An Annapolis First Classman
by Edward L. Beach · English · Gutenberg #40368 · 378,501 chars · public domain (US)
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Title: An Annapolis First Classman
Author: Edward L. Beach
Illustrator: Frank T. Merrill
Release date: July 29, 2012 [eBook #40368]
Most recently updated: October 23, 2024
Language: English
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*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK AN ANNAPOLIS FIRST CLASSMAN ***
[Illustration: cover]
[Illustration: _HE GLANCED AT THE WRITTEN ORDER_]
AN
ANNAPOLIS
FIRST CLASSMAN
_by_
LT. COM. EDWARD L. BEACH
U.S. NAVY
Author of
"AN ANNAPOLIS PLEBE"
"AN ANNAPOLIS YOUNGSTER"
"AN ANNAPOLIS SECOND CLASSMAN"
Illustrated by Frank T. Merrill
THE PENN PUBLISHING
COMPANY PHILADELPHIA
MCMX
[Illustration]
Introduction
This is the fourth and last book of the "Annapolis Series." It has been
the purpose of the author faithfully to portray the conditions in which
our midshipmen live at the Naval Academy. The training given at
Annapolis is regulated by the needs of the Fleet, and the Naval Academy
in all of its departments is entirely directed and controlled by
seagoing naval officers. After the Fleet's world-encircling cruise, many
of the officers attached to it were sent to the Naval Academy to
instruct midshipmen in navigation and electricity and gunnery and
seamanship.
In the navy it is believed that the officer who is fresh from drilling a
twelve-inch turret or a battery of broadside guns at record and battle
target practice, should be well qualified to initiate midshipmen in the
beginnings of naval gunnery. It is for this reason that the training at
Annapolis reflects the needs of the Fleet, and every officer on duty
there has either seen recent sea service or is looking forward to an
early sea assignment.
Stonewell and Robert Drake by name never existed, but the same thoughts
and ambitions that animate them have animated many hundreds of
midshipmen; and incidents similar to those described have happened
countless times. From this point of view these stories are true stories.
The names of their chief characters may be found in no navy list, but
the truth of the Annapolis books does not depend upon that. Stonewell
and Robert Drake have actually lived many times, and to-day are living
at Annapolis.
The author hopes he has presented in this book and its three
predecessors, "An Annapolis Plebe," "An Annapolis Youngster," and "An
Annapolis Second Classman," a fair picture of the life of American
midshipmen; and not only of the naval atmosphere which surrounds them,
but of that inner life which for the time dominates their relations to
each other and to the institution made famous as the alma mater of many
names illustrious in naval history.
EDWARD L. BEACH,
_Lieutenant-Commander, U.S. Navy_.
Contents
I. GLASSFELL, DRAKE AND STONEWELL 9
II. THE COMMANDANT OF MIDSHIPMEN 22
III. A HAPPY SURPRISE 36
IV. ACADEMY LIFE BEGINS 46
V. A MYSTERIOUS CRY 61
VI. THE GATES FORWARD PASS 77
VII. THE WEST POINT GAME 88
VIII. "THE MAN WORE A SLOUCH HAT" 101
IX. ROBERT GETS BAD NEWS 111
X. ROBERT GETS GOOD NEWS 124
XI. "THREE GROANS FOR THE SUPERINTENDENT" 133
XII. ROBERT MAKES A DISCOVERY 142
XIII. HARRY BLUNT IS REBUFFED 155
XIV. A MYSTERY SOLVED 166
XV. STONEWELL RECEIVES A LETTER 181
XVI. BLIGH MAKES A FRIEND 194
XVII. AN ILL-FAVORED, RED-BEARDED ROGUE 205
XVIII. AN OLD COLORED MAN IS IN TROUBLE 217
XIX. THE KIDNAPPERS 227
XX. SIX-POUNDER TARGET PRACTICE 237
XXI. A GOOD SHOT WITH THE SIX-POUNDER 255
XXII. GRICE APPEARS AGAIN 265
XXIII. ROBERT RESIGNS 275
XXIV. IT WAS STONEWELL 287
XXV. JOHN 15:13 298
XXVI. COMMANDER DALTON BECOMES ANGRY 305
XXVII. ROBERT FINALLY ANSWERS 320
XXVIII. "BLIGH, BLIGH, BLIGH!" 334
XXIX. THE END OF A LONG DAY 343
XXX. GRADUATION 350
Illustrations
PAGE
HE GLANCED AT THE WRITTEN ORDER _Frontispiece_
AROUND THE END 68
THE STRANGER THREW OFF HIS HAT 152
HE HALF AROSE FROM HIS SEAT 200
HE SAW TWO DARK FIGURES 272
"THAT WILL DO, GENTLEMEN" 296
IT MUST HAVE BEEN A VERY PRETTY SPEECH 355
An Annapolis First Classman
CHAPTER I
GLASSFELL, DRAKE AND STONEWELL
"Hello, Stone! Hello, Bob! By George, but I'm glad to see you!"
"Hello, Glass, you old sinner, I can just imagine you've led those dear
old aunts of yours a lively life the last two weeks."
"You'll win, Stone, but you ought to get them to tell you about it; ha,
ha, ha! the dear old ladies never dropped once."
Explosively enthusiastic greetings were exchanged between three stalwart
young men in the Union Station, Chicago, on the twentieth of September,
of the year nineteen hundred and something. Passers-by noticed them and
smiled, and in approving accents said, "College boys!" All three were
tall, broad-shouldered, bronzed in face, and possessed a lithesomeness
of movement that betokened health and strength.
Glassfell, Drake and Stonewell were midshipmen on leave from the United
States Naval Academy. It was evident that they had met in the Union
Station by appointment. Glassfell had just arrived from Wisconsin, and
Drake and Stonewell were to leave in two hours for Annapolis.
"You two chaps are martyrs!" exclaimed Glassfell; "here you are giving
up ten days of glorious leave just to go and train for the football
team. Now here I am, cheer leader, head yeller, or whatever you call me,
far more important than either of you, you'll admit, and I'm not due at
Annapolis until October first."
"'Daily News,' last edition," droned a newsboy near by.
"Don't bother me, boy; Chicago news doesn't interest me. Some new
sandbagging on Wabash Avenue, I suppose, and nothing else. Get out."
"A fine cruise, wasn't it, Glass?" remarked Robert Drake. "By George!
I'd had some troubles on my previous cruises, but this went like
clockwork; not a single thing happened to worry me, and I certainly had
troubles enough on my plebe and youngster cruises."
"You did indeed, Bob," remarked Stonewell, "but you'll have to admit you
were fortunate in the wind up. Now Glass, here----"
"'Daily News,' last edition," was shouted close to their ears.
"Stuff that boy. Put a corn-cob down his throat," said Glassfell with an
amused glance at the persistent newsboy. "Say, fellows, wasn't that a
good one I worked on old 'I mean to say'? Ha, ha, ha!"
"Which one, Glass?" asked Robert Drake.
"Oh, the best one, the time I hoisted up two red balls to the masthead
when he was on watch in charge of the deck, during drill period. And
didn't the captain give him the mischief?"
An outburst of wild hilarious laughter greeted this reminiscence, as
evidently a very humorous episode was recalled. In seagoing language two
red balls means that the ship carrying them is not under control; and at
the time referred to by Glassfell the red balls had no business to be
hoisted, and their presence brought down upon Lieutenant-Commander
Gettem, nicknamed "I mean to say" by the midshipmen, a wrathful
reprimand from his captain.
"That was pretty good, Glass," laughed Stonewell, "but you had to own
up, and got sanded well for it."
"'Daily News,' last edition!" screamed a voice interrupting the
midshipmen.
"Look here, boy, how many papers have you to sell?" inquired Glassfell.
"Twenty-five, boss; here's yours, and only one cent."
"All right. I'll buy your twenty-five papers and give you twenty-five
cents besides if you'll make a hundred yard dash for the outside. Give
me your papers; here's fifty cents."
"I'm your man, boss," cried the newsboy, handing over his papers,
grabbing the fifty-cent piece and making a tremendous bolt toward the
exit.
"He's afraid of a recall," laughed Robert. "Say, Glass, are you going to
start a wholesale newspaper business?"
"Let's see what the news of the day is," replied Glassfell, unfolding
one of the papers and laying the others down on a seat.
"Here's an alderman up for graft; a bank cashier has gone wrong; hello!
My heavens, here's a naval war-ship goes to the bottom with all on
board."
"What ship? what ship?" simultaneously cried out Stonewell and Robert,
in affrighted tones.
"The submarine boat 'Holland'! Ha, ha, ha, I got you both that time,
didn't I? You chaps will nab any bait that comes along."
All three laughed heartily. "You're an incorrigible wretch," smiled
Robert; "I shudder at the idea of spending another year with you at the
Academy." But the friendly hug that accompanied these words left no
doubt of the affection Robert bore to the jovial Glassfell.
"By George, fellows, here is an interesting item, 'New cadet officers at
the Naval----'"
"You don't sell me again to-day, Glass," grinned Robert. "You'll be
giving yourself five stripes and Stone a second class buzzard."
"Pick up a paper and read for yourself," cried out Glassfell excitedly.
"Farnum gets five stripes!" Glassfell read no further, but with an
expression of intense disgust threw the paper down and stamped on it.
Stonewell and Robert were now eagerly reading the paper. "Cadet
Commander, commanding the Brigade of Midshipmen, Farnum," read Robert.
"Cadet Lieutenant-Commanders, commanding first and second battalions,
respectively, Stonewell and Sewall; Cadet Lieutenant and Brigade
Adjutant, Ryerson. Cadet Lieutenant, commanding first company,
Blair----"
A look of blank astonishment mingled with disdain was to be seen on
Robert's face. "Well, Stone," he said, "the officers have done it again,
and I guess they can be relied upon to make chumps of themselves as
regularly as they assign the brigade officers. You should be our cadet
commander, Stone, our five striper; you know it, every midshipman in the
brigade knows it, the officers ought to know it! You are number one man
in the class, the leader in Academy athletics, head and shoulders above
us all. And here they've picked out a regular 'snide,' a sneak, and have
given him the place that belongs to you." Robert spoke passionately; he
was intensely disappointed.
"You are entirely wrong about Farnum, Bob," remarked Stonewell quietly;
"he's a far better man than you give him credit for. You don't
understand Farnum; he'll do credit to his five stripes. I'm entirely
satisfied with my four stripes; to be cadet lieutenant-commander is as
much as I have any right to expect."
"You know why you don't get five stripes, don't you?" asked Robert
vehemently; "it's because you took French leave a year ago, and reported
yourself for it! And didn't Farnum jump ship at the same time? Only he
didn't get spotted for it. You reported yourself for the purpose of
explaining my deliberate neglect of duty last year. You were reduced to
ranks as a result and Farnum was then given your position as acting
senior cadet officer of the summer detail. If he'd had any sense of
fitness he would have reported himself rather than have accepted it;
that was only a temporary affair, however, and didn't amount to much;
but because of that same report it's outrageous that you should be
shoved out of the five stripes you've earned by a man who was equally
guilty, but didn't have the manhood to report himself when you did."
"It's rotten," remarked Glassfell. "Well, Stone, old chap," he
continued, "I'm sorry; everybody will be; we all thought you had a cinch
on five stripes. But I wouldn't be in Farnum's shoes; everybody will
know he is a fake. But as long as they didn't make Stonewell cadet
commander I'm rather surprised they didn't give the job to me."
"Look here, Bob," said Stonewell, "I have been hoping you would get
three stripes--but I'm sorry not to see you down for anything."
"That's too bad; isn't Bob down for anything?" inquired Glassfell.
"Not even for a second class buzzard, the lowest thing in cadet rank at
the Naval Academy," replied Stonewell.
"I'm sorry to hear that," remarked Glassfell, much concerned. "Bob ought
to have three stripes, anyway."
"Don't you worry, fellows," said Robert, cheerily, "I haven't expected a
thing and am not a bit disappointed. A midshipman cannot live down a
'deliberate neglect of duty' report in one year."
"Yes, Bob, I know, but I had hoped that your conduct at the fire a year
ago and that remarkable trip of yours last June would----"
"Now, Stone, please don't; you know that is not to be talked about."
"Of course, but at the same time in spite of that report you ought to
get three stripes."
"That's right," commented Glassfell. "The officers only see one side of
a midshipman's character; here I am, another martyr to their ignorance;
I'm one of the best men in the class, the band master thinks so, and
he's the grandest thing I've ever seen at Annapolis; and I'm a private
in ranks for another year. But perhaps this report isn't authentic;
let's see, the paper says that it is likely that these recommendations
will be made to the superintendent by the commandant; the former is
away, will not arrive at Annapolis for two days yet--hurrah, I may still
get five stripes."
"Stone, I still hope you may command the brigade of midshipmen our last
year," said Robert thoughtfully. "This newspaper account does not
pretend to be official; it says 'it has leaked out' that the commandant
of midshipmen's recommendation of the assignment of cadet officers of
the brigade will be so and so. Now the superintendent evidently has not
seen these recommendations, so they are not as yet finally decided upon.
Probably this newspaper list is correct in the main, but it is not
final; the superintendent is away on leave and has not yet acted; he has
not even seen the commandant's recommendations. If either the
superintendent or the commandant were to know that Farnum had been
guilty of the same offense which is now to deprive you of the five
stripes you otherwise, by every count, had earned, you would never be
set aside in favor of a man equally guilty but not so square. It's
shameful, that's what it is."
Robert boiled over with angry thoughts. Strong feelings dominated his
expressive features, and it was with difficulty that he controlled
himself. His classmate Stonewell was at once his joy and pride, and he
loved him with brotherly affection. Stonewell in his studies towered
above all of his classmates; he was the leader in athletics, captain of
the football team, and captain of the Academy crew. He was class
president and his own class and all midshipmen confidently expected he
would be cadet commander in his last year at the Naval Academy.
But Robert Drake more than wished for it. Until this moment he had not
realized how he longed for it. In the preceding three years at Annapolis
Robert had had perhaps more than his own share of troubles, and in them
all Stonewell had been to him a mountain of strength and a deep well of
affectionate wisdom.
"Farnum for our five striper! Faugh! The thought of it makes me sick!
I'll not stand for it," cried Robert.
"How can you help it, Bob?" queried Glassfell, himself much
disappointed, though not nearly so vehement as Robert.
"I'll tell you what I'm going to do," almost shouted the latter; "Stone
and I will be in Annapolis the day after to-morrow, and I'm going
straight to the commandant and convince him that he's made a big bust.
That's what I'm going to do!"
"No, you're not, Bob," said Stonewell, quietly, yet determinedly;
"you'll do nothing of the kind. The commandant isn't going to give me
five stripes just because you want me to have them. You've had some
troubles at the Academy, partly due perhaps to a sort of unrestrained
impetuosity. Sometimes you are apt to mix up in matters that other
people don't admit concern you. You'll do me more harm than good if
you're not careful; and as a friend of mine I demand you do nothing
whatever about this matter."
Robert knew that Stonewell meant exactly what he said, yet he could not
give in at once. "Look here, Stone," he doggedly maintained, "some one
ought to do this, and I'm the man. Why don't you wish me to?"
"I've given you one good reason, Bob, and I'll give you another. It
wouldn't be fair to Farnum."
"It wouldn't be fair to Farnum!" ejaculated Robert. "It wouldn't be fair
to Farnum," he again repeated, in astonished accents. "Will you please
tell me why it would be unfair to that sneak? How could it be unfair to
him for me to make a plain statement of facts to the commandant, a
statement that would prevent Farnum from being put into a high position
which is utterly undeserved?"
"I'll tell you, Bob; to begin with you've made a mistake about Farnum;
he's not at all the poor character, the sneak, you think him to be. You
don't know him. You've good reason to know how unfair it is to be
misunderstood. Your action would be particularly unfair to Farnum
because the first thing he will do when he gets to Annapolis will be to
go to the commandant and tell him just what you have said you intended
doing."
"You've a better opinion of Farnum than I have, Stone," rejoined Robert,
shortly. "If he does that I'll apologize to him. But if he
doesn't--well, he'll have a mighty uncomfortable year, in spite of his
five stripes, that's all I've got to say."
CHAPTER II
THE COMMANDANT OF MIDSHIPMEN
Drake and Stonewell reached Washington the next morning, and the
following morning took a train bound for Annapolis. They were ahead of
the yearly rush of midshipmen returning from September leave; members of
the Naval Academy football team are expected to sacrifice part of their
precious vacation in order to commence football practice early. Hardly
were they aboard their train when a tall, fine-looking young man, of
perhaps twenty-one or twenty-two years, approached them. In his hurried
glance at Robert and Stonewell one might have seen an expression of
pleasure combined with uncertainty, the pleasure when looking at
Stonewell, the uncertainty when his gaze rested momentarily upon Robert.
"How do you do, Stonewell?" he said, in a rather precise way, extending
his hand to him. "I'm glad to see you and Drake; have you seen any
others of the football squad?"
"Hello, Farnum, how are you, old chap? I'm real glad to see you," said
Stonewell, heartily. "No, I haven't seen any midshipmen but you yet."
"How are you, Drake?" continued Farnum, rather pointedly, and stood with
hand outstretched toward Drake. Apparently the latter did not see
Farnum's hand; he made no effort to take it, but with his own right hand
he touched his hat and said: "Hello, Farnum." Farnum's hand dropped to
his side, and he said impulsively, "Why won't you shake hands with me,
Drake? I would like to be friendly with you, and I don't know why we
shouldn't be friends. Perhaps you are thinking of the time when most of
us misjudged you, a matter that no one has more regretted than I have."
"Farnum," said Robert, "you remember our second class summer, don't you,
when I was reported for deliberate neglect of duty?"
"Surely," answered Farnum.
"And you remember why I neglected my duty? I was on as 'midshipman in
charge of floor' when you and Stone and Pete and some others were
Frenching, and I left my post so as not to have to report you all."
"I remember that very well indeed," rejoined Farnum; "what of it?"
"Stone and the rest of them, except you, reported themselves for the
purpose of helping me out, as much as they could, of the trouble I was
in. Stone was broken as acting senior cadet officer, and you, guilty of
the same offense, were given his place. I hope you enjoyed it." Robert
spoke warmly.
"Look here, Drake, suppose you let me ask you a few questions. When you
left your post that night was it to avoid reporting me? Would you have
deliberately neglected your duty for me, or was it to benefit your own
particular chums, Stone, Pete and Glass?"
"I'd do more for them than for anybody else at the Academy."
"Of course you would; I'd blame you if you wouldn't. But you wouldn't
have done it for me alone, would you?"
"I don't know--I'd got sick of reporting classmates. I hope I won't have
to face that question again."
"Drake, I wouldn't either have asked or expected you to do that for me.
I didn't report myself because you didn't do it for me; I took my chance
and was not reported. It was all right for Stone to report himself if he
wanted to. As for being shoved into his position as acting senior cadet
officer, that didn't amount to a hill of beans, and you know it. It was
a very temporary matter, and it didn't make any difference to Stone or
me or you or anybody else. At the same time I don't mind saying that I
was sorry at the time I supplanted Stone. I'm also sorry you have seen
fit to brood over this matter. I suppose I can get along without your
friendship, though I was perfectly sincere in offering you mine."
"Do you know who's going to have five stripes?" asked Robert sharply.
"Why Stone, of course--I haven't seen the stripe list yet, but I don't
imagine anybody else will be considered for that job."
Without saying anything more, Robert took a newspaper clipping from his
pocket and handed it to Farnum. Stonewell, who had been silent during
the talk between his two classmates, now said, offering his hand to the
latter, "I congratulate you, Farnum; I'm sure you'll have a good
brigade; you may depend on my helping you to the best of my ability."
Though Farnum was ordinarily a very self-contained young man, his eyes
bulged when he saw himself gazetted as cadet commander. He hesitated for
a moment, seemingly lost in perturbed thought; then turning to
Stonewell, he took his hand and said, "Stone, this is very kind of you,"
and without another word passed out of the car.
"Bob," said Stonewell rather sharply, "I have a request to make of you,
and if you are the friend I take you to be you'll heed it. I want you to
drop this matter of five stripes. You'll make a nuisance of yourself and
will make me ridiculous. I want you to promise me you will not go around
and tell people Farnum shouldn't have five stripes and that I should."
"Stone, I boil over every time I think about it; I can't help it. It
just makes me mad to see Farnum smirking and grinning, and usurping the
place that belongs to you. But I don't think he'll enjoy his job,
feeling in his heart that everybody knows he's an impostor. The idea of
his saying to you 'this is very kind of you.' I'm disgusted!"
"Well, Bob, don't think about him, and as you feel so strongly try to
avoid talking about the matter. Let's talk of something else. The entire
squad should arrive by to-morrow, and we ought to get in some good
practice----"
Here Stonewell received a violent interruption. A sudden lurch of the
train threw a passing youth right on top of the two midshipmen. The
young man immediately recovered himself and then broke out into a hearty
peal of laughter. "I beg your pardon, I'd no idea I was so clumsy. You
chaps are going to Annapolis, aren't you? So am I. I'm a midshipman."
The speaker seemed to take it for granted that he was both important and
interesting. He was full of apparent good nature and friendliness and
wanted to talk; he was about nineteen years old, and was tall and
strongly built. A great shock of tawny yellow hair surmounted a rather
handsome, freckled, healthy face. He had a thick neck and his shoulders
were heavy. His appearance betokened great good nature, and there were
health, strength and quickness in every movement.
"You don't look like a midshipman," said Robert shortly.
"Oh," said the young man with a laugh, "I've only been one for twenty
days; I was sworn in September first, and then got leave, a grandmother
died and the estate had to be settled--ha, ha, ha,--any excuse would
have done--but I'm going to go back to-day for football. I know
something about the game, and expect to make the team from the start. My
name is Henry Bligh. What are yours?"
"Young man," said Stonewell, in forbidding tones, "after you've been a
midshipman for a while you will notice that other midshipmen are a bit
slow in proclaiming who they are to strangers in public places. You are
excused."
A blank expression spread itself over Mr. Bligh's face. He looked from
Stonewell to Robert. Neither took any further notice of him, and in a
hesitating way he walked to the rear of the car.
"A bit fresh, isn't he, Stone?" smiled Robert.
"Yes, Bob; like you and I were when we first came here, and like most
midshipmen are at first. He's a well-built plebe, and looks like good
football material. Well, here's old Annapolis once more--what a pleasure
it is to get back to the old town."
The train slowed down and stopped and the passengers impatiently crowded
to the door, anxious to be off.
"Hello," exclaimed Robert, "Farnum must be in a hurry; he's taken a
carriage; I'm glad I'm not in a hurry, for I'm busted, as usual."
Farnum had jumped into a carriage and gave directions to be driven to
Bancroft Hall; on his arrival there he went immediately to the
commandant.
"I'm glad to see you, Mr. Farnum," said the commandant, greeting him
warmly. "I suppose you've come back early for football practice?"
"Yes, sir." Farnum paused for a moment and then began abruptly,
"Captain, I have here a list of midshipmen which it is said you are to
recommend as cadet officers. I am slated, according to this list, to be
cadet commander. I wish permission to speak to you frankly about this."
"Go ahead, Mr. Farnum. Those are the recommendations I shall submit to
the superintendent within an hour. The list was not made public by me;
it leaked out somehow; but I guess no harm has been done. But it will
not be final until the superintendent approves it. He has just returned
from leave, and so has not acted upon it."
"Will you please tell me frankly why I am recommended to be cadet
commander, and Mr. Stonewell is not?"
"This is unusual, Mr. Farnum, but as you are recommended for the highest
cadet rank I don't mind being perfectly frank. Mr. Stonewell is number
one in your class, and in pretty nearly everything at the Academy. The
summer cruise officers and the ordnance and seamanship and discipline
officers have recommended that he be made cadet commander; and you were
recommended pretty nearly unanimously to be the senior cadet
lieutenant-commander. But last summer Mr. Stonewell committed a most
serious breach of Academy regulations. He took French leave one night."
"Is that the only reason he doesn't get five stripes, sir?"
"Frankly, yes."
"Then, sir, I must report I was also guilty, at the same time, of the
same offense. Mr. Stonewell and all the others of the party, except
myself, reported themselves for being absent, for the purpose of helping
Mr. Drake. I didn't at the time feel called upon to do so, though I have
since keenly wished I had. You can see, sir, it will be impossible for
me to hold five stripes with any degree of self-respect. My classmates
know all the circumstances. I would feel that I was an impostor and my
classmates would have contempt for me. I could never have the respect
nor exert the moral authority that should go with five stripes."
"Mr. Farnum, I'm entirely surprised. You should have reported yourself
last summer."
"Yes, sir, but as I didn't do so then I must now."
"Of course; however questionable your notions of last summer were your
present action is commendable. Well, Mr. Farnum, you will hardly get
five stripes, but, I assure you, you have my entire respect.
Good-morning, sir," and Farnum was bowed out.
"By George," reflected the commandant, "that young man has a sense of
duty; he's pointed right. I shouldn't wonder but what it would be a good
thing to call in the leading midshipmen of a class before cadet officers
are assigned and talk it over with them. Well, I think the best thing I
can do about this list is to recommend Stonewell for the brigade
commander and Farnum for command of the first battalion. They will
simply shift places and the other recommendations will not be
disturbed."
After making this change in the list the commandant left his office and
was soon with the superintendent, Rear-Admiral Wentworth. After a
cordial greeting and some preliminary talk the commandant, Commander
Dalton, said: "Admiral, the most pressing thing I have is to get your
approval for the assignment of the cadet officers. I have the
recommendations here; I am entirely satisfied we'll have the brigade of
midshipmen well officered this year."
"Let me have your list," said the superintendent, reaching out for it.
"I see you have recommended Mr. Stonewell for cadet commander. Hum. I
had almost decided to put another young man in that position, but I
think I'll let that stand. Farnum and Sewall are to be the cadet
lieutenant-commanders. Well, let that go. Ryerson, senior cadet
lieutenant; he'll make an ideal brigade adjutant. Pass him; but where
does my young friend come in?"
"Who is he, admiral? What's his name?" queried Commander Dalton.
The superintendent did not reply, but read the list over hurriedly, and
then said, impatiently, "Why, Dalton, his name doesn't figure here at
all, but I can fix that easily; he goes in right after Ryerson, and will
be cadet lieutenant, commanding the first company of midshipmen."
The admiral seized a pen, interpolated a name between Ryerson and Blair,
and then signed the roster of cadet officers. He handed this to the
commandant, saying, "Dalton, Mr. Drake will command the first company;
shove everybody after him on your list down a peg."
"Why, admiral," remonstrated the commandant, "Mr. Drake isn't entitled
to this; it is true he was unanimously recommended by all but the
discipline officers to be cadet lieutenant, but he most deliberately
neglected his duty when he was a second classman when on a special
detail. He is a very attractive young man, but we cannot forget such a
serious blot as that."
The superintendent smiled. "Dalton," he said, "I was here on duty
twenty-five years ago, when I was a lieutenant, in the department of
seamanship."
"Yes, sir, I well remember your being here, for I was at that time here
also, as a midshipman."
"Well, one year I was among those detailed to make the recommendation
for new cadet officers. There was one midshipman, high in his class, a
splendid fellow, that would have had high cadet office except he was
constantly kicking over the regulations. He was the leader of every mad
excursion that occurred within these walls; his exuberance of spirits
brought him continual trouble. So when we came to make our
recommendations we pursed our lips and passed over the midshipman I'm
speaking of. We made a mistake I've regretted ever since. Well, that
midshipman became an officer that the whole navy ever since has been
proud of, and when I was ordered here as superintendent I asked the Navy
Department to send him here as commandant. By the way, his name is
Dalton."
Commander Dalton became very red in the face, and then in a husky voice
much affected said, "Admiral, I'd no idea you had this opinion of me--I
can't express my feelings; you have touched them deeply. I am glad Mr.
Drake is to be cadet lieutenant. I'll have the list copied and published
this afternoon."
CHAPTER III
A HAPPY SURPRISE
Robert and Stonewell spent the first day of their return in getting
settled and in seeing the football coaches and talking about the
football material of the new fourth class. A number of the regular
players had already returned, and the afternoon train brought in about
twenty midshipmen who had been in the squad the previous year, all of
whom were now eager to commence practice.
"We'll start in to-morrow, fellows, good and hard," said Stonewell; "be
on the field at eight in the morning; we'll get the whole fourth class
out later, after they've finished their morning drill, and we'll size up
and pick out the likely ones and give them a tryout. Come on, Bob, let's
go to quarters. Come along with us, Farnum, if you're walking that way."
The three walked toward Bancroft Hall together. "What do you think of
the fourth class, Stone?" asked Farnum. "Are there any good men in it?"
"There are indeed, I should say, from just looking at them, but we will
know better to-morrow, after we've given them a try on the field.
There's a plebe named Bligh who has told me he expects to make the
team."
Farnum laughed. "He told me the same thing. I hope he'll make good; if
he does we'll pardon his freshness. What do you hear of West Point? No
midshipman now at Annapolis has ever seen the Academy beat West Point at
football. George! I do hope we'll win; we ought to, we have twice as
many men here as there are at West Point."
"It would seem so. And yet when we had many less midshipmen than there
were cadets at West Point we used to beat them right along, and since we
have had more West Point has beaten us. You can depend on one thing,
both academies will have strong teams this year and both will make
strenuous efforts in the great battle to be fought in Philadelphia next
fall. I hope you'll make the team this year, Farnum; you tried hard
enough last year," added Stonewell kindly.
"I'll get it if desperate work on my part will bring it to me."
Neither Farnum nor Robert addressed remarks directly to one another, and
after a while the three midshipmen had reached the steps leading to
Bancroft Hall.
"Let's see if there are any new orders posted," suggested Robert, and
the three young men directed their steps toward the bulletin-board. In
an instant Robert set up a great shout. "Hooray," he cried, "Stonewell
has five stripes." Robert had looked no further than the head of the
list and was wild with unexpected happiness. Then he suddenly grabbed
Farnum by the arm and said: "Stone told me that I wasn't fair to you;
that you were a better man than I took you to be; that the first thing
you would do when you got to Annapolis would be to go to the commandant
and report yourself for that affair of last summer. Did you do that?"
Farnum looked pleased. "Yes, Drake, I did, but it makes me feel mighty
good that Stone thought well enough of me to predict that I would. I'd
rather have that confidence on his part than five stripes, any day of
the week."
"Farnum, I'm not as wise as old Stone; I apologize to you for my unkind
judgment and for not taking your hand in the train. I hope you will
forgive me and accept my friendship," and a warm handclasp and a happy
reconciliation followed.
"Why don't you chaps read the rest of this list, and see who the
remaining cadet officers are?" asked Stonewell.
"They're just the same as in the list we saw published, aren't they?"
queried Robert.
"Well, Farnum gets the first battalion----"
"Good, I'm delighted," burst out Robert.
"They've a good man commanding the first company, haven't they?"
continued Stonewell.
"Yes, Blair is one of the best men in the class; he'll make a splendid
three striper; he----"
"Oh, it isn't Blair; take a look for yourself, Bob."
Robert glanced at the written order assigning the brigade officers.
"Drake, cadet lieutenant, commanding first company."
Robert's heart commenced to thump, the blood rushed to his head and he
felt a surging of happiness within that seemed almost overwhelming. He
was like a thirsty man in a desert unexpectedly finding water. Until
this moment he had never known how much cadet rank meant to him.
"Oh, Stonewell," he cried, "I can't believe it; isn't it likely to be a
mistake?"
"Not a bit of it. The superintendent's name is signed to it. This is
better news to me than the five stripes, even," rejoined Stonewell.
"Bob, I'm pleased beyond expression."
"I'm delighted, Bob," cried Farnum.
It was indeed a happy trio that congratulated each other and tried to
realize their good fortune.
"Come on, Bob," said the practical Stonewell at last, "let's go to our
room and straighten it up a bit. Will you come along, Farnum?"
"No, I've my own room to fix up. Bob, old chap, you're my senior three
striper, and I'm ever so glad of it," and Farnum's expressive eyes
confirmed this feeling.
Once in their room Robert was in no hurry to do anything but talk.
Boisterous jubilance exuded from his every movement and every
expression. "Stone, the first company is going to win the flag this
year," he suddenly exclaimed. "We're going to have the best drilled, the
best all around company of the brigade. Just keep your eye on the first
company this year, old fellow."
"Bully for you, Bob, I believe you'll win it," replied Stonewell. "Now I
wonder," he continued with a laugh, "if you have already decided which
pretty girl you will ask to present the flag to your company after you
have won it."
Robert's face reddened, and then he said, smiling happily, "We'll talk
about that later."
The young men now busied themselves in unpacking their trunks and
stowing their clothes in their wardrobes, placing aside their civilian
clothing to be sent to the basement. After this was finished they
commenced to talk. "This is a fine room, Stone," commented Robert.
"Here, out of this window, is Chesapeake Bay, and from the other we can
look over at the Armory across the lawns, and into the city of
Annapolis. I tell you, it's worth while to room with the five striper.
And it's worth while to be a five striper, too. You can visit during
study hours, you can come and go as you please; no officer would ever
think of questioning the cadet commander. You'll have a good brigade,
Stone; discipline here depends pretty much on the cadet officers, and
every one of us will do his level best that your brigade shall be the
best of our time."
"That's right, Bob, we'll all do our best. We'll try to make every man
feel that what he does is important. If all the units are earnest the
grand result is bound to be satisfactory."
"Stone, you and I are the best of friends, aren't we?"
"That's been my idea, Bob, for several years."
"Well, I've been thinking it's surprising that in spite of our intimate
friendship I should know so little of your family; you know all about
mine."
"Why, Bob, what's put that into your head. You've been to my home in
Chicago and have met my people--and they think everything of you."
"Well, it just came over me that you never speak of them. Do you
remember three years ago, at about this time, how you Frenched from the
'Santee' and how I followed you out into Annapolis, and how Captain
Blunt caught us and reported us?"
"I do indeed; pretty hard luck, wasn't it? Say, Captain Blunt is a fine
fellow, isn't he? I've just read that his ship, the 'New Orleans,' now
on the Asiatic station, is to come home in a few months. I trust his
hopeful son will not be bilged by that time; that young man is in
constant danger of getting into trouble." Stonewell picked up his cap
and continued, "I'm going down the corridor; I'll be back in a little
while."
"Hold on, Stone, I want to talk about that time we Frenched. Now I've
never asked you any particulars; you told me you had to go out to see a
brother who was in some terrible trouble, and you've never said a word
about him since--and I've never asked you. Now can't you tell me
something about him, Stone? It isn't mere idle curiosity, but you are
so much in my thoughts that I can't help but be interested in your
brother. Is he like you?"
Stonewell sat down, saying: "Bob, you were very good to me at that time
and were most considerate then and have been ever since in not asking
questions. I went out that night to see my brother Frank. Frank is
entirely unlike me in character, though people say we resemble one
another very much in appearance; from his earliest boyhood he has
constantly been getting into scrapes, and some of these have been
serious. He is wild and impulsive. Frank wouldn't intentionally do a low
or a wrong thing, but has done some crazy acts which have resulted
badly.
"Now, the day I Frenched, when you followed me, I had received word that
Frank had passed a forged check, and the same day I learned he was
hiding in Annapolis; I was beside myself. You see I didn't know but what
if it was true. Well, it came out all right. Frank hadn't passed a bad
check, but an older man with whom he spent much time had, and Frank's
name was brought in. He was badly scared; he was only sixteen at the
time, and he came here to me. You see there was no real occasion for his
being scared and coming here or for my being so upset. But I didn't know
how bad it was and I was nearly crazy until the next morning, when I
received word that everything was all right. Still, it isn't a very
pleasant recollection, and I have never felt inclined to talk about it.
Now, Bob, I think I've answered your question. Do you want to know
anything more about Frank?"
"Yes, where is he now?"
"He's a sophomore at Princeton," returned Stonewell.
"Well, you are the greatest fellow, Stone; if I had a brother at
Princeton I couldn't help but talk about it; all my friends here would
know it."
Stonewell smiled. "Come on, Bob," he said, picking up his cap again.
"Let's go out and see what fellows have come back. The entire squad
should be here by this time."
CHAPTER IV
ACADEMY LIFE BEGINS
The next morning the returned football squad were all out on the
athletic field, and everybody was busy with preliminary practice in
passing, kicking, tackling the dummy and running with the ball. At
eleven o'clock the entire fourth class were assembled on the field. Each
one of these three hundred young men was looked at and questioned as to
previous football experience, and about forty of them were advised to
come out for practice. Of these forty, ten appeared to be likely
candidates and were told to find football uniforms, and to practice for
the time being with the squad. The most promising of these ten was
Bligh, and this promise did not suffer from excessive modesty on the
part of Mr. Bligh.
"Oh, yes, I can play football--a little," he said, with a smile that
intended to convey the idea that "the little" was in reality a great
deal.
"Where have you played?" asked Stonewell.
"Oh, two years on the University of Minnesota's team, and before that at
St. Paul High School," drawled Mr. Bligh.
"What have you played?"
"Quarter, half and end. Look up the 'St. Paul Pioneer Press's' All
Northwestern team for last year; I guess you'll find they know who I am
out there, mister."
"We'll give you a chance to show what you can do, Mr. Henry Bligh. Now
take a ball and punt for a while."
It wasn't long before Stonewell said: "That fellow knows football; he's
a find. We need a good quarter and will try him for it. You can see by
the way he handles the ball that he's an old hand at it. But I don't
like his manners, though we'll forget that if he plays good football.
He's a good deal of a brag."
"Good-morning, Mr. Drake," said a pleasant voice behind Robert. The
latter turned around and then enthusiastically cried:
"Hello, Sexton, I'm glad to see you back. I hope you'll make it a go
this time. Why have you those togs on?"
"I'm going to try for the squad," replied Sexton.
"Look here, Sexton, take my advice and don't go into football; math
comes hard to you, and football takes up a lot of time on one hand and
tires you out; makes it hard to study, on the other. Now you don't want
to bilge again, and you don't want to take up anything that will
interfere with your studies." Sexton had failed in his studies and had
been dropped from the Academy in consequence the previous year.
"I want to play," replied Sexton, "and if I get low in my studies and it
is known I play football the instructors will help me out; will give me
easy subjects and high marks."
"Not unless you're a star player. You'd better give it up, Sexton.
Hello, Blunt," Robert continued to another young man who just came up,
"so you're out for football, too, are you?"
"You bet, and I'm going to make quarter on the first team, too. Last
year's quarter graduated in June, and I'm the boy to take his place."
"Do you see that plebe over there, kicking the ball?" interrupted
Stonewell, who, while watching different players, had half listened to
the talk going on about him.
"That fellow with a thick bunch of hair, that one who has just kicked?"
"Yes, watch him a bit. He knows the game; he has played quarter on
Minnesota's team. You'll have to get up and dust to beat that fellow out
of quarter-back."
"Do you think I'm going to let a plebe beat me?" cried out Third
Classman Blunt, indignantly. "I'll stand him on his head. I'll----"
"Blunt, leave the football field immediately and turn in your clothes,"
interposed Stonewell, sharply. "I'll be in my room at half-past seven
to-night if you care to discuss with me your future conduct on the
football field."
"Mr. Stonewell, I'm not going off the field. I didn't mean
anything--I--I----" stammered the dismayed Blunt.
"Is your delay in obeying my order due to ignorance or insubordination?"
demanded Stonewell severely. Blunt had been somewhat insolent in his
manner to Stonewell, and was being disciplined on the spot.
Without another word Harry Blunt turned and slowly left the field.
"Stone, aren't you a little hard on him?" asked Robert.
"Purposely so, Bob; it's the only kind of treatment he understands. He's
an irrepressible youngster, well meaning, but it's best in dealing with
him to temper justice with cruelty. He'll be around to-night in a
contrite spirit with sincere promises to be good, and to-morrow he'll be
on the field again and he'll play for all that's in him. He'll be wild
to beat that plebe, and this lesson will be good for him."
Blunt did as Stonewell predicted he would, and was out on the field next
day. Two teams were formed and at the end of each day's practice these
were lined up against each other and a fierce scrimmage occurred. Robert
Drake was put at right end of the first team; opposing him was Farnum.
Stonewell played left tackle; Bligh was quarter-back of the first team,
Blunt quarter of the second. These positions were subject to constant
change, and many midshipmen were tried in different positions. A common
spirit animated them. First a winning team must be developed, and a
winning team meant but one thing; it meant West Point's defeat. After
that each player was anxious either to hold his own place on the first
team or by superior playing on the second team to earn a place on the
first. Bligh sprang into immediate popularity because he played well
from the start. Harry Blunt did not have Bligh's previous experience,
but gave promise of developing into a good quarter-back.
Robert Drake found Farnum a formidable opponent. The latter played with
an impetuosity and spirit that took no heed of possible injury, and
before October first he was regularly playing on the first team, much to
his satisfaction. The midshipmen of the football squad by October first
had had much exercise and were pretty well hardened; most of them were
old players, and in the first real game, against Lehigh, the Naval
Academy team played with a dash and spirit that delighted the hearts of
hundreds of midshipmen on the bleachers as well as scores of officers.
By this time everybody, midshipmen and officers, had returned from
leave, and in a day Academy life had settled down to its regular
routine. One day was allowed the midshipmen to get ready for the year's
work, and the next day midshipmen were marching to recitations and
drills with monotonous regularity.
The first formation of the brigade was a thrilling moment to Robert
Drake. The warning bugle blew and eight hundred midshipmen scampered to
their places in ranks, laughing and talking, some in desperate efforts
to "beat the bugle." With the last blast of that unmusical instrument
came complete quiet; then in front of each of the twelve companies into
which the midshipmen were divided was to be seen a young man rapidly
calling his company roll; and as names were called vociferous "heres"
were to be heard coming from all parts of the long line of midshipmen;
when the midshipman in front of the first company on the extreme right
had finished calling his roll, he came to an about face, and saluted an
impassive midshipman, his company commander, Cadet Lieutenant Drake.
"First company, three absent, sir," reported First Petty Officer Peters.
"Take your post, sir," ordered his captain, Cadet Lieutenant Drake.
First Petty Officer Peters smartly stepped off to the right of the
company, Cadet Lieutenant Drake at the same time going to the company's
left. Down the line could be heard shouts of different company officers,
aligning their companies. And then the midshipmen of the first company
heard a ringing order, not too loud, but in a tone that before the end
of the year became entirely familiar to them and in which each man
learned to have entire trust.
"First company, left step, march. Company halt. Left dress. Back in the
centre, up on the right, carry it along, back extreme right. Steady.
Front." Each of the twelve companies had been similarly aligned by its
cadet lieutenant, and the brigade, stretching along the terrace for over
five hundred feet, was now as straight as a taut string.
In front of the brigade, facing it, all alone, stood a tall, erect,
manly-looking midshipman, entirely self-possessed, apparently not
carried away by the distinguished position he occupied. Triumphant
feeling must have had a place in his heart, but of this there was no
external evidence.
Such formations as these occur innumerable times in the midshipmen's
career; they are held before every meal, before every drill, and on many
other occasions; and each time every midshipman at the Academy is
accounted for.
Six hundred and sixty-five permanent regulations, besides special
orders, control the lives and actions of each of the eight hundred
midshipmen at our national Naval School. There are many officers on duty
there for instruction purposes, and a few have special disciplinary
duties concerned with the inspection and regulation of the conduct of
the midshipmen. But it is only by the effective coƶperation of the cadet
officers that discipline is maintained. The commandant inspects the
midshipmen and their quarters Sunday morning; the lieutenant-commander
on duty for the day as "officer-in-charge" makes several inspections
during his twenty-four hours' time; but the cadet officers have
multifarious disciplinary duties over midshipmen in their control, and
as stated, it is the efficient execution of these duties by the cadet
officers and the carrying out by them of the commandant's and
officer-in-charge's orders, that largely controls the actions and
conduct of individual midshipmen.
Robert Drake realized all this; what midshipman does not who has been at
the Naval Academy for three years? And now came to him, as comes to all
cadet officers, a determination to do his part with all the ability he
possessed. He was indeed happy to be cadet lieutenant, and was proud of
the three stripes on each sleeve that indicated that rank. As cadet
lieutenant he had many daily routine inspections and reports to make and
was assisted in these by two cadet officers, a cadet junior lieutenant
and a cadet ensign, and by eight petty officers, a number of the latter
being second classmen.
"Well, Stone," Robert remarked as they commenced their studies, "I
certainly have a busy eight months cut out for me. Just look at these
formidable lessons assigned us for to-morrow. Here are twenty pages in
seamanship, and about the same amount in gunnery and in electricity.
We've got an awful lot to do this year in steam engineering, and look at
those five hundred pages in navigation. Whew! I don't see how we're
going to do it well. Then I'm sure to be constantly busy with my company
duties; this ought to be enough, but on top of this is an hour and a
half's drill each day, and after that, football till it is too dark to
see. Jimmini! If we get more than a smattering out of those books I'll
be surprised. And you'll be busy too; you're editor of the 'Lucky
Bag'[1] and chairman of the hop committee!"
[Footnote 1: Each year the senior class publishes a book called "The
Lucky Bag," which is illustrative of midshipman life.]
"Yes, we'll have no spare minutes," replied Stonewell. "Let's get to
work."
The next morning, as the gunnery recitation commenced, the instructor,
Lieutenant Clement, said: "Gentlemen, your theoretical book work has
been all planned, and by looking through your ordnance and gunnery books
you can see just what it will be. For practical work during winter drill
periods we will take torpedo mechanisms apart and put them together, and
we'll go aboard the monitor 'Nevada' and study her turret and her guns.
In the last of May a crew of first classmen from each company will go
out into the bay and will fire at a regulation target with the
'Nevada's' six-pounder guns under the regular target practice
conditions. Each company six-pounder crew may practice as much as it can
find time to with the six-pounder gun in the armory gun shed. The head
of the department instructs me to tell you that you are encouraged to
make any devices or innovations so long as the gun is in no way
disabled, though any suggested change must be submitted to him before
firing the gun. The record made in gun-firing is entirely competitive.
The crew making the best record will do a good deal toward winning the
flag for the company it belongs to; a poor record will certainly defeat
any such chance. Now we will proceed to our day's lesson in ballistics.
Mr. Drake, take the first problem."
The drill assigned to the first company that afternoon was infantry. The
drill call sounded after the last study period was over, and by four
o'clock Robert was marching his company across lawns to the drill
grounds. He marched them in columns of squads, changing to company
front, and felt very important indeed in his position as company
commander. Upon arrival at the drill grounds he ordered:
"Company--halt! Unfix bayonets. Stand at ease." Then, sheathing his
sword he said: "Fellows, since I've been at the Academy the first
company has always been among the best companies of the brigade. I want
it to keep its reputation as such this year, and I'm sure you'll all
have the same desire. The company had the honor of carrying the brigade
colors a year ago, but it lost it last June by a narrow margin. You all
know the company that has the best record for the year wins the flag,
and carries it for the next year. The record is made up of many things,
excellence in the various drills, excellence in the different forms of
athletics, target practice, boat sailing, sharp-shooting, etc. Any man
that does well individually in anything adds to his company's multiple
and helps just that much. I'm going to do the very best I can to help
win the flag for the first company. I take it for granted every one of
you is with me and each will do his best for the same purpose. And we
may be certain that each of the other eleven companies will do its
utmost to win the colors." Bob paused.
"Company attention! Shoulder arms! Rear rank, fourth file, last squad,
step to the front."
A diminutive midshipman, seemingly hardly five feet tall, but fat, happy
and careless looking, assisted by some vehement whispered advice of the
left guide, shambled awkwardly to the front of the company, with his
rifle on his right shoulder.
"That chap over there said you meant me, mister," said the small
midshipman, in an engaging manner.
"Salute," ordered Cadet Lieutenant Drake, severely.
"Certainly, mister," replied the young man, eagerly taking off his cap
and bowing.
"Put on that cap. Don't you know the rifle salute? Have you had any
drill? What's your name?"
"Reginald Mumma. These chaps call me Mama's Darling, mister; I wish
you'd have it stopped."
"When did you enter the Academy?"
"A month ago, but I've been sick in the hospital; just got out
yesterday."
"Third petty officer, fall out of line of file closers. Drill Mr. Mumma
as a recruit every day this week, and whenever the company has infantry,
till he can take his place in ranks. Squads right, full step, march."
CHAPTER V
A MYSTERIOUS CRY
The football season opened auspiciously for Annapolis. About fifty
midshipmen were members of the football squad; these were excused from
drills except on two afternoons of the week. Of those selected to play
in regular games all were seasoned players, and except Bligh, all had
played on the Naval Academy team the previous year. And so Stonewell and
Robert and others were quite hopeful.
The head coach was Professor Danton, the field coach Gates, a famous old
Yale player.
After several hard games on successive Wednesdays and Saturdays
Stonewell was called into special consultation by Danton and Gates.
"Stonewell," began Gates, "I've been watching our team, and I'm
convinced we have a fine lot of men here; not only good football
players but real trustworthy chaps, men who will keep their promise,
whose word can be depended upon."
"We don't want any other kind," replied Stonewell, thinking by Gates'
manner that there was something in the wind.
"I've been trying to size up each man's character," continued Gates,
"and I've decided to put personal trust in every one of them. But I will
exact an individual promise of secrecy from every member of the squad
for something I'm going to give them. The matter is this: I have devised
a forward pass which if it isn't expected and is properly executed is
practically certain to bring a touch-down to the team that works it.
I've sent it to Yale, where it has been tried out in secret practice,
and the people there are wild over it. I've told them I wanted to give
it to the midshipmen. They don't like that idea, but it's my own play,
and I can do so if I wish to. They've asked me, if I give it to the
midshipmen, to take every precaution for secrecy and not to use it until
after Yale plays Harvard. Annapolis plays West Point the same day that
Yale meets Harvard, and you could work the trick against the soldiers.
It's a beauty. Now what do you say, Stonewell?"
"We will most certainly agree to secrecy," replied Stonewell, much
impressed. "I will get the individual promise you require from every
member of the squad to observe entire secrecy about this play, and we'll
never practice it except in secret practice and will never play it in a
game until we meet West Point. Is that what you require?"
"Yes; I'll give it to you. We'll suppose our men have come down the
field and are within an easy place-kick of the goal; we'll then make all
preparations apparently for a goal from the field, and turn the play
into a forward pass. We'll station our men as follows----" and a lot of
technical football talk followed.
Stonewell was delighted. "By George," he said, "that's great! We'll work
that on Franklin Field, and we'll certainly make the 'Army blue.' We'll
try it to-morrow afternoon. I'll let only the first team know of it and
get your required promise from them, and we'll work it on the
unsuspecting second team; we'll have everybody, officers and all, kept
away."
"Secret practice" for the football squad was ordered for the next day;
at the beginning of the practice the first and second teams were ordered
at first to keep in different parts of the field.
"What's up?" queried Harry Blunt, the ambitious quarter-back of the
second team, to a group of players about him. "One would think the Only
Stonewell had something up his sleeve. Come along, fellows; if we keep
up our work of yesterday this team will be the first team before long."
After half an hour's practice the two teams were called together for a
scrimmage. Bucking the line, running around the ends and punting were
employed until the ball was fifteen yards from the second team's goal
and in the possession of the first team. Then quarter-back Bligh gave
the regular signal for a goal from the field. The second team knew, of
course, the first team's signals, but it did not know that an apparent
stumbling in the numbers he called out was a signal that the Gates
forward pass was now to be played.
The first team players took their places for a goal from the field,
Stonewell, as usual, dropping back, and before the second team players
knew what had happened Robert Drake was sitting on the ball between the
goal posts.
Everybody was crazy with delight. One would have imagined West Point had
been scored upon. The play had worked perfectly. The squad was now all
gathered together and was talked to by Gates and Stonewell; it was
evident that Gates was well satisfied that his confidence in the
midshipmen was not misplaced.
In the next few weeks this play was repeatedly practiced, and Gates was
satisfied that if the midshipmen had the opportunity they would play it
successfully on the day of the great West Point game.
It was Stonewell's purpose to develop the team as a whole, not
individual star players. As right end Robert became famous among
midshipmen for getting down the field promptly under kicks, and for
tackling and downing in his tracks the opposing player who caught the
ball. The two finds of the season were Bligh and Farnum. The former
knew the game and played with intelligent skill. As quarter-back his
position was most important and at different critical moments he ran the
team with unerring judgment.
Farnum played with desperate valor. His tackling was fierce, and in
running with the ball and interfering when one of his own side had it he
took every chance. His impetuosity brought him into prominence as a sure
ground gainer. In close places the ball was generally given to
Stonewell. There was something peculiarly invigorating in Stonewell's
personality. When his signal was made there was a penetrating intensity
that affected every Annapolis player. The danger was in working him too
much.
One Saturday early in November, Annapolis was matched against Bucknell.
Bucknell had always been a formidable antagonist of the midshipmen; the
year previous it had defeated them. Up to now Annapolis had not lost a
game, and the midshipmen were particularly anxious to defeat Bucknell,
which on this occasion had brought a stalwart lot of players. They were
strong, heavy, and confident. Before the game Stonewell called Farnum
aside and said: "Now, old chap, be a little careful of yourself. You are
bound to get badly hurt at the rate you are going, and we want you to
save yourself for the West Point game. You're going to be given the ball
a good deal to-day; Bob Drake is a bit stale, and my knee is bothering
me. Now look out for yourself."
"I'll try to remember, Stone," was the reply; "but when I get started
I'm not apt to think of anything but the game. But I'll try to be
careful."
Bucknell kicked off and Drake caught the ball. He was down the field
with a tremendous start, dodging one player, smashing by another, making
twenty-five yards before he was downed.
Bligh believed in quick action. The Annapolis team was lined up
immediately and in a second the ball was in play. Farnum banged through
the line between guard and tackle, making over fifteen yards for
Annapolis.
"Take it easy, Farnum," cautioned Stonewell. In an instant Farnum had
the ball again and was around the end and speeding for Bucknell's goal.
Ten yards before he got there he was brought to earth with terrific
violence, and he lay there still and limp.
On the side lines, leading the cheering, Glassfell was executing all
kinds of crazy antics; the midshipmen on the bleachers, full of joy,
shouted themselves hoarse. But poor Farnum lay there unheeded, entirely
unconscious. And in vain did the appreciative midshipmen shout: "Farnum!
Farnum! Farnum!" for that young man was carried off the field on a
stretcher without regaining consciousness.
Two more plays, Stonewell carrying the ball, brought a touch-down to
Annapolis and Stonewell kicked a goal. This was the only scoring done
during the game. In vain did each team hurl itself against the other;
all for nothing did prodigies of violence occur. When time was finally
called the score stood Annapolis 6, Bucknell 0.
And then thoughts turned to Farnum, now in the Academy sick quarters.
When questioned Surgeon Pickron looked grave and said, "Mr. Farnum has
had a terrible blow on the head--he has had many recurring spasms
ever since--I regard his condition as very serious."
[Illustration: _AROUND THE END_]
Such news travels fast, and on Saturday night the whole Academy,
officers and midshipmen, were much perturbed. Sunday brought no change
for the better and Surgeon Pickron advised an operation. Farnum had not
regained consciousness. Surgeon Welton, who was in command of the
hospital, insisted on delaying, against Dr. Pickron's advice, and on
Monday morning everybody was much cheered up by hearing that Farnum's
spasms had ceased and that he had come to himself. It was decided not to
perform the operation, though Dr. Pickron believed that a clot of blood
had formed and that Farnum's skull should be trephined.
From now on Farnum continued to improve and in two weeks he was
discharged from sick quarters and sent back to Bancroft Hall, though it
was ordered that he was to play no more football. But it was not the
same Farnum. In place of the cheery, wideawake youth who had battled so
valiantly against Bucknell, was a slow-moving, hesitating young man. He
seemed afraid. The slightest unexpected noise or untoward incident
seemed to startle him, sometimes to frighten him badly. "I can't help
it, Bob," he said one time, with half a laugh and half a sob; "it's my
nerves, I suppose; I'm sure there's something wrong with me; I know I'm
acting like a baby, and I guess it will pass after a while; but I can't
help it, I can't help it," and then Farnum broke down.
Stonewell, Robert and some of the others had long talks with him. They
were all drawn to him and were much concerned. One of Farnum's
peculiarities was that he didn't dare to go out at night. The entire
first class were now devoted to him. His popularity had come late in his
midshipman career, but it was now strong and abiding. And his sufferings
were so acute and so constant that he had the warm sympathy of all.
And Academy life went on apace, and Academy life at this period of the
year is mostly concerned with football. True, there are study hours and
recitations; long hard lessons must be read over and officers must hear
recitations; formations must be attended, drills undergone, and
examinations prepared for. This football spirit infected the officers as
it did midshipmen. Football was the one topic of conversation, the one
purpose in life during this epoch, and those that didn't play shouted
vociferous advice, admonition and encouragement from the bleachers.
One Friday night in the middle of November, at five minutes before ten,
the bugles in Bancroft Hall rang out their customary discordant warnings
that all midshipmen were to repair to their rooms immediately. In five
minutes the midshipmen were to be in bed and all lights out. And
instantly hundreds of midshipmen rushed through the corridors to get to
their own rooms; for they are given the time from nine-thirty, the end
of their study period, to ten for visiting.
On this Friday night the midshipmen ran to their rooms as usual at the
warning signal. Until the last minute of the allowed time there was to
be heard the scurrying of hurried feet resounding through the corridors
and a babble of shouting and laughter. Eight hundred midshipmen seemed
to have something to say that couldn't keep till the morrow.
Ten o'clock came, and with it complete silence save for the measured
tread of cadet officers going from room to room to see the occupants
thereof were all in bed. And now sounded forth the clock, with its
ominous tick-tock, as though it had been silent all day, and there came
the oppressive silence which reigns each night after ten o'clock. So it
was this Friday night. Four bells, indicating ten o'clock, were struck,
the lights were put out and a solemn hush was upon the eight hundred
occupants of Bancroft Hall.
And then, in the stillness of the night, there arose an awful
heart-terrifying shriek. It was plainly in the armory wing and evidently
from one of the upper floors. Startled, affrighted midshipmen jumped
from their beds and stood in listening attitudes. Again came a cry that
permeated every nook and corner of the armory wing, and hundreds of
midshipmen listening with painful intensity plainly heard the words:
"Help, help, Stonewell, help; I'm going down, going down, down." The
tones were those of one in fearful agony. The midshipmen jumped to the
doors of their rooms and into the corridors, all with unspeakable dread
in their hearts, waiting for a leader to direct their actions.
Stonewell, rooming on the first floor, dashed into the corridor,
followed by Drake.
"Where's that cry?" he demanded in strident tones.
"The top floor, sir," cried little Mr. Mumma, with trembling voice. Up
the stairway bounded Stonewell and Robert.
Hardly had this occurred when the cry was again heard. It seemed now to
be in the corridor of the third floor, which by this time Stonewell had
reached. Stonewell stood perplexed and worried; in a second the fearful
scream was again heard, but now evidently from the floor below, the
second floor. Stonewell ran to the stairway at one end of the corridor,
followed by the other midshipman. "Where is that cry?" he again demanded
of the startled midshipmen standing about, much bewildered.
"It was here a minute ago, right here, right here," replied Harry Blunt.
"But what's the matter? what's happened?" he asked. Again they were
silenced by the awful cry: "Help, help, Stonewell, save me!" which
arose from the floor below. It was twice repeated, each time seeming
farther away, and then it ceased entirely. By this time Stonewell and
Robert had run down two flights to the ground floor. Midshipmen here had
heard the frightful shrieks and many scared faces were to be seen.
"Turn out, everybody; get into ranks. Company officers, muster your
companies," shouted Stonewell. "Pass the word to the upper floors, Bob,"
he called out. "Muster on the first and ground floors," and Robert was
off in a flash.
"You have anticipated my orders, Mr. Stonewell," remarked the
officer-in-charge. "Make a careful muster; we'll investigate; what do
you think it was?"
"I can't imagine, sir; I'm entirely bewildered; the cry was undoubtedly
heard at the top of the building, and it was heard later on each floor.
I followed it down from the third floor. But nobody came down on the
stairways, I'm certain of that, and the cry seemed near the centre of
each floor, where no stairway leads down. If it wasn't that I believe
everything on earth is explainable I would say it is uncanny."
While Stonewell and the officer-in-charge were talking Bancroft Hall had
burst into life. The cries had ceased.
In going along the ground floor Stonewell came across Bligh, half
supporting Farnum. The latter was shivering with unconcealed fright.
"What is it, Stonewell?" he half whispered. "Oh, what has happened?
Hasn't something dreadful occurred?"
Farnum had the appearance of a sick man. He was agitated in manner, and
seemed weak and trembled; without Bligh's assistance he would have
fallen.
"Just a joke, old chap," replied Stonewell kindly; "nothing to worry
about; but you're sick, I can see that. Man, you have a raging fever!"
"Get to your company, Bligh; I'll take care of Farnum."
Stonewell reported Farnum as being sick, and received permission to take
him to sick quarters, at some distance from Bancroft Hall.
The result of the muster was that Bligh and Farnum were reported as not
being present but the absence of both was explained, Farnum being sick
and Bligh being with him when the latter's company was mustered.
The midshipmen, tremendously interested and impressed, were now waiting
to be dismissed. All sorts of conjectures were ventured to explain the
mystery, and some had superstitious fears in their hearts. Mr. Henry
Bligh listened with a queer expression to a great many theories of this
remarkable episode, but offered none himself. But after he was dismissed
he chuckled and laughed, being apparently much pleased with something.
CHAPTER VI
THE GATES FORWARD PASS
The commandant was inclined to make little of the incident of that
Friday night. "Just a midshipman's joke," he said next morning to the
officer-in-charge.
"I don't feel that way at all," replied that officer. "I don't believe
anybody could have simulated the horror of those tones. I confess I have
no theory about the matter and I'm at an utter loss in attempting to
account for the way the cry descended from the upper to the lower floor,
for it certainly did do that. It couldn't have been anybody running
downstairs, for the midshipmen in charge of floors were at their desks
at the foot of the stairways, and they say that nobody except Mr.
Stonewell and Mr. Drake came down, and it wasn't either of them."
"Oh, I'll tell you how it was done," said Commander Dalton. "Some jokers
got some rubber hose in some way and fixed up a plant to bewilder the
officer-in-charge. I can imagine sections of hose were led to the
different floors and were triced up overhead and acted as speaking
tubes. You didn't think to look overhead, did you?"
"No, I didn't, but I don't think that could be the explanation."
"Perhaps not, but some joking midshipman was at the bottom of it. If it
happens again just look overhead."
For several days following Stonewell appeared much preoccupied and was
to be seen wandering about the corridors in the central part of the
armory wing. Facing the corridors were long lines of midshipmen's rooms;
the only communication between the floors were the stairways, two to
each floor. Finally Stonewell went to the top floor and after looking
about, disappeared into a small doorway leading to the tower, where the
ventilating blower was in operation. This was on Wednesday afternoon
just after study hours were over. At this time Robert Drake was standing
by the stairway of the ground floor, leading to the basement. Harry
Blunt came by and said: "Hello, Drake, come along, if you're going to
football practice to-day; Stonewell said he wanted us on the field as
early as we could get there."
"I'm just waiting for Stone; he's gone up to the fourth floor, and said
he would be down directly."
Then to Robert's great surprise, Stonewell came up the stairway from the
basement.
"How in the world did you get into the basement?" he exclaimed. "I saw
you start for the top of the building and you came out of the bottom.
How did you do it?"
"I'll let you know later, Bob," Stonewell said quietly, and Robert knew
he didn't care to talk before Blunt. "Come along, fellows."
They started off at a brisk pace; near sick quarters, Stonewell said:
"I'm going to drop in to see Farnum; an operation was performed on him
Saturday afternoon, and Dr. Pickron said I might see him to-day. He is
getting along finely."
"That's splendid news," exclaimed Robert; "just tell him how sorry we
all are that he has been sick."
"May I see Mr. Farnum for a few minutes?" asked Stonewell of Dr.
Pickron, in sick quarters.
"Yes, top floor back on the right. Don't stay too long with him."
"Thank you, doctor, I'll only be with him a moment."
Stonewell found Farnum lying in bed with his head bandaged. "Hello,
Stone," cried the latter happily, as Stonewell came in, in a different
tone of voice than Farnum had had for some weeks. "By George, Stone, I'm
feeling a lot better; I've got rid of that miserable feeling I had for
such a long time. Dr. Pickron is all right; he cut my head open and I'm
going to be well and out in ten days or two weeks. I knew there was
something wrong with me, but Dr. Pickron has fixed it all right. I'd
been in bad shape ever since that Bucknell game."
"I'm delighted, old fellow," replied Stonewell enthusiastically; "that
was a hard bump you got that day, but you're looking ever so much
better. Everybody will be awfully glad to hear you are getting along so
nicely; the squad, particularly."
"I'm afraid I'll play no more football this year."
"Don't worry about that, Farnum. You played a slashing game, and had
much to do in getting that six against Bucknell; but you played too
hard, as I was afraid you would. Say, old chap, you were pretty sick the
night I brought you over here, weren't you? Do you remember much about
it?"
"I've been worrying about that, Stone; I remember coming over with you,
but I'm a good deal bewildered as to what happened before I saw you. I'd
been feeling sick all day and turned in early. I went to sleep and had a
horrible nightmare; I hate to think about it."
"Where were you when you woke up?"
"That's what has been bothering me. Stone, I found myself in the
basement. How in the world I got there, what I was doing, I have no
idea. I woke up with the most awful feeling of terror a man ever had,
and I didn't know where I was. If it hadn't been that young Bligh was
down there I'd have lost my grip; I didn't have much of one as it was.
Bligh saw I was in bad shape, and grabbed me and half carried me to the
floor above."
"What was Bligh doing there at that time?"
"I don't like to say, Stone; you must remember he did me a good turn."
"Well, I know what he was doing, he was breaking training; I suspected
that; I detected the odor of tobacco on him that night, and I've had
this same notion before. If I learn that he's breaking training I'll
fire him off the team. Do you know, Farnum, I've heard you were seen
going up on the fourth floor a little before ten that night. Have you
any recollection at all of that, any dream even?"
"None except a most horrible dream; I shudder to think about it. Say,
Stone, I hope you won't talk about this; I'd hate to have the notion get
among the fellows that I had been crazy."
"I won't speak of it, old chap, to anybody; but I can tell by your very
appearance you're going to have no more trouble. Say, our next game is
with the University of Virginia, and after that we play Harvard; by
George, I hope we make a good showing. Good-bye, old chap; I'll drop in
to see you every day or so until you're back with us."
On his way out Stonewell stopped in to see Dr. Pickron. "Doctor," he
said, "Farnum is doing well. What was the operation you performed?"
"We trephined his skull. He received a hard blow on the right side of
his head in the Bucknell game; this caused a rupture and resulted in a
hemorrhage or blood clot, which was formed between the membranes of the
brain and the skull; and there was a slight depression of the skull over
this area. I wanted to operate at the time he was first hurt, but the
blood clot was mostly absorbed, and apparently Mr. Farnum regained his
normal condition. But actually there remained a thickening of the
membrane over this area, and this, with the slight depression of the
skull, caused a constant pressure. This resulted in a certain form of
epilepsy, which was his condition when you brought him over last Friday
night."
"Doctor, while in this condition could Mr. Farnum have walked about,
unaware of what he was doing, as if he were asleep, and later know
nothing about what had happened?"
"Yes, indeed; it's quite likely that very thing happened to Mr.
Farnum."
"Thank you very much, doctor," and Stonewell left and went to the
athletic field, where football practice had already commenced.
"Bligh," called out Stonewell sharply, "I believe you've been breaking
training. I give you fair warning that if you are caught at it you'll be
kicked off the team without ceremony."
Bligh looked uncomfortable and commenced to bluster. "Who says I've
broken training; just let me know who it is! Don't I play quarter well
enough for you, Mister Stonewell?" he continued sneeringly.
"Blunt can take your place any time," replied Stonewell shortly. "He's
playing better every day, and your playing is at a standstill. Now get
busy."
"Oh, you're one of the mighty Stonewell's pets," muttered Bligh to Harry
Blunt. "Your bootlicking begins to draw interest."
This uncalled for and unexpected insult was too much for Harry Blunt's
uncertain temper; full of rage he jumped at Bligh and struck him heavily
in the face. The two lads clinched, but were immediately separated,
Harry's face aflame with angry indignation, and Bligh furious with
mortification. Stonewell called them sternly to time, threatening
summarily to dismiss both from the team if they didn't bury their
personal differences: nor would he listen to any explanation from
either.
"Shut up, both of you, and get to work," he ordered peremptorily.
After this the rivalry between Bligh and Blunt became bitter. Blunt
secretly was tremendously encouraged by Stonewell's remark that he could
take Bligh's place any time. In the next game, against the University of
Virginia, Blunt was put in at quarter, and won golden opinions. Virginia
was beaten 10 to 0, and there were many that now openly said: "Blunt is
every bit as good as Bligh, and with another season's experience he will
be better."
Bligh was aware of this sentiment, and it exasperated his already bitter
feeling against his rival; he had much enjoyed the reputation of being
the Naval Academy's best quarter-back. He showed this bitterness by a
sullen behavior that was evident to everybody and which brought down
upon him severe criticism and reprimand. But he did not change.
On the next Wednesday, Annapolis was matched against Harvard. The
wearers of the crimson came to the field smiling and confident, but it
wasn't long before they commenced to look worried. Annapolis immediately
commenced to tear great holes for steady gains through the Harvard line.
To the enthusiastic midshipmen on the bleachers it seemed like a regular
walk down the field. When ten yards from Harvard's goal, Lumsden, a
second classman, took the ball. No one knew just how it happened, but
the ball slipped from Lumsden's grasp, and quick as a flash the Harvard
captain emerged from the scuffle with the ball under his arm and an
apparently clear field before him. Robert Drake downed him on the
Annapolis fifteen yard line.
Harvard now tried rushing tactics, but to her dismay could make no
headway, and on the third down kicked a goal from the field. From now on
Annapolis played with wild desperation. Chances looked bright for them,
but without realizing it the team was exhausting itself. Toward the
close of the second half Annapolis had the ball seventeen yards from the
Harvard goal line, and now Stonewell realized, too late, that his men
were exhausted, that Harvard had better staying powers. Twice Stonewell
threw the entire strength of his team against Harvard, but the latter
stood the shock easily. The midshipmen were worn out. And then on the
third down, Stonewell whispered to Bligh, the quarter-back, to try a
goal from the field. "Our best and only hope is to tie the score," he
said.
Once more the two teams were lined up, Annapolis bracing itself for a
final effort, Harvard doggedly determined. And then Bligh gave the
signal.
"Thirteen, twenty-one, ninety-seven, forty-six."
"Time, time," called Stonewell, suddenly, running out and holding up his
hand. "Blunt, oh, Blunt!" he shouted to the side lines.
"Get off the field, you hound," Stonewell said in tones of contempt to
Bligh.
The latter had given the signal for the Gates forward pass.
CHAPTER VII
THE WEST POINT GAME
In another moment, but for Stonewell's quick action, the ball might have
been put in play.
All the Naval Academy players instantly realized what Bligh had
intended, and every one was intensely angry.
Gates, who had heard the signal, came running out on the field from the
side lines; the Harvard players were tremendously surprised and did not
know what to make of the commotion among the midshipmen, and the umpire
was angrily ordering the midshipmen to play and Gates to get off the
field. Short shrift was given to Bligh; the latter's attempted
expostulation was cut short, and Stonewell passionately ordered him
away. Blunt took his place as quarter. A place-kick was attempted, but
was blocked, and time was soon called. The game ended with the score
Harvard 3, Annapolis 0.
The midshipmen players ran to their dressing rooms, and much hot and
angry talk followed. Some were for reporting Bligh and having him
dismissed. Others were for giving him a physical beating; others
proposed that he be put into complete "coventry."
"None of this will do, fellows," said Stonewell, after listening to a
lot of angry proposals for Mr. Bligh's discomfiture. "Not one of us here
will ever speak to the man; that goes as a matter of course; but we must
be very careful to avoid doing anything that will tend to create
discussion. Bligh's leaving the field was not understood by anybody but
our own players. If he be put in 'coventry' or thrashed or reported or
disciplined for what he did to-day the matter might leak out. West Point
scouts were present watching our play, and Harvard plays Yale soon. The
only thing to do is to keep absolutely mum; in this case the ends of
justice and of discipline must give way to football necessities. We must
keep faith with our friends of Yale."
"But is such a hound to be permitted to remain a midshipman?" burst out
Harry Blunt. "I've been brought up to believe a midshipman could not do
a dishonorable thing and remain a midshipman; is Bligh to do a
scoundrelly act and not only go unpunished but also to have the secret
of it kept by us who would have been disgraced if he had succeeded in
his purpose?"
"Just so, Blunt," replied Stonewell. "There's nothing else to do. Should
we report Bligh it is quite possible the whole thing would come out, and
Gates' forward pass from a fake kick formation would become a matter of
common knowledge. We may win the West Point game through it. Yale plays
Harvard the same day we play West Point. Each of us must avoid doing a
thing in regard to Bligh that will cause comment or discussion. His
leaving the field at that time and his being put off the squad is bound
to cause talk in the brigade. If anybody asks why, just say he didn't
suit, and change the subject."
"That's right," broke in Professor Danton, who had been an interested
listener, "but I just want to add one thing; in the many years I've been
here, there have been at different times bad characters entered as
midshipmen; but they're invariably found out and dismissed. Mark my
words, Mr. Bligh will be no exception--he's undoubtedly a dishonorable
character--don't worry about him; he'll not last a year here."
Much discontented grumbling followed, but all realized there was nothing
to do except follow Stonewell's directions. As a natural result impotent
rage was felt by the midshipmen players against Bligh. In spite of
Bligh's dastardly act they were to be powerless to show their contempt
for him or their resentment of his conduct, nor could the midshipmen of
the brigade be told until after the football season had ended.
"And just think of the brigade giving Bligh the 'four N yell,' fellows,
as he left the field," grumbled Harry Blunt.
The members of the team talked of Bligh's conduct rather than of the
game in which they had just been defeated. Before the game they had
hardly dared to hope for victory against Harvard, and all had now a
satisfactory feeling that a good battle had been fought, and that no
apology was necessary.
Amongst the midshipmen of Bancroft Hall much enthusiasm was felt for
their team, but great surprise was exhibited when at supper Bligh was
seen to go to his regular seat in the mess hall instead of going to the
training table. It became instantly known that Bligh was off the
football squad, and "Why?" was the question asked everywhere.
Bligh was very quiet, and in reply to numerous questions said he could
not talk about the matter. Then all knew that he had been dismissed from
the squad.
"Pass the word, Pete," said Glassfell to Peters, "that Stone says that
no questions are to be asked, and Bligh's leaving the football squad is
not to be talked about." It was wonderful how loyally this mandate was
observed. It soon got to every midshipman of the brigade and in spite of
the intense curiosity that existed every midshipman felt it a duty to
the team to carry out Stonewell's wishes.
That same Wednesday night, shortly before half-past nine, Bligh appeared
in the room occupied by Stonewell and Robert Drake.
"By what authority are you visiting my room in study hours?" demanded
Stonewell in coldly official tones.
"From the officer-in-charge, sir; I told him it was most important."
"What is it?"
Bligh's reply came in halting, jerky sentences.
"I wish to explain that signal to-day, sir. I was wild for our team to
win; we could have won by the play; I gave the signal without thought,
sir. It just sprang from my lips--I never once thought about the
promise--and besides, it would be a greater honor to win from Harvard
than from West Point--and probably we would have won by it from West
Point, too--we have never yet won from Harvard. Don't you see, sir, I
was working for the Academy? I was carried away at the time; it was a
tremendous minute and the desire to use a play that would win crowded
all other thoughts out of my mind; it's well enough to think of promises
when you have time to do so; it's easy when you're sitting in a chair
doing nothing, but too much outside matter should not be expected of the
quarter-back in the middle of a fierce game. I want to go back on the
squad."
"Mr. Bligh, from the very best possible construction of your act, even
if it were agreed that your character is high, that with you a promise
intentionally broken is impossible, your conduct has shown you to be
irresponsible, a person in whom trust cannot be reposed. But from your
words I judge you regard a promise lightly--to be broken easily. Your
action was particularly bad because it might have caused other men, who
have higher regard for their word than you have, to be faithless to a
promise. But I'm going to make you one promise, and that is as long as
you are at the Naval Academy you will never play football here again.
You may leave my room, sir."
"Do you think I'm going to stand this?" cried Bligh, in passionate
tones. "Do you expect me to sit idle while you are ruining my
reputation? I'm not powerless, perhaps I know of some way I may injure
you--and some others," and Bligh's eyes glared with savage intelligence.
"I know what you're thinking of, you miserable plebe. You're thinking
you will write to both West Point and Harvard about the fake kick."
Bligh gave a violent start.
"But let me tell you," continued Stonewell, "those people would spurn a
correspondence with you. If you attempt such a thing as that I will
learn of it, and then I'll make you another promise; if you should do it
you'll be drummed out of this place to the tune of the Rogue's March.
Return to the officer-in-charge, sir, and report you have concluded your
important matter."
Bligh turned and left the room. Angry feelings dominated him. In his
statements to Stonewell he had unconsciously expressed his sentiments;
honor and truth were in fact not salient characteristics of this young
man, and when giving the signal for the Gates forward pass he had not
given much thought to the promise he and all of the team were bound by.
So he left Stonewell with a sense of injury and resentment, not of
remorse.
Stonewell and Robert lived in the corner room of the ground floor,
armory wing. Bligh roomed with Sexton in the main corridor, next door to
the room used as an office by the lieutenant-commander in charge of the
first division of midshipmen, that officer occupying the room only
during the day.
When Bligh returned he found his roommate, who had been off on some
unauthorized visiting since supper time, leaving the room again with his
arms full of clothes.
"What's up? Where are you taking those things, Sexton?" inquired Bligh.
"I have permission to change my room; I'm not going to room with you any
more."
Sexton was on the football squad, and so knew of what Bligh had done.
"So you're against me too, are you?" shouted Bligh, now beside himself
with anger; he then left the room and started down the corridor, and in
a moment saw Harry Blunt coming toward him. He did not notice that
Blunt, on seeing him, suddenly clenched his hands and seemed to breathe
hard. In fact Harry's anger was yet intensely alive, and the sight of
Bligh set his nerves on edge.
Bligh's overwrought feelings now left his control; he wanted somebody to
hate, and because of his previous troubles with Blunt it was very easy
for him to vent his passion on that young man. So as he passed Harry he
suddenly stopped and said:
"So the Great Stonewell's pet chicken has bootlicked himself into
quarter, has he?"
And then an avalanche struck Mr. Henry Bligh. Before he thought of
defending himself a steam hammer blow slammed him against the corridor
wall and in the space of three or four seconds blow after blow was
rained upon him; blows sent by Harry Blunt, animated by intense personal
animosity and utter detestation. And then Bligh dropped to the floor,
covered his face with his hands, acknowledging defeat, and groaning in
utter despair. To that overwrought fourth classman it seemed as if the
entire world had combined against him.
Stonewell came running down the corridor. "What does this mean?" he
demanded savagely of Blunt.
"He said I was your pet chicken, and had bootlicked myself into quarter.
I hit him; I had to, I couldn't help it. I hadn't said a word to him
when he insulted me."
"Go to your room and keep away from him. Get up, Bligh, and go to your
room."
After this episode Bligh was very quiet, and kept much to himself. But
whenever he passed Harry Blunt or Stonewell a peculiar expression
crossed his face. One would have said that though he never spoke of them
yet he thought much about them, and these thoughts evidently were not
pleasant ones.
The football season now drew to a close, and finally those ancient
friends but football rivals, Annapolis and West Point, once more faced
each other on Franklin Field, in Philadelphia. It is not the purpose
here to depict that glorious struggle; that is a matter of too recent
history and has been told many times.
The teams seemed about equally matched. In the mighty rushing of one
team against the other neither side could make much, and but few first
downs were recorded; end runs were nipped in the bud. All in vain would
one team hurl itself upon the other, and many tremendous efforts
accomplished nothing. And so before the end of the first half kicking
tactics were adopted by both sides. Twice when Annapolis had recovered
the ball from a punt down the field a place-kick was tried, but each
time it was blocked by West Point.
Once more, while there was yet ten minutes to play, the midshipmen were
within striking distance of West Point's goal, and once more Blunt gave
the same signal for an attempt for a goal from the field; a signal the
West Pointers now knew perfectly well. But they did not appreciate a
difference in Blunt's manner of giving the signal, something well
understood by every midshipman player. Stonewell fell back in his place,
the midshipmen braced themselves as usual, and the West Pointers
prepared to block the kick.
On the bleachers the mighty host who had been yelling themselves hoarse
were momentarily silent. Harry Blunt now grabbed the snapped ball and
then, with terrific force, West Point plunged into the Annapolis line.
The shock was backed by all the strength and pluck and spirit that the
West Pointers possessed. But bewilderment overtook them, for something
out of the usual had happened, and in awful dismay they were like men
groping in the dark.
Blunt grabbed the ball when it was snapped back and ran seven or eight
yards to the right; and at the same instant, with the speed of a deer
Robert Drake sped far over to the right. He then turned and caught the
ball which with unerring skill Blunt had thrown to the point where
Robert was to catch it.
In but a few seconds Robert was lying flat on the ground between the
goal posts. Annapolis had made a touch-down. And now from the Navy side
there broke out prolonged roars and shouts from fifteen thousand
enthusiastic Navy friends, while over on the West Point side there was
nothing but silent dismay.
There was no more scoring, but all Annapolis was wild with delight; for
the first time in four years she had defeated West Point.
But on the midshipman stand, surrounded by excited midshipmen in blue,
there was one young man who did not participate in the general delight;
for with brooding face and troubled eyes Midshipman Henry Bligh sat
silent.
CHAPTER VIII
"THE MAN WORE A SLOUCH HAT"
"Bang," went the reveille gun at six in the morning, rattling every
window in Bancroft Hall; and out of bed jumped Robert Drake in a hurry.
He first took his customary cold shower-bath, and then quickly threw on
his clothes. "Turn out, Stone," he called to his roommate, who was in
his own sleeping room across the study. A suite for two midshipmen
consists of two sleeping rooms separated by a longer room used in common
by both, a large clothes closet, and a shower-bath.
Hardly had the reverberating roar of the morning gun died away than
Bancroft Hall was filled with the harsh, sleep-blasting notes of
discordant bugles.
"Turn out on this floor, turn out, turn out," called out Robert in the
corridor just outside of his own room.
Then he entered the room next to his own, in which Peters and Glassfell
roomed.
"All right, Bob," came from each sleeping room which opened into the
study room where Robert had entered, and Robert left and rushed into the
next room. It must be confessed that Robert was hardly out of the room
when Glassfell was once more sound asleep. And further it is admitted
that Robert did not give the same stern inspection to first classmen's
rooms that he gave to those of the lower classes. He was satisfied with
the report from his own classmates of "all right," but saw with his own
eyes that all others were actually turned out. On this particular
morning Mr. Harry Blunt, midshipman third class, was strangely very
tired after what should have been eight hours of sleep, so tired, in
fact, that neither gun-firing nor bugle detonation awakened him.
"Turn out, Blunt, turn out," called out Robert, standing over him. "Get
up; you're on the report for not being turned out at reveille
inspection."
Harry slowly turned out, and Robert rushed away to continue his
inspection.
Breakfast formation came half an hour later. Most midshipmen were in
ranks before roll call, but at the last note of the bugle swarms of
midshipmen rushed madly from Bancroft Hall; midshipmen who had taken a
few winks after reveille inspection, hoping to get to the formation
without being marked late. This was Glassfell's habit, and he had
developed remarkable skill in dressing himself while running at full
speed. He would leave his room half dressed and at the end of a dead run
he would appear in ranks ready for inspection.
"By George, Stone," said Robert later, "can you imagine there is anybody
in the world who does more mad rushing than midshipmen do? We are jumped
out of our sleep by a cannon going off right under us, and we run about
in a feverish hurry all day long, always having to be present at some
formation or other, always fearful of punishment if we are late at
anything. And one day is just like another; we were jumped about all day
long when we were plebes, and we are still at it."
Every minute of Robert's life was interesting and never had it been so
full of zest as in this, his last year at Annapolis. He enjoyed his rank
with its duties and authority as cadet lieutenant, also his studies and
drills were engrossing. These days, though so crowded with detail, were
much the same; several hours daily were spent in preparing lessons;
recitations followed, and then at four o'clock came the afternoon
drills. The practical drills supplemented the theoretical work in class
rooms, and all was based upon what was to be required of the midshipmen
after graduation. And as an important duty of graduated midshipmen is to
teach and train enlisted men, Robert, in common with the rest of his
classmates, was drilled at many different things. He commanded his own
company at infantry and artillery manoeuvres and felt proud and
important in this position, but at other times he was to be found at a
forge, dirty with grime and sweat, or taking the place of a fireman at a
boiler. He could now turn out a fair piece of work at the lathe, shaper,
or drill-press; and he was quite at home in sailing a boat, running an
engine or manipulating a twelve-inch gun turret. For at Annapolis drills
are many and varied, and the mind, eye and hand are all trained
together.
December passed and with it football was forgotten. In the last of
January came the semi-annual examinations; of the first class there now
remained but one-half of those who had originally entered.
In February occurred an incident of much interest to Robert. At a
Saturday night dance he saw his first commander, Captain Blunt, and with
the latter was Miss Helen, his daughter, and Harry Blunt's sister. It
would be hard to decide who was most pleased at this meeting. Captain
Blunt evinced real pleasure in meeting Robert again, and Helen's welcome
was a genuinely glad one.
"Come and see us, Mr. Drake," said Captain Blunt to Robert; "I've given
up my command and am on leave; I've brought Mrs. Blunt and Helen to
Annapolis. We've opened our house here, as I'm going to be here for
several months and then go to the Light House Board. Come and see us,
and bring Mr. Stonewell with you."
Meanwhile Midshipman Henry Bligh lived a very quiet life. After the
football game the reason for his dismissal from the squad became noised
about, and Bligh felt he was ignored by upper classmen and shunned by
his own class. He probably thought more of this than did anybody else
and his thoughts were not happy. Besides, he was low in his studies and
in danger of "bilging." He was barely satisfactory at the semi-annual
examinations.
One night early in February, after taps inspection, and after the
midshipmen in charge of floors had been sent to their rooms, the door of
Bligh's room opened and that young man's head cautiously appeared.
Looking up and down the corridor, and seeing the midshipmen in charge
were not at their desks, Bligh left his room and walked to the end of
the corridor for a glass of water. This act was inoffensive in itself,
except that midshipmen are required to attend to such matters before ten
o'clock or wait until after eleven; it was not yet eleven and naturally
Bligh did not wish to be seen.
While drinking the water Bligh heard some steps on the stairway leading
to the next upper floor, and fearing it might be the officer-in-charge
he quickly slipped into a dark corner at the side of the stairway,
hoping he would not be noticed; in a moment a figure passed a few feet
from him, and to his surprise he saw it was Third Classman Blunt.
"Now, what's that fellow up to?" reflected Bligh, his mind full of the
injuries he imagined he had received from Harry Blunt. Bligh peered
around the corner and in the dim light he saw Harry quickly and quietly
walk down the corridor and then stop for a moment in front of the door
of the room that Bligh knew was the office of Lieutenant-Commander
Brooks, one of the discipline officers. The next instant Harry had
opened the door of this room and entered it. Bligh was astounded. He
walked softly to the room, paused an instant, and then gently, without
making any noise, turned the knob of the door.
The door was locked. Bligh was filled with wonder. It was evident that
Blunt had a key to the door, had entered the room, and was now inside.
Bligh could not imagine why any midshipman should want to enter a
discipline officer's room; it was certain no midshipman had a right to
be in that office except to see Lieutenant-Commander Brooks on duty.
Blunt was committing a serious offense in being in the room. This did
not worry Bligh at all, but he was completely puzzled.
"What can Blunt be doing in there?" he asked himself again and again. He
listened intently and heard Blunt moving about; and then he heard a
noise as if a chair were being moved and had knocked against something.
Looking up through the transom he saw it was all dark within; Blunt had
not turned on any light.
Bligh now entered his own room, which was next to the one that Blunt had
entered, and where Bligh now lived alone without a roommate. With a
puzzled mind he drew a chair to his window, and thought and wondered.
His imagination could not help him. He had been in the office next door
and knew it contained nothing but a desk, a table, two chairs and a
midshipman wardrobe where Lieutenant-Commander Brooks could hang a coat
if he were so disposed.
Bligh sat by his window, his mind full of Harry Blunt. The soft
moonlight streamed into his room. And then Bligh was startled by hearing
a noise in the room next door, as if a window were being raised.
Straining his eyes he looked out from his window, and in the next
instant he saw the dark figure of a man creep out on the passageway
leading from the window of the office to the terrace.
The man turned to his left, and with the bright moonlight full on his
face Bligh got a good look at him, but did not recognize him. The man
wore a slouch hat, sack coat, and had a moustache and full beard.
The dark figure stole over to the terrace and soon disappeared.
"Now I understand," cried Bligh to himself. "Blunt had an appointment
with some 'cit' and they met in the room next door. He's up to
something, and I'll see that he gets reported for this, and I hope it
will bilge him."
Bligh now opened the door of his room and looked out, expecting every
moment to see Harry Blunt emerge from the office. Bligh was thoughtful
for a while, then he took a spool of black linen thread from a drawer in
his wardrobe. He tied one end of the thread to the door-knob of the
office and carried the thread overhead through the open transom of his
room. He then sat in the chair by the window holding the thread hauled
taut; and Bligh sat there for the next two hours, thread in hand.
At one o'clock his watchfulness was rewarded. He saw the figure of a man
steal up over the terrace and across the passageway. And in the
moonlight he recognized the same hat, moustache, beard and sack coat.
Bligh sat perfectly still, and it was not long before the thread in his
hand suddenly pulled and snapped. Bligh quickly stepped to the doorway
of his room and looked out, and there going down the corridor was Harry
Blunt in his service uniform.
Then Mr. Henry Bligh, midshipman, fourth class, gave a pleased laugh and
went to bed.
CHAPTER IX
ROBERT GETS BAD NEWS
"Stone," said Robert Drake one Saturday in March, "let's call on the
Blunts this afternoon. Captain Blunt is home on leave; his ship, the
'New Orleans,' arrived in New York last month. He's a splendid man."
Stonewell laughed. "Come along," he replied, "and perhaps I'll have a
chance to see Mrs. Blunt; she's such a pleasant woman; and then there's
that scamp of a son of hers; perhaps he may be at home. I haven't seen
much of him since the football season ended. I never see him nowadays if
he sees me first. Mark my words, Bob, Harry Blunt is up to some
mischief, and he'll be getting into a lot of trouble before long. Every
time I pass him he looks conscious. By the way, Bob, whom have you asked
to present the flag to your company? You expect to win it, of course."
"Come along, Stone, and quit your fooling. You know I'll be glad to see
Captain Blunt, and nowadays I don't need an excuse to call on Helen.
She is always pleasant and cordial. I hope her brother won't get into
any trouble, but I've an idea he's taking lots of liberties with the
regulations. I imagine there are not many of the six hundred and
sixty-five that he's not broken. I hope it won't come my way to have to
report him for anything; I wish he were in some other company than the
first."
Half an hour later they were admitted into the Blunt home, and were
received as old friends.
"How are you, Mr. Drake?" exclaimed Captain Blunt, shaking Robert's hand
heartily. "And here is Mr. Stonewell, glad to see you; I can't believe
it's nearly four years ago since I took you out on the 'Constellation.'
Then you were subdued plebes, and now what a transformation! Here Mr.
Stonewell is cadet commander, and I'm not surprised. And, Drake, here
you are a cadet lieutenant, and I'm told my son Harry is in your
company. How is he doing?"
"Very well, captain. He stands fairly well in his class and is very
well liked. He did wonders in football."
"So I've heard, but I want to know whether he runs against the
regulations or not, that is, if he has been reported for any serious
offenses; for instance, to-day is Saturday and he can't come out to
Annapolis on liberty, which means he is not on the first conduct grade.
Now what's he been doing? That's what I want to know, and you can tell
me because you're his company commander."
"Nothing at all that I can recollect now, sir, or for you to be
concerned about. He has probably been reported for not being turned out
at reveille inspection, or late at formation. A few such reports would
deprive him of Saturday liberty in Annapolis. I'm sure no serious
reports have been made against Harry. Had there been I should have
remembered them."
"And then of course you would speak of them to his family."
"No, sir, I should not wish to."
"Come, Robert," interposed Helen Blunt, "let father talk with Mr.
Stonewell. Mr. Stonewell is so solemn and he knows so much that he will
just suit father. Come into the dining-room."
As they walked away Helen said: "Robert, I'm bothered to death about
Harry and I want you to help me. That brother of mine is going to get
into trouble, trouble bad enough to get him dismissed, and that would be
a terrible misfortune for us."
"I don't think there's any danger of that, Helen. Harry is all right;
he's just a little careless, that's all."
"Well, Mr. Robert," retorted Helen scornfully, "would you think Harry
was only a little careless if you knew he was up-stairs this instant? He
comes out in town regularly when he has no right to, and some time he
will be caught. And he will be reported for something much worse than
taking French leave--he will be reported for something that will dismiss
him." And pretty Helen was indignant and much concerned over her
brother's recklessness.
"Now, Robert Drake," she continued, "you've just got to help me."
"I wish I could, Helen; I might intimidate Harry, that's about all I
could do. I couldn't appeal to him with any success, I've tried that;
he would tell me to mind my own business. Harry doesn't take preaching
patiently. Now another thing, Helen; he is in my company. If you hear I
ever report him for anything I want you to believe I had to do it and
that I hated to."
"I'll know that beforehand, Robert," replied Helen gently. "But Harry is
very good about such things; he never talks at home about troubles with
other midshipmen. But now he is up-stairs, and he dare not come down,
for father would surely see him. Now can't you and Mr. Stonewell start
to go soon and ask father to walk to the Academy grounds with you? If
Harry doesn't leave the house soon he will be absent from supper
formation, and then he'll have to tell why, and his being out in town
would be found out."
"I can't treat your father that way, Helen; it wouldn't be right at all;
but I must go myself now."
As Robert went into the next room to take his leave, he was in a state
of great discomfort. Helen Blunt had thoughtlessly put him into a very
uncomfortable position. From her point of view she felt justified in
using any means to get her father from the house. But Robert felt he
could not be a party to a deception practised upon Captain Blunt, and he
was particularly uneasy as to how Helen would take his refusal. He
feared that to her his attitude would appear priggish. But his mind was
soon eased in that respect, for Helen said in a low voice: "I shouldn't
have asked you to do that, Robert; that wasn't nice of me. I didn't
think, but I'm so worried about Harry."
"I'm going to walk to the yard with you," suddenly said Captain Blunt.
"I'm going to see the commandant for a few minutes, and if you don't
mind walking with an old fellow like me we'll go together."
Robert was much relieved, and all three soon left the house.
Half an hour later supper formation occurred, and Robert was relieved to
see Third Classman Blunt in his customary place in ranks. Toward that
young man he now experienced a sentiment of irritation, even of
indignation. He knew that Harry had been taking unauthorized leave, or
"Frenching," as it is called, one of the most serious offenses a
midshipman can commit, and evidently had been jeopardizing his place as
a midshipman. To do this regularly in the face of his family's
protestations seemed to Robert to be utterly callous.
After supper he accosted Harry and said: "Blunt, you've been Frenching,
and you've got to stop it. If you keep it up you will surely be caught
and will stand a good chance of being dismissed. You ought to have some
regard for your family, and personally I don't mind saying I'd hate to
be placed in a position where I'd have to report you."
"Drake," replied Harry, "are you advising me as a friend or speaking to
me officially as my company commander?"
"As a friend, I hope."
"Well, then," rejoined Harry in a short, snappy way, "as a friend will
you kindly mind your own business?" and the young man started away,
whistling as he went, but was instantly stopped by a sharp military
order of "Halt." Robert stood before him with flashing eyes, and in
menacing tones said: "I'll not address you again as a friend, Mr.
Blunt; you will please to realize that when I speak to you hereafter it
will be your company commander who is talking. And you'll do no more
whistling in my face. That will do, sir. About face, march off."
Harry Blunt had a new sensation; he was actually intimidated. He really
liked Robert as much as a third classman ever likes a cadet officer, and
in his heart was sorry he had provoked Robert's displeasure. "But Drake
is a good chap," he later said to himself; "he'll come around all
right."
From here Robert went to his room. "Hello, Bob," greeted Stonewell;
"there's a letter for you." Stonewell was busy writing and after a few
moments he looked up, and suddenly cried out: "Why, Bob, what's the
matter; no bad news from home, I hope?"
Robert, with the letter clutched in his hand, and with a quivering chin,
looked the picture of woe. He had evidently received some news that made
him very unhappy.
"What's the matter, old chap?" inquired Stonewell anxiously; "something
has happened; what is it?" and the comforting kindness of his tone went
straight to Robert's heart.
"Stone," he said, "this is a letter from father; a month ago the railway
company that employed him was reorganized and he lost his position. He
has been half sick ever since, and it's impossible for him to get
employment. He hadn't intended to tell me, but he felt he ought to. You
know mother has been an invalid for years. Stone, I've got to resign,
there's no other way out of it. Mother and father are sick, and no money
is coming in. I've got to go home to take care of them."
Stonewell regarded him with his eyes full of sympathy. "I'm dreadfully
sorry, Bob," he said; "I'm sure your father will get employment. But
don't talk of resigning; you might find it very difficult to secure
employment for yourself; you're too near graduation to resign, and after
you graduate you will be in a position to help your father financially,
if he needs it. It would distress him terribly if he thought for a
moment you contemplated leaving the naval service. I'm going out for a
while, Bob; now don't you feel so badly; I'm sure matters will right
themselves."
Stonewell left and Robert paced up and down the room with blurred eyes
and a sad heart. The condition of his father and mother, ill and without
resources, filled him with agony. He longed to relieve them from their
troubles and anxieties; he dreaded the unfriendliness and coldness dealt
to people without means, and thinking of the mental torture his father
was in overwhelmed him with grief.
Stonewell went out into the city of Annapolis, direct to where the
Blunts lived. Here he asked to see Captain Blunt and was soon closeted
with that gentleman.
"Captain," he commenced, "you knew my roommate's father, didn't you, Mr.
Drake? I believe he was graduated from Annapolis shortly after you
were."
"Yes, indeed, he was a fine fellow, too; he had a splendid record in the
navy, and it was a great pity he resigned. What about him, Mr.
Stonewell?"
"Well, sir, Bob, my roommate, is in great trouble about his father and
mother, and as you and Mrs. Blunt are real friends of his I thought I'd
talk to you about it. Of course Bob doesn't know I'm with you. His
father has lost his position and has no income, and Bob thinks he ought
to resign to go to Chicago. He feels his duty is to be with his father
and mother. It would be such a pity for him to resign so near his
graduation. I thought perhaps you might send for him and influence him
more than I could. I'm sure he'll listen to you."
"By jingo, Stonewell," exploded Captain Blunt, "I'm detached from my
ship and ordered to duty as secretary of the Light House Board, and only
to-day received a letter asking me to recommend somebody, preferably one
familiar with marine matters, to be chief clerk to the board. Drake's
father would be just the man. He will get living pay and it's a life
position. Let me have Mr. Drake's address; I'll write to him to-night."
Upon his return to Bancroft Hall Stonewell found Robert quiet and
composed, but determined. "I've got to do it, Stone," said Robert
handing his roommate an ominously official-looking paper. In it he had
formally tendered his resignation as a midshipman. "It's a lifetime
disappointment," he continued, "but I've got to go home to my people.
They need me. Now I feel you're going to argue with me and I beg you not
to attempt to dissuade me; nothing you or anybody could say would change
my determination. I feel terribly about it and you would only make me
feel the worse. Please don't, Stone. I must do my duty to my father and
mother."
"I shall not attempt to dissuade you, Bob; I know exactly how you feel.
But I'm going to ask you to do something for me. I feel as if it would
break my heart if you were to resign. Now I'm going to ask you to let me
lend you fifty dollars. You can send this to your father, and if he is
in immediate need of money this will help out for a few days. And I want
you to promise me you will delay your resignation for one week. Surely
you can do this for me, and I have strong hopes that in a week's time
you will feel there is no need in Chicago that would compel your
resignation."
"That's awfully good of you, Stone, but can you spare the fifty dollars?
I feel I ought to leave immediately, but if I could send father some
money I might wait a week. The idea of resigning is like death to my
hopes."
"Of course I can; you know I've plenty of money," replied Stonewell,
jumping up enthusiastically. "I know something good is going to happen,
Bob, and don't you worry; you're not going to resign."
Stonewell's happiness was infectious and Robert's heart seemed lightened
from a heavy load. Stonewell had gained his point and he did not choose
that Robert should learn from him what Captain Blunt had in his mind for
Robert's father.
CHAPTER X
ROBERT GETS GOOD NEWS
The days following dragged slowly by for the apprehensive Robert. His
mind was full of the needs of his father and mother and it took real
effort on his part to attend to his duties and prepare his studies. He
anxiously awaited each mail delivery, but not until Saturday morning
after drill did any letters come from him. He and Stonewell entered
their rooms together and Robert fairly pounced on the two letters that
were awaiting him. Eagerly he tore open the letter in his father's
well-known handwriting, and rapidly read it. Then he gave a shout of
joy.
"What do you think, Stone?" he cried. "Here's the happiest news in the
world. Father writes me that Captain Blunt has secured a splendid
position for him, chief clerk of the Light House Board. Isn't that just
splendid? All of my worries are over; and father returns the fifty
dollars I sent him. I'm so happy, it seems as if a ton had been lifted
from me. I do hope I'll be able to convince Captain Blunt of my
gratitude to him. What a wonderful thing to have such a friend, Stone.
But how did he come to do it?" Robert paused a moment and then added:
"Stone, did you tell him of the trouble I was in?"
"Bob, I told him you felt it was your duty to resign, and I told him
why. I wanted an older friend than myself to advise you. It was a
liberty; but, by George, I can't feel it's a case for an apology. I am
just as happy as you are, Bob. Jingo! but Captain Blunt is a fine man."
"I do wish I could do something to show him how much I appreciate what
he has done for me!" exclaimed Robert.
"You can," rejoined Stonewell. "There's his son Harry. You can try to
help him out of trouble; he's pointed for a lot of it. There are rocks
and shoals ahead of him, and he's pretty certain to get bumped hard."
"I can't do anything for that youngster, Stone," replied Robert.
"Positively he never loses an opportunity of cheeking me."
"You may have the chance, Bob; but why don't you read your other
letter?"
"I forgot I had another letter. Hello, this is from Stanton; let's see
what he says."
"What! Stanton!" queried Stonewell. "Do you mean last year's five
striper?"
"Yes; what a splendid fellow he is. He says he is having a fine time
aboard the 'Paul Jones,' a torpedo boat destroyer, and he's learning a
lot. He says his ship made a good record at the last target practice but
it will do much better next time. His captain is devising a new sight
for the six-pounder gun; the one now attached to that style of gun is
very poor. Stanton says that anybody can get up a better sight, and now
the Navy Department is allowing officers to make improvements on the
guns they are going to fire at target practice. That's what our
instructor in gunnery said last October, don't you remember?"
"Yes, and by the way, Bob, now that your mind is easy about everything
you had better get busy if you expect your company to win the flag this
year. You've got a good company, but so has Blair, and he's red hot
after the flag. He'll wipe your eye, Bob, if you don't hustle. And it's
getting late in the year."
"That's right. I'll get busy next week. Let's see, now my company does
well in infantry and artillery; I ought to beat Blair in those
subjects."
"Yes, but Blair's company is pretty sure to get first place in
seamanship, and on the whole his company is better, more numerously
represented in the different forms of athletics than yours is. As an
offhand guess I would say the second company has a better show for the
flag than yours has. You see the total possible multiple for the entire
brigade is 3,000. Blair will probably get fifty points in fencing, and
he has a lot of fellows on the track and field teams; he'll probably get
100 points there; and the best gymnasts of the Academy belong to his
company; besides, the second company is certainly as well represented as
the first company in the football and baseball squads and in the crew.
You may make it, Bob, but you won't if you don't get your company
stirred up."
"By George, Stone," cried Robert, "I'd rather win that flag than have
five stripes. My company is all right; we will average just as well in
drills and in athletics as the second company. We haven't done much
talking of what we're going to do, but don't imagine we've forgotten
about the flag. We are after it, hard and strong."
"If you do win it, I'll wager a hundred dollars to an onion that you'll
deserve to win. Blair is not to be easily beaten," replied Stonewell.
"Let's go out and call on the Blunts," suddenly proposed Robert. "I want
to thank the captain."
"Don't say another word, Mr. Drake," Captain Blunt was saying to Robert
later the same day; "your feeling for your father is natural and does
you credit. I was really glad to be of service to him and to you; but
aside from all that, the Light House Board is glad to get your father
for its chief clerk; he is just the man we need. So we are all pleased.
How is my boy Harry coming along? By George! I could have sworn I saw
him ahead of me on Maryland Avenue to-day; you don't think Harry is
Frenching, do you?"
"I hope he isn't, captain. I should be inexpressibly sorry if he were
and I had to report him for it. You know he is in my company."
"If you find him Frenching I want you to report him," savagely rejoined
Captain Blunt. "Don't have any false notions on that subject, Mr.
Drake."
"That is a matter of great concern to me, captain," replied Robert in
tones of anxiety. "I'd almost prefer to bilge than to report your son
for a serious matter. He is a splendid fellow; everybody likes him and
admires him. But he is undoubtedly reckless and careless. The great
trouble to me is that he won't let me speak to him except officially. He
is impatient of advice and won't listen to any from me."
"Mr. Drake, I desire and expect you to report him when you ought to do
so. Don't worry about that."
Helen, growing impatient at this long conversation, said suddenly,
"Robert, I made some fudge this morning; won't you come back in the
pantry with me and help me bring it out?"
As soon as they were out of hearing, she said in a low voice: "Harry is
up-stairs again, and he can't come down to get away without father
seeing him. What shall I do? Harry is terribly afraid of his father."
"The only advice I can give you, Helen, is to tell your father he is
there. You can't cover up his tracks, and I don't know anybody except
his father who can influence him."
This advice to Helen seemed too explosive, and she felt she could devise
some way herself to protect Harry, and she must make him feel that he
must never, never do it again. So she remained silent.
When they returned to the drawing-room Robert felt ill at ease. Mrs.
Blunt, always sympathetically friendly to him, engaged him in talk; but
after a few minutes Robert got up to take his leave, accompanied by
Stonewell.
"Weren't you in a bit of a rush, Bob?" inquired Stonewell, glancing
keenly at his roommate.
"Perhaps," replied Robert uncomfortably.
"Perhaps you found young Blunt eating pie in the pantry," remarked
Stonewell.
"Not that close, Stone, but I guess he was in the house. Now what am I
to do? I can just see that before long I'll be in a fix where I'll have
to report young Blunt for a bilging offense, the son of the man that has
every claim to my gratitude--or else I'll have to go back on the
strongest principles I possess. What am I to do, Stone?"
"That's a hard problem; we'll think about it, and perhaps we may be able
to intimidate Blunt. Perhaps I may find a means to influence him. By the
way, did you know that the first class has late liberty to-night?
Penfield is going to play Richard the Third at the Colonial Theatre.
It's a great opportunity. I went to the commandant, and our class is
going to have eleven-thirty liberty. It's Penfield's best play; and I
already have our tickets. Aren't you pleased, Bob?"
Robert looked at his roommate in sheer astonishment. "Well, of all
things!" he said. "To think of your knowing that for hours and never
mentioning it. Why, I was talking with Mrs. Blunt and Helen about the
play and wishing I could go. I'm immensely pleased. But why didn't you
speak of it before, Stone?"
"Oh, I just didn't. In fact I haven't told anybody. The news will be
announced at supper formation, so you know it sooner than anybody else
does. And we'll have a glorious time."
"I'm delighted," cried Robert. "Stone, this is just fine. Bully for old
Dalton. He's a daisy commandant."
CHAPTER XI
"THREE GROANS FOR THE SUPERINTENDENT"
Great was the delight of first classmen at the privilege of theatre
liberty, a rare privilege for midshipmen; and loud and deep were the
indignant murmurs of midshipmen other than first classmen to whom this
privilege was not accorded.
"There's no reason, no reasonable reason why the second and third
classmen should not go," protested Third Classman Blunt at supper. "I'm
in favor of the whole third class going in a body; we'll show the
authorities what we think of the commandant's ridiculous treatment----"
"Mr. Blunt, you are called to order," rang out the sharp, dictatorial
voice of Cadet Lieutenant Drake, sitting at the head of the table. "You
are inciting mutiny and speaking disrespectfully of your superior
officers."
Harry Blunt was plainly cowed and subsided for a time; but later said in
a low tone to a classmate sitting on his right: "I'm going out anyway;
it won't be the first time I have gone over the wall."
"You'd be recognized at the theatre and spotted, and you'd be missed at
taps inspection; you had better not try it," was the reply.
"I guess you're right," grumbled Harry, "but I've a pretty good trick up
my sleeve, and I may work it."
Later, when the first classmen were all gone and the corridors were
deserted, Third Classman Blunt might have been seen to slip into room
number 23, the divisional officers' room. And in a few minutes he came
out looking perplexed and worried.
The Colonial Theatre was a gay sight that Saturday night. All of society
Annapolis was present, the ladies beautifully gowned, and the men in
correct evening dress. Annapolis prides itself on being as strict in
such matters as Newport. Interspersed throughout the audience were to be
seen many navy uniforms; and well toward the front and centre, in seats
reserved for them, were seated as fine a body of young men as had ever
been brought together, the senior class of midshipmen.
It seemed more like a friendly party than an ordinary audience, for
everybody knew everybody else, and before the curtain rose there were
innumerable greetings and much pleasant talk.
But to the "costume de rigeur" so faithfully observed by the
Annapolitans, there was one exception. In a back seat of a box, on the
right of the stage (a public box where seats were sold separately) sat a
man dressed in defiance of social custom. He was simply clothed in a
sack coat, and trousers of dark material. He wore a heavy moustache and
full pointed beard. However, he didn't seem to know anybody and none
appeared to notice him or worry over his unconventional attire.
Penfield had an appreciative audience that night. Never had anything so
fine been given at Annapolis, and enthusiastic delight was repeatedly
expressed.
At twenty minutes before ten the bearded man in the box suddenly left
and once outside of the theatre he started at a dead run toward the
Academy grounds. A convenient negro made twenty-five cents by boosting
him over the wall. The bearded man rushed on the Chesapeake Bay side of
the Armory and Bancroft Hall, ran over the terrace, and bolted into the
open window of room 23. The five minutes' warning bugle was soon heard,
to be followed by the call for taps. And in Bancroft Hall was to be
heard the measured tread of the midshipmen on duty making the ten
o'clock inspection of rooms.
Hardly had this ceased when the bearded man emerged from Bancroft Hall
by the same way he had entered it. He was off on a bound and ran through
the grounds unobserved. The wall presented no difficulty to him, and he
was soon back in his seat in the theatre box.
"What luck," he said to himself, with great satisfaction. "I got out in
the first place, got back again, was in my bed at taps inspection, and
now I'm back here and have missed only a little of the play. And nobody
saw me or knows anything about it."
The play proceeded. At a little before eleven, near the end, while some
scenery was being changed, the manager of the theatre stepped out on the
stage and called:
"Is Midshipman Stonewell present?"
"I am he," replied Stonewell, rising in his seat.
"I'm sorry, but the superintendent of the Naval Academy has just
telephoned me to have Midshipman Stonewell send in all midshipmen on the
run." Before Stonewell had a chance to reply or give an order, and
before the look of dismay and disappointment had disappeared from his
classmates' faces, everybody in the theatre was startled by a loud cry
in harsh, strident tones of:
"Midshipmen and everybody else, attention!"
An intense breathless stillness followed. Everybody looked to the
direction from where the cry had come. There, in the front of the right
hand box, stood a tall athletic looking man. Now a brown slouch hat was
pulled down on his forehead; his face was covered with a dark beard. He
wore a sack coat buttoned tightly over his chest.
By this penetrating voice everybody's attention was attracted. An
expectant hush fell upon the audience. Every eye was upon the bearded
stranger.
From the lips of the interrupter came a defiant call of:
"Three groans for the superintendent of the Naval Academy and the
commandant. Oh--oh--oh."
Without a moment's hesitation came ringing orders from Stonewell:
"First classmen, rise! March out on the double. Form in two ranks
outside."
There was no hesitation or delay in obeying Stonewell's order. Swiftly
they ran out of the theatre and halted on the walk outside. And almost
immediately they were put in motion by Stonewell's order of "First
classmen, forward, double time-march," and away they sped. Soon
fire-bells were heard ringing and the siren in the Academy grounds was
emitting long, terrifying blasts.
"Something's afire in the Naval Academy, Bob," cried Stonewell; "hurry."
The first classmen dashed to the Maryland Avenue gate and here were met
by streams of lower class midshipmen, starting to drag out the different
hose reels. The first classmen immediately assumed charge of their
various commands. The fire proved to be in the carpen-ter's shop, and
in a very few minutes it was put out.
After the midshipmen were back in their quarters the one topic of
conversation was the startling event in the theatre.
The next morning was Sunday. Shortly after ten o'clock, when the
commandant had finished his inspection of rooms, Cadet Lieutenant Drake
appeared at the door of Midshipman Blunt's room and said: "Blunt, report
to the commandant's office immediately."
Harry Blunt clutched the table as if for support, and with pallid face
and in trembling tones he asked: "What does he want me for?"
"You'll know when he tells you," and Robert walked out. It was not with
his usual debonair manner that Harry Blunt entered the commandant's
presence. In fact it was a very scared youth who confronted Commander
Dalton. Fear and apprehension were plainly depicted in his face.
"Mr. Blunt," commenced the commandant, "your father, mother and sister
are to dine at my house to-day, and I want you to come too. Your father
tells me he hasn't seen much of you of late; you are not on the first
conduct grade, are you? If you are not I'll dispense with the regulation
and grant you special permission to dine with an officer to-day."
Harry Blunt suddenly sat down on a chair behind him. He was momentarily
speechless.
"Sit down, Mr. Blunt," smiled the commandant. Then Harry stood up.
"Wa-wa-was that all you wanted to see me for?" he stammered.
"Yes; we dine at half-past one."
"Thank you, captain; I'll be delighted to dine with you and be with my
father. This is awfully kind of you, captain. Oh, thank you; yes,
indeed, I'll be there--I don't believe I've ever called on you, captain,
but--"
"Well, well, Mr. Blunt," interrupted the commandant, "what is the matter
with you? At first when you came into my office you seemed to be bereft
of speech, and all of a sudden you talk with such a rush that you can't
stop yourself. Perhaps you thought I was going to talk about something
else," and Commander Dalton glanced keenly at Harry.
"Be at my house by half-past one," repeated the commandant, dismissing
Harry, and the latter left. He took several deep breaths when out of the
commandant's office.
"By George," he said, almost aloud, in tones of great relief, "I feared
I was up against it. I was never so scared in all my life."
CHAPTER XII
ROBERT MAKES A DISCOVERY
"Pete," said Robert a few days later, "let's go to the gun shed."
"All right," replied the amiable Peters, "come along; but what are we to
do there? I don't know of any more uninteresting place in the whole
Academy."
"You know that our company is going to try hard to win the flag, don't
you?"
"Of course we are. And so is every other company. Don't think for a
minute, Bob, that you're the only cadet lieutenant who has picked out
the girl who's going to present it. But what has the gun shed to do with
our company winning the flag?"
"It all counts, Pete; you know part of the grand multiple each company
makes is made up of its record at target practice with six-pounder guns,
don't you?"
"Of course."
"Well, I received a letter from Stanton last week; he says the sights
of this gun are very poor. Now in our gunnery sections we were all
encouraged to make improvements. You see gunnery in the navy is now a
matter of terrific competition; it is ship against ship and gun against
gun. At each target practice the ship that does the best carries the
gunnery trophy for a year, and big money prizes are won by the best gun
crews. And officers in command of different guns are encouraged to make
improvements. Why, just before the Spanish war the twelve-inch guns of
the 'Texas' could only shoot once in five minutes, and then the shots
didn't hit often. On her last target practice those same guns fired once
a minute and hit the target almost every time. And the improvements were
all made by officers aboard the ship."
"Well, Bob, here is your six-pounder gun; just take a look at it. I
don't imagine you will be allowed to do much tinkering with it. You
don't know a great deal about the gun--not nearly so much as the men who
designed and built it--and here you are talking about improving it. You
would probably injure rather than improve it."
"I know how to work it, anyway, and I have fired a six-pounder a number
of times," replied Robert, rapidly throwing down a couple of clamps, and
turning the gun on its pivot.
"I have no notion of touching the mechanism of the gun; but Stanton says
the gun sights are poor; that anybody could put better sights on the
gun."
Robert now put himself at the rear of the gun, assuming the prescribed
position of the man who fired it, holding it securely by the shoulder
and hand of his right arm, his left hand being at the trigger. He ran
his eye over the gun sights, and moved the gun up and down, and from
side to side.
"Pete," he remarked, "look at this rear sight; it's an open sight--just
a mere notch, a groove. And the forward sight is just a sharp point. If
I screw my eye up or down, or from side to side, I might think there
were many different places the gun would shoot to. When the gun is fired
in this exact position the shot is going in only one direction, but I
bet you if ten different fellows should aim along these sights as the
gun is now and say where the shot was going to hit you would find there
were ten different opinions."
"Of course there would be," replied Peters in a superior tone; "there
always are with open sights; professional marksmen always use
peep-sights."
"Pete, you're a treasure," cried Robert in enthusiastic approval; "we'll
fit peep-sights to this gun, but we'll keep it a dead secret, and when
we come to fire our string of shots we'll use our own peep-sights."
"How are you going to fit peep-sights to this gun and not have everybody
else know about it?" asked Peters dubiously. "And we only practice with
this gun; we will actually fire one of the 'Nevada's' six-pounders,--and
probably the sight you fitted to this gun wouldn't fit the 'Nevada's.'"
"Let's go aboard the 'Nevada'; she's alongside the 'Santee' wharf, and
we'll talk to the captain. I know him, and we'll ask him to let us fit
up the six-pounder we're going to use. There's a gunner's mate named
Lenn aboard that ship who is a great friend of mine; he's awfully handy
with tools, and he'll help me."
"But, Bob, a captain isn't going to let a midshipman monkey with the
guns of his ship."
"The 'Nevada' is in reserve with a crew of only thirty-five men on
board; she's here for the instruction of midshipmen, and besides, we're
not going to make any permanent change; we're going to invent a new
six-pounder gun sight; we'll just take off the old sights and put in our
own peep-sights; the captain can put the other ones back if he wants
to."
"You talk as if you had already invented your peep-sights and all you
had to do was to put them on. Now let me tell you, Bob, it isn't so
all-fired easy. This gun isn't fitted for peep-sights. Another thing,
the rear sight is attached here to a graduated bar; it moves up and down
according to the distance of the target you are firing at, and it also
moves from side to side, to allow for the speed of the ship. Now you're
going to have a good deal of trouble to arrange an entire new kind of
sights for this gun."
"Pete, those are problems that I'm sure can be solved. I don't pretend
to say I know just how we can make the change, but I'm going to study
the question, and I'm going to get expert help. Now let's go over to the
'Nevada' and talk with Captain Brice; we've got to get his consent
first; and then I'll get that smart gunner's mate, Lenn, to help me;
he's a very inventive chap. Come along."
Before long the two midshipmen were aboard the monitor "Nevada" and were
talking with Captain Brice. At first the latter was utterly opposed to
any "monkeying," as he expressed it, with one of his guns. Finally he
became interested in Robert's earnestness, and relented to the extent of
the following ultimatum:
"Now, Mr. Drake, I'll allow you to remove the present sights of one of
my six-pounders; the sights are kept out of the gun, anyway, for that
matter; and in their places you may put in new sights. But you are not
to alter the gun in any way; you must fix it so that any sights you put
in can be immediately replaced by the regular sights. I'll send for the
man you want, Lenn, and tell him to give you a hand."
Chief Gunner's Mate Lenn soon appeared, and he and the two midshipmen
repaired to the forward starboard six-pounder on the superstructure
deck, where Robert explained what he wanted. Lenn grasped the idea with
avidity.
"Why, Mr. Drake," he said, "we can fix up what you want with no trouble
at all. A sight is a simple thing--the principle is that the centre line
of the gun's bore must be exactly parallel to the line of sight at
point-blank range with no speed allowance. Now you want a peep-sight.
We'll get a hollow cylinder, say an inch in diameter, and an inch or two
long; we'll plug the end and drill a fine hole in the end of your plug.
There's the peep. And the forward sight will be a ring with cross wires
in it. Now your line from the peep-hole to the cross wires must be
parallel to the axis of the gun. And while I think of it the rear and
front sights should be as far apart as possible; I'll tell you what
we'll do; we'll carry the sight at the end of a long piece of brass
pipe; I've just the stuff in my storeroom. I'll fit a Y piece to where
the present front sight is, pivot it there and hang the forward part of
the pipe in its gimbals. I'll just run a quarter-inch pin through the
pipe; and I'll drop the rear end of the brass pipe on this rear
sight--I'll have to make a slight alteration in this rear sight----"
"You can't change a thing, Lenn, you mustn't," interrupted Robert.
"Captain Brice will not allow any changes of the gun----"
"Oh, I've an old condemned rear sight below; I'll use that," smiled
Lenn. "Now we'll fasten our new front cross wire and rear peep-sights to
the ends of our brass pipe--why, anybody can see at a glance it will be
a far better arrangement than the present poor system."
When Robert and Peters left Lenn said: "Come aboard the 'Nevada' in two
days from now and you'll find your new sights on this gun ready for
business."
On the following Saturday, after supper, Robert and Stonewell were
enjoying a pleasant call at the Blunt household. Captain Blunt was
telling Stonewell of the last target practice his ship had gone through.
"Why, sir," he said, "if my six-pounders had not done so poorly I would
surely have won the trophy; my six-inch guns averaged seven hits a
minute, each of the best guns making ten hits. If we had had decent
sights for our six-pounders the 'New Orleans' would have made the best
record of any ship of her class in the navy."
Robert was eagerly listening, and was much interested, but Helen Blunt
wasn't.
"Father," she interrupted, "you talk of nothing but guns, guns, guns and
hits per minute. Now that isn't nearly so interesting to midshipmen as
ice-cream and cake. Robert, come along to the pantry with me and help me
get some."
That young man was on the point of asking Captain Blunt a question about
six-pounder gun sights, but Helen was already on her way toward the
hall; so he thought his question could wait, and he started to join
Helen. She had gone to the rear of the house, to the pantry next the
kitchen. The passageway was dark, but Robert knew the way, and he
hurried after Helen, and soon ran right into her.
"You are a regular blunderer, aren't you, Robert?" she laughed. "I am
trying to turn on the light but can't find the key. What a bother it is
that in Annapolis all the servants go home at night--and there goes the
doorbell. I'll have to go see who it is. Now try to find the switch;
it's somewhere near on this wall. Just feel about and you'll find it. I
hope you're not afraid to be left in the dark," was her parting shot,
"but the kitchen door is locked, so that no burglars can get in." And
Helen ran away.
Robert groped about, but could not find the switch to the electric
light, and while he was fumbling his ear caught the noise of a click in
the kitchen, as if a door had been unlocked. A moment later he heard a
door opened, and with it he felt the draft blow on him.
"Some one has let himself into the kitchen," thought Robert. He kept
quite still, wondering who it might be. Then he heard footsteps on the
kitchen floor; they seemed quite close to him and he felt confident
there was an intruder there. He peered through the open door of the
pantry into the kitchen, but in the dark could see nothing; suddenly an
electric light in the kitchen was turned on, and Robert, himself unseen,
looked with fascination on the person he saw.
There standing by a table was a man with a brown slouch hat drawn down
over his eyes, a man with a heavy moustache and dark pointed beard; he
was dressed in a dark sack coat, buttoned closely across his chest and
wore trousers of a dark material.
Robert felt his breath come quickly.
"What can this man be doing here?" he wondered. "I know him; he's the
scoundrel who called for three groans for the superintendent and
commandant."
Robert had a confused idea that the stranger might be a thief and he was
wondering what he had best do, when suddenly a feeling of dismay and
horror swept over him. The stranger threw off his hat, and with a quick
movement of each hand unhooked from around his ears the support of what
was evidently a false beard. And the merry face of Harry Blunt was
revealed.
It is difficult to analyze Robert's feelings, but chief among them was
an utter detestation for Harry. That a midshipman, himself the son of a
splendid officer, should be the miscreant who had so wantonly, so
publicly, insulted the highest officers at the Naval Academy, filled
Robert with disgust.
[Illustration: _THE STRANGER THREW OFF HIS HAT_]
For a midshipman to take unauthorized leave was a common offense, so
also was it for a midshipman to have civilian clothing in his
possession. Such offenses were committed at great personal risk and when
detected brought down upon the offender's head severe punishment, and if
repeated it meant dismissal. But reprehensible from a military
view-point as it was, such an offense was not dishonorable.
Since the event at the Colonial Theatre none at Annapolis had ever had
the slightest notion that the perpetrator of the insult of that night
could be a midshipman; such an idea never was suggested, never even
entered any person's mind. And so to Robert, his recognition of Harry
Blunt as the culprit was as astounding as it was painful. He loathed
Harry as an utterly unfit, dishonorable person, who had done shameful
wrong to the Naval Academy. And immediately there arose in Robert's mind
the knowledge that it was his duty to report Harry to the commandant, to
report the son of his benefactor.
In agonized perplexity Robert turned and quietly walked through the
dining-room to the hall.
"Did you find the cakes and things in the pantry, Robert?" cried Helen
seeing him, "or did you get tired waiting for me? Mr. Farnum called, and
he comes so seldom I felt I couldn't run away from him. Why, Robert,
what's the matter? You have such a strange look on your face. What is
it?"
"I--I couldn't find the light, Helen, I----"
"Oh, come back and try it again. But what is the matter, Robert? I'm
sure something's the matter."
"I'm not feeling well, Helen. I--I--have to go--I can't stay,--please
say good-night to your father and mother--I really must go," and with
utter misery showing in every feature, Robert grabbed his hat and bolted
out of the house.
CHAPTER XIII
HARRY BLUNT IS REBUFFED
Helen Blunt was grieved and hurt at Robert's strange action. It was
incomprehensible to her. The others expressed much surprise at his
sudden leaving. After a few minutes Helen got the refreshments, but she
was much subdued for the rest of the evening, and it was only too
evident that the pleasure of the day had gone for her.
Robert hurried back to the Academy and was soon in his room.
"I can't report him," he reflected. "I know I'm going back on my rank,
on my duty, on my principles, on what I've preached ever since I've been
at the Academy. The contemptible hound! He ought to be kicked out! It's
a shame that such a despicable person should have such a fine father and
mother--and--and sister. It's outrageous that he should remain here. But
his father saved my father--I can't report him; it would utterly
disgrace Captain Blunt--I'm full of gratitude to him--I suppose I have
no right to let that gratitude interfere with my duty; but I can't help
myself."
For the next hour Robert indulged himself in many bitter reflections,
but his conclusions were unchanged, and he deliberately determined to
keep to himself what he had learned, neither to report Harry Blunt nor
to tell even Stonewell what he had seen.
Stonewell came in a little before ten o'clock. "What's the matter with
you, Bob?" he asked almost roughly. "Do you think you treated the Blunts
very politely? You spoiled Helen's evening, and I could see Captain and
Mrs. Blunt were concerned; they must have thought you acted very
queerly, to say the least."
"I'm sorry, Stone--I couldn't help it. Please don't talk about it to
me."
Stonewell glanced keenly at his roommate's worried face. "Look here,
Bob, when you went out to the pantry did you see young Blunt? Has that
scamp been Frenching again?"
"Stone, except once, you have practically never discussed your personal
matters with me; I never insist on it, intimate as we are. Now this is a
personal matter of a kind that I just can't talk about; please don't
expect me to."
"All right, Bob; but it's my opinion you feel you ought to report Blunt
for Frenching and you feel you can't because you're under obligation of
lasting gratitude to his father; and so you feel you're going back on
your principles, and so forth. Now you were not on duty; no reasonable
man would expect you to violate your own feelings to that extent. So
cheer up, Bob; I'll tell you right now that if when I'm not on duty I
find young Blunt Frenching in his father's house, I most certainly shall
not report him."
To this Robert made no comment, but in his heart thought that if his
roommate knew what a scoundrel Blunt was, that Stonewell would be the
very first to report him.
Taps soon sounded, and before long Robert was in bed; but long hours
passed before sleep came to him. "What a lot of terrible rogues I've
been mixed up with," was one of the thoughts that came to his mind;
"there was Hillman, Ramsay, Williams, and now this detestable Blunt.
And of them all I fear Blunt is the worst."
The next afternoon Stonewell went to Blunt's room and found that young
man there alone. "Hello, Stone," greeted Blunt; "but now that football
is over perhaps I should say Mister Stonewell to the five striper."
"Never mind the 'Mister,' Blunt. I thought I'd drop around to tell you
that I think you are an unintentional cad."
"Your words are offensive, sir," cried Harry, getting angry immediately;
"I'm not aware of any Naval Academy regulation that permits the cadet
commander to insult a third classman."
"I don't wish to insult you, Blunt, and I admit my words require
explanation. The point is just this: Bob Drake, your company commander,
is entirely upset about something. He will not talk about it to me, and
has no idea of my seeing you about the matter. He was out at your
father's house last night, and I've a notion you were Frenching out
there and he saw you. You probably know he has very strict notions of
duty. My idea is that he feels he should report you or else go back on
every principle he ever had. And for a particular reason he cannot
report you."
"Oh," replied Harry disdainfully, "if the reason is that he is currying
favor with Helen most people would say Drake is the cad."
"It isn't your sister, Blunt. It's your father, whom he owes a debt of
gratitude to."
"Why should Drake be grateful to my father?" exclaimed Harry in evident
surprise.
"For personal reasons. I don't feel at liberty to talk about them,
except to say that a couple of weeks ago a kind action on your father's
part saved Drake from resigning. You see Drake cannot report your
father's son; and come now, wouldn't a man be a cad to force a man like
Drake to go back on his principles?"
"Good old dad," cried Harry impulsively; "I was a cad, but I'm glad you
said unintentionally so. I'd have had no use for Drake if it had been on
Helen's account. But really I didn't know Drake saw me last night. Are
you sure he did?"
"I have just imagined so; you ought to know whether he did or not. He
was at your house last night; at half-past eight he went out in the
pantry to get something and all of a sudden bolted out of the house. He
won't speak of the matter even to me, but he has been miserable ever
since."
"By Jove!" ejaculated Harry. "Perhaps he saw me in the cit's clothes;
that would be a bilging spot,[2] wouldn't it?"
[Footnote 2: A report involving dismissal.]
"I shouldn't wonder," remarked Stonewell, drily.
"Stonewell, I'm obliged to you, and I'll tell you right now I won't give
Drake another chance to report me for Frenching; I'm awfully sorry the
thing happened. I'll tell him I'll do the square thing hereafter."
In the meantime Robert and Peters had gone aboard the "Nevada"; Lenn saw
them coming. "Come up above," he said to them; "I've something to show
you." When Robert saw what this something was he was delighted. Lenn had
fitted up the forward starboard six-pounder gun with the gun sights they
had talked about.
"I've bore sighted the gun, Mr. Drake. Just train the gun on that white
stone on the shore over there; look through your peep-sight and get the
gun exactly on it. All right. Now shift your eye to the bore; the bore
sights are in the gun. Now what do you say?"
"It's wonderful," cried Robert; "are these bore sights in the exact
centre of the gun?"
"Within a hair's breadth."
"Both the new gun sights and the bore sights are pointing at the white
stone. The stone is over half a mile away. That means the line of the
gun sights is parallel to the axis of the gun, doesn't it?"
"It does, indeed," replied Lenn, much pleased with Robert's enthusiastic
approval.
"Let me see," insisted Peters, pushing Robert away from the breech of
the gun. "Gee, but this is splendid," he called out a moment later.
"Say, Bob, if you keep this quiet you'll make the gunnery record next
June."
"Lenn, can we prevent people from seeing these sights?"
"Surely. I'll take them down when you leave; it only takes a minute to
take them off the gun. I'll keep them in my storeroom when you're not
using them; but, Mr. Drake, if you expect to make a good target record
you'll have lots of work to do. You'll have to get your crew here day
after day, for at least half an hour's drill. I'll be here to help you."
"Good. And thank you, Lenn; I'll start to-morrow." And the two
midshipmen left the ship.
"Now, Pete," said Robert, "we must organize to win the flag. Our company
is well represented in all forms of athletics; we have football and
baseball stars in it; now you and I and Glassfell and a couple of others
will quietly drill with this gun. And at target practice we'll spring a
great surprise on everybody. Whom had we better put in the gun's crew
with us?"
"Well, let's see. There's young Blunt, he's a----"
"Don't speak of that fellow to me," interrupted Robert savagely.
"Why, Bob, what has he done; why are you so down on him?" inquired
Peters, utterly surprised at Robert's vehemence.
"I want nothing to do with him. I don't wish to talk about him."
"All right, old man, I'll think of some one else. Will see you later."
As soon as Robert saw his roommate later in the day, he began eagerly to
tell him of his plans. "I'm going out to win the flag, Stone. My company
stands as good a chance, better, I believe, than any other company to
win it. But I'm going to make sure of it. Now you drill with my company,
and what you individually do will count."
"Of course. And I'll do all I can. I want you to come out for the crew,
Bob; you've pulled in two winning races----"
"I can't, Stone; now just listen to what I've done," and Robert told
Stonewell of the new six-pounder gun sights and of what he expected to
accomplish. "You see I'll not be able to come out for racing shell
practice, and besides, you don't need me--my company is well represented
in all athletics and if we win at target practice we'll get the flag."
Here the door was thrown open and Harry Blunt entered. Robert jumped to
his feet, and with flashing eyes and in angry tones asked: "What do you
want, sir?"
"Why, Drake," replied Harry, completely taken back by this hostile
reception, "I just thought I would tell you that if any act of mine has
disturbed you, if I have forced you in a false position, I extremely
regret it; I hope you will have no further concern because of me."
"Mr. Blunt, will you please leave my room? I despise you and I want
nothing whatever to do with you."
"This is decent of you, Blunt, and I thank you for coming in," suddenly
interposed Stonewell. "I know your motive, and it's all right!"
Harry Blunt stood in the doorway utterly chagrined. Tears came into his
eyes and his chin quivered. Then without comment he left the room.
Stonewell was extremely provoked. "He came in at my suggestion," he
angrily said.
"I believe you," replied Robert calmly.
"I don't like the way you have acted. I don't understand you."
"Stone, I despise Blunt. There is a reason. You think you know it, but
you are mistaken. Now, old friend, I cannot talk this matter over with
you; I can but ask you to trust me, also to avoid discussing that young
man when I am around."
Stonewell was not inclined at first to be satisfied with this, but he
soon decided to drop the matter; and several months passed before
Midshipman Harry Blunt was discussed between them.
CHAPTER XIV
A MYSTERY SOLVED
The end of March brought with it to Annapolis a veritable blizzard; the
ground everywhere was covered with snow. The soft snow, clinging to the
tree branches, had commenced to melt, when promise of good weather
suddenly changed to sharp cold, followed by another snow-storm. The
intense cold had turned the trees into glistening skeletons, and the
powdered white falling upon them made a beautiful picture, but the
weight caused many branches to break, and Annapolis presented a most
wintry spectacle. And then of a sudden out burst the sun, sending down
hot rays that in a few days turned winter into spring. In but a short
time all the trees were budding and spring, turning rapidly into summer,
came with leaps and bounds and the bleak desolate days were soon
forgotten.
There remained to Robert Drake but two months more of Academy life--two
months of deep contentment. He surveyed his previous four years and drew
much satisfaction in contemplating them. He was sure to graduate high in
his class, with probably only Stonewell, Farnum, Sewall and Ryerson
ahead of him. He had had troubles, but everything now seemed clear
sailing before him.
Midshipmen enjoy these last months of the school year. Out of town
friends by the hundreds come to Annapolis, and after drills and on
Saturdays and Sundays, the Naval Academy grounds are thronged with
pretty girls, each flanked by at least one midshipman, and some by ten.
Every afternoon saw the midshipmen at their infantry or artillery
drills, marching and executing military movements with precision that
betokened much practice; or if not on the parade grounds the young men
were to be seen in the steam launches, or else in the shops. After drill
hours till seven o'clock four racing shells were out on the Severn
River. The athletic field was sure to be crowded by baseball players;
the tennis-courts always had a waiting list. And far off on the
superstructure deck of the "Nevada," unknown and unseen by other
midshipmen, were Robert Drake and four classmates, practicing loading
and aiming with a six-pounder gun. Day after day this drill went on,
always in recreation times.
Robert took the shoulder-piece, finger on trigger, keeping his gun aimed
at some boat moving in the Severn River. He was, according to the
prescribed gun drill, "First Pointer."
Peters was the "sight setter." He ran up the rear sight according to the
distance away of the object aimed at, and also he would move the rear
sight to the right or left, according to the speed the boat was moving.
Glassfell was loader, and as such acting gun captain. Robert picked out
two other classmates, Taylor and Warren, to act as shell-men.
"All ready now, fellows," cried Glassfell, late one beautiful April day;
"let's have one more drill to-night and then we'll knock off. We'll
start with the gun empty and breech closed. Lenn, you throw down the
breech as usual after each make-believe shot--you won't have to when we
really fire the gun because the gun is semi-automatic and the discharge
of one shot opens the breech, ready to load the next one."
"I learned that years ago, Mr. Glassfell. But I'll open the breech for
you. We're all ready, sir."
"Load," rang out Glassfell's voice. Down went the breech, and instantly
Glassfell threw in a dummy cartridge, and up slammed the breech, closing
the gun with a click.
Robert snapped the trigger, and instantly Lenn threw down the breech;
the dummy was ejected and Glassfell threw in another cartridge. This was
repeated again and again, until Lenn called out "time."
"That was well done, sir; you loaded and fired twenty-nine times in a
minute; I kept time; there wasn't a hitch. You have a well-trained crew,
Mr. Drake."
On the way back, Robert met Helen Blunt walking with her brother. There
was no question but that Helen expected Robert to stop and speak with
her. She slackened her pace a bit, bowing to Robert with a sort of mute
reproach in her manner; Robert hesitated a moment, then turned and
joined her, while Harry Blunt walked on ahead, neither he nor Robert
giving any greeting.
"What's the matter? Don't you and Harry speak?" asked Helen, in a
surprised, hurt way.
"Midshipmen never seem to have time for that sort of thing," said
Robert, trying to speak lightly. "Men of different classes seldom speak
unless they are particular friends. Let's go down to the sea-wall,
Helen, and watch the shells; I do hope we'll win this year; we ought to,
we've splendid men on the crew. What have you been doing lately? I
haven't seen you for an age, and there's----"
"Well, whose fault is that?" interrupted Helen with some spirit; "you
bolted out of the house the other night as though you feared contagion,
and I haven't seen you or heard from you since. I should think you would
have something to tell me or explain."
"Yes, yes, Helen, I have ever so many things I want to speak to you
about," and then Robert dropped into silence as they walked along.
"We've been such friends," said Helen quietly, "and had so many
unforeseen things happen, that it seems as though we ought to get along
without any more misunderstandings in the future; and yet we seem to be
having one now. You have suddenly stopped coming to see me; surely there
was a reason, Robert; what was it?"
Robert felt supremely miserable and uncomfortable; he did not know what
to say. There was a reason, and yet he could not tell it to this
sympathetic and congenial girl whose friendship he was so anxious to
keep; he could not tell this reason, nor could he pretend there was
none. It would be no act of kindness to Captain Blunt to inform him of
the unworthiness of his son. And so Robert did not wish Helen to know
that Harry was in any way concerned with the matter Helen wished to talk
about.
"What's the reason, Robert?" repeated Helen with her eyes full of
interest and concern.
Just then, the far-away bell of the "Santee" was struck four times. "Six
o'clock," exclaimed Robert; "we've a whole hour before supper; let's
walk along the sea-wall to College Creek and back; we'll just have time
to do it." Poor Robert then relapsed into silence; he was happy to be
with his friend again and eager to tell her that he could not explain
his peculiar conduct; but he could not talk.
His mind was in confusion, yet seemed a blank; and the trivial things
about him took a prominence that in milder moods would have remained
unnoticed. He noted with the eye of a naturalist a squirrel that
scampered across their path, and ran along the fence, disappearing up a
maple tree; two robins were scolding and fussing in the tree top near
their nest. And from the coxswain of the racing shell, out in the Severn
River, came regularly, like the tick-tock of a clock, the monotonous
words--"Stroke--Stroke--Stroke." Thump, thump, thump went his heart.
"Stroke--Stroke--Stroke," called out the ruthless coxswain to his tired
crew on the river a quarter of a mile away.
Robert did not know what to say. His heart was so full he could not
speak lightly. Helen looked straight ahead and said nothing, waiting no
doubt for Robert to begin his explanation. Each was intensely
uncomfortable. After Maryland Avenue was crossed, Helen turned to her
companion and wistfully said: "I thought you had so much to talk with me
about, Robert; but you haven't said a word. What is the matter; are we
not good friends? Or is there some misunderstanding which prevents our
talking to each other?"
"Oh, Helen," cried he, "I'm awfully disturbed about something. It is of
such a peculiar nature that I can't talk about it to any one. Can't you
trust me and not ask me to explain myself? You see sometimes things
occur that a midshipman can't talk about--it has nothing to do with any
action of yours or mine,--I think so much of your friendship that it
distresses me to appear as if I had any other feeling----"
"Robert, if you really are so anxious for my friendship, what Naval
Academy affair could happen that would send you running out of my house
and that would prevent you coming to see me?"
Then a great light broke upon her, and stopping suddenly, she confronted
Robert and said excitedly:
"Robert Drake, I understand at last. You saw Harry that night, after I
left you in the pantry. It was your duty, I suppose, to report him and
you didn't do so because of--of the rest of us. And you haven't called
since because you are afraid you will see him again. I'm right, I know
I'm right!"
Robert looked helplessly at her, and then said: "Helen, you and I have
been good friends, haven't we? And can't good friends expect favors of
one another? Now I've a real favor to ask of you, and it's this. Don't
think of this matter, and please, oh, please, don't talk about it. Don't
talk about it to your father and mother; I beg of you don't refer to the
matter in any way."
"Robert, I really will do as you want me to, though I don't see why you
have been so much upset. Harry isn't Frenching any more; he has promised
me not to do that again. And even if he should you will not know of it
or see him at my home; but I'm confident he won't, now that he has given
me his word. Won't you come next Saturday and have supper with us? And
bring Mr. Stonewell and Mr. Farnum with you."
Robert returned to his room in a happy mood. He had worried much at how
the Blunts would look upon his abrupt action, and of his sudden
avoidance of their home. He had decided not to call so as to take no
chance of seeing Harry Blunt there, and he knew he could never explain
the reason of his action to any of the Blunts. But now he felt that
Helen, in a way at least, understood; she would require no further
explanation and would not gossip about his reasons. And also he believed
that Helen would so arrange it that he would run no chance of seeing
Harry Blunt at her home when that young man had no right to be outside
of the Academy grounds.
And so Robert felt more light-hearted than for many days, so much so
that after supper, while preparing for the next day's recitation,
Stonewell, who knew his roommate's every mood, looked up smiling and
said:
"Well, Bob, what is it; have you won the flag ahead of time, or have you
made up with Helen Blunt? I've noticed you haven't been going to her
house much of late; and for some time past you've been as glum as a
Russian bear."
"Never you mind, Stone, I'm just feeling pretty fit, that's all."
Ten o'clock soon came, and with it out went the lights in Bancroft Hall
and a perfect stillness broken only by the tread of midshipmen making
taps inspection. Soon this measured tread ceased and complete silence
reigned.
And then out of this profound stillness came again that terrible cry,
shrieked out in affright, startling every midshipman in the armory wing
of Bancroft Hall. "Help! Help!" Far away it first seemed, and yet it was
plainly heard.
With lightning speed Stonewell leaped from his bed and jumped into his
clothes.
"Turn out, Bob," he cried. "I've a job to do, and won't be with you;
turn out everybody in armory wing; tell Farnum to have everybody fall in
by companies on the ground and first floors," and Stonewell dashed from
the room.
Again the weird shriek sounded, now heard much plainer. Robert had
followed Stonewell out of the room, and ran down the corridor shouting:
"Turn out, everybody! Company officers, get your companies together!"
Midshipmen from all the rooms poured into the corridors.
"Help, help, save me, save me!" in agonized fearful tones were
resounding throughout the building. And these cries became clearer on
the lower floors. They seemed to have started from above and to have
come down gradually.
"Help, help," rang out the cry, now apparently on the first floor; it
seemed to come right from the midst of a throng of midshipmen falling
into their places in company formation; these were entirely mystified.
And then the cry descended and was heard on the floor below, the ground
floor.
"Where is Stone?" asked Robert of Farnum; "do you know where he went? He
said he had a job to do."
"I turned out when I heard that awful yell," replied Farnum, "and I saw
Stone run down these stairs into the basement. I wonder why he went down
there."
Robert and Farnum were standing before the first division of midshipmen
in the middle of the corridor, just in front of the stairway that led to
the basement. "Where is Mr. Stonewell?" called the officer-in-charge,
Lieutenant-Commander Brooks; "look overhead in each corridor--what's
that going on on the stairway?" he suddenly exclaimed, interrupting
himself.
A midshipman was seen fairly running up the dark stairway, dragging by
the collar of his coat another midshipman, who was vainly endeavoring to
regain his balance and foothold.
The first midshipman was Stonewell. In a moment he had reached the head
of the stairway, and then, with a mighty effort, he hurled his heavy
burden from him.
"It's Bligh," cried out Robert.
"What does this mean, Mr. Stonewell?" demanded Lieutenant-Commander
Brooks, in wondering accents. Fourth Classman Bligh presented a rueful,
crestfallen figure. Stonewell had handled him with no gentle force, and
at the head of the stairway had thrown Bligh violently from him; and he
now lay in a heap on the floor. But evidently he was not seriously
injured, for he commenced to sob convulsively.
Stonewell came up to Lieutenant-Commander Brooks and quietly said: "Sir,
some time ago I thought I learned the source of the mysterious cries we
heard then and which were repeated a few minutes ago. I went up into the
tower and saw a boatswain's chair in the ventilating shaft which leads
from the top of the building to the basement. This boatswain's chair was
on a long rope which led through a pulley block overhead, and by it a
man can lower himself from the top of the building to the basement in
the ventilating shaft--I suppose it's there so that a person can lower
himself to make any repairs that are needed in the shaft. When I heard
the cry to-night I ran to the basement--to the opening of the
ventilating shaft--and before long I could see somebody coming down. I
didn't know who it was, but suspected it was Bligh, and it was. He gave
his last yell when he was even with this floor. Then he lowered himself
to the bottom and I collared him just as he got down."
Mr. Bligh was a pitiable spectacle. "It was only a joke, sir," he gasped
incoherently. "I meant to do no harm, sir; it was just a little fun. Mr.
Stonewell had no occasion to use me so roughly--he hurt me, sir."
"Go to my office immediately, sir," ordered Lieutenant-Commander
Brooks. "I will attend to your case later. Mr. Stonewell, you have done
well, as usual. Dismiss the battalion, turn everybody in, and have the
usual inspection made," and the officer-in-charge left and returned to
his office.
Fourth Classman Henry Bligh got up slowly. He looked from face to face;
not one friendly expression did he find.
Full of pent-up feelings which he dared not express Bligh turned and
left.
"Dismiss the battalion, sir," ordered Cadet Commander Stonewell to Cadet
Lieutenant-Commander Farnum.
"Companies are dismissed," rang out through the corridor. "Go to your
rooms immediately and turn in. Company officers make the usual taps
inspection."
CHAPTER XV
STONEWELL RECEIVES A LETTER
When Henry Bligh became a midshipman he was not at all a vicious young
man. But he arrived at Annapolis with an unformed character. His
predominating trait was a desire for applause, and early in his fourth
class year his football ability had many times earned for him vociferous
applause. It was his predominating desire, a passion to become
personally famous, that had urged him to give the signal for the Gates
forward pass when playing against Harvard--the dishonor attached to the
act had not been clearly fixed in his mind. The immediate result, his
dismissal from the football squad in disgrace, his execration by the
entire brigade of midshipmen--the change of his position from one of
bright fame to contemptuous disesteem, had immediate effect upon the
unformed character of Mr. Henry Bligh. He was plunged in the blackest
of gloom and he brooded day and night over his troubles.
It was a pity he had no close friend to talk with, no older midshipman
to be advised by. Amongst the midshipmen there had been a burst of anger
against him and then he had been left entirely alone.
No organized "coventry" was declared against him, but a most effective,
far-reaching one existed. Its direct result was to make Bligh
continually unhappy, and this engendered in him passionate anger. Anger
must find an object, and Bligh's directed its full force upon Stonewell
and Blunt. The former, so he believed, had been the cause of all of his
troubles; the latter had supplanted him at football, had defeated him in
a personal fight.
On that first night when the midshipmen of Bancroft Hall had been so
startled by the awful cry of "Save me," Bligh had been in the basement;
he heard the cries and found Farnum, out of his head, seated in the
boatswain's chair at the bottom of the ventilating shaft. Bligh of
course immediately knew what had happened, but he kept this knowledge to
himself.
On the night spoken of in the last chapter, Bligh had been on the sick
list, and therefore was excused from company muster. It occurred to him
that he could perpetrate this act and scare the hundreds of midshipmen
who had showered such contumelious treatment upon him.
It really would have been a good joke had it succeeded, but
unfortunately for Bligh his detection rendered his position almost
unbearable. He had been roughly treated by Stonewell; and now whenever
he passed a cadet officer he was halted and given directions.
"Brace up, Mr. Bligh, put your heels together, little fingers on the
seams of your trousers, chest out, belly in, head up, chin in."
Had the joke been done by Glassfell or perhaps any upper classman it
would have been laughed at. But to have been perpetrated by a plebe was
an indignity to time-honored midshipman custom. And that the plebe
should have been Mr. Bligh made the act worse than an indignity; it was
an unbearable thought. And so for a while Plebe Bligh figured on every
delinquency conduct report. Cadet officers suddenly discovered that
Fourth Classman Bligh's hair was too long, his clothes not brushed, his
shoes not shined. Bligh grew nearly frantic, morning after morning, at
hearing such a report read out as:
"Bligh, Wearing torn trousers at morning inspection.
"Same, Soiled collar at same.
"Same, Not properly shaved at same."
Bligh, much as he was to be blamed, really was to be pitied. No
midshipman was ever more friendless, ever more in need of kindly
direction. Under some circumstances he might have developed a useful
character, a high standard of thought and action. But in his lonely life
there was nothing but black, bitter hopelessness. Bligh was in a state
of mind to yield to dark temptation if it presented itself. Had his
mental state been known some one might have taken him in hand and
befriended him and directed his thoughts to more wholesome subjects. But
Bligh made no advances to any one and in sad silence unknown and
unthought of, brooded tempestuously.
Beautiful May once more held dominion over man and nature at Annapolis.
For the midshipmen there were studies, to be sure, but the studies were
all reviews of previous lessons and therefore were easy. And then there
were drills, but these, this last month, were always in the presence of
hundreds of visitors and therefore of particular interest to the
midshipmen drilling. Cadet Lieutenant Drake, marching his company across
the parade ground, and giving in stentorian tones such orders as:
"Squads right, full step, march," "Company shoulder arms, double time
march!" felt particularly important in so doing, and thought all eyes
were on him; and little Fourth Classman Mumma, handling a rifle instead
of a sword, and obeying instead of giving orders, knew in his own mind
that the people were really looking at him, so he was filled with pride
and martial ardor; and so with all of the rest of them.
And after drills were over the Academy grounds were thronged with
midshipmen and their friends, and the happiness ushered in at Annapolis
by every May seemed to enter all hearts.
Robert Drake now frequently called at the Blunt household and always
found a warm greeting there. Harry Blunt gladdened his mother's heart by
getting on the first conduct grade, and so at times was to be seen in
his father's house on authorized liberty. Robert never spoke to him, and
though Helen wondered why he should so cling to animosity against her
brother, and thought him unreasonable, yet she contrived it that Robert
and Harry were never at the same time together in the house.
"Bob," remarked Stonewell the next Sunday morning, just after the
commandant had finished room inspection, "this is a glorious day; what
do you say to a ramble? Let's go across the river and strike into the
woods; I know a trail through there, where the woods are wonderfully
thick; it will be beautiful to-day."
"Do you mean the path that leads by two old chestnut trees, trees of
enormous size and now almost dead?" inquired Robert.
"Yes, that's the place; those trees must be hundreds of years old. Then
wild flowers and ferns will be out, all so fresh and lovely this time of
year. Don't you just long for the woods when the spring-time comes?"
"Indeed I do, Stone," cried Robert, "and this will be a fine day for a
stroll."
Soon the bugles rang out their call for brigade formation and hundreds
of midshipmen rushed out on the terrace. Here the companies were rapidly
formed and then Cadet Commander Stonewell came to an about face, saluted
and reported:
"Sir, the brigade is formed."
Upon this the commandant, accompanied by a staff of officers and cadet
officers, passed in front of the long line, scanning each midshipman
closely, and corrected those who were careless in dress. The ranks were
then closed and the brigade was marched to the chapel.
After service was concluded the midshipmen were dismissed and Robert and
Stonewell went back to their rooms together.
In their absence mail had been distributed, and on the table in their
room lay two letters, one for Robert, the other for his roommate.
Robert's letter was from his father, and was full of cheering home news,
and it was eagerly read by the young man.
"By George, Stone, father enjoys his work with the Light House Board
ever so much. He says----Why, Stone, old chap, what is the matter?"
Stonewell was standing at the open window, looking blankly across the
waters of the Chesapeake Bay. In his left hand, crushed, was the letter
he had just received. His face was drawn, and in it Robert recognized an
expression he had seen but once before. Intense apprehension and worry,
perhaps fear, shone from Stonewell's eyes. Apparently he was oblivious
to his roommate's question, for he took no notice of it.
"What's the matter, Stone?" again cried Robert, rising from his chair,
and going to his roommate.
"Oh, Bob, excuse me for not answering your question--I was--I was
thinking of something else."
"But have you had bad news? You surely have, Stone. Can't you talk it
over with me? Just think how much good you did me when I had bad news."
Stonewell gave Robert a look of great affection and said: "Thank you,
old friend, there is no one on earth I would talk with so quickly as I
would with you. And it may be that I will want to talk something over
with you later, but just at present, Bob, there is nothing I could
say--you must excuse me." And with that Stonewell picked up his hat and
strode from the room.
Robert was full of surprise and worry. It was plainly evident that
Stonewell was under deep emotion, and just like him, he could not or
would not speak of the matter that so affected him.
"I wish he would talk it over with me," thought Robert; "it always makes
a fellow feel better if he tells his worries to a true friend. What a
lot of times old Stone has helped me in my troubles--and some of them
were big ones, too! When we take our walk this afternoon I'll try to get
him to tell me."
Robert now went out in the grounds, thinking he might meet his roommate,
but he did not, and as they sat at different mess tables he had no
chance to talk with Stonewell until after dinner.
As soon as they were dismissed after dinner Robert found his roommate,
and said:
"Come along, Stone, let's start out right away; it's a beautiful day and
we'll have a glorious ramble."
"Bob, I can't go; I find I have some letters I must write; get somebody
else to go with you, old fellow--I wish I could go, but I really can't."
Robert looked blankly at Stonewell. His anticipations of a pleasant walk
suddenly vanished and the day seemed dreary. He knew his roommate too
well to try to expostulate or argue with him.
"I'm awfully sorry, Bob," continued Stonewell, laying an affectionate
arm on Robert's shoulder, and with real concern noticing Robert's
evident disappointment. "I do wish I could go with you, but I really
can't."
"I think I'll write some letters too," remarked Robert in a dull,
forlorn sort of way.
"Oh, don't waste this beautiful afternoon that way!" said Stonewell;
"why don't you get Helen to take a walk with you; she's probably
thinking you may call to-day."
"I'm going to write some letters," reiterated Robert stolidly.
"Why, Bob, that's ridiculous; go out and enjoy the day," urged
Stonewell; "it will be awfully tiresome remaining indoors all
afternoon."
But Robert was as immovable as he knew Stonewell to be; the latter
seemed more anxious for Robert to go out than the circumstances called
for.
In a few minutes both were in their room, writing, and both ill at ease.
As a matter of fact neither wanted to write letters.
"Stone, I want you to tell me what has been bothering you," Robert
finally blurted out. "You have helped me any number of times and I have
never done a thing for you."
"You are constantly helping me, every day," replied Stonewell; "you can
have no idea of how your opinion and regard for me have kept me braced
up. I know that my course here at Annapolis is considered a successful
one; I know, Bob, you think I am superior to you. Now I know I'm not;
you have qualities of steadfastness, of decision of character that I can
never hope for. I have a certain faculty of quickly solving problems
that has given me my class rank, but, Bob, I know you have qualities
that will outlast mine; and it is your attitude of mind toward me that
has kept me striving, and to you is largely due the success I have won
here. So never again say you have not helped me. You have been my
constant inspiration. Now, Bob, you think there is something on my mind.
If there is, it does not concern myself, and I assure you I want to
forget it; and I cannot talk about it even with you. But I promise you I
will come immediately to you if the slightest thing should arise in
which you could help me. So oblige me, Bob, by dismissing this matter
from your mind."
Robert listened like one astonished. That he could have been of such
help to his roommate he had never imagined and the thought of it made
him very happy.
"Bob," continued Stonewell with his rare smile, "I'm sure Helen Blunt
will be surprised if you don't drop around to see her this fine
afternoon, and as that scamp of a brother of hers is on the first
conduct grade it won't hurt if you see him at her home."
"All right, Stone," rejoined Robert, cheerily. "I see you want to be
alone and I won't bother you any more; but I'm sorry you're going to
miss that stroll across the river. I'm much obliged, old chap, if you
think I ever helped you; I never knew I had, and I'm very happy at the
thought. I think I'll see if I can find Helen and persuade her to take a
walk."
CHAPTER XVI
BLIGH MAKES A FRIEND
"Well, Robert Drake, I'm glad to see you; I was hoping you might come
over this afternoon," exclaimed Helen Blunt as Robert appeared on the
porch of her home; "suppose we go out for a walk. I want to do an errand
for mother in Conduit Street; and then suppose we walk over the bridge
and go through Eastport; there are some gorgeous woods beyond there.
Come along."
"That's just what I wanted to do," replied Robert as they started off.
"But did you really expect me to-day? To tell you the truth, Stonewell
and I first intended to spend the afternoon in the woods across the
river, but he found he had to write some letters, so he decided not to
go out to-day."
"So I come next after Stonewell, do I, Robert?" queried Helen.
"I'll tell you where you stand--as one of the best friends a fellow ever
had," replied Robert earnestly. "It is not a question of standing next
to Stonewell; he's just like a big brother to me; do you know, Helen, he
is one of the most remarkable characters alive; why, if he had studied
law I believe he would some day be President of the United States. He
excels in everything, and besides all that he is just the best fellow
imaginable."
"He is indeed a splendid, a most superior man, Robert, but I believe Mr.
Stonewell isn't really as ambitious as you are, that he is more
influenced by your extravagant opinion of him than he is by the abstract
desire to excel as a naval officer. You see it is so easy for him to
excel if he only half tries. But, Robert, as much as I admire him, I do
not feel that I really know him. And come now, after rooming with him
for four years, do you feel you know his intimate thoughts? Are you
really certain that you know Mr. Stonewell just as he knows you?"
"Indeed I do," Robert stoutly maintained. "I know all about him. I know
he's one of the finest fellows that ever lived."
"And you know all about him, do you?"
"Of course I do."
"And he couldn't go walking with you to-day because he had some letters
to write?"
"That was the reason; but, Helen, it seems to me you are asking some
very odd questions."
"I know I am, but while we've been walking down here, you have been
looking this way. Suppose you look around in the other direction and
tell me who you see walking at such a rapid rate--I don't mean on Main
Street, but down Conduit Street, where we will turn in a minute."
Robert did so, and to his intense surprise saw Stonewell. The latter
evidently had not seen Helen or her companion. He was swinging down
Conduit Street with rapid strides, perhaps a hundred yards ahead of
them. Robert was so amazed that he could say nothing. It was now evident
to him that Stonewell had received news of some nature that caused him
to break his engagement to go walking, news that brought him in this
great hurry on Conduit Street, a part of Annapolis not much frequented
by midshipmen; and news that he certainly did not care to discuss with
his most intimate friend.
"Now what do you think of that, Mr. Robert?" cried Helen triumphantly.
"He broke his engagement to write some letters, and as soon as you leave
he rushes out to Conduit Street. There, he's gone into that big yellow
house. Now, do you think you know as much about Mr. Stonewell as he does
about you?"
Robert was silent. He too thought it was queer. He was too loyal in his
friendship to Stonewell to tell Helen of the misgivings he had felt
since he had seen his roommate so affected by that morning letter. And
Stonewell's action now was decidedly mystifying. Robert instinctively
knew his roommate was in deep trouble and he longed to know of the
burden upon him and to share it with him.
"Do forgive me, Robert," said Helen a little later, noticing how sober
he had become. "I'm awfully sorry I called your attention to Mr.
Stonewell; I know how devoted you are to your friends. Let's try and
forget about it and be happy. We'll go into the woods and gather some
violets and dogwood--the woods are so pretty now--full of moss and
ferns--let's walk fast."
Robert was cheered up a bit, and when they had finished their errand on
Conduit Street they hastened to the woods. Leaving their troubles behind
them, these young people were soon in a happy, merry mood. The woods
were soon deep about them, and they drank deep breaths from the
forest-perfumed air. Robert told Helen the great secret of his gun drill
and the means he had taken to win the flag.
"And, Helen, if my company wins it I am going to ask you to present it;
if we win it that will be my privilege."
Helen was enthusiastic, of course, for the greatest glory a girl ever
wins at Annapolis is to be chosen to present the colors to the winning
company.
"You'll win it, I'm sure you will," she cried; and then, woman-like, she
immediately became deeply pensive.
"Why so quiet?" queried Robert.
"Oh, I was thinking about what kind of a dress I shall wear, and I must
have a new hat too,--I'm sure you'll win, Robert, just as sure as though
it had really happened."
Mr. Henry Bligh continued to lead, in a crowded community of
light-hearted young men, a solitary life. He commenced to experience a
certain kind of cruel pleasure in being the martyr he considered himself
to be. Calm though he outwardly was his mind was in a continual ferment,
with a direct result that he was never in a humor to study; naturally he
did poorly in his daily recitations and worse in examinations. The time
for the annual examinations was now near and Bligh knew he had but
little hope of passing. Only by heroic effort could he hope to make a
satisfactory mark for his final average and thus become a third
classman. Bligh was in no mental state to make this required heroic
effort. In fact it was practically certain that he would fail and be
required to resign.
One Saturday in the middle of May, Bligh went out in the city of
Annapolis and walked around in an aimless way. He wandered in the State
House grounds and finally sat down on an iron bench near the statue of
Chief Justice Taney.
After a few minutes he observed a young man approach on the walk that
led by his bench. Bligh gave him a careless glance, and as the young
man passed he happened to look at him again. And then a startling change
came over Mr. Henry Bligh. His eyes seemed to bulge from their sockets;
involuntarily he half arose from his seat; his breath came in quick
gasps; he gave every evidence of complete amazement. Then he suddenly
sank back, relaxed and gave himself over to uncontrolled merriment.
"Oh, what a joke," he cried; "oh, my, oh, my!--who would believe it?"
It had been long since Bligh had laughed so heartily. And it was strange
indeed, because there was nothing particularly remarkable in the
appearance of the young man who had so affected Bligh. He was dressed in
a well made gray suit and wore a straw hat. His features were undeniably
handsome. He had a broad forehead, and under heavy eyebrows there
gleamed a pair of thoughtful gray eyes; he was tall and powerfully
built, and walked with a swinging gait. Before the civilian had gone
far, Bligh arose, in a hesitating way, and half-heartedly followed him.
The stranger walked around State House Circle into Main Street, and
turned down that street; Bligh followed. Soon he apparently gathered
courage and drew nearer to the man ahead. The latter went into a drug
store, stopped at the fountain and seemingly ordered a summer drink.
Bligh had a good look at him through the open door, pausing there for a
moment; then he went inside and stood by the counter and ordered an
orange phosphate.
[Illustration: _HE HALF AROSE FROM HIS SEAT_]
"It's a good cooling drink for warm weather," he observed to the young
man on his right, looking squarely at him.
"Indeed it is," replied that person, looking at Bligh with friendly
interest; "but try a lime phosphate some time; the West Indian lime is
very cooling."
"I will," replied Bligh heartily. "You're a stranger here, aren't you?"
"Yes, and I see you are a midshipman. I've heard lots about the Naval
Academy; it's a fine place, isn't it? I imagine midshipmen live a most
interesting life."
"Some do, I suppose; I know others who don't. Some fellows here make a
false start, slip up on something, you know, and get in a bad light, and
after that they have no chance; everybody gets down on them." Bligh
spoke bitterly.
"That's pretty hard luck," observed the stranger; "my sympathy always
goes to a fellow in that fix. Even if he does slip up once there may be
lots of good left in him, and a man should not be utterly condemned for
one mistake. That isn't fair at all. If I had to choose a friend between
two men, one of whom had been careless in some act and acknowledged it,
and the other was of the I-am-better-than-thou-class, I'd take the first
fellow for a friend every time. But my thoughts can hardly interest
you,--I don't suppose they apply to you at all," and the speaker turned
a thoughtful, penetrating glance upon Bligh.
Tears suddenly gushed from Bligh's eyes, and in a broken voice he said:
"See here, you are the first man that has spoken to me in a friendly way
for months."
Bligh showed genuine emotion and feeling when he spoke. He was totally
friendless, and he suddenly felt great pity for himself.
"Why, my dear fellow," exclaimed his newly-made acquaintance, "you will
pardon me for my inadvertent remarks--but suppose we take a walk; come
over to my rooms, and if you feel like it talk things over with me--I
don't know you, but I want to know you. I don't believe I see anything
bad in your face, though I imagine there is sadness there."
These kind words were to Bligh like heaven-sent manna. Until this moment
he had no conception of how he yearned for just one single friend, one
person who believed there was good in him, one to whom he could open his
heart and pour out its griefs. Instantly this newly-made friendship
became precious, and he felt brighter and happier than he had for
months. Sincerity and kindness were written in the features of this new
friend.
Bligh spent several hours with him in his rooms, and acquainted him with
the tr
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