When the sections in mathematics were posted for May, Ralph led his
class; this pleased him but he had expected it. While looking at the
room number where his section was assigned to recite, he suddenly
slapped his hands together and exclaimed: “By George, that’s too bad;
I’ve got Moehler as my instructor next month.”

“I wish I had,” replied Creelton ruefully. “I’ve tumbled down to the
second section. This is the first time I’ve been out of the first
section in math since the plebe semi-an exam.”

“I’m sorry for that, old fellow,” said Ralph. “You haven’t boned much
this last month; you’ll get back without any trouble if you try.”

In May Ralph’s class in mathematics had integral calculus. As he
believed Mr. Moehler would look at him with no friendly eye he was
doubly careful in the preparation of his lessons. As number one man
in his class it was to be expected his mark would be excellent, but
Moehler gave him high marks grudgingly. For the fourth recitation Ralph
had to Mr. Moehler, he was directed to deduce a formula which was in
the day’s lesson. Ralph, always delighting in original work, arrived
at the formula by a different method than that laid down in the book.
Mr. Moehler, busy listening to demonstrations of other midshipmen in
the section, did not get to Ralph till near the end of the hour. Then
he glanced at the blackboard where Ralph stood, and said, “That’s all
wrong, Mr. Osborn.”

“This is right, sir,” replied Ralph. “It will only take me a minute to
explain it, if you’ll listen----”

“It’s all wrong; I can see that at a glance--you’ve cooked up the
result somehow, but it’s wrong. Rub it out.”

“Sir, this work is right; it isn’t the method used in the book, but I
can prove to you it’s right. Now----”

“Rub it out, I tell you,” thundered Mr. Moehler.

“Will you let me explain it, sir?”

“No, rub it out.”

“May I send for the head of the department to explain it to him?”

“No, you may not; I’m running this. Rub that out. You’ve earned a zero
for this morning’s work.”

Moehler was pale with anger and his voice trembled. Ralph hesitated a
moment, then slowly rubbed his work out, and without another word left
the blackboard and took his seat. The section was soon marched out of
the recitation room, and when Ralph reached his own room he hurriedly
wrote the following letter, addressing it to the commandant:

  “SIR:--

  “I have the honor to request your consideration on the following
  statement.

  “This morning, in my recitation before Instructor Moehler, I was
  required to deduce a formula which I did by a method not given in
  the book, but which is correct. Mr. Moehler said this was wrong and
  refused to listen to my explanation, and informed me he had marked me
  zero.

  “The demonstration is appended exactly as it appeared on the
  blackboard. I respectfully request it be sent to the head of the
  department of mathematics, and that if zero is not the proper worth
  of this demonstration, my mark of this morning be changed.”

Professor Scott was full of delight at Ralph’s original demonstration
and of anger toward Mr. Moehler. “You will mark this paper, sir,” he
said to the latter, his own voice trembling with indignation, “and
you will change Mr. Osborn’s mark to correspond. And let me tell you,
sir, if any further reports of this kind come I shall recommend your
discharge. This is as fine a piece of original work as I’ve ever seen.
It deserves a 4 and you marked it 0. Mr. Osborn is number one in his
class; if you have occasion to mark him less than 4.0 in his future
recitations you will inform me immediately.”

Mr. Moehler was chagrined to the last degree and correspondingly
apologetic, but Professor Scott’s anger was not to be soothed. He
required the instructor to inform Ralph that his mark was changed to
4.0.

Four days later at the end of an hour’s recitation, Ralph, with the
rest of his section, at Mr. Moehler’s order, marched from the room. As
is customary Mr. Moehler followed them out, saw them form and march
away. He then went back in the section room.

“Shall I rub out, suh?” inquired the colored man.

“Wait a minute; I’ll just see if I’ve everything marked. What’s that?”
he suddenly exclaimed in great amazement, and an expression of hot
anger crossed his face. “Don’t rub out a thing, do you understand?
Leave everything just as it is.”

“Yes, suh.”

Mr. Moehler then went to the corridor and calling for an attendant,
sent him to Professor Scott with a request for the latter to come to
the recitation room immediately.

“What’s the matter, Mr. Moehler?” demanded Professor Scott, a moment
later; “you look excited.”

“Sir, I dismissed the first section but a couple of moments ago and
went into the corridor with them according to your order. I’d like to
call your attention to what I found on Mr. Osborn’s blackboard.”

Professor Scott quickly glanced at the blackboard indicated, and
overwhelming astonishment was depicted on his face. “Incredible!” he
exclaimed.

At the upper left-hand corner of the blackboard was the name “Osborn.”
Below it was the demonstration of a problem and below this, in bold
handwriting, was written the sentence:

“Professor Moehler is a liar and a fool.”




CHAPTER XIX “OSBORN NEVER WROTE IT, SIR”


“What incredible folly!” repeated Professor Scott. “It is hard to
credit Mr. Osborn or any midshipman with such unspeakable foolishness.
I suppose Mr. Osborn meant it for some midshipman to see and then
forgot to rub it out. Too bad! I have made a great mistake in that
young man. Well, Mr. Moehler, you remain here in the room. I’ll
telephone for the commandant to come immediately. Keep everything just
as it is.”

“I will, sir; I’m sorry any midshipman should express such sentiments
toward me. I have had trouble with Mr. Osborn on two occasions in each
of which I was at fault and was severely reprimanded in consequence,
but there was no occasion for Mr. Osborn to write such a thing about
me.” Mr. Moehler spoke feelingly.

“Too bad,” again murmured Professor Scott, leaving the room. In a few
moments he returned with the commandant.

“I suppose it’s something important, professor,” Commander Thornton
said as they entered.

“You will form your own conclusion as to that, sir; this is the
condition of the room when Mr. Moehler called me in. Will you look at
the blackboards, sir?”

In a moment the commandant was startled by the scurrilous sentence on
Ralph’s board.

“Who is Mr. Osborn?” he inquired.

“A third classman, sir; he stands number one in mathematics in his
class.”

“Did he write that?”

“It looks like his handwriting and it’s on his board. Mr. Moehler can
tell you the circumstances better than I can.”

“Tell me about it, Mr. Moehler.”

“Sir, at the end of the recitation hour Mr. Osborn and several of his
section had not yet recited and were still standing at their boards
when the dismissal alarm rang. I ordered the section to march out when
the bell rang, and I followed the last man out and stood in the doorway
of my room while they got their caps, formed and marched away. As I
entered, the colored man, Carroll, came in with me, and asked me if he
should rub out. I told him to wait a moment; the next instant I saw
what was written on Mr. Osborn’s board, and then I sent for Professor
Scott. I think that is all I know about the matter, sir.”

“That’s enough,” rejoined the commandant, sententiously; “enough to
dismiss Mr. Osborn,” he grimly added. “Let me see; you have had some
trouble with Mr. Osborn, haven’t you?”

“Yes, sir, twice and I was in the wrong each time. But I can’t feel
that Mr. Osborn had occasion to write such a thing on the board.” Mr.
Moehler showed his indignation and wounded feelings as he spoke.

“Nothing, absolutely nothing could justify Mr. Osborn. He will
be dismissed immediately. But we will investigate all of the
circumstances. Professor, please telephone to the officer-in-charge and
direct him to get the first section in mathematics together and send
them here immediately. We will wait here until they come.”

Ten minutes later the first section of ten wondering midshipmen marched
into Mr. Moehler’s room.

“First section all present, sir,” reported Ralph.

“Mr. Osborn,” commenced the commandant severely, “were you the last
midshipman to leave this section room half an hour ago?”

“Yes, sir,” replied Ralph, quietly wondering why the commandant should
be in the room.

“Could any midshipman have gone to your board without your knowledge?”

“No, sir, none did. The section was all ahead of me as it left the
room.”

“Then everything on your board when the section was leaving was your
own work.”

“Yes, sir, everything.”

“Be very careful in your answer, Mr. Osborn. Is it possible that any
midshipman of your section could, without your knowledge, have written
anything on it?”

“It was impossible for any to have done so.”

“Very well, sir. I shall recommend your immediate dismissal from the
Naval Academy!”

“My immediate dismissal!” echoed Ralph, in extreme consternation. “Why,
sir, what for?”

“Because you wrote an infamous line on your blackboard concerning Mr.
Moehler.”

“I did nothing of the kind, sir.”

“Don’t lie, Mr. Osborn. You forgot to rub out the infamous words you
wrote. Look at your blackboard, sir.”

Ralph turned around; he stared at the damning words in utter
astonishment. “Who wrote that?” he burst out.

“You did,” said his accuser.

“I did not, sir! When I left my board those words were not there.”

“I don’t believe you,” remarked the commandant coolly.

“You must believe me, sir; I’m telling the truth. Those words were
written after I left. I did not write them and I haven’t the faintest
idea who did.”

“No one else could have written them. You were the last man out except
the instructor.”

“Some one else must have gotten in, sir. I know nothing about it.”
Ralph spoke with tremendous earnestness.

“Mr. Moehler,” the commandant asked, “when you walked out of the room
where did you go?”

“I stood in the doorway, sir, till the section marched off.”

“Did anybody enter while you stood there?”

“No, sir.”

“Are you certain?”

“Positive, sir. To have got in a person must have crowded by me, and
none did.”

“Did you see anybody around?”

“Nobody except Carroll, the colored man who wipes the chalk off the
boards. He entered the room just as I did.”

“Is this the colored man you are speaking of?”--indicating a man in the
hall.

“Yes, suh. I’se Carroll, suh; I’se bin heah fo’ty yeahs, suh. Doan’ you
rem’ber me, Mistah Thornton, doan’ yo’ rem’ber how I used to wait on
yo’ in de ole mess hall, and how I used to bring in tobacco fo’ yo’?
Doan’ you rem’ber how de commandment done about cotched yo’ smokin’ a
fine cigah onct, an’ I jerked it out er yo’ mouf an’ smoked et myself?”
Old Carroll chuckled at the recollection. “Golly, but yo’ wuz a fine
young gemmen; yo’ is commandment now, but yo’ mus’ be easy on dese
young gemmen, Mistah Thornton.”

“Carroll,” the commandant continued, ignoring the remarks of the old
man, “did you see this gentleman, Mr. Moehler, follow the midshipmen
out of the section room when the bell rang?”

“Yes, suh, I done see him. Mr. Osborn wuz de last young gemmen out;
den, mistah, dis man come to de do’r an’ stan’ dere. I wants to go in,
but Mistah Meal he stan’s in de do’rway, an’ I has to wait. Den wen
Mistah Meal he goes in an’ I ask him may I rub out and he tol’ me no.”

“It’s evident nobody could have written that but you, Mr. Osborn.
Carroll, did you see anybody enter the room?”

“No, suh, ’cept me an’ Mistah Meal.”

“It could have been done by none except one of this section and not one
could have written it without your knowledge; and you wrote it. It’s
folly for you to deny it,” continued the commandant to Ralph.

“I didn’t write it, sir,” Ralph cried out in anguish of heart, feeling
the world was slipping from his feet, and bewildered at what had
happened.

“Well, if you didn’t the person who did must be in the closet; Mr.
Moehler has not left the room, and the windows are all shut.”

The commandant threw open the closet door. The closet was entirely
bare, containing nothing but a few hooks. It was an inside dark closet
with no connection or exit visible except to the room.

“Give me a match, professor; I want to take a better look.”

Himski, who was one of the midshipmen present, carried the box of
matches from the professor to the closet. “Shall I light one?” he
asked, and without waiting for a reply, he lit one.

“Nothing here, door or window,” exclaimed the commandant, leaving the
closet. Himski remained there several minutes and then came out and
handed the match-box to Professor Scott.

The commandant now asked each midshipman in turn several questions.
Each denied any knowledge whatever of the matter. Himski was the last
to be questioned.

“Do you know anything about this writing?” asked the commandant.

“No, sir.”

“Did you happen to look at Mr. Osborn’s blackboard at any time during
the recitation?”

“Yes, sir; after I finished my recitation and took my seat I looked at
Mr. Osborn’s board.”

“How long was that before he left it?”

“I was looking at it when he left the board, and for a second or so
after he left it. In fact, Mr. Moehler may remember he reproved me for
not getting up promptly.”

“Then you saw Mr. Osborn’s board after he left it?”

“I did, sir.”

“And you saw this line on his board when he left it?” queried the
commandant, confidently.

Ralph listened with painful eagerness for Himski’s next words. He felt
his heart throbbing violently. He was dismayed and confounded, and
conscious as he was of his innocence, yet he felt the force of the
overwhelming evidence piled up against him.

Himski spoke deliberately and impressively. “When Mr. Osborn left his
board I was looking at it, and when he left the words concerning Mr.
Moehler were not on his board.”

A feeling of great relief shot through Ralph.

“That is ridiculous, Mr.---- What’s your name?”

“Himskihumskonski, sir.”

“Perfectly ridiculous, Mr. Himski--ahem--I didn’t catch all of your
name.”

“Everybody calls me Himski, sir; the name is too long.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about, Mr. Himski.” Commander
Thornton spoke angrily. “I place no credence at all in what you say.”

“Professor,” asked Himski, quietly, “have you a master or pass-key to
all the doors in this building? I think I may throw some light on this
subject.”

“Yes, here is one; I always carry it with me.”

Without asking to be excused Himski was off on a run and instantly
disappeared around the corridor. He was back in a very few minutes.

The commandant was pursuing his questions but nothing further was
developed.

“Well, sir,” he demanded sharply, as Himski came in the room, “do you
still persist in your ridiculous statement?”

“My statement was entirely correct, sir.”

“I don’t believe it and I shall recommend Mr. Osborn for dismissal.”

“I can prove he’s innocent, sir; prove it to your complete
satisfaction, captain, if you will only give me the chance. It will
take only a moment.”

There was eagerness and excitement in Himski’s dark, intelligent eyes
as he spoke, and all were impressed, even the commandant.

“I’ll give you the chance,” the latter said skeptically; “go ahead and
prove it, Mr. Himski.”

“Very well, sir.” Himski spoke rapidly. “Send each midshipman to his
board and then let everybody leave by Mr. Moehler’s order, just as if
the alarm for dismissal had sounded. Then remain in the corridor just
as long as Mr. Moehler did when he dismissed the section, and let him
spend as much time with Carroll as he did before.”

“Hold on, this is idiotic!” called out the commandant, but Himski
seemingly did not hear for he ran out of the room.

“This is foolish, professor,” said the commandant.

“We’d better give Mr. Osborn the chance, sir.”

“I request it, sir,” Ralph said, “though I’ve no idea of what Mr.
Himski is about to do.”

“Very well. Dismiss your section, sir.”

“Section rise, march out,” ordered Ralph. The midshipmen marched out
to the corridor and got their caps. “Fall in,” cried Ralph. “Section
forward, march.” He halted it a few steps down the corridor.

The commandant, Professor Scott and Mr. Moehler followed the section
out and watched it march off. They then turned leisurely, and entered
the room, the commandant feeling rather silly at taking part in this
apparently useless performance. He then looked at Ralph’s board,
and utter amazement possessed him. He and his two companions were
astounded; they were speechless with astonishment. For there, on
Ralph’s board, under the words, “Moehler is a liar and a fool,” was
written:

“Osborn never wrote it, sir.”




CHAPTER XX HIMSKI SAVES RALPH


The commandant rushed to the closet and threw open the door. It was
absolutely empty. He looked at the windows; all were shut. Professor
Scott and Mr. Moehler were mystified beyond expression.

“Well!” ejaculated Commander Thornton, “this beats me. The explanation
will be simple when Mr. Himski makes it, but I’m willing to believe
now that Mr. Osborn may not have written that line against you, Mr.
Moehler. He certainly didn’t write the words under it.”

“Mr. Himski!” called out the commandant in a loud voice.

“Here, sir,” replied Himski, entering the room.

“Did you write that on Mr. Osborn’s blackboard?”

“I wrote the bottom line, sir, not the one above it.”

“Of course, that’s what I mean. But will you please tell me how you
got into the room to do it? The windows were shut and locked and you
certainly didn’t come through the doorway.”

“I got in exactly as did the person who wrote the line about Mr.
Moehler, and it wasn’t Mr. Osborn, because I saw his board after he
left it, sir. If you will remain here a moment, sir, I will show you
how I did it.”

Himski left the room and in a couple of minutes the door of the closet
opened and he stepped into the recitation room, holding the closet door
open.

The commandant, Professor Scott and Mr. Moehler crowded into it. They
saw that what had been the ceiling of the closet was in reality a
trap-door, which was now raised, and in the closet was a ladder leading
to it.

“How did you discover all this, Mr. Himski?” asked the commandant
sharply.

“When I went into the closet with you, sir, I noticed some marks on the
white wall which could have been made by a ladder leaning against it. I
looked up, threw up a burning match, and observed there was a crack all
around the ceiling and it suddenly occurred to me that the ceiling was
a trap-door. I knew Osborn hadn’t written those words and I was certain
the only way that the man who did could have got into the room was by
the closet. So then I got professor’s pass-key and opened the door
leading to the garret. I found the trap-door and a ladder beside it. By
the garret door I found this piece of wax; some one had been taking an
impression of the lock. You know the rest, sir. It was easy to tiptoe
into the room from the closet without making a noise, write on the
board and get back to the closet without being discovered.”

“By George, Mr. Himski, I have much to thank you for. There must be
some scoundrel here who wants to get Mr. Osborn into trouble!”

“There is, sir, but that’s a long story; I will tell you about that
when you have time to listen to me.”

“Mr. Himski is right about that, captain,” broke in Professor Scott,
who until now had kept silent. “I know something about that myself, and
the former superintendent and your predecessor also knew about it.”

“You have saved me from doing an act of unconscious but cruel
injustice, Mr. Himski, and you have saved a classmate from a terrible
wrong. It is certain that but for what you have done Mr. Osborn must
have been dismissed. I will hear about your story later but now I must
see that section. They are in the hall; send them here.”

In a moment Ralph had marched his section in the room.

“Gentlemen,” began Commander Thornton, “Mr. Osborn did not write those
words concerning Mr. Moehler. The remarks I addressed to him are
entirely withdrawn. Mr. Osborn, I ask your pardon.” The commandant
paused and looked at Ralph.

“I’m so glad you don’t believe I wrote it, captain,” said Ralph huskily.

“Gentlemen, this is a most serious matter and will be investigated. You
are each directed to discuss this matter with no one, not even among
yourselves. You will all be held to a strict accountability should this
order be violated. Fall out, Mr. Osborn; second section leader will
take charge and march the section back to quarters.”

With great kindness the commandant now explained the situation to
Ralph, and the party went to the garret and saw how the whole thing had
been accomplished.

“Now, Mr. Osborn,” Commander Thornton said, “I want you to write out
a complete statement of everything that has happened to you since you
entered the Academy, and describe any trouble you have had with any
one. We will sift this thing to the bottom; and be assured that you
will receive full protection from me. The very fact that we know that
such a wicked thing could be planned to get you into such trouble will
protect you. It means you must be doubly careful in everything you do.”

“Thank you, sir,” cried Ralph, overjoyed that he had such a powerful
friend. “I will be careful, sir. These attacks have come several times
but I have never been able to imagine who wants to harm me.”

“We’ll go into that later, Mr. Osborn. Now don’t worry about it. We’ll
see that no harm comes to you; and we’ll use every effort to find out
who the perpetrator of this act was.”

Ralph returned to his room in a very sober, thoughtful state of mind.
That such deadly, determined hostility from an unknown source should be
manifested toward him was terrifying.

The fact that he could not imagine who was his enemy was maddening.
The blows had been so unexpected and had been aimed with such keen
intelligence and with such inveterate hate that fear took possession
of Ralph’s mind. He knew of no way to guard himself from such a
terrible foe. That he was under the commandant’s special protection was
comforting, yet his mind dwelt upon the hatred that had so relentlessly
pursued him. For a while he was morose and worried and looked upon
everybody except Himski with suspicion.

When he reached his room he commenced his statement to the commandant
and worked feverishly at it. He gave it to Commander Thornton the next
day. In writing it he was entirely undisturbed, for his roommate,
Creelton, was in the hospital with rheumatism. He had been there for
several days.

Some days later Himski was directed to report to the commandant.

“Mr. Himski,” he commenced,--“you must excuse me for not pronouncing
your entire name; it’s a little bit too much for me.”

“Yes, sir, it seems to be for everybody. Every one calls me Himski,
sir; I’m now more used to that than my entire name,” declared Himski.

“Well, we have had a complete investigation; of course you know of part
of it. I am referring to that writing that appeared on Mr. Osborn’s
blackboard.”

“Yes, sir.”

“It’s too bad; nothing whatever has been learned and we are entirely in
the dark. The only person that Mr. Osborn ever had any trouble with,
except Mr. Moehler, and of course he is out of it, was with a Mr. Short
who was a midshipman for a few days. Did you know about that?”

“Yes, sir.”

“However, that was a long time ago and Mr. Short has disappeared. He
left Annapolis, and from what we have been able to learn, he has not
been here since. Now here is Mr. Osborn’s letter, and here is also the
record of all the evidence that was given before the investigating
board. And also there are some papers written by my predecessor and an
anonymous letter signed: ‘Indignant Fourth Classman.’ The investigating
board’s report exonerates Mr. Osborn and all of the members of his
section, but doesn’t indicate any opinion as to who the culprit may be.
So we are just where we started from and are at sea completely. Now it
has occurred to me that you might help; your perspicacity in showing
how the section room was entered from the closet has so impressed me
that as a last resource I am going to give you this record and these
letters and ask you to study them carefully; if you can find any clue
as to who the guilty party may be I want you to report the fact to me.”

“Very well, sir,” and Himski took the papers and withdrew.

Himski was back in the commandant’s office a few days later with the
papers.

“Have you come to any conclusion?” he was asked.

“Yes, sir, but I hesitate to give it.”

“Why?”

“Because I may be entirely wrong, sir; I may do a classmate an awful
injury.”

“I understand that,” admitted Commander Thornton, aglow with interest,
“but we must pursue every circumstance to wherever it may lead us. I
want you to tell me frankly just what you suspect. This matter will be
entirely confidential between you and me. If your suspicions are wrong
no harm will be done.”

“Well, sir, I have hunted for a motive. No one could desire such
injury toward Mr. Osborn except by a strong motive of revenge. Before
Mr. Osborn came to the Academy he never experienced the enmity of
anybody. That is certain, and since he has been a midshipman there have
been repeated efforts from an unknown source to get him into serious
trouble, to defame and disgrace him.”

“Yes, yes I know,” cut in the commandant impatiently.

“He never has had trouble except with that man Short; Mr. Osborn caused
Short to be dismissed with ignominy, and I have come to the conclusion
that Short was the real author of the dastardly attempts against Mr.
Osborn.”

“I could believe that if Mr. Short had remained at Annapolis; but if he
were the author then he must have had a tool in the Academy.”

“Yes, sir. After coming to this conclusion I have endeavored to learn
everything I could about Short. I knew him, of course; when preparing
for entrance here he rented a furnished house and had four candidates
live with him as his guests. Two of these failed to pass the entrance
examination; one entered but failed last year, so there now remains
at the Academy but one midshipman who was once one of Short’s guests.
Also I learned out in town, Saturday, that Short was seen to enter the
Maryland Hotel the night of the June ball, last year. The livery-stable
keeper saw him and recognized him. And a strange coincidence happened.
After I left the livery-stable last Saturday afternoon which is near
the railway station, I passed a man who was in a great hurry. He had
just alighted from a carriage and was about to go into the station.
This man was Short, I’m certain of it. He wore a heavy mustache but I
know it was Short. I said, ‘Hello, Short!’ And he said: ‘You’ve made a
mistake, mister.’ This proves that Short was in town a few days after
the last attempt was made against Mr. Osborn, and I connect him with
that attempt.”

“But no civilian could have gone about that building, in the corridors
and through the garret without being stopped.”

“No, sir,” and Himski hesitated.

“What is your idea, Mr. Himski?”

The latter spoke very slowly, saying: “But a midshipman could have
without question, sir.”

“By Jove, we’re coming to something. Go on,” and the commandant’s
manner was now excited.

“I hate to go on, sir; I may be injuring an innocent man.”

“Who was Short’s fourth guest, Mr. Himski; the one who is now in the
Academy?”

“Creelton, sir. Mr. Osborn’s roommate.”

“Is that possible? But Mr. Creelton must have returned with his own
section after recitation. The man who went through that closet could
not have marched back with his own section.”

“Mr. Creelton was in sick quarters with rheumatism in one leg; he had
to go to all recitations but did not march in a section. He went to and
from the hospital, as is customary, alone, merely reporting his leaving
and returning.”

“So Mr. Creelton could have done it without attracting attention?”

“Yes, sir.”

The commandant was silent for a while, and then said: “You may be
right, Mr. Himski, but these are small grounds on which to accuse a
man.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Now don’t talk of this matter to any one but come to me if you learn
anything that increases or lessens your suspicion. How is Mr. Creelton
thought of in his class?”

“He is rather popular, sir; he spends a lot of money, and is
tremendously generous with it; he stands high in his studies. The
fellows think well of him; on the whole, though, he hasn’t any very
intimate friends.”

“Have you any suggestion to make?”

“Yes, sir; Mr. Osborn is worrying himself sick; he looks upon everybody
with suspicion and I don’t blame him. I suggest he be ordered to room
with me. If Creelton should be the man he will be protected against
him, and anyway I think the effect upon Osborn will be good if he rooms
with me. He is depending a good deal on me at present.”

“I’ll have that done, Mr. Himski. But it’s difficult for me to conceive
the hold Mr. Short could have on any midshipman to compel such
dastardly acts to be done.”




CHAPTER XXI “CREELTON, I BELIEVE YOU ARE THE MAN”


Several days after this last unsuccessful attempt was made to injure
Ralph Osborn, at about eight o’clock one evening a window in the
second story of sick quarters, the midshipmen’s hospital (which was a
separate building situated at a little distance from main quarters)
was cautiously opened, and a head slowly appeared; the owner of it
looked up and down, evidently satisfying himself no one was about, and
then his entire body emerged from the window, and in a moment he was
on the veranda just outside. He stepped quickly across the veranda and
immediately climbed down one of the supporting columns and was soon
in the grounds without having been seen by anybody. He walked quickly
and easily toward the other part of the yard, keeping in the shadow
of trees and avoiding the walks; but in crossing Maryland Avenue he
espied an officer approaching him. The young man immediately adopted an
aggravated limp.

“Halt!” called out the officer, well knowing it was study hours, and
that no midshipman had a right to be out of his quarters at that time.

“Are you coming from sick quarters?” he demanded.

“Yes, sir,” replied the midshipman, the tones of his voice not
expressing the terror he felt.

“Very well,” replied the officer, returning the midshipman’s salute and
passing on.

The midshipman limped away for a short distance and then straightening
up, hurried on. In a few moments he had gained a thick clump of bushy
trees near the band stand where he was lost in complete darkness.

“You’re here at last, are you, Creelton?” said a low voice from amidst
the trees.

“Where are you, Short? I can’t see anything.”

“Over here. Well, you’ve failed again, have you?”

“Don’t talk so loud, Short; some one may hear you.”

“I’ll talk as loud as I please. Don’t you tell me what or what not to
do, you miserable failure!”

“I’ve had enough of that kind of talk, Short; you can pipe that down
from now on.”

“Oh, you have, have you? Perhaps after a little jail experience you
will wish you hadn’t been so lippy to me.”

The other in sudden temper jumped upon him, and shook him violently.
The weak, dissipated Short was but a child in the hands of the athletic
Creelton. His teeth chattered in fear of what might be coming.

“Don’t hurt me,” he gasped. “I didn’t mean anything.”

“You’re a hound,” growled Creelton; “now, Short, just understand one
thing: if you ever threaten me again, or say jail to me, I’ll beat you
into a pulp; I’ve had all of that kind of talk from you I’m going to
stand.”

“What will you do if I use your confession against you? Have you
thought of that?”

“Yes, I have; I don’t doubt it would dismiss me but I’d make a clean
breast of everything. You have that letter, have you? Well, I have all
of yours; everything I have stolen has been at your instigation; your
letters will prove that; if you try to use that written confession of
mine you will start a blast against your name that will fill columns in
every paper in the country. If I go to jail I’ll take good pains to see
that you are my companion there.”

“Creelton, you wouldn’t treat me that way after all the money I’ve
given you, would you?”

“Not if you’re decent. But I’ll tell you frankly I’m done. I’ll take
no more risks; I’ll never do another thing against Osborn. I’m glad
the last attempt failed. But it didn’t fail through any fault of mine;
I did my part perfectly, and I was almost caught. I’m done, Short,
entirely done,” and Creelton heaved a sigh of relief.

“Why did it fail, Creelton?”

“I don’t know. I’ve been at sick quarters and we got rumors, very
indifferent ones, about what happened; Scott and the commandant were in
the room, and the commandant told Osborn he would be dismissed; then
Himski wanted to prove something and the section was marched out and
halted; in a few minutes the commandant came up and said it was all
a mistake and apologized to Osborn. That’s what I heard and I can’t
afford to ask too many questions. I’m glad it did fail. You’d better
give it up, Short.”

“I never will,” snapped out Short. “I’ve one last plan which I’ve
thought up. It will work if I have fair luck and it will dismiss him
but not in disgrace. But there’d be no use in trying it now; I’ll wait
a year till this blows over. Will you help me?”

“Not a bit of it. I’m through. And don’t imagine you can ever hold that
confession over my head; if you ever try to do anything with it it will
hurt you worse than it will me.”

“Look here, Creelton, I’ll pay you well if you’ll help me.”

“What is your plan?”

“Will you help me?”

“I will not.”

“Then I won’t tell you. Creelton, I want to make a trade; I’ll trade
your confession for my letters which you have.”

“I’ll do that when I graduate, not before.”

“Why not now?”

“Just because I won’t. You’d better take good care of my confession; if
it gets out, your letters get out too.”

“I’ll give you five hundred dollars and your confession for them. Won’t
you let me have them?”

“I will not.”

“Why not?”

“Just because you want them so badly, to keep you straight. I’ll trade
when I graduate.”

“You’ll be friendly, won’t you, Creelton?” asked the miserable Short,
anxiously.

“That depends on you.”

“Here’s fifty dollars, Creelton; take it.”

“I don’t want your money; I won’t take it.”

“Oh, yes you do; I’ve lots more, millions. Creelton, let’s be friendly
even if you won’t help me against Osborn. I want you to spend your
September leave with me; I’ve just bought a beautiful steam yacht; we
can have a fine time cruising about in September. What do you say?”

“That will be glorious, Short,” cried Creelton enthusiastically; “I’ll
be glad to. But look here, if it were known I was cruising with you
everybody would imagine you and I had put up those jobs on Osborn.”

“Oh, you’ll be Mr. Smith till we get away to sea or foreign ports.
We’ll fix that all right.”

From now on a most amicable conversation ensued, and Creelton was fired
with delight at the idea of a yachting trip. They separated after
nine-thirty, Creelton getting back to sick quarters without his absence
being known and Short going out to the hotel.

The next day Creelton was discharged from the sick list and returned to
his quarters. He greeted Ralph effusively. The latter looked worried
and said but little.

“What’s the matter, Os?” queried Creelton. “You don’t seem pleased to
see me.”

“Creelton, there’s only one midshipman in this whole Academy that I
trust,” replied Ralph, looking fixedly at him. “I have an enemy here;
I believe it is a classmate. I feel I am apt to be stabbed in the back
at any moment. I have had too many serious things happen to me to
permit me to be easy in my mind; I am haunted by fear every moment. The
thought that is in my mind at this moment is,” and here Ralph’s eyes
seemed to look Creelton through and through, “you may be the man.”

[Illustration: “You may be the man”]

Creelton’s breath came in quick gasps; he felt as though something
within him had ceased to exist, that animation and feeling had stopped
for a moment, and then had suddenly burst the barrier in a great rush
of throbbing and beating. “Oh, don’t say that, Os; you can’t think that
of me,” he blurted out in his confusion.

“You may be the man,” repeated Ralph, almost oracularly, his eyes never
leaving Creelton’s blanched face, with a strange wondering feeling
in his heart that he would not be surprised if Creelton were his
mysterious, unknown foe.

Before Creelton could make any reply, a tap was heard at the door and
the midshipman in charge of the floor entered.

“Osborn and Creelton, report to the officer-in-charge immediately,” he
ordered and then disappeared.

They went at once to the office where Lieutenant Fellows was in charge;
Bollup was already there.

“Ordered to report to you, sir,” said Ralph.

“Ah, yes. Mr. Osborn, you are to shift roommates; you are to room with
Mr. Himski,--move your things after drill to-day.”

“Very well, sir; but may I ask who has ordered the change?”

“The commandant has. And, Mr. Bollup, you are to room with Mr.
Streeter; change after drill. Mr. Creelton, you are to move into a
smaller room, to number 169.”

“Very well, sir; but can you tell me why this change is made?” asked
Creelton.

“It’s the commandant’s order; you may see him if you desire.”

As they left the office, Ralph said to Creelton in a low voice, with
his eyes full of meaning: “Creelton, I believe that you are the man,
and I believe the commandant knows it.”

“I’m not; don’t you dare say that,” stammered Creelton.

“I believe you’re the man,” repeated Ralph, walking away.

He went directly to Himski’s room and found him there alone.

“Himski, I’m going to room with you,” he cried, “and I’m so glad. I’ve
become suspicious of everybody but you and those people in the section
with me; I’ve about worried myself sick. But now I feel I know who
my enemy is; I’ve no proof but I feel it in my bones. I believe it’s
Creelton. Isn’t that awful? I was suspecting everybody pretty much and
I suddenly told Creelton I believed it was he. I’d been thinking that
of almost everybody I had looked at lately; but somehow, I can’t tell
why, when I said that to Creelton, the conviction suddenly came over me
that he was the one who has done all of these terrible things against
me. It was an instinctive feeling with me, something that surged up
in my heart. It’s an awful thing to accuse a man of; the more I have
thought of it the stronger I believe it.”

“What did he say when you accused him of it?” asked Himski eagerly.

“Oh, I don’t know; he denied it, of course, and seemed scared. He sort
of stammered. But say, Himski, do you know why I am ordered to room
with you?”

“Yes, Os. I have been studying this remarkable hatred that has followed
you so relentlessly. Such a thing must have a cause, and your discovery
of Short’s villainy and his consequent expulsion must have been the
cause. So I studied up Short’s record and came to the conclusion that
Short’s hatred of you must be the incentive. And then I came across
the fact that when Short was here as a candidate Creelton lived with
him as his guest. So I have imagined that Short and Creelton have been
in constant communication, and that Creelton was the active agent of
Short. I told this to the commandant and suggested you room with me; I
wanted to get you away from Creelton.”

“By gracious, Himski, you are what I call a real friend. You have done
more for me than anybody else could have. Thank you ever so much.
I’m certain it’s Creelton. Isn’t it awful to think a man can be so
horrible?”

“Go slow, Os; we may be mistaken. It’s the commandant’s orders that
neither of us is to speak to any one of my suspicions, and of course of
your own. We must have some proof, and it may come later if he is the
guilty one. You must treat him just as you always have.”

“I’ll not do so,” cried Ralph, his eyes blazing with anger; “I’ll punch
his head the first time I see him.”

“No, you won’t, not if you’re sensible; wait till we can prove him
guilty; it would be foolish now. We might defeat all chances of
detecting him.”

Ralph thought for a few moments, and then said: “All right; I’ll leave
him alone, but I’ll never speak to him. I’ll not be the same to him as
I have been.”

“Very well, Os; but be careful not to talk to any one.”

“I won’t, but I’m glad I’m going to room with you. I’ll bring in my
things after drill.”

Ralph returned to his room where he found Creelton with a flushed,
worried face.

“Os, you can’t have meant what you said,” he commenced.

“Every word of it, Creelton,” returned Ralph. “I believe this whole
business is the work of you and Short, that you are Short’s tool.
That’s my opinion, Mr. Creelton; you can go to the commandant about it
if you wish; but I’ll never speak to you again.”

Creelton listened to Ralph with dry mouth and parched lips; his feet
seemed to give way, he staggered to the table, and then helplessly
fell into his chair. His breath came quickly and he seemed dazed,
for he made no effort to reply to Ralph. His staring eyes, full of
apprehension, seemed starting from their sockets. He had the appearance
of a thoroughly frightened man; one whose guilt had suddenly been
discovered.

After Ralph was settled with Himski it seemed to him that he had never
been so free from worry since his entrance at Annapolis. He was firm
in the belief that Creelton was the secret enemy who had so shamefully
attacked him, and now, knowing in his heart that it was Creelton, he no
longer worried about it. A secret enemy may be feared while a known one
disdained. And this was the effect upon Ralph. A heavy, anxious load
seemed immediately lifted from his mind. He kept entirely aloof from
Creelton and cut him utterly. Neither he nor Creelton told anybody of
the cause of the trouble between them. When questioned Creelton said it
was a misunderstanding; Ralph said he could not discuss it.

Toward Creelton Ralph had but one thought; that it was a monstrous idea
that a man so vicious and criminal, as Ralph believed Creelton to be,
could remain a midshipman; he wanted to have Creelton’s room searched
and proposed other means to determine the question of his guilt.
Creelton’s room was searched, at his own request, by Himski, but no
evidence was found against him. From this time on Creelton roomed alone
and gradually withdrew from the set he had formerly been most intimate
with. But he was a bright young man mentally, and in his studies stood
near the head of his class.




CHAPTER XXII RALPH AT BOLLUP’S HOME


“How did you come out in your exams to-day, Os?” asked Himski at the
end of May, when the annual examinations were held.

“Pretty well, old chap; how did you?”

“I guess I made three fifty, but if you admit doing ‘pretty well’ it
means you made a four. It’s wonderful how you knock exams, Os.”

Ralph laughed happily. “I admit I enjoy my studies,” he said; “it now
seems so easy to make big marks. But you’ll stand number one for the
year, Himski; I’m up in math[7] and skinny,[8] but way down in French.
You’re one in that and I’m number thirty; you’ll head the class in the
general average for the year.”

“Perhaps, but everything is math next year and you’ll surely stand
first. And I’ll be glad to see you, too. But look out for Bollup; he’s
doing very well in everything.”

“He is indeed, and he’s a double-riveted, copper-bottomed, bevel-edged,
all round good fellow. Nothing could please me more than to see good
fortune come to Bollup. But did you see the marks old Moehler gave me
for the month? He gave me a four every day; he isn’t such a bad fellow
after all, is he?”

Himski laughed. “I wouldn’t think so if he gave me a four for the
month,” he replied. “Moehler is all right; he just had to get
acquainted with the place, that’s all. Say, Os, why do you go to the
gymnasium every night?”

“Oh, I’m practicing boxing; I’m doing some heavy weight slugging. If I
should get into an argument with Creelton I’d probably lose my temper,
and we’d get into a fight, and I want to be able to take care of
myself.”

“You needn’t worry. If Creelton is the man we suspect he is, he’ll
never fight. But we’ll have a fine time here during the summer while
the other classes are on leave, won’t we?”

“Yes, but I imagine it will be hot. We are to work in the different
shops every morning and have boat sailing every afternoon.”

The end of Ralph’s third class year was soon at hand. It is ever a
joyous time at Annapolis; for each year at this time it blossoms into
happiness. Graduation came and left Ralph a second classman, and he was
immediately conscious of added dignity. The old tune “Ain’t I glad to
get out of the Wilderness” once more rang in his ears. “And in two more
years, Himski,” he said to his roommate, “that tune will be played for
you and for me.”

Himski stood first in his class for the year, Bollup second, Ralph
third, and Creelton fourth. There were now seventy midshipmen left in
the class, some having been dropped, or “bilged,” as midshipmen say,
for being unsatisfactory in studies.

Ralph’s class remained at Annapolis during the summer. The mornings
were spent in the shops, at machine work, blacksmithing and boiler
work. Here, in grimy working clothes, each midshipman was given tools
and required to perform different tasks. At the end of August Ralph
could turn out quite a respectable piece of work from a lathe, a shaper
or planer; could weld pieces of wrought iron, and was quite an all
around machinist. The afternoons were generally spent in different
seamanship drills, boat sailing taking up most of the time.

September first soon came and all midshipmen except fourth classmen
were given a month’s leave. Ralph left at once for Toledo, but in spite
of cordial greetings from many friends, with his dear father not there,
Toledo no longer seemed home to him; and so in the middle of September
he joyfully accepted an invitation from Bollup to spend the remainder
of his leave at the latter’s home in Virginia.

On his arrival at the little country station, he was most
enthusiastically received by Bollup who was waiting for him in a buggy.

“Hurrah for you,” called out Bollup as soon as he caught sight of him.
“By George, but I’m glad to see you. Hop in, old man; we’ve got a short
drive and then we’ll be home and a real old Virginia supper will be
ready for us.”

Happy friendship beamed all over Bollup’s handsome face, and Ralph felt
he was once more with his own kind. The short drive proved to be over
three miles in length on a hot, dusty road, through a country where no
houses except negro shanties were to be seen. But the happy young men
did not mind this, having much to talk about. Finally Bollup turned to
the left down a lane, and was soon in a grove of beautiful cedar trees,
whose overtowering branches completely embowered the lane they were in.
“Our place commences here,” said Bollup with satisfied pride. “How do
you like it?”

“Like it? I love it,” cried Ralph; “it’s beautiful. Aren’t these woods
gorgeous? But where’s your house?”

“Oh, half a mile down; we won’t see it till we are close to it. Here’s
where I was brought up, Os; it’s the dearest spot on earth to me. And
here’s where my grandfather and his grandfather’s grandfathers for two
hundred years back, lived and died. There! You can see the house now;
we are just coming in view of it.”

“No wonder it is the dearest place on earth to you, Bollup. What a
beautiful place to live in!”

The house was built of brick on the simple colonial lines, with great
thick walls and wings on each side. It was the typical old Southern
homestead. The lawns were large and beautifully kept and surrounded by
heavy woods. At the back was the beautiful James River.

Bollup’s father and mother, and his two sisters, Gladys and Dorothy,
were awaiting them, and gave Ralph a real heartfelt Virginia welcome.

“I’m glad to meet you, sir,” said Colonel Bollup, a Virginian of
obsolescent type. “Tom’s friends are my friends, sir, and I bid you
welcome to our home, sir. This is Mrs. Bollup, Tom’s mother, and
these young ladies are his sisters. Now, sir, you will probably want
to remove the dust of travel and wash up a bit, and, Tom, suppose
you go and pick some mint; select only the small, tender, upper
branches; we’ll introduce Mr. Osborn to a real mint julep, something
basely imitated all over the land, sir, all over the land, but never
successfully.”

Kindly greetings were showered on Ralph by Mrs. Bollup; she was glad to
meet one of her boy’s friends. Ralph liked them all immediately; he was
instantly attracted by the frank, blue-eyed, beautiful Gladys who was
about eighteen years old; she was tall and slender and good to look at.
Dorothy was six years younger and was evidently much interested in her
brother’s friend.

Ralph was led into a cool, spacious room. Great content entered his
heart as he looked out on the broad James. “I wish I could always live
in a place like this,” he reflected. “How beautiful such a life would
be!”

He was soon down-stairs, thoroughly refreshed, and there awaiting him
was the family. “Here, sir,” said Colonel Bollup, “here is the real
mint julep I was talking about.”

“Thank you, sir,” said Ralph, “but I had resolved not to drink anything
until after I graduate; I am not lacking in appreciation, sir, but I
hope you will excuse me.”

“Of course Colonel Bollup will excuse you,” said Mrs. Bollup; “you are
just right, Mr. Osborn, and I wish Tom would follow your example. Tom,
you’ve already had one julep to-day; you ought not to drink another.”

“Pshaw, a julep will never hurt him,” said Colonel Bollup. “All right,
Mr. Osborn, I’m sorry you won’t join us,” and in fact he was quite
disappointed; “but here’s good luck to you, sir,” and he drank his
julep and then took the one Ralph had declined and drank that with much
apparent enjoyment; and young Tom Bollup drank his julep in a manner
that showed that a julep was nothing strange or new to him.

With the Bollups Ralph was ushered into a kind of life he had never
known. The nearest neighbor lived three miles away, and the Bollup
family were sufficient unto themselves. The estate covered more than
a thousand acres though but little of it was now cultivated. In the
morning there were pleasant drives and in the late afternoon delightful
walks along the beautiful James River. An easy comradeship soon sprang
up between Ralph and Gladys Bollup, and they frequently wandered away
by themselves.

“Oh, Mr. Osborn,” said Gladys, late one afternoon, while they were idly
resting, “I’m so glad you didn’t take that mint julep; Tom takes them
all the time, and papa encourages him to. Sometimes I worry for fear he
may take too much; if he should you will try to influence him, won’t
you?” And Gladys looked at Ralph with a mute appeal in her tender blue
eyes that made him feel it would be a great happiness for him if he
could do anything for this dear girl.

“Indeed you needn’t worry, Miss Gladys,” he said. “Tom never took a
drink at the Academy the two years he has been there; he is one of my
two best friends; you may be sure there’s nothing on earth I wouldn’t
do for him if I could. Don’t worry over the juleps; he’ll forget
about them. But how you must love it here! I could not imagine a more
beautiful home. There is your grand old house, with its beautiful,
attractive grounds, the beautiful lawns, the majestic old trees
situated on this glorious river. I should think you would never want to
leave it.”

“I’m always glad to get back, but it gets lonely after a time; I’m
going to a school in Staunton during the winters; we have lots of good
times there, but the old place does look friendly when I come back to
it. But it’s getting late and supper will be waiting, so let’s go back
to the house.”

After supper the family gathered on the porch, as usual, chatting till
bedtime.

“That Lambo has been seen around here again,” remarked Colonel Bollup.

“I hope the scoundrel is caught,” exclaimed Tom. “I’d like to pull on a
rope that would swing him off the earth.”

“How you do talk, Tom,” said Gladys. “You know you wouldn’t do anything
of the kind.”

“Who is Lambo?” asked Ralph.

“He’s a very bad, desperate negro,” said the colonel; “he has served
several penitentiary sentences, and a year ago set a house on fire,
robbed and nearly killed Mr. Osgood who lives five miles from us. He
then disappeared and everybody hoped he would never be seen again. But
some of the colored folks say he is back and I suppose we will soon
hear of some new act of violence by him.”

“I do hope not,” said Mrs. Bollup. “By the way, Gladys, our cook tells
me that Aunt Sarah is sick; won’t you drive over to-morrow and take her
a basket of things she would like?”

“May I go too, mother?” asked Dorothy.

“Yes, indeed; I’ll have James get the horses ready early so you can
start at nine o’clock.” And then Mrs. Bollup explained to Ralph that
“Aunt Sarah” was an old colored woman, now living in a little cabin
several miles distant, who had served the Bollup family when the
colonel was a boy.

“It looks as if we are going to have rainy weather,” remarked the
colonel; “you had better use the closed carriage to-morrow.”

The next morning was threatening in appearance, so the horses were
hitched to a very ancient closed carriage and the young girls drove off
at nine o’clock.

“Say, Os,” remarked Tom, “suppose you and I go to see Aunt Sarah; we
can take a short cut through the woods. I don’t think it’s going to
rain; we’ll get there by the time the girls do. Aunt Sarah is a real
character, one of the old slavery days servants; there aren’t many of
her kind left now.”

“I’ll be glad to go,” Ralph replied.

“All right; just pick up a ball club in the hall; there are lots of
snakes in the woods.”

Both young men picked up baseball bats, and started joyously on their
tramp through the woods.

It was still and dark through the woods; no sunlight pierced through
the heavy lowering clouds overhead, and the thick, intertwined
branches, almost keeping out the daylight, made it seem as if it were
nearly night.

By the time the carriage containing Gladys and Dorothy had arrived
near Aunt Sarah’s cabin it was raining heavily. The cabin was a little
distance off the road.

“We’re here, Miss Gladys; but it’s rainin’ powerful bad,” said the
faithful James, stopping the horses and turning around to talk to the
two girls through an opening behind his coachman’s seat. “It’s rainin’
too bad fo’ you to walk in it; yo’ll spile dem nice close of yourn. Yo’
lem me take de basket; I’ll tell Aunt Sarah you’se heah but can’t come
out.”

“All right, James, take the basket; will the horses stand without
hitching?”

“I won’t promise they’ll stand, Miss Gladys; dey may lie down. Dey
shorly am de tiridist horses I ever seen.” And James, laughing at his
joke, took the basket and soon disappeared down a little lane at the
end of which was Aunt Sarah’s cabin.

An instant later, to her horror, Gladys saw a negro with an evil,
vicious face, come out of the woods on the other side of the road. She
instinctively knew him to be that desperate Lambo. Gladys and Dorothy
screamed in terror as he approached the carriage, realizing they were
in danger. Lambo gave them little more than a passing glance but
quickly jumped on the box, and seizing the reins, lashed the horses
savagely. A moment later shouts were heard. Lambo turned around
quickly, took a pistol from his pocket, discharged it, and whipped up
his horses to a run. He then turned around, and with the smoking pistol
in his hand said: “I know you; you’re the Bollup girls. I’ve a score to
settle with your father and I can see my way to do it. If you’re quiet
I’ll let you out further down; but if you’re not I’ll shoot you as I
have just shot your brother.”

The two girls clasped each other in terror. They were too frightened to
speak. Terror-stricken, they looked with blanched faces at the ugly,
horrible creature as he spoke. A dread that their brother Tom had been
shot possessed them, and they knew not what terrible treatment they
might receive at the hands of the desperate negro.

FOOTNOTES:

[7] Math,--slang for mathematics.

[8] Skinny,--slang for physics and chemistry.




CHAPTER XXIII RALPH SAVES BOLLUP FROM DISMISSAL


“There’s the carriage; it’s stopping,” said Bollup to Ralph, as the two
lads emerged from the woods. “Let’s hurry; we’ll get in it and out of
this rain.” And Bollup started on a run. Ralph was behind and to his
left. It was at this moment that Lambo had jumped to the carriage seat.
Bollup yelled at him; Lambo turned half around and perceiving Bollup
shouted back at him defiantly and fired his pistol at him, driving
rapidly at the same time. The desperate negro did not see Ralph, nor
did he know, when he had turned around and was threatening the two
girls inside, that hanging on the rear axle of the old carriage was a
determined, broad-shouldered youth with an ominous looking baseball
bat clutched along the axle. Ralph was soon standing on the axle, and
peering over the top of the carriage at this lawless negro, who was
now lashing his horses into a dead run. Ralph quickly scrambled on top
of the carriage, bat in hand. The noise attracted the negro who turned
around and saw a determined, powerful avenger raising a club with both
hands high over his head. With a howl of rage and fright he started to
aim his pistol at Ralph, but in the same instant the club came down
with deadening force on the negro’s head, sending the pistol off at
the same time. Lambo rolled off the carriage in a heap; his skull was
cracked, and the bullet from his own pistol had gone through his heart.
Without concerning himself with Lambo’s fate Ralph clambered to the
driver’s seat, reached down and gathered up the reins, and soon had
the old horses slowed to a trot. Looking back he saw, some distance
behind, Bollup and a negro, evidently James, bending over a man’s body
lying face down in the road. He then stopped the horses and assured the
girls: “You’re safe, girls; everything is all right. Tom is beckoning
me to come back; I’m going to turn the horses around.”

He turned around and started back. At a little distance Bollup came
running up. “Bully for you, Os,” he cried; “the scoundrel is dead,” he
added lowering his voice; “let me get in, and drive quickly by where he
is lying; I don’t want the girls to see him.”

Ralph stopped long enough for Bollup to jump inside, and then drove off
rapidly, and in half an hour the carriage was back at Hampden Grove. It
was raining furiously now, not a propitious time for conversation, nor
did Ralph attempt any through the aperture to the brother and sisters
in the carriage. He was utterly drenched, and when the horses stopped
in front of the house, he jumped to the ground and said: “I’ll get you
an umbrella and then will change into dry clothes.” He dashed into the
house and returned in a moment with two umbrellas which he handed to
Bollup who was assisting the two girls out of the carriage, and then
Ralph bounded up to his room.

Bollup rushed in a few moments later. “You killed him, Os,” he cried;
“how did you get his pistol?”

“I didn’t have his pistol; I hit him with the ball club just as he
fired at me,” explained Ralph.

“He killed himself then,” said Bollup. “By George, old man, I can’t
express my feelings. When I saw that villain drive off with my sisters,
and saw you climbing up on top of the carriage I was wild with fear and
anxiety. I was afraid he would shoot you. The very happiest instant of
my life seemed to last ages and ages; it was when you were bringing the
club down on the rascal’s head. By gracious, but that was well done!
And I’m thankful the fellow did his own dirty work. I’m glad he spared
some white man the duty of killing him. Come down quickly; father is
wild to see you. Mother is pretty much upset, but you’ll find you own
Hampden Grove and all that’s in it.”

When Ralph went down-stairs, Mrs. Bollup came to him, and said: “My
dear boy----” and then the thought of the danger all of her children
had just passed through almost overcame her, and tears flowed from her
eyes. “My dear Ralph, I shall always love you,” she said, and then
bent forward and kissed him.

“What a hero you are, Mr. Osborn,” said Dorothy; “I am so glad to know
a real hero.”

Gladys thanked Ralph quietly, but with a deep sincerity and
appreciation that went straight to that young man’s heart. There was
much excitement in the family, and Ralph received unmeasured praise and
admiration for his timely action.

The few remaining days of his September leave drew rapidly to a close.
Surrounded by the love and sympathy of this delightful family it had
indeed been a happy visit for him. He was “Ralph” to all of them
now, and when he and Bollup left for Annapolis, on the last day of
September, it was with a full understanding that he would visit them
the next year.

Most of Ralph’s second class year at the Naval Academy can be briefly
told; all but the final catastrophe which caused his expulsion and
brought such bitter sorrow to himself and his friends; because the act
he committed was so utterly foolish, and of his guilt there was no
question.

That Ralph would stand first in his class for this, the third year,
was a foregone conclusion. Until near the end of the year it was a
happy time for him, full of hard work which was well appreciated. At
the end of the first month he led his class in all of the studies;
mathematics, engineering, electricity, seamanship, navigation
and gunnery, all yielded to his bright mentality and presented
no difficulty to him. He did equally well in recitations and in
examinations, and in his outdoor drills he took great zest. He no
longer had a hidden enemy to fear; there was not a question in his mind
as to who had been guilty of the shameful acts against him, and knowing
it was Creelton, he disdained him. He continually felt it was a great
pity that that vicious youth could not be exposed and dismissed, but
beyond Ralph’s and Himski’s suspicions there was no tangible evidence
to connect Creelton with those crimes.

Creelton had no intention whatever of attempting to injure Ralph
further, and he was much relieved that he had successfully defied
Short. Creelton feared Ralph and kept away from him. For a while
Creelton avoided the temptation to steal, but after he became easy in
regard to Ralph he again occasionally gave play to his old thieving
habits. He didn’t take anything very valuable, but took a delight in
stealing stamps and towels and small articles whenever he was certain
he would not be detected.

One morning in February Ralph overslept himself; he didn’t hear the six
o’clock gun or the reveille of the bugle; Himski was on duty in charge
of a floor, so he had left Ralph at a quarter before six. As a result
Ralph received ten demerits; and then as ill luck would have it, he
was also reported twice that month: once for “visiting during study
hours,” and also for “room out of order at inspection”; and so for the
month of March, Ralph was in the second conduct grade and deprived of
many Saturday privileges.

On the last Saturday in March Bollup came to Ralph and said: “Os, I
wish you could come out in town with me to-day. I’ve met a fine lot of
fellows that came down from New York in a private car; I’d like to have
you know them.”

“I’d like to, Tom; bring them in the yard, can’t you?”

“They were in here this morning and have asked some people out to see
them this afternoon. I don’t suppose they’ll come in the yard again.
I’m awfully sorry you’re on the second conduct grade. Well, so long;
I’ll see you at supper.”

Several hours later Bollup joined Ralph as the latter was waiting
for the call to supper formation. Bollup was flushed in face, talked
loudly, and laughed boisterously at nothing. Ralph was startled and
dismayed. He knew what the trouble was; he had once or twice, though
not to the same extent, seen symptoms of the same thing after Bollup
had taken mint juleps at Hampden Grove. But whereas there they might
be harmless, at the Naval Academy drinking them or any kind of liquor
would cause a midshipman to be dismissed.

And so Ralph watched Bollup with keen anxiety, hoping no notice would
be taken of his condition.

“I’m having a bully time, Os, Os, Os, Os, you good old Os, the bulliest
time a midshipman ever had, had, had. And I’m going out to dinner with
my chums. I’ve permission to fall out after formation.”

The bugle call now sounded for formation and all midshipmen fell into
ranks, and all talking stopped. Fear gripped Ralph’s heart; he did not
know what might happen to Bollup, and he himself was powerless to avert
the evil.

After supper he hung around Maryland Avenue gate, questioning different
midshipmen returning from liberty if they had seen or heard anything of
Bollup.

“Why, yes,” at last said a third classman, “I heard Bollup had been
taken sick, and was left at the Maryland Hotel by some New York
friends of his who have just left town,” and the third classman smiled
knowingly at Ralph.

Ralph was now desperate. Bollup was probably unable to take care of
himself; perhaps he was in a deep sleep. He would be reported at ten
o’clock taps inspection for being out of his room and it was absolutely
certain that discovery of his condition would result. This meant but
one thing--Bollup’s dismissal from the Academy. And in Ralph’s mind
rose a picture of the grief and shame that would assail the dear family
in Hampden Grove, and of the blasting of his best friend’s career. It
was now nearly nine o’clock. These thoughts crowded through Ralph’s
mind, and willing to sacrifice almost anything for Bollup, he shot
through the gate and ran down Maryland Avenue.

“Hold on, Osborn, you’re on the second conduct grade; you can’t go
out,” called out the midshipman officer of the day at the gate. But
Ralph heeded him not and ran on. He well knew he would be reported for
“absenting himself from academic limits without authority”; “but I can
better take fifty demerits and a month’s restriction than have Bollup
bilged,” he said to himself. At the corner of Prince George Street
he met the man he most wanted to see, his roommate Himski. In a few
excited sentences he explained the state of affairs to him, and both
hurried to the hotel. Ralph here learned the number of the room Bollup
was in, and after ordering a closed carriage found Bollup who was in a
very sad condition. Himski and Ralph in the meantime had decided upon a
plan and lost no time. They hustled their insensible classmate into the
carriage and quickly drove to Boucher’s boat house. Here they hired a
rowboat, deposited Bollup in it, and then each took a pair of oars, the
boatman steering, and vigorously pulled around the city front to the
Academy sea-wall.

They hurried Bollup, half supporting him, over the grounds and got into
main quarters and into his room unperceived; undressed him and put him
to bed, finishing this at “warning bell,” five minutes before ten.
Himski and Ralph then rushed to their own room.

“You have certainly saved Bollup from dismissal, Os,” remarked Himski,
after taps inspection had been made. “He would have been reported
absent from quarters to-night, an investigation would have followed and
nothing could have saved him. By the way, you had to take French leave,
didn’t you? I hope you’re not spotted for that, old chap.”

“But I am, Himski; Coleman was on duty at the gate and called to me
as I went through. He’ll report me all right. But I could better take
fifty demerits and restriction than have good old Bollup bilge.”

“Certainly, I would have done the same thing; a man must sacrifice
something for his friends.”

“Look here, Himski,” said Ralph after a pause, “I’ll be reported
to-morrow; now if Bollup knows I’m being punished for helping him he
will immediately report himself to try to have my punishment lightened.
He’ll do that regardless of what it might mean to himself; he’s just
that kind of a fellow. Now he doesn’t know what’s happened, no one
else does; suppose we keep this matter entirely to ourselves; if he
should find out why I’m reported our good work will all go for naught.
Let’s keep mum.”

“You’re right, Os. Poor old Bollup! I hope he’ll take a brace; he’ll be
full of remorse to-morrow.”

The next day Bollup had an aching head and an ashamed soul. He had no
recollection of what had happened after eight o’clock of the night
before. He was then engaging in a mad, reckless frolic with his friends
in their private car. After that things were mixed up and confused,
and his mind was entirely bewildered as to just what had happened. It
seemed to him he had taken a rapid journey, that he had been on the
water, and that his two best friends had been with him. He had not the
faintest recollection of how he had got to his bed, and as his roommate
Streeter was in sick quarters, he had no one to tell him.

The next morning Himski and Ralph greeted him naturally as if nothing
had happened. It was on Bollup’s tongue to ask some questions but he
didn’t know what to ask, and was so full of genuine heartfelt remorse
that he hated to bring the subject up; and so he made no inquiries, and
for many months was in ignorance of just what had been done for him.




CHAPTER XXIV RALPH HAS A JOKE PLAYED ON HIM BY A CANDIDATE


The next day was Sunday, one of those beautiful early spring days for
which Annapolis is justly noted. The trees were coming into full bud,
and soft, balmy airs made one regret there were rules and regulations
to be governed by, when one’s heart longed for the fresh woods. As
usual this Sunday morning was a busy one for Ralph. After breakfast he
had to prepare his room for the commandant’s inspection, and later came
that officer’s inspection of all midshipmen in battalion formation.
And when this had finished the battalion marched to chapel. It must
be admitted that on this morning Ralph Osborn paid but little heed to
the beloved chaplain’s words, or to the singing or prayers. He was
uneasy in mind and feared the scene he knew he had soon to face in the
commandant’s office.

Directly after the service had finished and the midshipmen were
dismissed, Ralph was ordered to report to the commandant’s office.

“Mr. Osborn,” said the commandant, “I have received a report against
you for leaving academic limits without permission. Is this report
correct, sir?”

“Yes, sir,” replied Ralph.

“Then all I can say, sir, is that I am more than astonished. I am
chagrined. We are trying to inculcate in midshipmen’s minds a sense
of duty and responsibility, and here you, a second classman, nearly
a first classman, and to make matters worse, number one man in your
class, deliberately defy the regulations and commit one of the most
serious breaches of discipline. I am chagrined because I had depended
on you as one of the strong men in your class for the good. A man to
lead and influence others. In fact I had bragged about you. You are
helping to make this place a failure, sir; you can have no appreciation
of what the government is doing for you. I am disappointed in you, sir.”

With burning face, but saying nothing, Ralph listened to the
commandant’s scathing reprimand.

“Well, you will be punished, of course. You will receive fifty demerits
and will be restricted to the academic limits until June first.
But your punishment will be more than this. There is no question
whatever but that you would have been next year appointed cadet
lieutenant-commander of the battalion. I am glad we know how utterly
you defy the regulations, disappointed as I am in you. I assure you
that when cadet officers are selected from your class next September
your name will not be considered. That will do, sir.”

Ralph was glad it was over and that he knew the worst. He had
sacrificed more than he had thought about; that the commandant had
already in his mind selected Ralph for the highest cadet office was a
pleasing thought, and he bitterly regretted that Bollup’s conduct had
cost him this; yet not for a minute was he sorry he had saved Bollup,
even at this great sacrifice.

“What did the commandant say?” asked Himski eagerly, when Ralph had
reached his room.

“He knocked me hard,” Ralph replied; “gave me fifty demerits and two
months’ restriction. But look here, Himski, he said I would have been
the next four striper;[9] what do you think of that? But now he has
promised me a clean sleeve.”[10]

“Too bad,” said Himski. “I had spotted you for our next four striper.
But I hope you are not sorry,” he added.

“I’m sorry I had to do it,” replied Ralph, “not sorry that I did it.”

“Of course, that’s the right spirit.”

Ralph’s classmates were much surprised the next day when his name
figured on the conduct report for “Frenching,” and much curiosity was
displayed about the matter. But he refused to discuss it with anybody,
much to Bollup’s astonishment. The latter was much puzzled; in his mind
he connected Ralph’s offense with his own disgraceful conduct and tried
by every means to learn the cause of Ralph’s act, but with no success.

Ralph didn’t mind his restriction. It simply meant that he couldn’t go
out in the town of Annapolis nor call at officers’ houses, and neither
of these deprivations proved much of a punishment. He was able to
attend the baseball games and shell races on Saturday afternoons, and
didn’t mind the restriction a bit.

His great ambition was to stand first in his class, and as each month’s
marks were posted it was certain he would be number one by a large
margin; it now looked likely that for the second class year Bollup
would stand number two, Himski number three, and Creelton number four.

With no untoward incidents this second class year drew to a close.
Studies and examinations had finished, and, as was expected, Ralph led
his class. This gave him much satisfaction which was augmented by the
pleasure his nearest competitors, Bollup and Himski, expressed when the
result became known. Midshipmen were already speculating as to who the
next four striper and other senior cadet officers of the next October
would be: but in all of the lists prepared Ralph’s name had no place.
Though first in his class it was certain he would be a clean sleever.
Sometimes this was a matter of regret to him, but he always put this
thought aside, thinking of the great good he had done Bollup.

Most midshipmen believed that the next four striper would be Bollup or
Himski. Both had high class rank and attractive personalities; but the
appointments of cadet officers would not be made until the completion
of the summer cruise.

It was now the first of June, the beginning of the last week of the
scholastic year. The week was spent in drills before the Annual Board
of Visitors, and all the Academy was on exhibition.

On the first of the week, Mr. Thomas G. Short, of New York, Saratoga
and other places, arrived at Annapolis. His coming was very
unostentatious; he signed the hotel register as Goodwin and then went
to his room. He avoided all other guests, had his meals served in his
room, and was not recognized by anybody. At about eight o’clock of this
Monday evening, Creelton, who had evidently been apprised of Short’s
coming, was admitted into the latter’s room. An effusive greeting
occurred, and enthusiastic references were made of incidents that
happened the previous September when Creelton had been Short’s guest on
a yachting trip.

“We’ll have the same trip again this next September, old boy,” said
Short.

“Bully,” cried Creelton in delight; “I had a glorious time last
September. You’re awfully good to me, Short. Hello, what have you got
a midshipman’s uniform on for?”

Short had thrown off his outer garments and quickly drew on a pair of
dark navy blue trousers, and then put on a jacket.

“I had these made at Wright and Duvel’s, on Broadway; they fit me
pretty well, don’t they?” Short now tried on a cap, and then put it on
his trunk, and put on a pair of white lisle thread gloves.

“I should say so,” ejaculated Creelton in great surprise. “But how in
the world can you have any use for midshipmen’s clothes, Tom?”

“Oh, I just thought I’d have a little fun, that’s all. I’m going to
walk around in the dark and imagine I’m a midshipman. Bill, suppose you
try on this cit’s suit; I want to see how it will fit you.”

“What for?”

“Oh, just for fun. It won’t hurt you just to try it on.”

Creelton was very curious as to what Short was up to, but feeling no
harm could result from his trying on this suit of clothes he threw off
his uniform, and was soon in the suit Short had handed him.

“What a beautiful suit of clothes,” he exclaimed. “The cloth is grand.
And, Short, it fits me just as if it had been made for me; it’s a
perfect fit.” And Creelton turned round and round in front of the
glass, casting delighted eyes at his own image in the mirror.

“It ought to be,” said Short. “I had your measure, you know, and
ordered that suit made to fit you. I gave Wright and Duvel sixty
dollars for it.”

“Short, this is lovely of you. I’ll have a lot of fun inside of this
suit next September.”

“Try on this neck scarf,” said Short, handing Creelton a gorgeous
four-in-hand tie. The latter eagerly put it on, spending some time in
adjusting it. Then Short handed Creelton a hat which fitted him nicely,
and then, to his great surprise, stood in front of him and working
quickly, affixed to Creelton’s upper lip and chin a thick mustache
and goatee. With a pair of heavy gold-rimmed spectacles, Creelton’s
disguise was indeed complete.

The latter uttered exclamations of delight as he surveyed himself in
the glass. “Why, Short,” he exclaimed, “I wouldn’t be afraid to walk
right before the commandant in this get up; no one would ever know me.
I’d just as lief go anywhere. What fun it would be!”

“Come on then,” said Short. Grabbing the midshipman’s cap from his open
trunk he threw open the door, and in a moment both young men were in
the hotel corridor and soon in the street.

“What a lark,” laughed Creelton, hugely enjoying himself. “Where shall
we go, Tom?”

“Anywhere, I don’t care. Who are those midshipmen coming along, ahead
of us?”

“It’s too dark to see; they’re evidently out for a saunter.”

“I’ll turn my head as they pass. I don’t care to take any chances of
being recognized,” remarked Short, doing so as the two midshipmen
passed them.

“Did you see who they were?” asked Creelton impressively.

“No. Why, do I know them?”

“They were your particular friends, Osborn and Bollup. They looked
right at me, and didn’t know me from Adam.” And Creelton chuckled.

“Let’s see where they go,” said Short, and turning around they followed
slowly after Ralph and Bollup.

It was Ralph’s first day of freedom, for that morning his two months of
restriction had been completed; and in the evening having liberty, he
and Bollup wandered about the streets of the ancient city.

“I wonder who that swell is,” remarked Ralph, as Creelton and Short
passed them.

“I never saw him before; probably some out-of-town stranger here for
June week.”

“Who was the midshipman with him, did you notice?”

“No; I was too busy looking at the swell.”

They now lazily turned into the grounds about the state capitol
building, and soon sat down on an iron bench and talked about the
coming cruise, and the delightful September leave that was to follow,
which Ralph was to spend at Hampden Grove.

Some distance away Creelton and Short were observing them. Then Short
said: “Bill, I want a little fun. When I once thought I was going to
spend four years in this uniform I conjured up lots of fun in thinking
how I might haze plebes after I had been made a third classman. Now you
fellows sometimes run candidates a little, don’t you?”

“You bet we do, and the candidates like it.”

“Well, can’t you steer me against some candidate who I can have a
little fun with?”

“Yes, indeed. I know one who’d rather be hazed than have a dish of ice
cream. He’ll do anything anybody who has a uniform on tells him to do.”

“Good; he’ll think I’m a midshipman in this rig. Is he apt to be far
from here?”

“No, we passed him on Maryland Avenue; he was in a bookstore looking at
some magazines.”

“All right, let’s go and fix him. I’m out for fun to-night.”

Fifteen or twenty minutes later three young men entered the capitol
grounds. One was in midshipman uniform, one was stylishly dressed,
wore spectacles, mustache and goatee. The third was of a class that
swarms into Annapolis at certain times of the year, in other words a
candidate.

“That’s the fellow,” said the young man in uniform to the candidate;
“he’s on the bench over there; there are two of them. I want you to
play the joke on the one nearest this end; do you see who I mean?”

“Yes, sir, I’ve seen him before; he’s number one man in the second
class, sir.”

“That’s right. Now you know just what to say and what to do?”

“Indeed I do, sir, and I promise you I’ll do my part in the joke.”

“All right, it’s just a joke; he played one on me and I want to get
even with him. He’ll laugh over it just as much as you do, but if you
do it right I’ll be the best friend you ever had at the Naval Academy
after you get in. What is your name?”

“Frank Chappell, sir. I’ll play this joke well, depend upon me, sir.”

“All right, go ahead; we’ll be with you in a few minutes and join in
the laugh and I’ll explain I was running you; that will make it all
right with the man you play the joke on.”

“Yes, sir; you just watch me and see how well I play it.”

Ralph and Bollup still sat on the iron bench in the state capitol
grounds lazily talking over the three years that had passed. Both were
about to become first classmen, the great goal of all midshipmen, and
they were correspondingly elated.

“Os, you’ve never told me why you Frenched that night two months ago.
Why did you do it old man? You had four stripes cinched up to then, but
I’m afraid that spot has killed your chances for anything. Something
happened to me that day which would have killed my chances had it
become known, but I was luckier than you were. Why did you French, Os?”

Before Ralph had a chance to reply, they were rudely interrupted by
an utter stranger, a young man of slender build, about eighteen or
nineteen years old, suddenly sitting down on the bench between the two,
crowding Ralph over to one side. “You don’t own all of this bench, do
you?” he asked Ralph in insolent tones.

Ralph jumped up, angry clear through.

“What do you mean,” he cried, “and who are you?”

“I’m a candidate, old boy,” replied the youth, “and you’re a
midshipman. You’ll be standing me on my head in a couple of weeks but
you can’t do it now.” With that he deliberately put out his hand and
pinched Ralph’s leg so hard that it really hurt him.

Ralph now lost his temper completely and drew back his fist to strike
the insolent candidate, but it went against his grain to strike a man
sitting down; and instead he passionately cried: “Get on your head, you
bag of cheek; I’ll teach you a thing or two before you’re much older.”

The candidate was on his head in a flash and stayed there till Ralph
ordered him to his feet. In the meantime Bollup had watched this
episode with much surprise; as the candidate regained his feet Bollup
sprang to his and seizing Ralph’s arm said: “Come along,” and Ralph
went with him. He was still very indignant.

“I wish I had punched his face,” he grumbled to Bollup; “he needed it.”

“You can’t afford such luxuries, Os,” remarked the other. “I’m sorry
you put the man on his head.” They now walked toward the Academy both
very quiet and Ralph ill at ease. This was actually the only time he
had ever hazed anybody and he began to repent having given way to his
anger.

That night he told the whole occurrence to Himski. The latter first
asked many questions, and then relapsed into deep thoughtfulness.

Two days later after dinner, while Ralph was in his room, the
midshipman officer of the day flung open the door, and called out in a
loud tone: “Osborn, report to the superintendent immediately.”

“I wonder what for?” said Ralph uneasily to Himski. The latter made no
comment and Ralph left the room with a sickening feeling. He saw Bollup
was ahead of him, bound in the same direction.

FOOTNOTES:

[9] Cadet rank is indicated by stripes on the sleeve.

[10] Indicates a first classman without cadet rank.




CHAPTER XXV RALPH COURT-MARTIALED FOR HAZING


The superintendent, who was writing at his desk, looked up as Ralph and
Bollup were brought into his office by the marine orderly.

“I am Midshipman Osborn; I have been directed to report to you, sir,”
said Ralph.

“I am Midshipman Bollup,” announced the other.

The superintendent looked keenly at them under his bushy eyebrows, and
then said: “I shall read you a letter I received this morning from the
Secretary of the Navy.”

  “The Navy Department is just in receipt of a letter from Annapolis
  signed by Harry Bucknell, stating that on Monday night, June first,
  Midshipman Osborn, of the second class, in the presence of his
  classmate, Midshipman Thomas L. Bollup, hazed a candidate for the
  Naval Academy named Frank Chappell. You will investigate immediately
  and report by telephone. If this report is borne out by your
  investigation, a general court martial will be instantly convened for
  the trial of the guilty parties.”

“What have you to say, Mr. Osborn?” demanded the superintendent looking
up.

The blood seemed to congeal in Ralph’s veins. His breath came quickly,
and overwhelming despair entered his heart. This, then, was the end;
his work, his success, his ambitions, his hopes were all for naught,
all hopelessly destroyed by a moment of thoughtless folly. He was
undeniably guilty of the charge, and a law of Congress required that a
midshipman found guilty by court martial of hazing should be dismissed
from the Naval Academy.

“What have you to say, Mr. Osborn?” again demanded the superintendent
sharply.

Ralph did not, could not reply. He was bereft of speech. A look of
appealing helplessness, the expression of a man who has lost his all,
was in his face.

“What have you to say, Mr. Bollup?” asked the superintendent.

“Nothing, sir,” replied Bollup, with troubled expression.

“Did you see Mr. Osborn haze a candidate last Monday night?”

“Must I answer that question, sir?”

“You must, unless your answer would tend to incriminate you.”

“Then I decline to answer, sir.”

“On what ground, sir? No charges are made against you.”

“Charges may develop against me, sir; I decline to answer on the ground
that I might incriminate myself.”

“Very well, you are within your rights; now----”

“Sorr,” interrupted the marine orderly, entering and saluting, “a young
gintleman, name o’ Chappell, is here to see the superintindint.”

“Show him in.”

In hopeless despair Ralph recognized the young man who entered as the
one he had hazed.

“Are you Mr. Frank Chappell, a candidate?” demanded the superintendent.

“Yes, sir; I was told you wished to see me.” Chappell glanced uneasily
at Ralph.

“Do you know who this midshipman is?” inquired the superintendent,
indicating Ralph.

“He has been pointed out to me as number one man in the second class,
sir.”

“Do you know his name?”

“I have heard it was Osborn, sir.”

“When did you last see him?”

“I caught a glimpse of him the other evening, sir,” replied Chappell in
a hesitating way.

“Be very careful in your answers, Mr. Chappell; no candidate is ever
admitted as a midshipman whose truthfulness is questioned.”

Mr. Chappell fidgeted nervously, twirling his hat in his hand.

“Did Mr. Osborn stand you on your head Monday night, last?”

“It was just a joke, sir; I met another midshipman a few minutes before
who----”

“Never mind about the other midshipman; answer the question.”

“It was only a joke, sir; the other midshipman----”

“Never mind the other midshipman; answer my question,” thundered the
superintendent.

In a helpless, reluctant way Mr. Chappell replied: “Yes, sir, but I
provoked it.”

“That will do, sir. Mr. Osborn, you are under arrest awaiting trial by
general court martial. I shall immediately prefer charges by telephone.
Return to your quarters and report to the commandant.”

Poor Ralph! Well might he be pitied. He returned to his room stunned
with his misfortune. He threw himself on his bed, face to the wall, and
lay there dazed. All was over except the public announcement of his
dismissal. He lay there for hours, in helpless, hopeless grief, almost
in a stupor. The hopes and ambition of his life were killed, and stony
despair entered his heart. Not for him was the glorious day outside,
nor the companionship of midshipmen, happy that the end of the year had
come. The pretty girls that wandered here and there through Lover’s
Lane and the shady walks had no interest for the heart-sick youth whose
hopes in life were suddenly destroyed.

Himski learned of all the circumstances from Bollup, and that sagacious
youth learned of further facts from Mr. Chappell. He went to see the
commandant and vainly endeavored to represent his roommate, guilty
technically though perhaps he was, in reality the victim of the plot of
a wicked person. But he was utterly refused permission to discuss the
matter. Getting desperate he grew importunate and made several attempts
to see the superintendent, taking Mr. Chappell with him; and finally he
was reported by the superintendent for disobedience of orders because
of his persistence.

Late the next morning, Ralph received a copy of the charges and
specifications on which he was to be tried and was told to be in
readiness for trial in twenty-four hours. He received these orders
without comment, but with mute hopelessness.

“Os, for heaven’s sake get a counsel,” implored Himski. “Brace up, man,
don’t lie down in this way; have some spirit in you, show a little
fight.”

“It’s no use, Himski; I’m guilty and beyond help. I have no defense to
make; I have no occasion for a counsel. There’s nothing for me to do
except to take what’s coming to me.”

“I’ll swear you didn’t do it, Os,” cried Bollup, impulsively, “and
we’ll fix up young Chappell; he’ll swear the same thing; he’s a well
meaning young fellow and feels dreadfully.”

“You’ll do nothing of the kind, Bollup,” indignantly exclaimed Ralph;
“you’re not aware of what you’re saying. You must have a contemptible
opinion of me if you think I’d allow such a thing as that. I’m in
tough luck but I want no friend of mine to think I’m low down.”

“I’m all broken up, Os,” said Bollup huskily; “I feel I’d do anything
to serve you, even to telling an untruth.”

“You’d lie to save me, old man,” replied Ralph, much affected, pressing
Bollup’s hand, “but you’d die before you’d lie to save yourself. No,
there’s no use; I’m up against it. But I’d like to know what part
Creelton had in this, and who the midshipman was that put Mr. Chappell
up to this job. It was Short, of course, who planned it. But who was
the man with whiskers, and who was the midshipman? By George, Bollup,
we passed them ourselves.”

“Yes, what a pity we didn’t notice who the midshipman was.”

“I pointed out Creelton to Mr. Chappell this afternoon, and Chappell is
positive it wasn’t Creelton.”

And so they talked, Bollup commiserating with Ralph, and going over the
same ground over and over again.

       *       *       *       *       *

The court met at one o’clock the next day. Five lieutenant-commanders
and four lieutenants, all officers on duty at Annapolis, impressive
in their brass buttoned frock coats and swords, with stern demeanor
gathered around a long table. A few minutes after they had assembled
Ralph was brought in before them. His heart sank as he glanced at the
faces about him; he knew no other verdict than that of guilty would be
forthcoming.

“Do you desire counsel?” he was asked by Lieutenant Colton, who was the
judge-advocate of the court and as such the prosecuting officer.

“Yes, sir; I would ask for Midshipman Himskihumskonski.”

“Mr.--ahem, Mr.--would you mind writing that name down; it’s altogether
too much for me, and I must have it correct for the record.”

The sedate members of the court smiled as Lieutenant Colton struggled
with the long name.

Himski soon came in and took his place. Ralph had not intended to ask
for counsel but his roommate had insisted, and so Ralph asked for him.

“Do you object to any member present?” demanded Lieutenant Colton.

“I do not,” replied Ralph.

Oaths were now administered to the judge-advocate and to the members;
other necessary formalities were gone through with, and soon the trial
commenced in earnest.

“I’ll read the charge and specification,” announced Lieutenant Colton.

  “_Charge_:

  “Hazing, in violation of the laws of Congress and the articles for
  the government of the Navy.

  “_Specification_:

  “In that the said Ralph Osborn, a midshipman of the second class in
  the Navy, attached to and serving at the Naval Academy at Annapolis,
  did on or about eight hours post meridian of the first day of June,
  eighteen hundred and ninety ---- haze a citizen, Frank Chappell by
  name, by ordering and compelling the aforesaid Chappell, at the time
  in the state capitol grounds, in Annapolis, Maryland, to stand upon
  his head.”

“Midshipman Ralph Osborn,” continued Lieutenant Colton, “you have heard
the charge and specification of charge preferred against you; how say
you to the specification of the charge, guilty or not guilty?”

Ralph made no reply.

“How say you to the charge, guilty or not guilty?”

Ralph maintained his silence, and after a moment’s delay Lieutenant
Colton announced: “The accused stands mute.”

“Proceed,” ordered the court’s president.

The first witness for the prosecution, and evidently a reluctant one,
was young Chappell. He was asked direct questions by Lieutenant Colton,
and in vain did Mr. Chappell try to tell of his previous meeting
with an unknown midshipman who was accompanied by a be-whiskered and
spectacled civilian. He was ruthlessly prevented from referring in
any way to what had occurred with the unknown midshipman before Ralph
had hazed him. In the cross-examination Himski in vain endeavored to
bring out the fact that he had been acting under the order of another
midshipman.

“Why did you sit down between the accused and Midshipman Bollup?” he
asked.

“To play a joke, sir,” Mr. Chappell replied. “The other midshipman told
me----”

“I object,” snapped out Lieutenant Colton. “I object to bring in any
case of hazing except the one here being tried. The court is here to
try Midshipman Osborn on a specific charge, not an unknown midshipman
who was not present when this offense occurred, and against whom no
charges have been made. If the witness has any charges to prefer
against any other midshipman let him do so at the proper place, but not
before this court, or incidentally in his testimony.”

The court took this view and Mr. Chappell was admonished to confine his
testimony to Ralph’s actions. Twist and turn as Himski tried he was
completely prevented from bringing out any testimony whatever regarding
the unknown midshipman. The most he developed was that Chappell had
deliberately and intentionally provoked Ralph. But the fact was
nevertheless brought out in damning clearness that Ralph had stood Mr.
Chappell on his head.

Bollup was the next witness and a most unwilling one, and thus doubly
injurious to Ralph. He laid great stress on Ralph’s provocation but had
to testify that Ralph had hazed Mr. Chappell. The prosecution had but
these two witnesses to call and then rested.

Himski then recalled Mr. Chappell to the stand as a witness for the
defense and was so persistent in endeavoring to bring in testimony
showing that Mr. Chappell was acting under an unknown midshipman’s
orders that finally he was severely admonished by the court to abide by
its rulings.

“May it please the court,” said Himski, rising to his feet, and
borrowing the verbiage of the judge-advocate, “I am prepared to prove
that the action of the accused was not, in reality or fairness, hazing.
I ask for but a chance to prove that Mr. Chappell was but a tool in
the hands of a most vicious person, and if the court does not grant
me this permission I can but say that it also is but a tool in the
consummation of a wicked crime against Midshipman Osborn; I will prove
that Mr. Chappell was acting under orders, and thinking it but a joke,
deliberately incited and provoked this so-called hazing. Mr. Osborn
was, in fact, the injured, the assaulted party; and I can prove by
the commandant of midshipmen that Mr. Osborn has been the victim of a
relentless enmity that for three years has pursued him with plots so
nefarious as to be almost inconceivable.”

“May it please the court,” said Lieutenant Colton, in sonorous tones,
“this court is not ordered to investigate the Naval Academy nor to go
into Mr. Osborn’s past troubles, nor to inquire into anything except
a certain specified act. I most strenuously object to the accused’s
counsel bringing into this case any irrelevant matter whatever. The
Naval Academy is not on trial, nor is any midshipman except Mr. Osborn.
The question before this court is not whether Mr. Osborn is the
victim of one plot or a series of plots, not whether he has enemies
or has received injuries from them. Nor are his motives on trial. The
question before this court is a very simple one; it is to determine
whether or no Mr. Osborn stood Mr. Chappell on his head. There is no
other question. Nor is this court a proper place for Mr. Osborn to lay
his grievances. We may be sure of one thing, gentlemen of the court,
and that is that there is a proper place for Mr. Osborn to lay his
grievances and to ask for protection, and we may be sure, gentlemen
of the court, that full protection and justice will be accorded Mr.
Osborn by the authorities. But I most earnestly protest against the
introduction of the irrelevant testimony that counsel for the accused
is so persistent in trying to inject into this case.”

Everybody was sent out of the room while the members deliberated over
this point. In a few minutes Ralph, Himski, Lieutenant Colton and Mr.
Chappell were all recalled.

“Mr. Him--ah, counsel for the accused, the objection of the
judge-advocate is sustained. You will confine yourself entirely to the
matter of the specification.”

Himski was thunderstruck and dismayed. His one hope was now destroyed.
He had expected to get the whole story of that Monday night’s
events, believing that if the entire circumstance were known a court
of just men would not convict his friend. But it now seemed as if
the judge-advocate and the court were actually in league with the
villainous Short.

“There’s no use, Os,” he said sorrowfully. “I can’t understand the
influence that is working against us.”

Ralph, pale and interested in what had gone on, albeit hopeless though
he had been through it all, smiled wanly, and said: “Don’t take it too
hard, old fellow. But I thank God he has given me such a friend as you
are to me.”

There was an influence working against Ralph though neither he nor
Himski knew what it was. At this time of the year the Academy was
on exhibition before the whole country, it being “June week,” and
every day columns were published in the newspapers. Hazing troubles
at Annapolis have always been as greatly exaggerated as they have
been widely advertised; and this graduating time was the worst time
imaginable for a hazing scandal. If hazing had been going on the
authorities preferred to know nothing about it; it would work to the
great harm of the famous school, and it was feared that the testimony
given in Ralph’s trial might lead to many other trials and consequent
newspaper scandal. So the court confined itself entirely to the case on
trial and excluded, as was its clear right, all outside testimony.

And so Himski failed completely in having any testimony given by Mr.
Chappell concerning his encounter with the midshipman and civilian
previous to the time Ralph had hazed him.

The trial did not last very late in the afternoon, as Bollup and Mr.
Chappell were the only witnesses that appeared before it.

That night in their room Himski for the first time was utterly dejected.

“The injustice of it!” he cried. “Oh, Os, my very heart and soul rebel!”

Ralph, sad and hopeless though he was, now tried to cheer up his
friend; neither had the faintest hope for any other verdict than
guilty, and Ralph tried to form some plans for the future. “I’ll go
back to Toledo,” he said. “It’s an awful blow, my dismissal; there’s
only one comfort in it all, no dishonor is attached to my name.”

“No, Os, nothing but good-will and affection from midshipmen and the
respect of officers. But this will hurt Captain Waddell; he took such a
keen interest in you.”

“Captain Waddell!” exclaimed Ralph. “I hadn’t thought of him. He told
me to write to him if I ever needed a friend. Here, Himski, let me
have paper and ink; and find his address for me, will you?”

“He’s in command of the receiving ship at the New York Navy Yard,” said
Himski. “I happened to run across that fact the other day.”

“Good. He can’t help me--I’m beyond all help, but I’ll write him about
everything that has happened to me since I left the _Puritan_.”

Ralph wrote a long letter and poured out his heart to Captain Waddell
as he might have to a father. And somehow, when he had posted the
letter, he felt easier in mind. Bitter though he was, yet he accepted
the inevitable, and that night as he tossed about on his sleepless bed
he formed resolutions as to what his future life in Toledo was to be.
He felt that as he had done nothing dishonest he would face the people
he had known all his life, rather than by going to some other place,
tacitly admit he had done something to be ashamed of. “That’s where
Uncle George made his great mistake,” he thought. “Uncle George,” he
mused; “I wonder if I shall ever see him and know him.” And with this
thought in his mind he dropped into uneasy slumber.




CHAPTER XXVI RALPH IS DISMISSED BY SENTENCE OF GENERAL COURT MARTIAL


Friday, graduation day, dawned beautifully. The sun’s rays that beamed
through the midshipmen’s rooms and that glanced merrily up from the
sparkling ripples of the water of Chesapeake Bay seemingly danced their
congratulations to the hundreds of happy midshipmen, some of whom were
to be graduated that morning; and all of the rest were happy or more
correctly, all but one sad hearted young man, because they were to be
promoted to a higher class.

At six o’clock the morning gun boomed its reverberating roar, shaking
window panes for miles, its echoes dying in the far distance. And
immediately in midshipmen quarters were to be heard the hoarse
notes of the reveille bugle blasting the last moment of slumber of
several hundred midshipmen. And then the Academy awakened from quiet
restfulness to uneasy, restless, impatient activity.

“Turn out on this floor, turn out, turn out,” were calls that resounded
all over the building, and midshipmen of the day’s duty ran from room
to room, shouting their cries of, “Turn out,” and throwing open the
doors of rooms to see the occupants therein were out and their bedding
thrown back. Half an hour later came the bugle call for breakfast
formation, the signal for midshipmen to fall in ranks. Some, waiting
for the call, went leisurely to their appointed places. In the last
few seconds of the five minutes allowed before the roll-call, scores
of midshipmen, anxious to avoid demerits for being “late at morning
roll,” ran at breakneck speed trying to beat time, to their respective
companies. Then came the final blast of the bugle, and where but a
second before noise, confusion and disorder reigned, now a body of
several hundred young men, in two unwavering ranks, stood silent, quiet
and in complete order. And now came the muster of each company; one
heard the stentorian shouts of the cadet lieutenants, the last time
each was to officiate as such.

“Third company, left dress! Back in the center, carry it along, up a
little on the extreme right! Steady, front!”

Soon the adjutant had reported: “Sir, the battalion is formed.”

“Publish the orders, sir,” directed the cadet lieutenant-commander.

“Attention to orders,” rang out the clear, vibrating voice of the
adjutant, and unfolding a paper he carried in his hand, he read as
follows:

  “_Navy Department, Washington, D. C._,

  “_June 4_,.

  “SIR:--

  “You are informed that the court before which you were recently on
  trial found you guilty of hazing and sentenced you to dismissal
  from the Naval Academy and the naval service. This sentence has
  been approved. You are therefore dismissed from the naval service.
  A formal copy of the court martial order in your case is hereby
  enclosed.

  “Very respectfully,

  “HENRY BROWN,

  “_Rear Admiral, and Acting Secretary of the Navy_.

  “MR. RALPH OSBORN,

  “_Late midshipman, second class_.”

Well, it was all over. There was nothing more to be said or done. Poor
Ralph! There was a lump in his throat and an utter forlorn sadness in
his heart. He was thus rudely torn from the dearest ambition he had
ever had; and until this moment he had not known how dear this ambition
was. And he was to give up an association with beloved comrades, and to
enter fields in which they had no place.

Yes, it was all over; and Ralph thought bitterly of how he had finally
reached the summit of his ambition, to lead his class, only to be
completely overthrown and have all of his hopes wrecked. “This is the
day the midshipmen get out of the wilderness,” he thought sadly, “but I
never expected to get out in this way.”

After breakfast his classmates crowded around him and expressed their
sympathy, and many others of all classes came to him with kind words;
for Ralph’s frank, kindly nature had made countless friends for him and
they left him saying, “Poor Osborn, it’s such hard luck; he’s such a
fine fellow,” and like expressions.

The preparations for the great day went busily and merrily on, and
Ralph was forgotten for the time. But not by all, for three classmates,
Himski, Bollup and Streeter, remained with him, and he felt their
warm sympathy. They said but little; their hearts were too full for
ordinary talk, but with saddened, deadened spirits, they helped Ralph
pack his trunk and get his effects ready to be sent out. Finally they
had to leave to put on their full dress uniforms for the graduating
ceremonies, and Ralph was left alone. He was dressed in civilian
clothes and was looking at his unfamiliar appearance in the mirror when
he heard his door thrown open and a voice say: “This is Mr. Osborn’s
room, sir.”

He turned around and saw the white gloved officer of the day usher into
his room a gentleman of perhaps fifty years old, gray in beard, red in
face, with bushy hair inclined to curl, and kindly blue eyes.

“Why, Captain Waddell!” he cried, at once recognizing his visitor.

“Ralph, my dear boy,” said the captain, “I only received your letter
yesterday and I took the midnight train last night.” And he shook hands
warmly with the young man.

“Why, captain, did you come down to see me, to help me in my trouble?”

“Indeed I did, Ralph, but I don’t like the looks of your civilian
clothes; what does it mean?”

Ralph silently handed the captain the acting secretary’s order
dismissing him, and the court martial order of his trial.

“Bad, bad,” ejaculated the captain; “how did you happen to do it,
Ralph?”

Ralph rapidly related how he had been provoked by Mr. Chappell and how
he had lost his temper and had stood Mr. Chappell on his head.

“Who is Mr. Chappell, Ralph?”

“A candidate, sir; he comes up for his entrance examination next week.”

“And where did this hazing occur?”

“In Annapolis, in the state capital grounds, sir.”

Captain Waddell read the court martial order over again, and then
opened his eyes wide, and seemed lost in thought. Then turning to Ralph
he said quietly: “What I am saying to you now is in the most absolute
confidence; you must promise me you will not talk to any one about what
I am going to tell you.”

“Yes, sir,” said Ralph, wondering what could be so confidential
between an officer of such high rank and himself.

“Ralph, I was assistant in the judge-advocate general’s office for
three years and made a deep study of all naval law. I refused the
appointment of judge-advocate general, preferring to go to sea. Without
undue conceit, judging by the questions that now are occasionally
referred to me by the Navy Department, and by the demands continually
made upon me by the Naval War College, I judge I am considered an
authority on legal questions as they affect the Navy.”

“Yes, sir,” said Ralph, for want of anything better to say.

“Well then. The charges made against you were entirely illegal and
never should have been made. The court that tried you were in complete
error in finding you guilty; the sentence is ridiculous, and the
judge-advocate general made a great mistake in not discovering it.
You are just as much a midshipman as you ever were, and I promise you
before long you’ll be back in that uniform of yours.” And Captain
Waddell thumped the table savagely.

“Captain, captain, what are you saying, what do you mean?” cried
Ralph in excitement. “Why is it illegal? Do you mean I may hope for
reinstatement?”

“Hope?” said Captain Waddell. “Ralph, I tell you your dismissal is
utterly illegal and I shall have no trouble whatever in having that
court martial and all that pertains to it declared void.”

This was too much for the lad who had nobly borne up in his grief; he
was not prepared for the joy that now overwhelmed him, and he broke
down completely with sobbing happiness. Captain Waddell, grim visaged
veteran that he was, became affected by Ralph’s emotion. Ralph never
thought of questioning the captain’s statement; it entered into his
heart naturally that his friend knew exactly what he was talking about
and Ralph had entire belief in his words.

“Now, Ralph,” said the captain, “I’m not going to tell you anything
more, nor why your sentence is illegal and won’t stand. I’ve told you
this much to dispel the woe that had enthralled your soul. You’ll go
to Washington with me this afternoon and we’ll find a boarding-place
for you till this matter is settled. I don’t want that friend of yours,
Short, to know where you are nor what you’re doing. You tell me he’s a
millionaire or supposed to be. It may take six weeks or two months to
get the decision reinstating you, and I don’t wish anybody to have any
idea of what you or I are doing.”

Ralph’s face fell. “I haven’t enough money to pay my board for six
weeks, captain,” he faltered; “I have barely enough to pay my railway
fare to Toledo.”

“I saw your Uncle George yesterday,” said Captain Waddell, “and showed
him your letter. He is much disturbed about you and gave me two hundred
dollars to give to you. Here it is. This is a large amount of money to
your uncle, but he is a very generous good man. When you get restored
you will receive back pay and can return it to him.”

“My Uncle George!” exclaimed Ralph. “Am I never to see or know this
good uncle? Can I not go to New York to see him, captain?”

Ralph’s heart overflowed with love for this dear uncle whom he had
never known, and whose helpful affection was flowing into the channel
of his own life.

“Won’t you tell me about my Uncle George, Captain Waddell? Can’t I
see him? Now that my dear father is dead Uncle George is my nearest
relation. Why don’t I know him better? Why do I hear from him so
seldom?”

“All in good time, Ralph. Your uncle is a splendid man; he has my
entire respect. But he left for England this morning to be gone several
months. You may write to him care of my address; his own is uncertain.
But I promise you one thing, your Uncle George and I will be here a
year from now to see you graduate at the head of your class.”

With that Ralph had to be satisfied, for Captain Waddell did not seem
disposed to talk any more about the young man’s uncle.

“Now, Ralph, be at the train at four o’clock. I’m stopping with the
superintendent and am to be present at the graduation ceremonies. I
want you to write out for me a complete history of what you know of
that Short and of all of these mishappenings that have occurred to
you at different times, and write a full and complete account of that
alleged hazing. At Washington I will get a copy of the record of the
proceedings of your court. Good-bye; I’ll see you at four o’clock.”

After Captain Waddell had departed Ralph wondered why his court martial
and his dismissal were illegal; he had not the slightest notion and
soon dismissed that puzzle from his mind, but he had not the faintest
doubt of what the captain had told him.

So he danced about the room in a state of happy exhilaration, attending
to sending his luggage off, and then he went to the Maryland Hotel
where he wrote the account asked for by Captain Waddell and a letter
eloquent with love and affection to his Uncle George; he then had a
late lunch and afterward went to the Maryland Avenue gate where he had
agreed to meet Himski and Bollup and Streeter at three o’clock, to
exchange good-byes. Sympathizing deeply with Ralph in his trouble, it
was natural that they should be sorrowful and totally unprepared for
the rush of happy enthusiastic spirits which Ralph poured over them.

He laughed and rallied them merrily because of their woebegone demeanor.

“What’s the matter with you three chaps?” he cried, as he gave them
each a hug. “You look as if you’d been to a funeral instead of a
graduation.”

Bollup stared at him in amazement, then got close to Ralph’s mouth with
his own nose and sniffed audibly three times. This was too much for
Ralph. He burst into peal after peal of laughter; then he drew their
heads together and breathed into their faces and said: “There’s nothing
there but Maryland Hotel grub. I know what you think, Bollup, but I’ve
never taken a drink in my life; but I was never so happy, never so
happy.”

There was no doubt that Ralph’s good spirits were perfectly natural and
unaffected, and being so they were infectious and soon Himski, Bollup
and Streeter bubbled over with happiness and nonsense.

These comrades loved each other, and seeing Ralph so wildly happy the
gloom that had so enveloped them was as quickly and as completely
dispelled as a northwest wind lifts a thick fog from the Maine coast.

They escorted Ralph to the railway station and good-byes and mutual
promises to write were exchanged, and thus Ralph left Annapolis.

And then the amazement returned to the three friends. “What can have
happened to Os?” wondered Himski in deep thoughtfulness. “He’s as happy
as if he had been reinstated.”

“It’s something big,” remarked Bollup, “and we couldn’t get him to say
a word about it; but I’m feeling much better, aren’t you, Himski?”

“You bet I am, and I’ve a queer happy feeling that we’re going to have
old Os back with us, and that he knows it.”




CHAPTER XXVII HIMSKI AND COMPANY ARE JOYFULLY ASTONISHED


Nine weeks had passed since the occurrence of the episode related in
the last chapter. That graduation day which had made Ralph Osborn’s
classmates first classmen, and had seen himself dismissed from the
Naval Academy was now a thing long passed and was of no further
interest. It is the uncertainty of the immediate future that dominates
our thoughts and actions, not the pleasant recollections of a recent
past. In moments of relaxation we reminisce and talk of those grand
old days of the beautiful long ago, not so much of what happened six
months ago. And Bollup and I, and you and Himski, all veteran officers,
laugh and talk over those exciting incidents of our midshipman days.
They always remain fresh in memory, and the beautiful friendships there
formed grow more precious each year.

But it is not only older officers that reminisce; midshipmen as well
are great at that, only their “long ago” commences when they were
fourth classmen.

“Way back in ninety ----, when I was a youngster,” commenced Bollup,
and then he was surprised at an amused laugh from Himski. “What’s the
matter, Himski?” he asked his comrade.

“Oh, I was laughing at that ‘way back’ of yours, seeing it was but two
years ago when you were on your youngster cruise. But go on, Bol, spin
us your yarn; what happened in that ‘way back’ time of only two years
ago?”

“Oh, nothing special, but I was just thinking of what good times we
used to have with good old Os; and isn’t it strange we never hear from
him? He was so happy that last time we saw him, one could not have
believed he had just been dismissed. Have you any idea what his address
is, Himski?”

“Not the slightest, but I’m sure Os will write. He had something up his
sleeve and I’ve imagined he has been waiting for it to materialize.
Well, our first class cruise is nearly over; it’s been a fine cruise
and I’ve only one regret about it and that is that Os isn’t with us.
Here it is nearly the middle of August and next week we start for
Annapolis; and two weeks from now we’ll commence our September leave.”

These young men were reminiscing on their “long ago.” They were making
their first class practice cruise aboard the battle-ship _Texas_ which
was now swinging around her anchor at the mouth of the Thames River,
below New London.

It was late Saturday afternoon and the midshipmen, having finished
supper, were idling on the starboard side of the deck, near the
starboard twelve-inch gun.

“Who went on liberty to-day?” asked Bollup.

“Billy Bacon, Smith, M., Warren, Taylor and quite a lot of others; why?”

“I guess New London isn’t so attractive as it was when we first
anchored here. There’s some midshipman coming back in a shore boat;
don’t you see that little rowboat pulling over to the ship? There’s a
midshipman in blue service uniform in the stern sheets.”

“You’re right, Bol; but I imagine it isn’t a matter of the town being
less attractive; probably the midshipman is broke.”

“If he were broke he wouldn’t be hiring a shore boat, would he?”
inquired Bollup with convincing disdain. “I tell you the girls of New
London aren’t what they used to be. Why, when we were youngsters there
was the daisiest set of girls here I ever knew.”

The small boat drew near the gangway. In an idle way Himski, shading
his eyes from the setting sun, and only half interested, looked at the
small boat and its occupants.

Of a sudden he straightened up, and then breathlessly cried out: “Look,
Bol, look! Why man, it’s Os; he’s come back to us.” And forgetting
their dignified rank as first classmen Himski and Bollup uttered wild
whoops of joy and ran to the quarter-deck like madmen.

Ralph paid the boatman a quarter and then walked up the gangway to the
quarter-deck to report.

The officer of the deck happened to be First Classman Creelton. The
regular officer of the deck was below at dinner.

“I’ve come to report to the captain, sir,” announced Ralph in a
strictly official tone.

“Why, why, what are you doing here?” stammered the utterly bewildered
Creelton, while Bollup and Himski, hardly able to control themselves,
stood on the side, impatiently waiting for Ralph to finish his
reporting.

“That’s none of your business, sir,” said Ralph savagely; “you will
please send in word to the captain that First Classman Osborn, first
classman, please, is here to report in obedience to orders from the
superintendent.”

“The captain is at dinner with some guests, sir,” faltered Creelton,
“and gave orders that no reports should be sent to him till after eight
o’clock.”

“Very well; I’ll report to him then. And by the way, Mr. Creelton,
should you happen to be in correspondence with the friend who took you
on a yachting trip last September, you might report to him that I came
aboard in your watch. And advise him that if he ever dares to touch me
again I have friends that will crush him, him and his crew.”

“Hoorah!” screamed Bollup, unable to stand any more of this. “Bully for
you, Os,” and Ralph found himself seized in the arms of Himski and
Bollup, and the latter two, shouting and yelling like Indians, rushed
him forward. Cheer after cheer from forward greeted the ears of the
aghast Creelton, who, not knowing what had happened, and fearful of
what might have been discovered, was in a paroxysm of fright.

Ralph had never before appreciated how popular he was. He was actually
battered with the enthusiastic hugging he received and his arm was
nearly wrenched off. And one of the most delighted of all was Plebe
Chappell.

Everybody was wild with joy at seeing the unexpected Osborn with them
again, and hundreds of questions were shouted at him.

“Tell us all about it, Os; how did you get back? A midshipman bilged
for hazing isn’t eligible to reinstatement. It’s against the laws of
Congress. Tell us about it this minute, Os, or I’ll bust,” shouted
Bollup.

Ralph was indeed happy at the outburst of joy which his sudden
reappearance created. “Give me a chance, fellows, and I’ll tell you all
about it,” he cried. “Here, Himski, get upon that carpenter’s bench and
read this paper; it explains everything.”

Himski snatched the paper from Ralph’s hand and commenced to read as
follows:

  “_Navy Department, Washington, D. C._,

  “_August 9_,----.

  “SIR:--

  “This Department referred to the Department of Justice certain legal
  questions concerned with your dismissal from the naval service by
  sentence of court martial for the hazing of Mr. Frank Chappell, a
  citizen in the town of Annapolis.

  “The attorney-general has decided that for a naval court to have
  cognizance of an offense of hazing the hazing must have been on a
  person in the naval service. That your offense was committed on a
  civilian and therefore was not within the legal naval meaning, in
  your case, as defined by act of Congress, of hazing. Your offense
  was an assault upon a citizen in the city of Annapolis, and for that
  offense you are amenable to the municipal laws of that city.

  “The attorney-general decides that you were not legally subject to
  trial for hazing; that the charge, trial, finding and sentence were
  all illegal. The order of your dismissal is therefore and hereby
  revoked from the time it went into execution. During the time of your
  absence from the Academy your status is to be considered as that of a
  midshipman on leave.

  “A copy of the attorney-general’s complete opinion is herewith
  enclosed.

  “You will acknowledge the receipt of this letter, and with it will
  report immediately to the superintendent of the Naval Academy at
  Annapolis.

  “Very respectfully,

  “HENRY BROWN,

  “_Rear Admiral, and Acting Secretary of the Navy_.

  “TO MIDSHIPMAN RALPH OSBORN,

  “_First Class, Washington, D. C._”

  NOTE.--A midshipman who had been dismissed for hazing a candidate was
  reinstated by decision of the attorney-general of the United States
  on the grounds expressed in the above letter.

Admiral Brown might also have included in his list of titles “and
brother-in-law and dear friend of Captain Waddell,” but as Himski
read the letter this additional definition of his place in the world
did not appear, though wise ones may have a notion, incorrect of
course, that these latter unexpressed titles may have had something
to do with the alacrity by which Ralph’s case was rushed through the
attorney-general’s office.

       *       *       *       *       *

Judging by the cheers that greeted the reading of the letter it may be
safely said they all heartily approved of the attorney-general.

Ralph soon went aft and was directed to enter the captain’s cabin. Here
he expected and was prepared to receive a lecture, but was amazed as
well as pleased to be most cordially received.

The captain shook hands with him and told him he was glad to see him,
and Ralph enjoyed the short talk he had with him. He left the cabin
a little after eight, and with some uneasiness saw that the officer
of the deck, who was pacing up and down, was none other than his
relentless prosecutor, Lieutenant Colton, the judge-advocate of his
court martial.

Ralph started to walk by rapidly, but Lieutenant Colton met him with
outstretched hand. “By George, Osborn,” he exclaimed, “I can’t express
the pleasure I experience in seeing you back with us. I never had such
disagreeable duty as that of prosecuting you. I congratulate you; I’m
delighted you’re back with us.”

“Why, Mr. Colton,” said Ralph much pleased, “why, I’m surprised; I was
afraid you’d be disappointed to see me back.”

“Disappointed! Why, my dear boy, I’m really happy that you’re back!”

“You certainly acted as if you wanted to have me dismissed,” remarked
Ralph with some spirit.

“Hum, perhaps I did. But I really wasn’t working for that. You see a
judge-advocate always has his own reputation at stake; it wasn’t that
I wanted to see you dismissed, but it was vitally necessary that the
government’s case against you should be properly presented, that was
all.”

“Then you really feel friendly to me, Mr. Colton?”

“Indeed I do. My only disappointment is that you’ll probably get a
clean sleeve for your first class year and you ought to have four
stripes.”

“Thank you, Mr. Colton; I am so glad the officers are not disappointed
that I am back. The captain was awfully kind to me, and when I reported
to the superintendent he was like a father. Good-night, sir.”

“Good-night, Osborn. Come up to me some time when I have a mid-watch
and we’ll have a talk.”

Ralph quickly settled down to ship’s ways. He was detailed to
different duties with the rest of his class just as if he had not
missed most of his cruise. But no words of the pen can express the joy
he felt at being really a midshipman once more, and of his heartfelt
happiness in being with his beloved comrades, Himski and Bollup.

The two weeks aboard the _Texas_ passed swiftly and without special
incident, and on August 28th all midshipmen were once more assembled
at Annapolis and immediately dispersed to their homes; First Classman
Osborn was soon on his way to Toledo, his program being to spend two
weeks there and three weeks at Hampden Grove with Bollup.




CHAPTER XXVIII FIRST CLASS LEAVE AT HAMPDEN GROVE


Ralph’s two weeks in Toledo were crowded with pleasant outings, and
forcible were the indignant exclamations of some attractive young
ladies when they learned their midshipman was to desert them; for,
except at Annapolis, midshipmen are rare. Of course they wormed from
him where he was to spend the rest of his September leave.

“With your classmate Bollup!” cried Mary Ainsworth. “Bollup, Bollup,
Bollup! Gracious, what a name! And what’s his sister’s name, Ralph?”

“Gladys,” replied Ralph, innocently, whereupon everybody laughed at the
trap he had fallen into; Ralph reddened and then joined in with them.

“Well,” said Mary Ainsworth scornfully, “I don’t wonder she was named
Gladys; something should be done for a poor girl born with such an
awful name as Bollup; her family evidently tried to strike an average
when they gave her her first name.”

And so Ralph said his good-byes and in the middle of September was once
more at Hampden Grove. Here nothing could exceed the loving cordiality
with which Mrs. Bollup greeted him, the explosive joy of young Bollup,
the unrestrained delight of Dorothy; Colonel Bollup soon started to mix
up the mint juleps.

“My own recipe, sir; they’re not to be equaled in all Virginia, sir,”
and he was much disappointed when Ralph refused, and openly disgusted
when young Tom said, “No, thank you, dad.”

However the old gentleman drank all three, not wishing to see such good
things wasted, and his good humor soon returned.

“Tom hasn’t taken a single julep this September,” remarked Mrs. Bollup,
with evident satisfaction; “I’m awfully glad he doesn’t.”

“Stuff,” snorted the old gentleman; “my juleps would never hurt any
one.”

Tom colored and looked uneasy and changed the conversation.

There was yet another of the family who welcomed Ralph to Hampden
Grove. She gave him a warm hand clasp, and with radiant face and
eloquent eyes said: “I’m so glad you’re with us again, Ralph.” This was
all, but it was enough.

Gladys Bollup has already been described. In the year since we have
seen her she had grown and developed about as much as is to be expected
in a girl of her age. A year ago her eyes had been deep blue, so
assuredly they were not light brown or hazel or green now. She then
was tall and slender, and still is. The time is coming when she will
have lost her girlish figure, and her hair will be gray, but tell me,
Himski, can you not in the bright happy youth of your long ago, recall
to mind some girl who is even dearer now than she was then, though
to-day gray hair has replaced the golden locks that once, in your mind
at least, dazzled even the sun with its glory; has not the same face
with the true heart illuminating it grown even more beautiful?

The truthful writer of these pages has not much to say of these two
weeks that Ralph spent with the Bollups. Soon Dorothy complained
that she didn’t see much of Ralph; he was always away with Tom in
the mornings and he was forever taking long walks with Gladys in the
afternoons and evenings. And in truth Dorothy was right, and she pouted
because she wasn’t asked to go along, and thought her sister was “real
mean.”

Ralph and Gladys would wander for miles down the path by the river
bank; they strolled through the woods and across fields. They must have
had much to talk of, but what it was all about I do not know. But one
thing is certain, however interesting their talks may have been, they
didn’t seem to tell the rest of the family of the subjects that so
engrossed them.

As a faithful recorder of the doings of these young people I should
pick out some night and record their conversation; and I should tell
how the moon rose, or sank, of how fitful winds moaned and sighed,
or of the balmy breezes that floated in from the beautiful majestic
waters of the river James. And I should tell of the twinkling stars
and of glorious cumulus clouds in the heavens overhead. But this would
be imagination, which is not my forte. No doubt the stars twinkled,
the winds must have blown, the leaves must have rustled on the tree
branches pretty much as they did when you, Himski, went wandering about
the woods with some pretty girl. But I cannot speak with exactness of
these things however attractive or necessary they may be to a story,
simply because they were not recorded at the time. However, we may
be sure of one thing, that our friend Ralph had a most happy time at
Hampden Grove, and that he and Gladys Bollup were fast friends as
indeed he was with all the family.

One afternoon toward the end of Ralph’s stay a letter was handed to
him. “Hello!” he exclaimed, “here’s a letter from Himski.” A moment
later he gave a joyful shout. “Hurrah for you, Tom!” he cried. “You’ve
got four stripes. Himski has senior three and adjutant. The other three
stripers are Warren, Streeter, and, hello! Billy Bacon gets three--now
who’d ever suppose Billy would get anything--and Taylor also. Creelton
only gets a buzzard--I’m glad of that; I hope he won’t be in my
division; I’d hate to be in his company on any terms.”

Bollup listened with happy eagerness.

“Hooray!” he cried. “Four stripes, by Jiminy, that’s glorious. I’ll
have a bully good battalion this coming year; and Himski is to be my
adjutant, is he? Well, isn’t that fine? By George, I never was so happy
in my life!”

And Bollup looked it. It was indeed an honor that had come to him.
“Just watch me next year,” he joyfully cried. “I’ll get a good feed
every Sunday at some officer’s house; it will be Mr. Bollup this and
Mr. Bollup that from October first till I graduate. The commandant will
call me in and invoke my aid to steer the battalion right and I’ll help
the old boy so long as he doesn’t spoil any of my fun. Gee whiz, I’m
going to have a good time this last year; you can put that statement
down in the ship’s log.”

“What does four stripes mean, Thomas?” inquired Colonel Bollup with
great interest.

“Four stripes?” repeated Bollup. “Why, it means that your hopeful son
is cadet lieutenant-commander, the boss of the ranch, the highest thing
a midshipman ever gets to be. That’s what it means, dad.”

“Indeed!” exclaimed the colonel, full of delight; “now in honor of this
great event suppose I mix up a real Virginia----”

“Ralph, what did they give you?” interrupted Gladys. “I’m sure if Tom
gets four stripes you ought to get six.”

Ralph laughed joyfully. “Thank you, Gladys,” he replied; “I got a clean
sleeve, which is more than I deserve. I’m happy enough to have that.”

“Why, your sleeves are never dirty,” remarked Dorothy, thinking she
ought to show an intelligent interest in the talk that so absorbed them
all; “why, I’ve heard mamma say you’re one of the neatest young men she
ever knew.”

Bollup and Ralph thought this a great joke and laughed uproariously.

“I’ll tell you about it, Dorothy,” Ralph said. “You see we have
cadet officers at the Academy, whose rank is indicated by the number
of stripes on their coat sleeves. And we have petty officers, or
non-commissioned officers as they call them in the army, whose rank
is shown by eagles, which we call buzzards, on their sleeves. Now the
presumably poorest, least deserving of the first class get no rank, are
high privates, and they have no mark at all on their sleeves. And I get
a clean sleeve, which is really all I deserve. And your brother Tom
gets four stripes which makes me very happy,” and indeed Ralph looked
it.

“Let me see Himski’s letter,” cried Bollup; “I want to see it myself,”
and he took it and started to read it aloud.

“Dear Os,” he commenced, “the assignments of the cadet officers of our
class are announced and Bollup gets the four stripes which for ten
thousand reasons should have gone to you, the best all around man in
the class and number one to boot. You get a clean sleeve, old man; this
goes to prove that the officers who made out the stripe list are as
great a set of ninnies as usual.”

Bollup stopped and looked up ruefully. “Well,” he said, “Himski isn’t
very complimentary to me, is he?”

“I think Mr. Himski is just right,” said Gladys decidedly. “The idea of
those officers giving Tom four stripes and Ralph nothing! Why, that’s
ridiculous. Tom isn’t fit to be cadet lieutenant-commander of anything.
All he thinks of is having a good time and getting good Sunday dinners
and walking around so that people can see what a great man he is. Now
my idea of the highest cadet officer, the one in command of all the
midshipmen, is that he should be ambitious to have them well drilled
and to act right. But Tom! You heard him talk, and he meant just what
he said. He’ll make a precious fine senior midshipman, won’t he?” and
Gladys tossed her head indignantly.

“You know a lot about it, don’t you?” remarked her brother, sullenly;
“you’d better come next year and show me how to run it.”

“Tom will do splendidly, Gladys,” said Ralph, anxious to defend his
friend; “don’t you worry. I’m awfully glad he’s our four striper; they
couldn’t have found a better one in our class. You’ll be proud of your
brother next June when you come to see him graduate.”

“Of course I will, Ralph; but why didn’t those officers give you some
stripes? you certainly deserve them.”

“Oh, I have a bad record. You see I was court-martialed for hazing;
that killed my chances.”

“That wasn’t all, Os,” said Tom; “that Frenching you did, at least the
fact that you were caught Frenching, had a good deal to do with the
clean sleeve they gave you,” and a look of great interest came into
Bollup’s eyes. “Now, Os, we’re all here, far away from the Academy,
tell me why you Frenched that night; I’ve been more curious about
that than anything that ever happened at Annapolis. You see,” Tom
continued, turning to Gladys, “Os Frenched one night last spring; that
is he went out of the Academy when he had no right to do so; to leave
academic limits without authority is one of the most serious breaches
of discipline a midshipman can commit. It’s nothing against his honor;
I Frenched a dozen times last year and never got caught. The wrong in
violating regulations is being caught at it. Now this was the only time
in his life that Os Frenched and he had the hard luck to get spotted.
The queer thing about it is that he has never told a soul why he
Frenched that night. Really, it’s a mystery. I’ve always been wild to
know the reason; come now, Os, old boy, let’s have it. We’ll all keep
it secret, won’t we?”

“Oh, Ralph, do tell us the secret. I just love secrets,” cried Dorothy,
her eyes opened wide, thinking she was going to learn something of
mighty moment.

“Perhaps Ralph doesn’t want to tell,” said Gladys, but much interested
and hoping nevertheless that Ralph would explain the mystery.

Ralph colored up quickly and was most uncomfortable. “Now, Tom,” he
said, “this isn’t at all kind of you. I’m sorry I can’t talk about the
matter but I’ll just say one thing, I did nothing then that I’ve since
regretted or been ashamed of; and if it did result in a clean sleeve
for me, why I’m satisfied. Please don’t ask me to say anything more
about it.”

“Of course we won’t, Ralph,” said Gladys gently. “I’m sure you had a
good reason for doing what you did. But I’m awfully sorry you are not a
cadet officer just the same. I’m sure you ought to be.”

“Indeed he ought to be,” broke in Tom; “everybody in the class knows
that, and Himski is dead right about the four stripes. They should have
gone to Os by right, and it’s a matter of hard luck they didn’t. He’s
got a clean sleeve, but everybody in the class knows he’s the best man
in it. I’m awfully sorry, Os, indeed I am.”

“Thank you very much, all of you, for thinking of me so highly. Indeed
I’m happy enough to have the right to wear the uniform. I never had
the faintest notion of getting stripes and I’m not a bit disappointed.”
Yet all the same, Ralph was secretly very happy with Himski’s remark
and with the friendly comments of Bollup.

The end of September soon came and the two midshipmen prepared for
their return to Annapolis. But before leaving it was decided that
Gladys and her mother would be present at the graduation of these two
classmates. Gladys was wild with delight at the prospect; she had heard
of the glorious times girls have at the Annapolis June week. Dorothy
was quite hurt; she didn’t see why she should not go with her mother
and sister.

Who can tell of the last long walks in the dying sunlight and in the
cool evening breezes of Ralph and Gladys? of what they said to each
other, of the important thoughts they exchanged? Surely not you or
me, Himski; and it wasn’t very important either, and must have been
forgotten long ago. But on the morning they left Tom turned to his
sister and said: “Gladys, I’ll try to get you a partner for our class
german and for the graduating ball. Partners are scarce those times
and girls are plenty, but I hope I’ll find you one,” to which Gladys
instantly replied:

“Don’t you bother about getting a partner for me, Tom Bollup; don’t you
worry a bit about that.” And then she colored up and blushed prettily,
and it must be confessed that Ralph looked conscious and suddenly
became much interested in some cirrus clouds in the far distance.

Bollup looked from one to the other and then gave a short, merry laugh,
and said: “All right, sis, I won’t.”




CHAPTER XXIX “TURN OUT ON THIS FLOOR. TURN OUT, TURN OUT”


It is October first, and once more are exchanged joyous greetings among
several hundred young men at Annapolis; fresh from a happy vacation
they hurl at one another warm welcomes. It was an enthusiastic breaking
up and departure a month ago but it is none the less a joyful, eager
return, for the hearts of midshipmen, their interests, their ambitions,
are always centered at the Naval Academy. We see the same young faces
of our familiar acquaintances, yet in their spirit is detected a
difference. There is always evident in the bearing of the senior class
a conscious superiority; and even the clean sleevers, little though
their own authority be, feel they belong to the governing class and
take pride in the thought. In front of the center of the battalion,
facing it as it has assembled in ranks, proud of the honor that has
come to him and tremendously conscious of the four golden stripes that
brilliantly adorn each sleeve, stood Bollup. A few paces before him
stands another well-known friend, Himski, in the act of saluting and
reporting:--“Sir, the battalion is formed.” In front of each company
of midshipmen are stalwart, erect young men in whom it is hard to
recognize the slouchy gawky plebes of three years before. And in an
unimportant place in ranks, with no authority, stands the number one
man of his class, Ralph Osborn.

There was no bitterness in Ralph’s mind that he should have been so
signally left out when the class honors were distributed; he was
thankful enough to be in the dark blue uniform, clean though his
sleeves were of any ornaments; but it must be admitted that he took
much satisfaction in knowing that, though now far down in authority
in his class, this would be but temporary; that after graduation and
thereafter as long as he was in the Navy he would always have rank in
his own class and authority in accordance with his class standing. He
would always be the first of his class on the Navy list, would always
be the first of his class to be promoted to the higher naval ranks. In
but a few months he would be senior to Bollup, Himski and all of the
rest. And so Ralph was entirely content.

As battalion commander, Bollup made a noble figure and all of the new
cadet officers attacked their responsible duties with genuine desire to
excel.

Till toward the end there is but little to tell of Ralph’s first class
year. Though he did not take part himself, he enjoyed the football
games in which the Academy played a successful season. In Philadelphia
from the bleachers he saw Bollup make that wonderful run, dodging,
twisting, squirming and diving through eleven West Point players,
bringing victory in place of what had seemed certain defeat for
Annapolis. Indescribable was the pent-up, agonized joy that surged
through Ralph’s mind at this moment, and equally so of the craze that
swept the midshipmen to a howling, delirious happiness.

This year there happened to Ralph no untoward incident; no more plots
were planned against his peace of mind and good reputation. In truth
nothing could have induced Creelton to have made further efforts, for
if there was one person Creelton feared, it was Ralph. He knew Ralph
was certain of his guilt and rejoiced that no tangible evidence of it
had been found out. So he had no higher ambition than to leave Ralph
entirely alone. But Creelton could not restrain his predilection for
stealing. He was a degenerate, of bright mentality to be sure, but
utterly unable to control himself. He was keen to take no chances
and though at times articles would disappear, he was never detected.
Ralph’s class became uneasy; that there was a thief in the class was a
matter quietly believed by many, and when at times it was discussed in
Ralph’s presence he would always say: “Creelton’s the thief.” Except
perhaps by Bollup and Himski no one could believe that Creelton was a
thief, and Himski cautioned Ralph to make no such charges for he had
no evidence and could not prove them.

It is in the constantly recurring formations and drills that the cadet
officers at Annapolis exercise their authority. In these Ralph, being
a “clean sleever,” took his place in ranks at formation, shouldered a
gun in infantry, manned the drag rope in artillery, and pulled on ropes
in seamanship drills. And in it all he was perfectly happy. Though in
these drills he was not to be heard shouting orders nor seen proudly
carrying a sword in front of a company of midshipmen, yet he had his
triumphs, and in these his soul was deeply satisfied; for at the end of
each month when the marks for departments were published, the name of
Osborn led the first class in seamanship and in navigation, in gunnery,
electricity and steam engineering. Before the middle of the first class
year it was certain beyond all doubt that Ralph would be graduated at
the head of his class on final average, and as such, despite his being
a “clean sleever,” he was a marked man.

To Ralph, though he loved him as a brother, Bollup was a great
disappointment as cadet lieutenant-commander. The latter was immensely
popular with the battalion of midshipmen and with the families of
officers stationed at Annapolis. In this high position Bollup had
little if any ambition other than to gratify and further his social
pleasures. When at Hampden Grove he had so impulsively told of the good
times he anticipated his four stripes would bring him he had expressed
his natural characteristics. As the highest ranking midshipman in the
Academy it was to have been expected that Bollup would exert all of
the penetrating influence of his rank upon the other cadet officers,
would constantly have kept them spurred up to a high sense of duty. But
Bollup wanted fun more than anything else and as a natural result did
not spend much time thinking of his really important responsibilities.
It was but natural that the standard of duty which at this epoch
existed in the battalion was not of a very high order as midshipmen
battalions go.

Ralph at first had great hopes of Bollup as four striper. In his secret
heart he felt that he had something to do with the giving of that rank
to his winsome friend. He had certainly saved him from a report that
would have meant expulsion. Ralph was at first disappointed and then
became grieved. He essayed a number of times to talk seriously to
Bollup, but the latter at first only laughed good-naturedly at him.

“Look here, Os,” he said, “don’t preach to me; I didn’t ask for these
four stripes and I didn’t bootlick for them either; and I’m going to do
just as I please.”

“All the same, you ought to have some regard for the position you
occupy,” argued Ralph; “you’re the first four striper I ever heard of
that Frenched.”

“Now, Os, don’t take advantage of your friendship; if I French it’s my
own business,” replied Bollup with some temper. “I don’t interfere with
you and I should hate to have any coolness come between us. I don’t
blame you for being rigid with yourself and with others when you are on
duty, but I’m a little too old and have been at the Academy too long to
have any one tell me what I ought or ought not to do.”

“Nevertheless, Bollup, hating to interfere, and only interfering
because of my friendship and interest, I must again ask you to reflect
upon the course you are running. You are four striper, the senior
midshipman here, and yet you repeatedly French. If you have no regard
for your personal influence then it is up to you to have some for the
stripes on your sleeve. And if this reasoning doesn’t touch you then
just think what would happen to you if you should get spotted, Tom.
I appeal to you first because of your duty, and second for your own
interests.”

“Look here, Osborn,” cried Bollup, in sudden anger, “let me tell you
that as cadet lieutenant-commander of the battalion I’ll talk duty with
my cadet lieutenants, not with a clean sleever; and as for my personal
matters, I’ll ask you to attend to your own affairs and leave mine
alone.”

“Oh,” said Ralph, stung to the heart, “I thought I was talking to a
friend; I forgot I was speaking to the cadet lieutenant-commander.”

Bollup walked off in high dudgeon. He had, in fact, become puffed up
and conceited with his high cadet rank and foolishly chose to resent
the friendly advice of his best friend, one to whom he owed, though
he did not know it, the very stripes he wore. This was in the middle
of April, six weeks from graduation. In this way a coolness sprang up
between Ralph and Bollup. The former was sadly hurt in his feelings,
and in the latter’s conceit he resented a clean sleever presuming to
dictate to his high superior officer. It is seen here that Bollup took
naturally to the prerogative of rank.

And so this once warm friendship became strained, and Ralph and Bollup,
though they spoke to one another, no longer had those daily meetings
and close interchange of thought that once had been so precious to
each. Ralph grieved at this but it is not likely that Bollup gave it
much thought.

As first classman Ralph took his turn in coming on as midshipman in
charge of floor and officer of the day, and when on such duty, had had
routine inspection and reports to make. It was natural, in view of the
serious trouble and difficulties he had had, that he should have been
very rigid in matters of duty. Midshipmen are most reluctant to report
classmates for violation of regulations and generally avoid doing
so except when absolutely necessary, but in this respect Ralph was
entirely conscientious and at times did report some of his own class.
These respected the reasons that animated him and he did not lose
popularity because of such occasional reports.

But on one Saturday evening Ralph was on duty at the Maryland Avenue
gate. There had been a dance which had closed at eleven o’clock and
the midshipmen were allowed one hour after the dance to escort their
friends home. It was Ralph’s duty to report any midshipman who returned
later than midnight and he reported Bollup for being “ten minutes late
in returning from hop liberty.”

At this Bollup was much affronted; he received twenty-five demerits
and lost many privileges, cadet lieutenant-commander though he was. He
became very angry and the next time he passed Ralph he deliberately cut
him.

Two weeks later Ralph was on duty as “midshipman in charge of floor”;
he was mustered in front of the office of the officer-in-charge and
from there went to his post. His station was at his desk, placed where
the whole floor was under his eye. After making the routine inspection
of rooms required Ralph settled down to study at his desk. Everything
on the floor was quiet until half-past nine, then “main quarters”
suddenly exploded into life. Hundreds of midshipmen threw aside their
books and burst into the corridors, running, laughing and talking,
all in high spirits. Most of them were in study jackets, white working
trousers, and fencing slippers, an easy lounging dress.

With some surprise Ralph noted that Bollup was not only completely
dressed, but it was evident he had just shaved and had on his very
newest suit, the gold stripes of the coat shining with a brand new
glittering brilliancy. At ten o’clock these bustling, happy young
men were all in bed, which fact was not taken for granted but was
ascertained by an actual inspection of every room in the building; this
was done by cadet officers from each company.

At half-past ten, Ralph, still at his desk, grew impatient. “Why
doesn’t the officer-in-charge turn us in?” he wondered. The midshipmen
on duty are required to remain at their posts until they are relieved
by order of the officer-in-charge. At a quarter to eleven a door
opened, and a head, which Ralph recognized as belonging to Bollup,
looked rapidly up and down the corridor. This occurred again a few
minutes later. Eleven o’clock came, and still the midshipmen on duty
remained at their posts, probably wondering if they had been forgotten.
Shortly after, Ralph called up the officer-in-charge’s office by
telephone.

“Hello! Is this the officer of the day?”

“Yes, This is Warren. Who are you?”

“Osborn. Say, Warren, what’s up? why don’t you turn us in?”

“Hello, Os. Something’s up. The O. C.[11] is out in front and has
been talking to Graham, the head watchman. I heard part of a report
Graham made half an hour ago. He said he saw some midshipmen running
through the yard. I guess there’s a late tea party somewhere and some
midshipmen are out. Graham then left, and I imagine a trap has been
laid to get them. Ring off; the O. C. is headed this way.”

A moment later Bollup stepped from his room, fully dressed and darted
toward the back stairs, near where Ralph’s desk was. Ralph stood in
the way. It now flashed over him that Bollup was expected at the party
Warren had spoken of. He instantly made up his mind to prevent Bollup
from committing such a serious breach of discipline.

“Hold on, Tom, you can’t go down here,” he said determinedly.

Bollup’s eyes flashed anger. “I’ll trouble you not to interfere with my
doings, Mister Osborn,” he said.

“You can’t pass by me, Tom,” said Ralph sadly. “I have my duty to
perform, both to the regulations and to my friend, for I’m not willing
to give you up yet, Tom.”

“Don’t bother about the friendship, Mister Osborn, and as for duty,
it isn’t customary for a private to talk about duty to his commanding
officer. Get out of my way! Don’t you dare to stop me!” He made a rush
to pass Ralph but the latter threw himself on Bollup and caught him
around the waist and down they both went in a heap to the floor, and
rolled over and over. Bollup struggled with angry energy and was beside
himself with rage; twice he viciously struck Ralph in the face. The
latter clung desperately to Bollup; Bollup was the stronger of the two
but he could not get rid of Ralph’s hold. They finally got up and tears
of passionate anger streamed from Bollup’s eyes. “Oh!” he cried, “if I
can ever show you how I hate and despise you, I surely will! If I live
a thousand years I’ll never speak to you again!”

[Illustration: Ralph threw himself on Bollup and caught him around the
waist]

Bollup looked at his beautiful new service coat, now torn and dirty,
and his anger broke out afresh; and with bitter rage dominating those
handsome features he reiterated his lasting hatred against Ralph, and
then returned to his room.

Ralph’s heart was filled with conflicting emotions. He believed he had
saved Bollup a second time, but he knew he would receive no thanks for
this; and he now feared the breach between himself and this once dear
friend was irreparable.

While rueful thoughts were thus surging through Ralph’s mind his
telephone bell rang.

“Hello,” he heard Warren’s voice say, “break out Bollup and send him to
the office immediately for orders; and turn out everybody on your deck.
We’re going to muster the battalion to see who’s missing.”

“Turn out, Bollup,” called out Ralph, rushing to the latter’s room;
“report to the office for orders. The battalion is to be broken out
and mustered.” And then rushing up and down the corridor, he threw
open the doors of different rooms, shouting, “Turn out on this floor,
turn out, turn out.” Resounding cries from other floors were to be
heard throughout “main quarters,” and soon from all the rooms sleepy
midshipmen, rubbing their eyes, were to be seen emerging. Ralph now ran
to his own room where Himski was in the act of dressing, and he threw
off his dirty coat and started to bathe his face.

“What’s all this row about, Os?” asked Himski. “Why are we being turned
out? Look here, old fellow, you must have been fighting; some one has
plugged you a pretty good one. What’s the trouble?”

“Somebody’s Frenching, I imagine, Himski, but please don’t ask me any
questions about my appearance, please don’t; I can’t talk about it. But
it’s nothing to do with the turning out of the battalion.”

Himski stared soberly at Ralph but made no further comment. He observed
that Ralph’s eye was nearly closed up and felt that he would learn the
facts later.

The muster of the battalion disclosed five absentees; these were of
the first and second classes. Later they were all recommended to be
dismissed but instead, the Secretary of the Navy directed that less
drastic punishment be meted out to them. The graduation diplomas of the
two first classmen were withheld for one month and the three second
classmen were deprived of the following September leave.

FOOTNOTE:

[11] O. C.--Officer-in-charge.




CHAPTER XXX THE THIEF UNMASKED


The next day while Himski was in his room talking with Streeter, Cadet
Lieutenant Hamm, better known in the battalion as “Billy Bacon,”
entered with a rush.

“Look here, Himski,” he cried, “the thief has been busy again. This
is the third time he’s called on me in my absence and each time he’s
helped himself to something. This time it isn’t much but I’ve suffered
all I’m going to from him, and as you are class president I demand you
do something.”

“What’s gone this time, Billy?” asked Himski, his dark eyes lighting
with interest.

“Six towels. I’d just drawn them from the store; I haven’t even cut
them yet.”

“No way of identifying them from other towels, is there?”

“Yes, by George, there is! Though I hadn’t cut them apart I had stamped
my name in indelible ink on the inside of each pair. I then folded them
back. But my name is there all right.”

“Streeter,” said Himski suddenly, “you and Creelton are friendly,
aren’t you?”

“Oh, friendly enough; why?”

“I want you to go to his room now and ask him to lend you a half dozen
of new towels, ones just from the store, and say you will return them
later.”

“Look here, Himski, I don’t like to do that. I don’t care much for
Creelton but I’d hate to believe him a thief. I know Os thinks he
is, but he’s never offered a bit of proof, and I’d hate to accuse a
classmate of being a thief.”

“I don’t ask you to do more than borrow some towels from Creelton,
Streeter. Now I’ve got good reasons for what I’m asking you to do. I’d
do it myself if I were on friendly terms with him. If it proves I’ve
done Creelton a wrong I’ll make as public an apology as you think I
should. Now, Streeter, will you borrow those towels?”

“Yes, I will. I’ll do it immediately.”

All three left the room, Streeter going first, and soon the latter was
in Creelton’s room.

“Say, Creelton,” said he, “can you let me have a half dozen face
towels, new ones? I’ll return you some later.”

“Certainly I can,” replied Creelton, glad to do Streeter a favor;
“I’ve some new ones I have just drawn on my last monthly requisition.
Take them, old man,” and he went to his wardrobe and took out some new
towels and handed them to Streeter. As he was in the act of doing so,
and before the towels had left his hands, Himski and Hamm entered the
room. “Take a look at those towels, Billy,” said the former; “see if
you can identify them.”

“What do you mean?” shouted Creelton, a frightful fear entering his
soul. “What are you insinuating? I drew those towels from the store;
they have never left my possession.” And though striving to be firm and
decided, his features twitched and he was in a paroxysm of fear.

Without replying Hamm opened one pair of towels at a time, and there,
in the center of each towel, was stamped in indelible ink, “William
Hamm.”

“Well, Creelton, you’re the thief we’ve been looking for, and we’ve
been looking a long time. I’ve suspected it for two years but could
find no proof. But we have you now, thank goodness, and there’ll be no
thief in our class when we graduate.”

Creelton seemed stunned and dazed at this sudden accusation; he looked
as though he would collapse from sheer shock and fright; he tried to
glance about at the others, searching for some one to help, to defend
him; he tried to speak but the words failed to come; clutching the back
of a chair he tried again, and this artificial support seemingly giving
him some courage, he began hoarsely, “You fellows are fooling; I don’t
know what you’re talking about. I got those towels on my last monthly
requisition; I drew them only yesterday.” He seemed to gain confidence
in himself as he went on. “Some one is either playing a joke or
putting up a job on me. What do you mean about no thief graduating?
You don’t think I’m a thief, do you? You’re not going to report me for
anything, are you?”

“Not if I’ve made a mistake, Creelton,” said Himski slowly. “If I have
wronged you, I’ll apologize. But this matter must be investigated.”

“Never mind the apology, Himski; that will be all right. Let’s shake
hands,” and Creelton came eagerly forward.

“Where did you get those towels?” asked Himski.

“At the store, I tell you; I drew them yesterday; this is the fourth
time I’ve told you that.”

“Just write that down on a piece of paper, Creelton, so that I will not
forget and ask you again.”

Creelton quickly took pencil and paper and wrote: “The towels I have
lent to Streeter I drew from the store yesterday.” Himski read the
paper, then put it in his pocket. He then said to Hamm, “Billy, run
down to the store double time; tell the clerk Mr. Creelton wants to see
his requisition book to check up what he drew last month.” And Hamm
left on a dead run.

“I don’t want it,” cried Creelton; “this is a put up job!”

“Come in, Taylor,” called out Himski to the former, who was passing
in the corridor. “I want you to stay here and see that Creelton gets
fair play; never mind what it’s all about. Streeter, skip out and bring
Bollup here. He’s four striper and should know what’s going on.”

In a few moments Streeter reappeared with Bollup, and soon Hamm ran
breathlessly in with an open requisition book, of the kind in which are
charged the articles drawn monthly by midshipmen.

“He didn’t draw any towels last month and I don’t know for how many
months back,” cried Billy Bacon.

“I’m going to search your room now, Creelton,” said Himski; and suiting
the action to the word, he commenced throwing things pell-mell from the
shelves of the wardrobe to the floor.

“I object,” cried Creelton, in frantic, impotent fear.

In the middle shelf, covered up by clothing, was a locked tin box.
Creelton made a desperate leap toward Himski but was held back by
Bollup who was looking on with grim approval.

After a while Himski said: “I think this is all; give me the towels and
the box. We’ll go now to the commandant’s office. I want you fellows to
keep entirely quiet about this and let me run it.”

Creelton almost collapsed and now stricken with fear said nothing. In a
moment they were before the commandant.

“Sir,” said Himski, “I have to report Creelton for being a thief; I
believe he is the thief we’ve had among us for four years.”

“This is an awful charge, Mr. Himski,” said the commandant gravely.

“It is, sir, and if it’s true, as I believe it is, there is all the
more reason why it should be made. I believe complete evidence will be
found in this tin box which is pretty heavy.” And then Himski related
all that had happened.

“What have you to say, Mr. Creelton?”

“It’s all a lie, sir; I don’t know how Mr. Hamm’s name came to be on
those towels. It’s a job on me, sir,” gasped the miserable culprit.

“Sir,” said Himski, “I request permission for a class meeting after
supper to-night to consider these things.”

The commandant mused for a moment, and then said: “Granted, but I will
be present.”

“I would like to leave the box and towels with you, sir, so that there
could be no question of any tampering with them.”

“Very well; I’ll take charge of them and will bring them with me
to-night at your meeting.”

“I want my box, sir,” Creelton almost shrieked; “I have private papers,
private things of my own. I protest!”

“That will do, gentlemen,” ordered the commandant, and all withdrew.

“Your roommate, the prig, will have his innings now,” remarked Bollup
to Himski, as the two walked off together.

“What do you mean by calling Os a prig?” demanded Himski, sharply.

“Oh, he’s become too fresh of late; for a clean sleever he’s a bit too
free with his advice to the four striper, at least I think so; any way,
I’ve done with Osborn. I’ll never speak to him again.”

“Bollup, Os is one of the best of fellows and the best friend you ever
had. You ought to know it better than any one.”

“When a man interferes with my private arrangements and prevents me
from keeping an engagement he’s no friend of mine and Osborn is crossed
off my list of friends,” remarked Bollup savagely. “But,” he continued
with a hard, mirthless laugh, “he’ll think of me occasionally, at least
until that left eye of his heals up.”

“I thought so,” said Himski, quietly.

“Thought so?” exclaimed Bollup in surprise. “Didn’t Osborn tell you
where he got that eye?”

“He did not, and that’s why I somehow imagined he got it from you.”

“Hasn’t Osborn told you of what happened between him and me after
eleven last night?”

“Not a word.”

“Well, I’ll tell you. I had an engagement out in town; a pleasant
party had been planned. I would have gone but Osborn stopped me. When
I tried to pass him he tackled me and we both went to the floor. He
spoiled for me a brand new service coat and stopped me from keeping an
engagement. I plugged him good and hard and I’m glad of it.”

“If you had gone your absence would have been reported just like the
five who were absent from the midnight muster last night, would it not?”

“Of course. But Osborn did not know that a muster was to be held.”

“Yes, he did know it. Warren told me he telephoned Os last night at
eleven that the O. C. knew some midshipmen were out and was laying a
trap for them. Os stopped you from going and saved your stripes for
you. And by the way of thanks you strike him a fearful blow in the eye
and tell me you’re glad of it. I’m disgusted with you,” and indeed
Himski looked his disdain.

Bollup began to feel uncomfortable. “Look here, Himski,” he said weakly
and uneasily, “don’t you think Os, being nothing but a clean sleever,
should pay a little more respect to the cadet lieutenant-commander
than----”

Himski, in a fever of indignation, now turned on Bollup with
uncontrollable fury. “My heavens, man,” he almost shouted, “have you
the slightest conception of what a contemptible cad you are? Have you
never guessed why you got four stripes and Os a clean sleeve? You,
cad that you are, to suggest that the man who made you, who saved you
from disgraceful dismissal, who with a whole heart gave you the four
stripes that up to that time were slated for him, should use more
deference to the stripes that were his! and which out of his great soul
he presented to you, shriveled, dwarfed, contemptible thing that you
are! And so you are glad you blackened his eye, are you, and will never
speak to him again?

“Faugh! You to speak so of the man who saved you from disgraceful
expulsion! You make me sick. Cross my name out of your list of friends,
too.”

“Why, why, Himski, what are you talking about?--why, I don’t think
you have any right to talk this way to me,” stammered Bollup, utterly
aghast at Himski’s onslaught.

“Bollup, do you remember the time, about a year ago now, you were so
helplessly drunk at the Maryland Hotel?”

“I don’t like to remember it,” replied Bollup, reddening. “I thought
no one even knew anything about that. But what has that got to do with
what we are talking about?”

“Do you remember that that same night Os was reported for Frenching
though no one ever knew why he had Frenched?”

“Yes, but I had nothing to do with that.”

“Nothing that you remember of. Os heard of your condition; there was
no time to lose; he ran through the gate and knew he was reported. He
ran into me on Maryland Avenue and together we found you. You were
too far gone to know either of us. Well, we got you into a boat, rowed
around and got you into quarters and into bed without any one seeing
you. Os saved you from a justly merited dismissal and made you a
present of four stripes at the same time. He saved you a second time,
at least saved your stripes last night. And what do you give him in
return? Forsooth a black eye; and you cut his acquaintance! And you
are indignant that he doesn’t bow lower to those stripes which are
tarnished and dim on your sleeves, but which, were they where they
belonged, and you know where that is, would have been honored as yours
never have been!”

A dawning consciousness now swept through Bollup’s mind and a flood
of recollection enveloped it. He thought of Osborn, the victim
of persecution and one who had suffered so much; of Osborn, the
self-sacrificing Os, to whom he owed everything; the loving friend
who had given his all, and who even now, spurned and contemptuously
treated, uttered no complaint. A well of emotion surged through his
heart, and now came a bright, vivid appreciation of the brotherly love
which Ralph had accorded him; Bollup was not prepared for this, and
uncontrolled tears gushed from his eyes. He clutched Himski’s arm and
spoke brokenly.

“I--I didn’t know of this, Himski, I--I never imagined it. Oh, what
shall I do? What can I do, Himski? I am the most contemptible cad
any one ever knew,” and bitter self-hatred was replacing conceit in
Bollup’s mind. “Is there anything I can do, is there any hope for me?
Oh, what a friend I have had; did ever a man have such a friend? Have I
lost him forever, Himski?”

“Suppose you go and ask him, Bollup; there he is now, standing by his
desk in the corridor. I’m going to my room.”

When Ralph saw Bollup approaching him in the corridor he was feeling
particularly sad and woebegone. He had had many troubles and sorrows
but the loss of Bollup’s friendship cut him deepest.

When he found himself suddenly clasped by Bollup and heard that dear
friend in broken, halting sentences beg for forgiveness and utterly
debase himself he could have cried for joy; not to have seen Bollup in
such dejected, shameful grief, but because he knew that the miserable
misunderstanding of the last few weeks between himself and Bollup was
forever dispelled.

Let us leave them together; young men are awkward in expressing their
feelings to one another; they are not as demonstrative as girls, who
no doubt would have had an outlet in kissing and petting each other
with cooing words. But in this quarrel deep feelings had been touched
and much emotion was displayed by both. A most perfect and complete
reconciliation occurred and a glad happiness filled the heart of each.

It was amusing thereafter to watch Bollup. He became filled with an
admiration for Ralph exceeding anything he had ever felt before. He was
never satisfied unless he was with Ralph; in his mind Ralph was one
of the greatest characters he had ever known, one who combined great
mental capacity with a great soul.

Himski gave them about an hour to purr to each other, then went to them
and said: “Os, there’s a class meeting after supper to-night. Be sure
to be there.”

“All right; what’s up?”

“Oh, I’m going to prove Creelton the thief we’re looking for. But don’t
talk about it. I’ve got him, though; it’s certain he’s the man; I’ve
got the proof.”

Ralph was wild with excitement and curiosity, but the special detail
were now called to supper and he had to hurry away.

“Himski,” said Bollup, after Ralph had left, “I’ve been a cad; I
deserve all you said, but I’m going to try to square things up as well
as I can. I want to talk it over with you, and I want your advice.”

A long talk in low tones followed. At first Himski expostulated and
disapproved, but finally Bollup’s vehemence won him over. “All right,
Bol,” finally said Himski; “I think it may be done and I’ll help you if
I can. I’m certain that you want to do it. And one thing more, Bol, I
want to withdraw my remarks about your being a cad. You’re now proving
yourself ‘white.’”

“It will take a lot of proof,” Bollup remarked, much pleased at
Himski’s words, “but I shall do the best I can. But I think you will
have to do most of the talking, Himski; we’ll see the commandant
together and you will help me, I’m sure. You have a way of making
people see things as you see them, and I may fail in expressing myself
properly or as I wish to.”

“All right. There goes the bugle for supper. We’ll have an important
job later, that of showing up Creelton. I have great hopes that the tin
box may prove all the evidence we need; but if it doesn’t he will have
hard work to prove he didn’t steal the towels; he has told impossible
stories as to how he got them. Be on hand early after supper.”




CHAPTER XXXI RALPH’S LOST WATCH IS FOUND


At the close of the evening meal the bell for attention was struck and
all midshipmen waited for whatever notice or announcement was to be
made. Himski then arose from his seat and called out:

“An important meeting of the first class will be held in the
reading-room immediately after supper. Every first classman should be
present.”

“What’s Himski going to spring on us?” asked Warren of Ralph later in
the reading-room.

“Just wait till he tells you,” replied the latter. At this moment a
party composed of Himski, Bollup, Creelton, Streeter and Hamm entered,
and with them was the commandant. The latter carried under his arm a
tin box and several towels. When inside the room he handed them to
Himski and then quietly said, “Go ahead, Mr. Himski.” He then went to
the rear of the room. Creelton seemed to hesitate, but Bollup with a
firm grip on his arm half led, half dragged him to one end of the room
where Himski had jumped on top of a table and had commenced speaking.

“Classmates,” he said, “we have all been conscious since we entered the
Academy that there has been a thief in this building, and at different
times many of us have had things stolen. I had feared the thief was a
classmate. This idea was a horror, a nightmare, but until now I have
had no evidence. But something happened this afternoon which points
suspicion strongly toward Creelton. Billy Bacon came to me, grumbling
that the thief had collared some new towels of his; but he said that
though the towels were uncut he had stamped his name on the inside of
each towel. Now I had suspected Creelton, for reasons I have not talked
about, of being the thief; so I asked Streeter to go to Creelton and
borrow some new towels. Bollup, Billy Bacon and I followed Streeter
to Creelton’s room and saw Creelton in the act of handing Streeter
these towels; just pass them about among you; you will see they are
brand new, uncut, and you will find Billy Bacon’s name on each of
them. I accused Creelton of having stolen them from Billy; he declared
his innocence, said he had drawn these same towels from the store
yesterday. I have his signed statement to that effect. I have here his
requisition book, and find all he drew yesterday was a bottle of ink
and six pairs of white gloves. I then searched his wardrobe and found
this tin box which was covered with things and hidden from view. I took
it to the commandant; Creelton was with me at the time, and until a few
minutes ago it was in the commandant’s possession. Creelton cannot say
that anybody has monkeyed with this box since it left his possession.
It’s locked but I’m going to break it open.”

“I object,” rang out Creelton’s voice to which Himski paid no
attention, for he was prying open the box with a steel chisel he had
provided himself with, and he soon broke the lock.

The first classmen stood listening, spellbound. Himski had spoken in
a perfectly natural way, without feeling, yet his words had carried
conviction. All had known that a persistent thief existed at the
Academy; many had uneasy feelings this might be a midshipman, and some
had feared it was a classmate. A few had known of Ralph’s opinion of
Creelton and perhaps were not surprised. Creelton, with deathlike
pallor on his face, knowing in his heart that he had been discovered,
that his crimes were now out, in awful fear and dismay looked the
culprit he was; he did not dare to meet the indignant eyes that were
now directed upon him.

Himski opened the box. “Hello,” he said, “here’s one mystery explained;
here’s a watch, with an inscription on the inside,” and he commenced to
read, “Ralph Osborn, from his uncle----”

“That’s my watch,” interrupted Ralph, shouting in his excitement, and
full of delight he bounded toward Himski as if he had been fired out of
a gun.

“And here’s several class rings,--Warren, Taylor,--come up and get
them. Here’s a napkin ring. And here’s a watch and chain and several
pins,--any of you fellows that have had any jewelry stolen from you
come up and identify your property.”

Tremendous excitement now followed.

“Hold on, fellows, here’s a packet of letters. They are addressed to
Creelton; he certainly is the thief we’re looking for but I don’t know
that I have any right to read these letters.”

“Go on, read them, read them, go ahead,” came shouts from different
parts of the room.

Himski paused, and then said looking to Creelton, “What do you say--do
you object?”

Creelton threw open his arms in involuntary admission of complete
surrender. Craven at heart, with no friend to encourage him, conscious
of guilt and knowing he had been found out, he had no heart to attempt
any defense. “Read them,” he said. “You’ll find out why I had to take
Osborn’s watch; there’s somebody else as bad as I am.”

And Himski read letter after letter, the letters from Short which
Creelton had saved for his own protection. There was but one burden,
one theme to these letters; they were characterized by a malignant
animosity toward Ralph Osborn that can be most expressively described
as fiendish. Schemes were suggested, many of them never attempted,
by which Ralph was to be disgraced and dismissed from the Academy.
The theft of Bollup’s watch and the attempt to fasten it on Ralph,
the writing on Professor Moehler’s blackboard, and the hazing of Mr.
Chappell were all discussed.

In the earlier letters were forcible threats of what might happen to
Creelton if the writer’s plans were not carried out, and the relations
that existed between Creelton and the writer of the letters were
clearly defined.

“These letters are all signed T. G. S.,” said Himski, “which may stand
for Thomas G. Short. Do they?” he suddenly asked Creelton.

“Yes,” replied the latter.

“Well, fellows,” continued Himski, “Creelton is the thief we’ve been
looking for; he’s a disgrace to our class and to the uniform he wears;
I’m thankful enough he has finally been found out even if it has taken
four years. I don’t know that I have anything more to say, except that
reports will be made immediately and of course the authorities will
take action--I’m glad the commandant has been with us to-night; he
knows as much about it now as any of us do.”

Himski’s talk, and his reading of the letters, had created a most
intense excitement. The world of these young men was very small
and this matter was tremendously personal to every one of them. An
all-powerful indignation now possessed them and undoubtedly wild
disorder was about to ensue. A dozen were on their feet and had
commenced shouting, when suddenly Himski’s clear voice in vibrating
tones called out, “Attention,” and the commandant’s tall form was seen
to approach Himski. The midshipmen all subsided and military order was
once more in complete control.

“Mr. Creelton,” asked the commandant, “do you admit the truth of Mr.
Himski’s charges?”

Creelton made no reply; he did not raise his eyes to the commandant’s
face. There was no fight in him; his one ambition now was to escape. He
knew there was no hope of any possibility of defense and in fact he had
as much as admitted his guilt.

“Mr. Bollup, take Mr. Creelton to the officer-in-charge in close
arrest. I will give orders about him later.” The miserable young man
jumped up with alacrity, glad to hurry away from an atmosphere charged
to the saturation point with indignation and contempt for him. He now
feared bodily injury, not knowing to what extent the angry feelings
of his classmates might dominate them. He concerns this narrative
no further. It is enough to say that before nine o’clock, during a
temporary absence of the midshipman in charge of the floor from his
post, Creelton escaped from his room and from the building and was
never seen again at Annapolis; but later, although not present, he went
through formal dismissal, and a most scathing letter expelling him,
written by the Secretary of the Navy, was published to the battalion.

The commandant was speaking when Bollup returned to the class meeting.

“Gentlemen,” he began, “you have witnessed an astonishing thing; it
does not seem possible that such a criminal could have lived among you
for four years and have escaped detection in all of this time. However,
with Mr. Himski and with you all, I am but too thankful that this thief
has at last been unmasked. I wish to thank Mr. Himski for the way he
has handled this matter; you made no mistake when you elected him your
class president. I have known of his suspicions for some time but until
to-day there has been positively nothing to work on.

“You are all feeling badly about this; you feel it is a smirch on your
class name. But don’t think of it in that way; it’s not your fault
if the laws and the authorities introduce a thief among you. None of
you helped to make him a midshipman. But as I see the indignation on
your faces that such a character should have been a classmate, what
would your feelings be”--and here the commandant’s voice rang out
in intense tones that reached the heart of every midshipman before
him--“what would your feelings be if this thief after stealing Mr.
Bollup’s watch had put it on your chain, so as to have you accused of
the theft? What would your feelings be if you were denounced to the
superintendent in an anonymous letter for being a cheat, for gouging?
But for Mr. Himski, I much fear I would have assisted in having Mr.
Osborn dismissed because of the words the thief cleverly wrote on Mr.
Osborn’s blackboard in Professor Moehler’s section room. And finally
we dismissed Mr. Osborn because of the evil machinations of these
unscrupulous villains.”

The commandant paused for a moment, and then, with evident emotion,
said, looking over to where Ralph stood drinking in his every
word:--“Mr. Osborn, I can but apologize to you for the part in which
I was made a tool of. It is hard for these other young men to have
had a thief for a classmate, but they can have no conception of the
fearful trials you have passed through. Your honor has been called
into question, you have had repeated dastardly attempts made upon you
by an unknown foe, your very roommate; and you actually went through
the form of dismissal. All that I can say, is, that I now know, that
instead of the last, you deserved the first consideration at the hands
of the authorities, and that the unadorned coat sleeve of yours is a
monument to my own lack of discernment; I will say but one thing more;
gentlemen, I can assure you that if cadet officers of your class were
to be made to-morrow, Mr. Osborn would have four stripes where now he
has nothing. Would you like to say anything, Mr. Osborn?”

Ralph arose, his face aglow with happiness. “Thank you, sir,” he
said; “I’m much obliged to you and to Mr. Himski. A year ago I was
worrying about having the right to wear the uniform--I have always been
perfectly satisfied with my position in the battalion, and now that
I’ve got my watch I’m feeling pretty good all around; it was from an
uncle I’ve never seen. It’s an awful nice watch; I’ve wound it up and
it’s going all right; wouldn’t you like to look at it, captain?”

Ralph’s last remark was so utterly inconsequential and seemed so
ridiculous after the intense feelings all had so recently undergone
that it was followed by wild screams of laughter in which the
commandant and later Ralph himself joined. This was a happy relief to
everybody, and for a few moments the room fairly shook with the peals
of laughter that came from everybody present; after this the commandant
said: “Good-night, gentlemen; I am glad everything has ended so
happily.” And he left the room.

He was followed by Himski and Bollup. And the latter said: “May we have
a private talk with you, sir?”

“Certainly; come to my office.”

They both entered with him and remained in earnest consultation for
nearly an hour. When the three left the office together the commandant
said: “Well, we’ll go to the superintendent’s house right away; you’ve
convinced me though I was against it at first as I’m sure he’ll be, but
I’m now in favor of it.”

The superintendent was surprised that after nine o’clock the commandant
and two midshipmen should enter his house, but he received them
cordially nevertheless. After listening for a while the superintendent
expressed emphatic disapproval of the proposition made him, and yet he
was impressed and commenced to ask Bollup some keen personal questions.
That young gentleman had a very uncomfortable time of it for a few
moments, and then, after some more talk, both midshipmen were sent to
their quarters.

“Good gracious, Himski, it’s after eleven o’clock; where in the world
have you been?” demanded Ralph when his roommate entered, long after
taps had sounded.

“Calling on some friends.”

“I’m afraid you’re reported for being out of the building after taps,”
said Ralph much concerned.

“Not this time,” laughed his friend. “I was with the commandant.”

       *       *       *       *       *

At supper formation the next evening, Ralph was in ranks as usual.
The companies were mustered, then aligned, and then, when each cadet
lieutenant stood in front of the center of his company, the battalion
adjutant, Himski, reported to Cadet Lieutenant-Commander Bollup: “Sir,
the battalion is formed.”

“Publish the orders, sir,” replied Bollup.

Ralph was now immensely startled to hear Himski call out, “Midshipman
Osborn, fall out of ranks and report to the battalion adjutant
immediately.”

“What’s up now?” wondered Ralph, yet not worried. He had not the
faintest conception of what was about to happen. He left his place in
ranks and went directly to where Himski was standing, in front of and
facing the battalion. He saluted Himski. The latter motioned Ralph to
one side, and then called out: “Attention to orders.” He unrolled some
papers he had in his hands and read as follows:

  “_Order_:

  “The superintendent accepts the resignation voluntarily offered, as
  cadet lieutenant-commander, by Midshipman Bollup. Midshipman Bollup
  returns to ranks with the entire esteem of the authorities.”

Himski then read another paper.

  “_Order_:

  “Midshipman Ralph Osborn of the first class is appointed cadet
  lieutenant-commander and commander of the battalion of midshipmen,
  vice Bollup, resigned.”

Ralph instantly understood what had been done by his friends, but
he felt dazed and stunned; a mist swam before his eyes and feelings
difficult to control poured from his heart. He was almost unaware of
the little ceremony that now was taking place. As soon as Himski had
read the last order, he and Bollup went to Ralph. Bollup tore off
the braid carrying four stripes on his sleeve. Each braid, specially
prepared for this occasion, was held by but a thread, and in less than
a moment they were pinned to Ralph’s sleeves. Not a word was spoken.
Bollup now saluted in a natural manner, came to an about face, and
marched to the company Ralph had left.

Ralph faced the battalion now as commander where but a moment before
he had been but a private in ranks. He looked at the stripes on his
sleeves. His heart was full of emotion.

“The battalion is ready to be marched to supper, sir,” reported Himski,
in his adjutant voice.

“Give the order, I--I cannot,” replied Ralph brokenly, not trusting
himself to speak further.

“Battalion, fours right, march!” snapped out the adjutant and several
hundred silent, erect young men swung into the march to the mess hall.

Ralph hesitated a moment, then went to the officer-in-charge who had
purposely absented himself when Bollup had pinned his stripes on
Ralph’s sleeves.

“May I absent myself from supper, sir?” he asked, in a husky voice; “I
don’t feel as if I could go into the mess hall to-night.”

“Certainly,” was the reply.

And Cadet Lieutenant-Commander Osborn went to his room, his mind
stirred with conflicting emotions. He had had strange vicissitudes and
marked triumphs at the Academy, but best of all were the friendships he
had made.

He most heartily wished Bollup had kept his stripes; he would have
vehemently protested against this change had he known of it in time,
yet he realized there was nothing now for him to do but accept his
new status. It cannot be said that Ralph took any elation in his
promotion. The year was nearly over; the time was too short for him
to have any effect upon the battalion. Yet, knowing how Bollup prized
these stripes, Ralph was touched to the core at his classmate’s action,
and the realization of what Bollup had given up, not what Ralph had
received (which now he did not value highly), was what affected him. He
had been delighted to get his watch back, but these stripes were but an
empty, valueless honor to him. But as a measure of Bollup’s friendship
and in this respect only, to Ralph they were of enormous value. And
with this striking evidence of that dear friendship Ralph could not but
be very happy.




CHAPTER XXXII RALPH FINDS HIS UNCLE AT LAST


“What part did you play in that crazy scheme?” asked Ralph of Himski,
when the latter returned to his room after supper.

“I didn’t suppose you’d approve, Os,” replied Himski. “I was against it
at first but Bollup was wild; he was bound to do something. And, Os,
he has given you, however little you value it, what he prized most on
earth, his stripes.”

“I know that and the thought of it is everything to me. But how in the
world did he get the commandant and superintendent to do it?”

“That was really simple; these men did it more to ease down their own
consciences than for any other reason; they knew they had treated you
badly. Bollup clinched the matter by reporting himself for Frenching
this year and last also, and told how you prevented him from Frenching
the other night; and he told why you Frenched last year. No official
notice will be taken of the reports he made against himself, but after
all he said no superintendent could have allowed him to hold on to his
stripes. So to give them to you was an easy slide. Now take the thing
quietly and don’t let Bollup know how little you think of getting his
job.”

“All right. I’ll think of what he gave, not what I received. But,
Himski, I can’t express how happy I feel at having such friends; when
the thing happened I couldn’t speak. Well, I’ll not let old Bollup know
the stripes aren’t as precious to me as they were to him--good old Bol!
I tell you, Himski, I have had some hard times here but I don’t regret
one of them. Creelton has gone and there’s nothing that can touch me
now; and we’re going to graduate in less than two weeks; won’t it be
glorious for us to march to the tune of ‘Ain’t I glad to get out of the
Wilderness,’ in our own right?”

As a matter of fact, before the two weeks had finished Ralph did enjoy
his four stripes. Although it was practically an honorary position
for Ralph yet he knew the four stripes signalized his importance to
the officers and the hundreds of visitors now present at formations.
Contented as he had been as a clean sleever he enjoyed giving the few
orders he was called upon to give, and he felt natural and easy in
giving them. And he had the feeling he was in his right place at last;
thus he finally appreciated the four stripes Bollup had given him far
more than he had expected to at first.

Graduation day drew near, and before it came Bollup’s mother and two
sisters had come to Annapolis; Dorothy, though only thirteen years
old, had made such a fuss at being left at home that finally she was
allowed to come.

It was an enthusiastic greeting that met Mrs. Bollup and her two
daughters. “And this is Mr. Himski, of course,” said the warm-hearted
woman, after she had expressed her delight at seeing her “two boys”
again; and Himski was immediately adopted into the family.

“Why, Tom,” exclaimed the observant Dorothy, “I thought you had four
stripes and Ralph had a clean sleeve; how is this? Ralph seems to have
the four stripes and you haven’t anything.”

Bollup colored and looked uneasy but was saved by Ralph.

“Why, Dorothy,” he quickly said, “you know what great friends Tom and I
are; well, he’s generous, and one time, much to my surprise, he handed
them over to me. I guess he got tired of them and thought I might like
to have them for a while.”

“Well, I should have thought you wouldn’t have taken more than two of
them,” pouted Dorothy; “I think you were greedy.”

Mrs. Bollup was delighted with this additional evidence of her son’s
generosity. “It’s just like Tom,” she said.

       *       *       *       *       *

Graduation week was and probably always will be, the most glorious
period of Ralph Osborn’s life. It takes vicissitudes to enable one to
appreciate triumphs, and of both of these Ralph had had full measure.
From the depths of anxiety and misfortune he had viewed what he had
believed to be unattainable heights of happiness. And now, on the eve
of his graduation, he had attained to the pinnacle of all that was
possible to a midshipman.

Every day the midshipmen were drilled in one way or another for the
Board of Visitors, and every afternoon the battalion was drilled at
dress parade. In all of these the cadet lieutenant-commander was a very
important figure and Ralph enjoyed this importance.

He acted as the escort of Gladys, both to his class german and to his
graduation ball. They were full of excited happiness and I judge had a
never ending lot of things to tell one another, though what it was all
about I never knew.

Gladys, dressed in white, was to Ralph the most beautiful vision he had
ever seen.

On graduation day when the class was finally aligned to receive their
graduating diplomas, and the first name called to step forward was
Osborn, cheer after cheer rent the air both from the battalion and from
the assembled spectators.

The President of the United States with one hand tended Ralph his
diploma, giving him a warm clasp with the other. “I know all about you,
Mr. Osborn,” the President said, “and I heartily congratulate you on
this well-deserved graduation. You had the stuff in you to stick it
out, the stuff that wins fights. You’ve started right; keep it up.”

After graduation as Ralph was hurrying to shift into his new officer’s
uniform, he met Captain Waddell. “Well, Mr. Osborn,” said the old sea
dog, “you’re a friend worth helping. I’ve helped many young men in one
way or another but none have reflected such signal honor on my help as
you have. I count the interest I’ve taken in you as one of the best
things I’ve done in my forty years of naval service.”

“Just think what I owe you, captain,” cried Ralph, joyfully; “you’ve
done everything; I would never have graduated but for you, and now I’m
the happiest person in the world.”

“Oh, no, you’re not,” replied the captain; “I know of one who is at
least as happy as you are and because of you.”

“Why, who can it be, captain?” asked Ralph in great surprise.

“One of the best of men; one I’m proud to call friend, your Uncle
George.”

“My Uncle George!” exclaimed Ralph. “Oh, where can I see this dear
uncle? Is he here?”

“Yes, he has been here for several days, has seen you handle the
battalion and saw you graduate at the head of your class this morning.
I believe he’s the proudest, happiest man alive.”

“But why haven’t I seen him? Where is he?”

“Oh, he’s so confoundedly proud he’s going to take the afternoon train
without seeing you. You see he couldn’t mix in the same social set you
would and he’s afraid you’ll be ashamed of his position in life.”

“Ashamed!” exclaimed Ralph indignantly, and then asked determinedly,
“Where can I find him, captain?”

“Room 141 Maryland Hotel,” replied the captain.

Murmuring a hasty good-bye Ralph was off like a shot. He was so eager
that he broke into a run and in a few minutes he had reached the hotel.
Without stopping he ran up-stairs and was soon at a door marked 141.
He knocked firmly, and in reply to a voice within saying, “Come in,”
he threw open the door. Inside the door stood a tall, vigorous looking
man, perhaps about forty-three years old, dressed in blue jacket
uniform. As Ralph entered, he instantly recognized the man before him.
“Hester!” he cried, “my Uncle George! Oh, I’m so glad. Why didn’t you
let me know you were my uncle? I never dreamed it!”

“It isn’t right, Mr. Osborn, that an officer should be related to an
enlisted man.”

“Never call me Mr. Osborn, Uncle George,” cried Ralph, “unless I
displease you. I’m so happy to have found you. And I’m proud of you;
never believe I can have any other sentiment than that of affection and
gratitude for you. Your money helped me to get in the Academy and when
I was dismissed your money sustained me till I was reinstated.”

Uncle and nephew had a long talk. Ralph found his Uncle George a
kindly, high-principled man, his father’s own brother, the nearest
person in all the world to him. Hester was indeed proud of his nephew
and happy in his final triumph and high standing.

The sun was low in the sky when Hester left his nephew, the two bidding
each other most affectionate good-byes.

       *       *       *       *       *

That night was the great ball, given to the graduating class, the
last act of the midshipman’s career at Annapolis. And who are these
tall, dignified young officers, in new long-tailed coats, with golden
shoulder knots and with golden striped trousers coming toward us? Is it
possible they are the short jacketed midshipmen of this morning?

From their erect carriage and brilliant new uniforms the stranger might
imagine they were battle-ship captains. But indeed they were only Ralph
and Bollup and Himski, and despite their gorgeous uniforms we know
them, and we believe we will always find their hearts the same.

We will take our last glimpse at Ralph on his homeward walk with
Gladys. He was to leave in the early morning for San Francisco, there
to take ship for the Philippine Islands where the natives were in
insurrection.

“Gladys,” said Ralph, “Tom gave me voluntarily what he loved most, his
stripes; had I known of it I would have prevented him. Here they are;
they were sewed on Tom’s and my coat sleeves; first, for most of the
year, on his coat and for the last two weeks on mine. I’m going to give
you one set as a keepsake and I’ll keep the other myself.”

“Thank you, Ralph,” returned Gladys, gently; “I will be so glad to have
it and I will treasure it always. It will remind me of Tom and of you.”

       *       *       *       *       *

Transcriber’s Notes:

Footnotes have been moved to the end of each chapter and relabeled
consecutively through the document.

Illustrations have been moved to paragraph breaks near where they are
mentioned.

Punctuation and mathematical notation has been made consistent.

Variations in spelling and hyphenation were retained as they appear in
the original publication, except that obvious typographical errors have
been corrected.

The following change was made:

p. 116: , changed to = (AMB = triangle ABC)








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