Dave Darrin's First Year at Annapolis
by
H. Irving Hancock

Part 1 out of 4



ANNAPOLIS***


E-text prepared by Jim Ludwig



DAVE DARRIN'S FIRST YEAR AT ANNAPOLIS

Two Plebe Midshipmen at the United States Naval Academy

by

H. IRVING HANCOCK







CONTENTS

CHAPTERS
I. Two Admirals in the Bud
II. The First Day at the Naval Academy
III. A Taste of Hazing
IV. The "Youngsters" Who Became "Spoons On"
V. Invited to Join the "Frenchers"
VI. Dave Passes the Lie
VII. On the Field of the Code
VIII. The Man Who Won
IX. Dan Just Can't Help Being "Touge"
X. "Just For Exercise!"
XI. Midshipman Henkel Does Some Thinking
XII. A Chronic Pap Frapper
XIII. Midshipman Farley's About-Face
XIV. The Trap in Midshipman's Quarters
XV. Air "The Rogue's March"
XVI. Brimmer Makes a New Friend
XVII. Tony Baits the Hook
XVIII. In the Days of "Old Two-Five"
XIX. The Collision of the Chesapeake
XX. In the Line of Duty
XXI. Official and Other Report
XXII. The "Bazoo" makes Trouble
XXIII. The Spectre at the Fight Party
XXIV. Conclusion




CHAPTER I

TWO ADMIRAL'S IN THE BUD


"Dave, I'm getting nervous!"

"Is that the best way you can find to enjoy yourself?" demanded
the taller boy.

"But I am, Dave--dreadfully nervous!" insisted Dan Dalzell positively.

"Well, you'll have to conceal it, then. The doctors at the United
States Naval Academy won't pass any nervous wrecks," laughed Dave
Darrin.

"Don't you understand?" demanded Dan, in a hurt voice. "The nearer
we get to Annapolis the more nervous I'm getting."

"You'd better drop off, then," hinted Dave ironically, "and take
the next car back to Odenton and Baltimore. What earthly good
would a Naval officer be who was going to get nervous as soon
as he came in sight of an enemy?"

"But I wouldn't get nervous in the sight the enemy," flared up
Dan Dalzell.

"Then why get nervous about the folks down at the Naval Academy?
They all intend to be your friends!"

"I guess that is true," Dan went on. "Of course, back in April,
we went before the Civil Service Commission and took our academic
examinations. We passed, and haven't got that to go up against
again."

"We passed the home medical examiner, too," retorted Dave. "In
fact, you might say that we passed the sawbones with honors.

"But that medical chap put in a long time listening at my chest,"
complained Dan Dalzell, who was undeniably fidgeting in his seat.
"Then, too, the civil service sawbones told me that, while he
passed me, as far as he was concerned, I'd have to stand the ordeal
again before the Naval surgeons at Annapolis."

"Well, he did just the same thing with me," rejoined Darrin.
"You just keep your eye on me, Dan! Do you see me shaking? Do
you hear my voice falter? See me burning any blue lights?

"Perhaps, Dave, you don't take the whole business as much to heart
as I do," continued Dan Dalzell almost tremulously. "Why, Great
Scott, if they drop me at the Naval Academy, I'll be the bluest
fellow you ever saw! But maybe you won't care, Dave, whether
you are dropped or not."

"Won't I?" grumbled Darrin. "The Navy is the only thing in life
that I care about!"

"Then aren't you nervous, just now?" demanded Dan.

"If I am, I'm not making a show of myself," retorted Darrin.

"But are you nervous?" begged Dan.

"No!" roared Dave, and then he allowed a grin to creep over his face.

"Oh, go ahead and say so tonight," jeered Dan. "Tomorrow, if
you have the good luck to get sworn in, you'll have to quit fibbing
and begin practicing at telling the truth. A midshipman at the
Naval Academy, I understand, is kicked out of the service if he
tells lies."

"Not quite--only in case he gets caught," laughed Dave Darrin.

"But really, about being nervous--"

"Oh, forget that sort of nonsense, won't you, Dan, old fellow?"
begged his chum. "Just get your eye on the lovely country we're
going through."

It was just about the first of June. Our two young travelers
had come by train, from Baltimore to a little country junction.
Thence they had traveled, briefly, by trolley, to Odenton. There,
after a wait of some minutes, they had boarded another trolley
car, and were now bowling along through the open country of that
part of Maryland. At the end of their journey lay the historic
little town of Annapolis. It was now after seven o'clock; still
daylight, the fag end of a beautiful June day in Maryland.

Dave Darrin and Dan Dalzell had been appointed as midshipmen at
the United States Naval Academy. If they should succeed in passing
the four years' course in the big government school at Annapolis,
they would then be sent to sea for two years, as midshipmen, after
which they would return to Annapolis for their final examinations.
Passing these last examinations, they would then be commissioned
as ensigns in the United States Navy, with the possibility of
some day becoming full-fledged admirals.

Readers of our High School Boys Series have no need of further
introduction to Dave and Dan.

These two young men will be remembered as former members of Dick
& Co., six famous chums back in the lively little city of Gridley.

Dick Prescott, Greg Holmes, Dave Darrin, Dan Dalzell, Tom Reade
and Harry Hazleton had composed the famous sextette who, in their
day at Gridley High School, had been fast chums and leaders in
all pertaining to High School athletics in their part of the state.

Following their High School days, however, the six chums had become
somewhat widely scattered. Dick Prescott and Greg Holmes secured
appointments to the United States Military Academy. Readers of
our West Point Series are already familiar with the stirring doings
and life of Dick and Greg at the fine old Army Academy on the
Hudson. At the time this present narrative opens Dick and Greg
had been nearly three months as plebe cadets, as told in the first
volume of the West Point Series, under the title, "DICK PRESCOTT'S
FIRST YEAR AT WEST POINT."

Tom Reade and Harry Hazleton had gone from Gridley High School
to the far West, where they had connected themselves with a firm
of civil engineers engaged in railway construction. What befell
Tom and Harry is told in "THE YOUNG ENGINEERS IN COLORADO," the
first and very entertaining volume in the Young Engineers Series.

Readers of "THE HIGH SCHOOL CAPTAIN OF THE TEAM" recall how Dave
Darrin won his appointment to the Naval Academy, as did Dick Prescott
his chance for West Point, from the Congressman of the home district.
Dalzell's appointment, on the other hand, came from one of the
two United States Senators from that state.

And here Dave and Dan were, on a trolley car from Odenton, rapidly
nearing Annapolis.

At the forward end of the car was a small compartment set apart
for the use of smokers Dave and Dan did not smoke; they had take
seats in this compartment because they wished to be alone.

"You asked me to let you know when we got near Annapolis, gentlemen,"
announced the conductor, a cheery-faced young man, thrusting his
head in. "There is the town right ahead of you."

"You said that you go by the hotel, I think?" Dave asked.

"I'll stop and call the hotel," replied the conductor. "We'll
be there in less than two minutes."

It was a quaint, old-fashioned, very pretty southern town that
the car now entered.

"I'll bet they're a thousand years behind the times here," sighed
Dalzell, as they gazed about them.

"Not at the Naval Academy, anyway," retorted Dave Darrin.

"Oh, of course not," Dan made haste to agree.

The car passed an imposing-looking brick building that housed
the post-office, then sped along past the handsome, dignified
old residence of the Governor of Maryland. Up on a hill at their
left the State Capitol stood out. Then the car bell clanged,
and the car stopped.

"Maryland Hotel!" called the conductor.

Dave and Dan caught up their suit cases and descended from the
car. At their right, the found the steps leading to the porch
of the roomy old hotel. In another moment they were in the office,
registering.

"You want a room together, gentlemen?" asked the clerk.

"Surely," retorted Dan. "My friend is always afraid when the
gas is turned off. My presence quiets him."

"Pardon me, gentlemen, but are you on your way to the Naval Academy?"
queried the clerk.

"Yes," nodded Dave quietly.

"Then you will want a room with bath, of course. You'll have
to strip before the medical examiners tomorrow.

"A room with bath, of course," assented Dan. "I never have stopped
at a hotel without a bathroom."

Dan didn't mention that this was the first time he had ever stopped
at a hotel in his short life.

"Front!" called the clerk.

A small black boy in knee trousers came forward, picked up their
suit cases and led the way to the next floor.

"My! I wonder who else is expected," muttered Dalzell, as the
two young travelers found themselves in their room after the boy
had left them.

It was an enormous room, and the three beds in it did not crowd
the apartment in the least. All the furniture was of a massive
and old-fashioned pattern.

A few minutes later, with face and hands washed--clean collars,
clothes neatly brushed, the two clear-eyed, manly-looking young
fellows returned to the first floor.

"I suppose this hotel is full of young men like ourselves, wondering
what tomorrow will bring them, when they get before the sawbones,"
muttered Dan.

"Candidates, like ourselves, you mean?" suggested Darrin. "We'll
inquire." With that, he approached the clerk and made the inquiry.

"Oh, no," replied the clerk, in answer to Dave's question. "There
are only two other candidates besides yourselves stopping here.
There are a good many young men in town, of course, but most
of them have been here for some weeks, and are in lodging houses.
A good many young men come here, you know, to attend the Naval
preparatory schools before they go up for their examinations."

"We've had our academic examinations, and have passed," announced
Dan.

"What about supper, sir?" asked Dave, who, in his short trip through
the South, had noticed that in this part of the country the "sir"
is generally employed.

"You'll find supper ready, gentlemen," replied the clerk, pointing
the way to the dining room.

So the two young men passed in and enjoyed their first sample of
southern cookery.

At this hour there were only a half dozen other people in the
dining room--none of them interesting, Darrin decided, after
hastily surveying the other diners.

The meal over, the two young candidates sauntered again out into
the hotel office.

"Any midshipmen out around the town, sir?" Darrin asked.

"Hardly, sir," replied the clerk, with a smile. "At this hour
the young gentlemen are in their rooms at Bancroft Hall."

"What does a midshipman look like?" ventured Dalzell.

"Like a human being, of course," Dave laughed.

"You mean the uniform?" inquired the clerk. "A midshipman, sir,
wears a dark blue uniform, like an officer's, and a visored cap,
Naval pattern. He also wears the anchor insignia on each side
of his coat collar."

Dave and Dan soon walked over to the open doorway and stood looking
out upon the street, in which, at this time, few people were passing.
Hearing a step in the office, Dan quickly turned. He saw
a young man coming through the office, holding himself very erect.
This young man was in dark blue uniform, with visored cap, and
on each side of his collar was the anchor insignia. Past the
anchor were two bars, but Dalzell didn't notice that at the moment.

"There's a real midshipman," whispered Dan, plucking at Dave's
sleeve. "I'm going to speak to him."

"Don't you do it," warned Dave, in an undertone. "You may make
a mistake."

"Mistake?" echoed Dan. "With that anchor on his collar?"

Hastily Dan Dalzell slipped back into the office, going up to
the young man in uniform, who had stopped before the desk.

"Good evening," began Dan politely. "I'd like to introduce myself.
'Tomorrow I expect to be one of the crowd. You're a midshipman,
aren't you?"

"I'm an officer of the Navy," replied the uniformed stranger coldly,
as he half turned to glance briefly at Dalzell. "You are a candidate,
I suppose? Then I fancy you will report at the superintendent's
office in the morning."

With that the Naval officer turned away, leaving poor Dalzell
feeling decidedly dumfounded.

"Wasn't that a midshipman?" gasped Dan, in a whisper.

"That gentleman is a lieutenant in the Navy," replied the clerk,
with a slight smile.

Crestfallen Dan hurried back to Darrin, brushing off his sleeves
with his hands as he walked.

"Served you right; you must get over being fresh," Dave Darrin
rebuked his chum. "But what is the matter with your sleeves?"

"I'm brushing the frost off of them," murmured Dan dejectedly.
"Did you notice the ice-bath that fellow threw over me?"

"Come out for a walk," urged Dave. "But be careful where you
step and what you say to others."

The two young men strolled down the street.

"Well," smiled Darrin, "I must say, Dan, that you appear to be
getting all over your nervousness."

"No; I'm still nervous," protested Dan. "Before, I was afraid
I wouldn't get into the Naval Academy. Now, I'm only afraid that
I shall."

"What nonsense are you talking now?" demanded Darrin, giving his
chum a sharp look.

"Why, if they're all going to be as chesty as that near-officer I
spoke to in the hotel," blinked Dan, "I'm not so sure that I want to
go in with the bunch."

"That officer wasn't either chesty or snobbish," rejoined Darrin.

"Then you will kindly explain what he tried to do to me?"

"That's easy enough. That Naval officer recognized in you a rather
common type--the too-chummy and rather fresh American boy. Down
here in the service, where different grades in rank exist, it is
necessary to keep the fresh greenhorn in his place."

"Oh!" muttered Dan, blinking hard.

"As to your not wanting to go into the service," Dave continued,
"if you should fail, tomorrow, in your physical examination, you
would be as blue as indigo, and have the blue-light signal up
all the way back home."

"I don't know but that is so. Yes; I guess it is," Dalzell assented.

"Now, there are at least ninety-nine chances in a hundred that
you're going to pass the Navy doctors all right, Dan," his chum
went on. "If you do, you'll be sworn into the Naval service as
a midshipman. Then you'll have to keep in mind that you're not
an admiral, but only a midshipman--on probation, at that, as
our instructions from the Navy Department inform us. Now, as
a new midshipman, you're only the smallest, greenest little boy
in the whole service. Just remember that, and drop all your jolly,
all your freshness and all your patronizing ways. Just listen
and learn, Dan, and study, all the time, how to avoid being fresh.
If you don't do this, I'm mighty confident that you're up against
a hard and tough time, and that you'll have most of the other
midshipmen down on you from the start."

"Any more 'roast' for me?" asked Dalzell plaintively.

"No; for, if you need any more, you'll get it from other midshipmen,
who don't know you as well as I do, and who won't make any allowances
for your greenness and freshness."

"My!" murmured Dan enthusiastically. "Won't I quiver with glee
the first time I see you being called for twelve-inch freshness!"

Yet, despite their wordy encounters, the two remained, as always,
the best and most loyal of friends.

For an hour and a half the two youngsters roamed about Annapolis,
taking many interested looks at quaint old buildings that had
stood since long before the Revolutionary War.

At last they turned back to the hotel, for, as Dalzell suggested,
they needed a long night's sleep as a good preparation for going
before the Naval surgeons on the next day.

Five minutes after they had turned out the gas Dave Darrin was
soundly, blissfully asleep.

In another bed in the same room Dan Dalzell tossed for fully
half an hour ere sleep caught his eyelids and pinned them down.
In his slumber, however, Dan dreamed that he was confronting
the superintendent of the Naval Academy and a group of officers,
to whom he was expounding the fact that he was right and they
were wrong. What the argument was about Dan didn't see clearly,
in his dream, but he had the satisfaction of making the
superintendent and most of the Naval officers with him feel like a
lot of justly-rebuked landsmen.




CHAPTER II

THE FIRST DAY AT THE NAVAL ACADEMY


A few minutes before nine o'clock, the next morning, Dave and
Dan were strolling through Lover's Lane, not far from the
administration building at the United States Naval Academy.

Their instructions bade them report at 9.15. Dan was for going
in at once and "calling on" the aide to the superintendent. But
this Dave vetoed, holding that the best thing for them to do was
to stick to the very letter of their orders.

So, as they waited, the young men got a glimpse of the imposing piles
of buildings that compose the newer Naval Academy. Especially did
handsome, big, white Bancroft Hall enchain their admiration. This
structure is one of the noblest in the country. In it are the
midshipmen's mess, the midshipmen's barracks for a thousand young
men, numerous offices and a huge recreation hall.

"That's a swell hotel where they're going to put us up for four
years, isn't it?" demanded Dan.

"I fancy that we'll find it something more--or less--than a
hotel, before we're through it," was Dave's prophetic reply.

As, at this time in the morning, all of the enrolled midshipmen
were away at one form or another of drill or instruction, the
central grounds were so empty of human life that the onlooker
could form no idea of the immense, throbbing activity that was
going on here among the hundreds of midshipmen on duty.

"Here's some of our kind," spoke Dan, at last, as he espied more
than a dozen young men, in citizen's dress, strolling along under
the trees.

"I guess they're candidates, fast enough," nodded Darrin, after
briefly looking at the approaching group.

"Cheap-looking lot, most of them, aren't they?" asked Dalzell
cheerfully.

"Probably they're saying the same thing about us," chuckled Dave
dryly.

"Let 'em, then. Who cares?" muttered Dalzell.

"Dan, my boy, I reckon you'll need to put the soft pedal on your
critical tendencies," warned Dave. "And, if you want my friendly
opinion, I've a big idea that you're going to talk your way into
a lot of trouble here."

"Trouble?" grinned Dalzell. "Well, I'm used to it."

In truth Dan had been victor in many a hard-fought schoolboy
disagreement, as readers of the High School Boys Series are aware.

As the young men in question drew nearer they eyed Darrin and
Dalzell with a disapproval that was not wholly concealed. The
truth was that Dave and Dan were recognized as not being boys
who had studied at one of the Naval prep. schools in Annapolis.
The assumption was, therefore, that Dave and Dan had not been
able to afford such a luxury.

"Good morning, gentlemen," was Dave's pleasant greeting. "You
are candidates, like ourselves, I take it?"

This fact being acknowledged, Dave introduced himself and his
friend, and soon some pleasant new acquaintances were being formed,
for Darrin had a way that always made him popular with strangers.

"Have you two got to go up before the June exams. here?" asked
one of the young men, who had introduced himself as Grigsby.

"Part of it," grinned Dan. "We've already gone through the primer
tests and the catechism, and that sort of thing; but we still
have to go before the barber and the toilet specialists and see
whether our personal appearance suits."

"You're lucky, then," replied Grigsby. "Our crowd all have to
take the academic exams."

"Cheer up," begged Dan. "Any baby can go past the academic exams.
Arithmetic is the hardest part. One funny chap on the Civil
Service Commission nearly got me by asking me how much two and
two are, but Darrin saved me, just in the nick of time, by holding
up five fingers; so I knew the answer right off."

Some of the candidates were already surveying Dan with a good
deal of amusement. They had heard much of the severe way upper
classmen at the Naval Academy have of taking all the freshness
out of a new man, and, like Dave, these other candidates scented
plenty of trouble ahead for cheerful, grinning Dan Dalzell.

"Gentlemen," broke in Dave quietly, "do you see the time on the
clock over on the academic building? It's nine-fourteen. What
do you say if we step promptly over to the administration building
and plunge into what's ahead of us?"

"Good enough," nodded one of the new acquaintances. "Suppose
you lead the way?"

So, with Dan by his side, Dave piloted the others over to the
administration building, just beyond the chapel.

As they stepped inside, and found themselves in a hallway, a marine
orderly confronted them.

"Candidates, gentlemen? Walk right upstairs. An orderly there will
direct you to the office of the superintendent's aide."

"Thank you," replied Dave, with a bow, and led the way upstairs.

Near the head of the stairs another marine, in spick-and-span
uniform, wearing white gloves and with a bayonet at his belt,
called out quietly:

"Candidates? First two, step this way please."

He swung open a door. Dave and Dan stepped into an office where
they found a young-looking though slightly bald gentleman in uniform,
seated behind a flat-top desk.

"We have come to report, sir, according to our instructions,"
announced Dave Darrin, happily.

"You are candidates, then?" asked Lieutenant-Commander Graham,
reaching for a pile of bound sheets.

"Yes, sir."

"Names?

"David Darrin and Daniel Dalzell, sir."

"Have you your papers, Mr. Darrin?"

"Yes, sir."

Dave drew an official-looking envelope from an inner pocket and
handed it to Lieutenant-Commander Graham.

These the Naval aide scanned closely, after which he looked up.

"You have your papers, Mr. Dalzell?"

"Yes," nodded Dan.

A more than perceptible frown flashed across the face of the officer.

"Mr. Dalzell, whenever you answer an officer you will say 'yes,
sir,' or 'very good, sir.'"

Rather red in the face Dan handed over his envelope.

Mr. Graham examined these papers, too. Then, pulling a pile of
blanks before him, he filled out two, bearing the names of the
young men, and signed them, after which he handed one of the signed
blanks to each.

"Mr. Darrin, you will inquire of the orderly downstairs your way
to the office of the commandant of midshipmen. You will then
at once present yourself before the commandant, handing him this
paper."

"Yes, sir; thank you, sir," replied Dave, with a slight bow.

"Mr. Dalzell, stick close to your friend and you will find out
what to do."

"Yes, sir," murmured Dan, again reddening.

The orderly below directed the two young men how to proceed to the
main entrance of Bancroft Hall, there to turn to their left and
inquire again their way to the commandant's office.

"You see," lectured Dave pleasantly, as the chums plodded along
one of the walks, "you have already received your first lesson.
You answered the superintendent's aide without saying 'sir.' You'll
have to work out of this freshness."

"That wasn't freshness; it was ignorance," protested Dalzell.
"Don't you worry, Dave; I shall soon get the Naval trotting gait
to such an extent that I shall be saying 'sir' at every other word."

This declaration was more prophetic than Dalzell could guess at
that moment.

Each lad had a queer feeling at heart as he began to climb the
long series of white steps that lead to the main entrance to Bancroft
Hall. What would be the outcome? Were they hence-forth to find
this huge pile "home" for four years to come? Would they, through
all after life, look back upon this great government training
school as their alma mater? It all seemed to depend, now, on
the verdict of the examining Naval surgeons!

But there was little time for thought. Once inside, they were
ushered, by a white-gloved midshipman, into the office of Commander
Jephson, commandant of midshipmen.

That gentleman, also in uniform, as were all Navy officers on
duty at the Academy, looked briefly as the two young men stood
before him.

"Candidates, gentlemen?"

"Yes, sir," replied Dave.

"Your orders?"

Each young man handed over the slip given him by the aide. Commander
Jephson scanned each sheet closely, then made some entries on
a set of papers of his own.

Next the commandant touched a button on his desk. Almost immediately
footsteps were heard outside. Another white-gloved midshipman
entered, raising his hand smartly to his cap in salute. This
salute the commandant acknowledged in kind.

"Mr. Salisbury, conduct Candidates Darrin and Dalzell outside.
Ascertain how soon the surgeons will be ready to examine them,
and conduct the candidates to the Board Room at the time assigned
for their examination."

"Very good, sir," replied Midshipman Salisbury, in measured tones.
Again the inter-change of salutes, after which Midshipman Salisbury
led Dave and Dan to an outer office.

"Wait here," directed the midshipman briefly, "I'll let you know when
it's time to go to the Board Room."

Five minutes later the midshipman again approached them.

By this time there were seven more candidates in the room. The
aide to the superintendent and the commandant were passing the
young men quickly through the mill.

"Mr. Darrin, Mr. Dalzell!" called the midshipman master of ceremonies.
As Dave and Dan started to their feet their conductor added:

"Follow me to the Board Room."

Down the corridor and into the Board Room the two chums were led.
There, awaiting them, they found three Naval medical officers,
all in their proper uniform and one of them seated at a desk.

"Strip, with the least delay possible," ordered the senior surgeon.

In a very short space of time Dave and Dan stood forth, minus
clothes and, it must be confessed, both very nervous as to what
these medical men might or might not find.

Thorough, indeed, was the examination, which began with the heart.
But it went much further, including the hair, scalp, eyes, teeth,
the condition of the tonsils, the appearance of the tongue, and
so on, by regular stages, down to the soles of their feet.

"If there's a square quarter of an inch these fellows have missed,
I didn't notice it," muttered Dan to himself.

"You may dress, Mr. Darrin," announced the senior surgeon, and
Dave went to the chair on which his clothing lay.

"Mr. Dalzell, come here a moment"

Dan began to feel queer. What had they missed? On what point
was his physical condition doubtful?

"Open your mouth," directed one of the surgeons.

Then followed some more exploration of his teeth.

"Oh," murmured Dan, when the medical men gave him a rest for a
moment. "It's only my teeth, eh? That's not a vitally important
point, is it, sir?"

"We reject candidates for what might seem very slight defects
of the teeth," replied the senior surgeon, with emphasis. "Open
your mouth again."

The cold ooze stood out on Dan's brow this time. Joke as he might,
he did not want to be dropped out of the Navy. Were these medical
officers going to find, in his mouth, the clue his disqualification?

"Hm!" said the senior surgeon, watching while another medical
officer did the probing and the holding of the dental mirrors.

That "hm!" sent a cold chill of dread coursing down young Daniel's
spine.

"Your teeth just about pass," remarked the senior officer. "You
may dress, Mr. Dalzell."

It was not long before Dave and Dan both had their clothing on.
As Dan was finishing, Dave turned to the senior surgeon.

"Is it improper, sir, for me to ask whether we have passed?" asked
Darrin quietly.

"You have both passed," nodded the surgeon. "Mr. Dalzell, however,
will do well to take the most wholesome care of his teeth hereafter."

Just then the door opened and two more candidates were shown in.

"Come with me," directed the same midshipman master of ceremonies.

Dan was indiscreet enough to range up alongside their conductor,
just missing a vigorous nudge that Dave tried to give him.

"Well, we slipped by the drug-store sign all right," Dan confided
to the white-gloved midshipman. "Now, how soon do we get our
messenger-boy uniforms?

"Never, I hope," replied their conductor frigidly, "unless you
can learn to speak of the uniform of the service with more respect."

Dan fell back abashed. His style of humor, he was fast discovering,
did not seem to make a hit at Annapolis.

Back in the same waiting room the two young men lingered until
nearly eleven o'clock. More than two score of candidates had
passed the medical examiners by this time, and some others had
failed to pass. Yet many of these successful candidates had yet
to take their scholastic examinations over in Academic Hall, and
so did not wait with Dave and Dan, who had now passed in everything.

By eleven there were fully a dozen young men who, like Dave and
Dan, were ready to be sworn in. These were now led to the commandant's
office. Here each signed a paper agreeing to serve in the United
States Navy for a term of eight years, unless sooner legally discharged.
Each also signed a statement to the effect that he took this step
with the full permission of parents or guardian.

Then the commandant of cadets ordered them to form in a line facing
his desk. A notary appeared, who administered to them the oath
of loyalty and obedience. These young men were at last actual
members of the brigade of midshipmen.

Commander Jephson now delivered a short address to the lined-up
dozen. He pointed out where the lines of their duty lay, and
exhorted them to seek their duty and to perform it at all times.
In closing the commandant put emphasis on these words:

"One word more, young gentlemen. Until this moment perhaps all
of you have been wont to look upon yourself as boys. That time
has passed. From the moment that you were sworn into the Navy
of the United State--remember--you became men. All of your
superior officers will now look to you to realize most fully that
you are men--men in word, deed, thought and judgment."

Now another midshipman, a cadet petty officer, appeared and conducted
the new members of the brigade outside.

"Fall in by twos," he directed. "When I give the word, move forward
as well as you can, in the idea of marching."

It was, indeed, a busy hour that followed. The young men were
led before the midshipmen's pay officer, with whom each deposited
the sum of two hundred and sixty-four dollars and ninety-eight
cents. This amount from each new midshipman is required by law.
Of this sum sixty dollars is applied to the purchase of books
needed by the new midshipman. The balance of the sum goes to
pay for uniforms, articles of equipment, etc. From this it would
seem that an absolutely poor boy had no chance to enter the Naval
Academy. It usually happens, however, that, when a very poor
boy is appointed to the Naval Academy, his Congressman, or some
of his friends or fellow townsmen will loan him the money, returnable
after he enters the service as an officer.

In addition to the amount required by law to be deposited with
the Academy authorities each midshipman is ordered to turn over
any other money that may be in his possession, this extra amount
to be credited to him. A midshipman, on entering the service,
receives a salary of six hundred dollars a year. Nearly all of
this, however, is required to pay his ordinary expenses. Each
midshipman is allowed a very small amount of spending money, with,
however, a more liberal allowance when visiting ports during a
cruise.

It is forbidden for a midshipman to receive spending money from
home or friends. Midshipmen sometimes disobey this latter regulation,
but, if detected, are liable to severe punishment.

Afterwards the new midshipmen were taken to the storekeeper's, where
each was supplied with one of the uniform caps worn by midshipmen.

Thence the young men were marched back to Bancroft Hall and out
onto the terrace over the mess hall.

"Halt! Break ranks!" commanded their instructor, Midshipman Cranthorpe.
"You will now pay close heed and endeavor to learn rapidly. Mr.
Darrin, step over here."

Dave went forward, Midshipman Cranthorpe placing him.

"The others will form in line of platoon front, using Mr. Darrin
as their guide," directed the young instructor.

Then followed some rapid-fire drilling in dressing, facings, counting
fours, marching and halting. The material in hand was excellent,
or Midshipman Cranthorpe might have been in despair.

Presently their instructor gave the order to break ranks, showing
the new men where to stand, up against the building, out of the
way. Almost immediately a bugler sounded a call. Then the new
men were treated to a sight that made their blood dance.

Out of Bancroft Hall hastily poured scores and scores of midshipmen,
until nearly six hundred had assembled. These were the members
of the three upper classes.

The brigade of midshipmen is divided into two battalions, each
of two divisions, six companies. The first and fourth companies
formed on the right of the first battalion, the seventh and tenth
companies on the right of the second battalion. The divisions
formed with intervals of two paces between companies preparatory
to muster. Second call was sounded quickly on the bugle, immediately
after which the first petty officer of each company began briskly
to call the roll. Each man answered just loudly enough to be
heard. While roll-call was going on company commanders stepped
briskly along inspecting their companies.

As the muster of each company was completed the first petty officer
commanded, "count off!"

"One, two, three, four! One, two, three four!" went the count
along each company line. Then the first petty officer of each
company wheeled about, saluted his company commander, and reported:

"Sir, all present or accounted for!"

Company commanders next corrected the alignment on the right center
company of each line.

Battalion commanders, seeing the divisions of their respective
battalions aligned, faced about, while the battalion adjutants
took post to right and rear. The brigade adjutant then faced
about, saluted the brigade commander, reporting: "Sir, the brigade
is formed."

Receiving the word from his superior, the brigade adjutant next
read the orders, after which he was ordered to take his post.

While this was going on Midshipman Cranthorpe had formed his awkward
squad to the rear, behind the first battalion.

Now orders rang out crisply for battalion commanders to take charge.
Thereupon each battalion commander marched his command in column
of squads into the mess hall; battalion commanders preceding their
battalions, company commanders preceding their companies and the
junior officers of each company following the company. Last of
all came Midshipman Cranthorpe's awkward squad.

And very awkward, indeed, these young men felt. Each had a burning
conviction that he was being watched curiously by hundreds of
pairs of eyes. The new men might as well have saved themselves
their worry. Barely an upper class man in the hall was paying
any heed whatever to these self-conscious plebes.

The meal, a mid-day dinner, was an excellent one. Few of the
new men, however, had any notion of what it consisted.

Mess hall was left with almost the same amount of formality.
In the short recreation period that followed the new men, painfully
conscious that their caps were the only part of the uniform they
wore, were hurried away by Midshipman Cranthorpe.

Now they were quickly assigned to the rooms that they would occupy
during their first year at the Naval Academy.

The midshipmen are not roomed by classes. Instead, each is assigned
to a company, and there are three companies to a division. Each
division occupies a floor in Bancroft Hall. It is not called
a "floor" but a "deck." Dave and Dan were assigned to the armory
wing of the lowest deck, on what was virtually the basement floor
of Bancroft Hall, or would have been, but for the mess hall underneath.

As far as wood work went it was a handsome room. When it came
to the matter of furniture it was plain enough. There was the
main or study room. Off at either side was an alcove bedroom.
There was also a closet in which stood a shower bath. The one
window of the room looked over across the Academy grounds in the
direction of Academic Hall.

A cadet petty officer from the first class briefly, crisply instructed
them concerning the care of their room, and their duties within
its walls.

What followed that afternoon put the heads of the new midshipmen
in a whirl. Afterwards they had a confused recollection of having
been marched to the tailor at the storekeeper's, where they were
measured for uniforms, all of which are made to order. They recalled
receiving a thin, blue volume entitled "Regulations of the U.S.
Naval Academy," a book which they were advised by a first clansman
instructor to "commit to memory."

"In former days, in the old-time academy, there were something
more than six hundred regulations," dryly remarked the cadet petty
officer in charge of them. "In the new up-to-date Naval Academy
there are now more than one thousand regulations. You are all
expected to appreciate this merciful decrease in the number of
things you are required to remember."

There were also two periods of drill, that afternoon, and what-not
more.

Supper came as a merciful release. When the meal was over, while
many of the upper class men remained outside in the warm June
air, the plebes were ordered to go to their rooms and start in
making themselves familiar with the thousand-and-more regulations.

"Thank goodness they give us some time for light reading," muttered
Dan Dalzell, as he stalked into his room, hung up his uniform
cap and sank into a chair. "Whew! What a day this has been!"

"I've rather enjoyed it," murmured Dave, as he sank into the chair
on the opposite side of the study table.

"Huh! You have liberal ideas, then, about enjoyment. How many
hundred rules are you going to commit to memory tonight?

"I don't know," returned Dave. "But I do know that my head is
in a big whirl, and that I'm going to rest it for a few minutes.
By the way, Dan, there's one thing I hope you remember."

"What is that?" demanded Dalzell.

"What did they tell us this lower deck was named?"

"Dunno," grunted Dan. "But I have my own name for it. _I_ call
it the pinochle deck."

"I'm afraid that won't do to repeat," laughed Dave.

At that moment the handle of the door was turned. Five upper
class midshipmen entered, closing the door behind them. Then
they stood there, glaring at the two poor plebes in "cit." clothes.




CHAPTER III

A TASTE OF HAZING


"Good evening, gentlemen," nodded Dave pleasantly, as he rose
and stood by the study table, waiting to hear the pleasure of
his visitors.

Dan Dalzell favored his callers with a nod, but remained seated,
both hands thrust deep in his pockets.

"Get up on your feet, mister!" ordered one of the midshipmen,
so sternly that Dan obeyed like a shot.

"Excuse me," he began hastily. "I didn't know you came here in
an official capacity. I thought--"

"Silence, mister!" commanded another of the visitors. Dan subsided.

"What's your name, mister?" demanded the last speaker, as he favored
Dave with his next glance.

"Why, my name is Dave Darrin," replied that plebe pleasantly.

"Say 'sir,' mister, when you address an upper class man. When
asked your name, reply, 'Darrin, sir.'"

"Darrin, sir," replied Dave promptly.

"Stand at attention, both of you!" commanded another visitor.

Both plebes obeyed. Now still another caller wheeled upon Dan.

"What's your name, mister."

"Dan Dalzell."

"Dalzell--Sir!" thundered Dan's questioner.

"Dalzell, sir," Dan responded meekly enough.

"It is plain enough that both of you plebes need a good deal of
practice in the use of the word, sir. Therefore, in your next
answers, you will be careful to employ 'sir' after each word that
you utter in your reply. Mister," to Dave, "what did you come to
the Naval Academy for?"

"To, sir, become, sir, a sir, Naval, sir, officer. Sir."

"Very good, mister. Mister," to Dalzell, "why did you come here?"

"For sir, the same pur--"

"Sir, sir, sir, sir!" interrupted the quizzer. "Now, try again,
mister."

"For, sir, the, sir, same, sir, purpose, sir."

"Now, mister," continued the quizzing visitor, transfixing Dalzell
with a look of tremendous sternness, "can you talk French?"

Dan's eyes twinkled briefly.

"I don't know, sir. I never tried, sir," replied Dalzell, in pretended
embarrassment.

For a moment it looked as though Dan had turned the tables of
mischief upon his tormentors. His reply was so absurd that all
of the upper class men, for a moment, betrayed signs of twitching
at the corners of their mouths. Then all of them conquered the
desire to laugh and returned to the inquest with added severity.
The late questioner turned to one of his classmates, remarking
scornfully:

"_Touge!_"

"Very touge, indeed" replied the one addressed.

A "touge" plebe, in Naval Academy parlance, is one who is wholly
"fresh."

"Mister," continued Dan's quizzer, "we find you too full of levity
for one who intends to embrace the profession of quarter-deck
lounger. In our belief it will be necessary for you to let some
new ideas soak into your head. Mister, get your wash basin and
fill it exactly half full of water. Remember, mister--neither
a drop nor less than exactly half full."

Dan's first impulse was to grin, his second to laugh. Yet something
in the tone and look of the last speaker made "touge" Dalzell
feel that the simplest way out of difficulty would be for him
to obey as carefully and speedily as he could. So, with a hurried
"very good, sir," Dalzell turned in quest of his basin. He brought
it, just about half full, for the inspection of his imperious
visitor.

"Place it there on the floor, beside the wall," ordered the tormentor

Dan obeyed.

"Now, mister, stand on your head in that water!"

Dan flushed hotly, for an instant. He even clenched his fists.
Then, with a sudden rush of good sense to the head, he bent over
to carry out the order that he had received.

It was not as easy a feat as might be supposed, even for a rather
well trained and hardened athlete like Dan Dalzell.

He got his head into the bowl all right, and rested his hands
on the floor on either side of the bowl. It was when he tried
to throw his feet up against the wall that he came to grief.
His feet slid along the wall and came down to the floor again.

Dan fell out of the bowl with a good deal of splash.

"If, at first, you don't succeed, mister," began Midshipman Trotter,
who had constituted himself chief of the tormentors, "try, try
some more."

"I'll make it, sir," responded Dan cheerily, and his very manner,
now, inclined his tormentors to go a little more lightly with him.

At the third trial, with his eyes closed, just below the level of
the water, Dalzell succeeded in standing very solidly on his head.

The upper class men, who were all third class men, or "youngsters"
as they are unofficially termed, watched the performance with
interest.

"Rather well done, for a beginner," commented Midshipman Trotter.
"As you were, mister."

Dan, unfortunately, tried to be a bit "smart." He made a half
somersault forward, trying to spring up on his feet. He fell
back, however, and sat down squarely in what was left of the water.

"Never mind a little wet, mister," advised Midshipman Trotter,
with a very serious face. "We always rate a man as highly awkward,
however, if he breaks the washbowl."

"Which one of you is the better athlete?" suddenly asked Midshipman
Harris.

Neither chum intended to be caught, by this crowd, as wanting
in modesty.

"He is, sir," replied Dan, with great promptness, nodding toward
Darrin.

"Dalzell is, sir," contended Dave.

"In view of this conflicting testimony, we shall have to settle
the question by actual test," replied Mr. Trotter. "Mister,"
to Dan, "bale out your boat."

From the nod which accompanied this command Dalzell understood
that he was to empty the water from his wash basin so he promptly
obeyed.

"Mister," to Darrin, "launch your boat on this water here."

Plainly the "water" signified the floor. Dave brought out his
own wash basin with alacrity. Under further orders the chums
placed their bowls about four feet apart.

"Here," announced Midshipman Trotter, taking two toothpicks from
a pocket, "are a pair of oars."

Dave Darrin received the toothpicks with a grin.

"And here are your oars, mister," supplemented Mr. Trotter, handing
another pair of toothpicks to Dan Dalzell.

At this instant a faint knock was heard at the door, which opened
immediately after.

"Got a pair of beasts at work, fellows?" asked a voice. "Here
are some more young admirals who need a little help."

Four new midshipmen, in the custody of three youngsters, now stepped
into the room and the door was closed.

"Bender's in charge of the floor tonight, you know," nodded one
of the newly-arrived youngsters, "and Bender's duty-crazy. Besides,
he belongs to the second class, and hardly admits that we're alive."

On each floor a midshipman is detailed to be in charge through
the evening. He is responsible for discipline on his floor, and
must report all breaches of the rules. A midshipman who wishes
to stand well with his comrades may, when in charge of the floor,
conveniently fail to see a good many minor breaches of discipline.
When the man in charge of the floor reports all breaches that
come to his notice he is said to be duty-crazy. He is also charged
with "trying to make his mark in grease." "Grease" is high standing
on the efficiency report. As a rule the man who stands well in
"grease" stands somewhat lower in general popularity.

Midshipman Bender, second class, was, at this time, regarded as
one of the worst "greasers" of all.

"What's on?" inquired Midshipman Hayes, one of the newcomers in
the room. "Tub race?"

"No, sir; fast spurt in single-pair shells," replied Midshipman
Trotter impressively.

"Whew! You've caught some real athletes, have you?"

"That's what we want to find out," responded Mr. Trotter. "Now,
then, misters, we warn you against approaching this noble sport
in any spirit of levity! You are not to think that this work
is for your own amusement, or for anyone else's. You must try
yourselves out fairly and squarely. Our purpose is to find out
which is the better oarsman, and also which rows with the more
finish. Take your seats in your craft."

Dave and Dan seated themselves, with all possible gravity, in their
respective wash basins.

"Up oars!" commanded Mr. Trotter.

As neither plebe knew just what was meant by this command they
had to be shown how to sit holding their "oars" straight up in
the air.

"Let fall!"

This time the two new men guessed fairly well. They went through
the motions of allowing their toothpick oars to fall into row-locks.

"Now, at the outset, take your strokes from my count," directed
Mr. Trotter. "One, two three, four, five, six, seven--"

And so on. It was all ludicrously absurd, to see Dave and Dan
bending to their tasks as seriously as though they were rowing
real craft with actual oars.

One of the visiting plebes was stupid enough to giggle.

"Go over and stand by the window in arrest, mister," ordered Midshipman
Hayes. "You shall be tried later!"

Then the "boat race" continued. It soon proved to be more than
absurd; it was decidedly fatiguing. Both Dave and Dan found that
their strained positions, and the motions required of them, made
backs and shoulders ache. Their legs, too, began to suffer from
cramp.

It was not until both showed signs of decided weariness that the
race was brought to an end.

Then the cadet who had giggled was called forward, ordered to
half fill one of the washbowls and to stand on his head in it.

While this was going on there was not a smile from anyone. From
the serious faces of all this might have been one of the most
important bits of drill in the whole course at the Academy.

Dave, however, made the best impression upon the youngsters.
All the other new men came sooner or later, to the ordeal of standing
on their heads in the wet bowl, but Dave seemed destined to escape.

The rowing was carried on until all of the youngsters had tired
of this sport.

"Fall in, in platoon front," directed Midshipman Trotter.

The six plebes, solemn as owls, stood up in line, "dressing" their
line carefully.

"Now, attend me carefully," cautioned Mr. Trotter, sweeping a
stern glance down the line of plebes. "I am about to tell you
a bit of the day's news from over in Sleepy Hollow, which place
is known to Maryland geographers as the village of Annapolis.
You must attend me with extreme care, for, after I have narrated
the news, I shall question you concerning it. Do you follow me,
misters?"

"Yes, sir," came in a chorus.

"You need not answer quite as loudly," warned Midshipman Trotter,
sending a backward look over his shoulder at the door. "Now,
then, the police over in Sleepy Hol--Annapolis--today learned
the details of a yellow tragedy. Some weeks ago three Chinamen
came to town and opened a clean--I mean, a new--laundry. During
the last week, however, the public noted that the door leading
from the office to the rear room was always closed. You follow
me?"

"Yes, sir," came in an almost whispered chorus.

"Finally," continued Mr. Trotter, "one customer, more curious
than the others, reported his observations to the police. Today
the Johnny Tinplates made a raid on the place. A most curious
state of affairs came to light. So--but is this tangled tale
clear to you all as far as I have gone?"

"Yes, sir," came the whispered chorus.

"What the police learned," went on Mr. Trotter, in a voice that
now sounded slightly awestruck, "was this: a week ago the three
Chinese partners had a serious row. They quarreled, then fought.
Two of the yellow partners killed the third! And now, a serious
problem confronted the two survivors of that misunderstanding.
What was to be done with the remains of the unsuccessful disputant?"

Midshipman Trotter looked at each of the wondering plebes in turn.
It looked as though he were asking the question of them.

"I don't know, sir," admitted Dan Dalzell, at the left of the line.

"I don't know, sir," admitted the man next to Dan. So it went
down the line, until Dave Darrin, at the further end, had admitted
himself to be as much in the dark as were the others.

"Then, listen," resumed Mr. Trotter impressively. "The Chinese,
being descended from a very ancient civilization, are not only
very ingenious but also very thrifty. They were burdened with
two hundred pounds of evidence on the premises. In their extremity
the two survivors cut up their late partner, cooked him, and disposed
of the flesh at meal times."

From the gravity of the narrator's expression he appeared to be
reciting a wholly true story.

"Now, then," rasped out Midshipman Trotter, "that being the state
of affairs at the laundry--_what was the telephone number_?"

Trotter's gaze was fixed on Dan Dalzell's face almost accusingly.

"How the--" began startled Dan gruffly. Then, instantly realizing
that he was making a mistake, he broke in hastily:

"Beg your pardon, sir, but I don't understand how to get at the
telephone number."

"You try, mister," ordered Midshipman Trotter, turning to the
plebe next to Dalzell.

"I can't solve the problem, sir."

So it ran, straight down the line, each confessing his ignorance,
until finally Mr. Trotter glared at Dave Darrin.

"Come, come, mister, from the very exact narrative that I have
given, can't you deduce the telephone number of that laundry?"

"Yes, sir; I think so," answered Darrin, with a slight smile.

"Ah! Then there's a man in the squad who is more than a mere
saphead. Let us have the telephone number, mister!

"Two-ate-one-John," replied Dave promptly.

This was the correct answer. Dave had heard that "gag" before.

"Mister," beamed Mr. Trotter, "I congratulate you. You are no
mollycoddle. Your head is not over-fat, but somewhat stocked
with ideas. As soon as you have soaked in a few more ideas you
will be fit to associate with the young gentlemen at this
sailor-factory. You may, therefore, take the washbowl, fill it
half full of ideas, and stand on your head in them until they have
soaked well in!"

Poor Dave, his face flushed crimson, could have dropped in his
humiliation at having thus fallen into the trap. But he started
manfully for the washbowl, which he half filled with water. Meanwhile
the other five plebes were choking. They could have screamed
in their glee--had they dared!

Placing the bowl where ordered, Dave bent down to his knees, immersing
the top of his head in the water.

With hands on opposite sides of the bowl he balanced his feet,
preparatory to hoisting them into place against the wall.

"Up oars!" commanded Mr. Hayes dryly.

From one of the visiting plebes came an incautious giggle. Mr.
Hayes turned and marked his man with a significant stare that
made the unfortunate giggler turn red and white in turn with alarm.

At the order, "up oars," Dave Darrin sent his feet aloft. By
rare good luck he succeeded the first time trying.

There he remained, his head in the bowl of water, his feet resting
against the wall.

Just at this moment, though, the sound of trouble was in the air,
even if it reached interested ears but faintly.

A step was heard in the corridor outside. There was a faint knock.

The upper class midshipmen knew on the instant what the knock
meant--and so indeed did Dave Darrin.




CHAPTER IV

THE "YOUNGSTERS" WHO BECAME "SPOONS ON"


It was a most critical moment in the life histories of several
young men who had grown to consider themselves as future officers
in the United States Navy!

Such a man as Midshipman Bender was certain to report any form
of hazing he detected.

Now, the usual punishment meted out to hazers at either Annapolis or
West Point is dismissal from the service!

True, this was not brutal hazing, but merely the light form of
the sport known as "running" the new man.

Nevertheless, "all hazing looks alike" to the public, when posted
by the newspapers, and the Naval Academy authorities deal severely
with even "running."

So, for all of the "youngsters," or third class men, who had been
conducting the evening's festivities, all the elements of trouble,
and perhaps of dismissal, were at hand.

But Dave Darrin had been the first to hear the soft approach of
footsteps, and somehow, he had guessed at the meaning of it all.

Just in the fraction of a second before the knock had sounded
at the door Dave had made a fine handspring that brought him from
his topsy-turvy attitude to a position of standing on his feet.
And, at the same time, he held the washbowl in his hand without
having spilled a drop of the water. Like a flash Dave few across
the room, depositing the bowl where it belonged. With a towel
he wiped his hair, then swiftly mopped his face dry. Hair brush
and comb in hand, he turned, saving:

"Why, I suppose, gentlemen, Dalzell and myself were very fair
athletes in the High School sense of the word. But it's a long
jump from that to aspiring to the Navy football team. Of course
we'll turn out for practice, if you wish, but--"

At this moment, Lieutenant Bender, the "duty-crazy" one, thrust
the door open.

Here Dave, on his way to the mirror, hairbrush and comb in hand,
halted as though for the first time aware of the accusing presence
of Bender, midshipman in charge of the floor for the day.

"Uh-hum!" choked Midshipman Bender more confused, even, than he
had expected the others to be.

"Looks like rather good material, doesn't he, Bender?" inquired
Mr. Trotter. "Green, of course, and yet--"

"I didn't come here to discuss Navy athletics," replied Midshipman
Bender.

"Oh, an official visit--is that it?" asked shipman Hayes, favoring
the official visitor with a baby-stare. "As it is past graduation,
and there are no evening study hours, there is no regulation against
visiting in the rooms of other members of the brigade."

"No," snapped Mr. Bender, "there is not."

Saying this the midshipman in charge turned on his heel and left
the room.

An instant after the door had closed the lately scared youngsters
expressed themselves by a broad grin, which deepened to a very
decided chuckle as Mr. Bender's footsteps died away.

"Mister," cried Midshipman Trotter, favoring Darrin with a glance
of frank friendliness, "do you know that you saved us from frapping
the pap hard?"

"And that perhaps you've saved us from bilging?" added Midshipman
Hayes.

"I'm such a greenhorn about the Navy, sir, that I am afraid I
don't follow you in the least, sir," Darrin replied quietly.

Then they explained to him that the "pap" is the conduct report,
and that "to frap" is to hit. To "frap the pap" means to "get
stuck on" the conduct report for a breach of discipline. A "bilger"
is one who is dropped from the service, or who is turned back
to the class below.

"I judged that there was some trouble coming sir," Dave confessed,
"and I did the best that I could. It was good luck on my part that
I was able to be of service to you."

"Good luck, eh?" retorted Midshipman Trotter. "Third class men,
fall in!"

As the "youngsters" lined up Mr. Trotter, standing at the right
of the line, asked coaxingly:

"Mister, will you be condescending enough to pass down the line
and shake hands with each of us?"

Flushing modestly, but grinning, Dave did as asked--or directed.

"Mister," continued Midshipman Trotter impressively, "we find
ourselves very close to being 'spoons on' you."

For a youngster to be "spoons on" a new fourth classman means
for the former to treat the latter very nearly as though he were
a human being.

"Now, you green dandelions may go," suggested Mr. Trotter, turning
to the four "visiting" plebes.

As soon as this had come about Trotter turned to Dave Darrin.

"Mister, we humble representatives of the third class are going
to show you the only sign of appreciation within our power. We
are going to invite you to stroll down the deck and visit us in
our steerage. Your roommate is invited to join us."

Dave and Dan promptly accepted, with becoming appreciation. All
of the youngsters escorted Dave and Dan down the corridor to
Midshipman Trotter's room.

In the course of the next hour the youngsters told these new midshipmen
much about the life at the Naval Academy that it would otherwise
have taken the two plebes long to have found out for themselves.

They were initiated into much of the slang language that the older
midshipmen use when conversing together. Many somewhat obscure
points in the regulations were made clear to them.

Lest the reader may wonder why new fourth class men should tamely
submit to hazing or "running," when the regulations of the Naval
Academy expressly prohibit these upper class sports, it may be
explained that the midshipmen of the brigade have their own internal
discipline.

A new man may very easily evade being hazed, if he insists upon it.

His first refusals will be met with challenges to fight. If he
continues to refuse to be "hazed" or "run," he will soon find
himself ostracized by all of the upper class men. Then his own
classmates will have to "cut" him, or they, too, will be "cut."
The man who is "cut" may usually as well resign from the Naval
Academy at once. His continued stay there will become impossible
when no other midshipman will recognize him except in discharge
of official duties.

The new man at Annapolis, if he has any sense at all, will quietly
and cheerfully submit to being "run." This fate falls upon every
new fourth class man, or nearly so. The only fourth class man
who escapes bring "run" is the one who is considered as being
beneath notice. Unhappy, indeed, is the plebe whom none of the
youngsters above him will consent to haze. And frequent it happens
that the most popular man in an upper class is one who, while
in the fourth class, was the most unmercifully hazed.

Often a new man at the Naval Academy arrives with a firm resolution
to resist all attempts at running or hazing. He considers himself
as good as any of the upper class men, and is going to insist on
uniformly good treatment from the upper class men.

If this be the new man's frame of mind he is set down as being
"ratey."

But often the new man arrives with a conviction that he will have
to submit to a certain amount of good-natured hazing by his class
elders. Yet this man, from having been spoiled more or less at
home, is "fresh." In this case he is called only "touge."

Hence it is a far more hopeful sign to be "touge" than to be "ratey."

The new man who honestly tries to be neither "touge" nor "ratey,"
and who has a sensible resolve to submit to tradition, is sometimes
termed "almost sea-going."

Dave Darrin was promptly recognized as being "almost sea-going."
He would need but little running.

Dan Dalzell, on the other hand, was soon listed as being "touge,"
though not "ratey."




CHAPTER V

INVITED TO JOIN THE "FRENCHERS"


Within the nest few days several things happened that were of
importance to the new fourth class men.

Other candidates arrived, passed the surgeons, and were sworn into
Naval service.

Many of the young men who had passed the surgeons, and who had
gone through the dreary, searching ordeals over in grim old Academic
Hall, had now become members of the new fourth class.

As organized, the new fourth class started off with two hundred
and twenty-four members--numerically a very respectable battalion.

At the outset, while supplied only with midshipmen's caps, and
while awaiting the "building" of their uniforms, these new midshipmen
were drilled by some of the members of the upper classes.

This state of affairs, however, lasted but very briefly. Graduation
being past, the members of the three upper classes were rather
promptly embarked on three of the most modern battleships of the
Navy and sent to sea for the summer practice cruise.

The night before embarkation Midshipman Trotter looked in briefly
upon Dave Darrin and his roommate.

"Well, mister," announced the youngster, with a paternal smile,
"somehow you'll have to get on through the rest of the summer
without us."

"It will be a time of slow learning for us, sir," responded Darrin,
rising.

"Your summer will henceforth be restful, if not exactly instructive,"
smiled Trotter. "In the absence of personal guidance, mister,
strive as far as you can to reach the goal of being sea going."

"I'll try, sir."

"You won't have such hard work as your roommate," went on Trotter,
favoring Dalzell with a sidelong look. "And, now, one parting
bit of advice, mister. Keep it at all times in mind that you
must keep away from demoralizing association with the forty per cent."

Statistics show that about forty per cent of the men who enter
the U.S. Naval Academy fail to get through, and are sent back
into civil life. Hence the joy of keeping with the winning "sixty."

The next morning the members of the three upper classes had embarked
aboard the three big battleships that lay at anchor in the Severn.
It was not until two days afterwards that the battleships sailed,
but the upper class men did not come ashore in the interval.

Soon after the delivery of uniforms to the new fourth class men
began and continued rapidly.

Dave and Dan, having been among the first to have their measure
taken, were among the earliest to receive their new Naval clothing.

A tremendously proud day it was for each new midshipman when he
first surveyed himself, in uniform, in the mirror!

The regular summer course was now on in earnest for the new men.

On Mondays those belonging to the first and second divisions marched
down to the seamanship building, there to get their first lessons
in seamanship. This began at eight o'clock, lasting until 9.30.
During the same period the men who belonged to the third and
fourth divisions received instruction in discipline and ordnance.
In the second period, from 10 to 11.30 the members of the first
and second division attended instruction in discipline and ordnance
while the members of the third and fourth divisions attended seamanship.

In the afternoon, from 3 to 4.45, the halves of the class alternated
between seamanship and marine engineering.

All instruction proceeded with a rapidity that made the heads
of most of these new midshipmen whirl! From 5 to 6 on the same
afternoon the entire fourth class attended instruction in the
art of swimming--and no midshipman hope to graduate unless he
is a fairly expert swimmer!

Wednesday and Saturday afternoons were devoted to athletics and
recreation.

A midshipman does not have his evenings for leisure. On the first
five evenings of each week, while one half of the class went to
the gymnasium, the other half indulged in singing drill in Recreation
Hall.

"What's the idea of making operatic stars out of us?" grumbled
Dan to his roommate on day.

"You always seem to get the wrong impression about everything,
Danny boy," retorted Darrin, turning to his roommate with a
quizzical smile. "The singing drill isn't given with a view to
fitting you to sing in opera."

"What, then?" insisted Dan.

"You are learning to sing, my dear boy, so that, later on, you will
be able to deliver your orders from a battleship's bridge in an
agreeable voice."

"If my voice on the bridge is anything like the voice I develop
in Recreation Hall," grimaced Dalzell, "it'll start a mutiny right
then and there."

"Then you don't expect sailors of the Navy to stand for the kind
of voice that is being developed in you in Recreation Hall?" laughed
Darrin.

"Sailors are only human," grumbled Dalzell.

The rowing work, in the big ten-oared cutters proved one of the most
interesting features of the busy summer life of the new men.

More than half of these fourth class midshipmen had been accustomed
to rowing boats at home. The work at Annapolis, however, they found
to be vastly different.

The cutter is a fearfully heavy boat. The long Naval oar is
surprisingly full of avoirdupois weight. True, a midshipman has to
handle but one oar, but it takes him many, many days to learn how to
do that properly.

Yet, as August came and wore along, the midshipmen found themselves
becoming decidedly skilful in the work of handling the heavy cutters,
and in handling boats under sail.

Competitive work and racing were encouraged by the Navy officers who
had charge of this instruction.

Each boat was under the direct command of a midshipman who served
as crew captain, with thirteen other midshipmen under him as crew.

When the post of crew captain fell to Dan Dalzell he embarked
his crew, gave the order to shove off and let fall oars, and got
away in good style.

Then, leaning indolently back Dan grinned luxuriously.

"This is the post I'm cut out for," he murmured, so that stroke-oar
heard him and grinned.

Yet, as "evil communications corrupt good manners," Dan's attitude
was reflected in his crew of classmates. The cutter was manned
badly at that moment.

"Mr. Dalzell!" rasped out the voice of Lieutenant Fenton, the
instructor, from a near-by boat.

Dan straightened up as though shot. But the Navy officer's voice
continued sternly:

"Sit up in a more seamanlike manner. Pay close attention to the
work of your boat crew. Be alert for the best performance of
duty in the boat that you command. For your inattention, and
worse, of a moment ago, Mr. Dalzell, you will put yourself on
the conduct report."

The next morning, at breakfast formation, Dan's name was read
from the "pap." He had been given five demerits. This was below
the gravity of his offense, but he had been let off lightly the
first time.

"You've got to stick to duty, and keep it always in mind," Darrin
admonished his chum. "I don't intend to turn preachy, Dan; but
you'll surely discover that the man who lets his indolence or
sense of fun get away with him is much better off out of the Naval
Academy."

"Pooh! A lot of the fellows have frapped the pap," retorted Dalzell.
"Demerits don't do any harm, unless you get enough of 'em to cause
you to be dropped."

"Well, if there is no higher consideration," argued Dave, "at
least you must remember that the number of demerits fixes your
conduct grade. If you want such liberties and privileges as are
allowed to new midshipmen, you'll have to keep your name away from
the pap."

"Humph! Setting your course toward the grease mark are you?"
jeered Dan.

"Think it over!" urged Dave Darrin patiently.

Before August was over the new fourth class men marched "like
veterans." They had mastered all the work of drill, marching and
parade, and felt that they could hold their own in the brigade when
the upper class men returned.

On the 28th of August the three big battleships were sighted coming
up the bay in squadron formation. A little more than an hour
later they rode at anchor.

It was not, however, until the 30th of August that the upper classmen
were disembarked.

August 31 was devoted to manifold duties, including the hurried
packing of light baggage, for now the members of the three upper
classes were to enjoy a month's leave of absence before the beginning
of the academic year on October 1.

Then, like a whirlwind mob, and clad in their "cit." clothes, the
upper class men got away on that hurried, frenzied leave.

There was no leave, however, for the new midshipmen.

In lieu of leave, through the month of September, the new fourth
class men spent the time, each week-day, from ten o'clock until
noon, at the "Dago Department," as the Department of Modern Languages
is termed.

Here they made their start in French.

"When Trotter comes back," muttered Dan, "if he asks me whether
I can talk French, I'll tell him that I've tried, and now I know
I can't."

It was the last night before the upper classmen were due back from
their leave.

Dave and Dan were in their room, poring hard over French, when
a light tap sounded on the door.

Right on top of the tap Midshipman Farley, fourth class, entered
on tiptoe, closing the door behind him.

This accomplished, Farley dropped his air of stealth, strolling
over to the study desk.

"There's a nice little place in town--you know, Purdy's," began
Farley significantly.

"I've heard of it as an eating place," responded Darrin.

"It's more than that," returned Farley, smacking his lips. "It's
an ideal place for a banquet."

"I accept your word for it," smiled Dave.

"I don't ask you to, Darrin," grinned Farley. "Like any honest
man I'm prepared to prove all I say. Purdy has received--by
underground telegraph--orders to prepare a swell feast for eight.
It's to be ready at eleven tonight. We had the eight all made
up, but two fellows have flunked cold. We're to French it over
the wall tonight, leaving here a few minutes after taps. Are you on?"

Farley's enthusiastic look fell upon the face of Dalzell.

"I'm on!" nodded Dan

"No; you're not" broke in Dave quietly.

"I'm afraid I must disagree with you, little David," murmured Dan.

"Oysters, clams, fish--watermelon!" tempted Midshipman Farley.

"Um-yum!" grunted Dan, his eyes rolling.

"Then you're with us, Dalzell?" insisted Farley.

"Well, rather--"

"--not!" interjected Dave Darrin with emphasis.

"Now, what are you butting in for, you greasy greaser?" demanded
Farley, giving Dave a contemptuous glance. "Maybe you won't join
us, and maybe we'd just as soon not have as greasy a midshipman
as you at the festive board, but Dalzell isn't tied to your apron
strings, are you, Dalzell?"

"No; he's not," replied Darrin, speaking for his chum. "Dalzell
will speak for himself, if he insists. But he and I have been
chums these many years, and we've often given each other good
advice in trying or tempting times. Dalzell will go with you,
if he cares to, for he already knows all that I have to say on
the subject."

"You've had your nose stuck down deep in the grease-pot ever since
you struck Annapolis!" cried Farley angrily. "I hope you bilge,
Darrin; with all my heart I hope you bilge soon. We don't need
a mollycoddle like you here in the Naval Academy!"

"Isn't that about all you want to say?" demanded Dave, looking
up with a frown.

"No; it's not half what I have to say," cried Farley hotly. "Darrin,
your kind of fellow is a disgrace to the Naval service! You're
a sneak--that's what--"

"You may stop, right there!" frowned Darrin, rising from his chair.

"I'll stop when I'm proper ready!" retorted Farley hotly.

"If you don't stop right now, you'll finish while engaged in landing
on your ear in the hall outside!" warned Dave, stepping forward.

There was a new look in Darrin's usually patient eyes. It was
a look Farley hadn't seen there before, and it warned the hot-headed
midshipman that he was in danger of going too far.

"Oh, fudge on you, Darrin!" jeered Farley, turning on his heel.
"Going to be with us, Dalzell?

"No," replied Dan promptly. "I never travel with the enemies of
my friends."

"Greasers, both of you!" flung back the caller, and left them.

"If that fellow had talked an hour longer I believe I might have
lost my patience," smiled Darrin, as he turned back to his desk.
"But I'm glad you're not with that outfit tonight Danny boy.
It may turn out a big scrape."

"Why should it turn out a big scrape." demanded Dan.

"Oh, you never can tell," replied Darrin, as he picked up his
book.

Farley did not succeed in getting two more midshipmen to join
in the Frenching. Twenty minutes after taps, however, the original
six of the fourth class slipped out of Bancroft Hall.

Slyly they made their way to where they had a board hidden near
the wall of the Academy grounds.

One at a time, and swiftly, they went up this board, and over
the wall.

At Purdy's they found a meal to tempt the most whimsical appetite.
The meal over they spent much time in singing and story-telling.

It was nearly two in the morning when Farley and his fellow feasters
tried to get back into the grounds, over the wall.

They got over the wall, all right, but only to fall into the hands
of one of the watchmen, who seemed to have known exactly where
to expect their return.

All six were reported to the officer in charge. At breakfast
formation Midshipmen Farley, Oates, Scully, Brimmer, Henkel and
Page were assigned fifty demerits each for unauthorized absence
during the night.

Farley and his friends were furious. More, they were talkative.

Had Dave Darrin been less occupied that day he would have noted
that many of his classmates avoided him.

Dan did notice, and wondered, without speaking of the matter.

That day all the upper class men returned, and Bancroft Hall hummed
for a while with the bustle of the returning hundreds.

Just before the dinner formation Youngster Trotter encountered
Dave in the corridor.

"Hullo, mister!" was Trotter's greeting, and the youngster actually
held out his hand.

"I hope you had a mighty pleasant leave, sir," replied Dave, returning
the handclasp.

"Passably pleasant, passably, mister," returned Midshipman Trotter.
"But see here, mister, what's this about you and your class that
I've heard?

"Nothing, so far as I know, sir," replied Dave, scanning the youngster's
face closely.

"It must be more than nothing," returned Trotter. "I understand
that more than half of your class are furious with you over something
that happened last night. I've heard you called a sneak, mister,
though I don't believe that for a single minute. But I've heard
mutterings to the effect that your class will send you to coventry
for excessive zeal in greasing, to the detriment of your classmates.
What about it all, mister?"

Dave Darrin gazed at the youngster with eyes full of wonder.

"What about it?" repeated Dave. "That's the very thing I'd like to
know, sir, for this is the very first word I've heard of it."

Nor could Midshipman Trotter doubt that Dave Darrin had answered
in all sincerity.

"Well, you certainly must be innocent, mister, if you're as puzzled
as all this," replied the youngster. "Then it must be that malicious
mischief is brewing against you in some quarter. Take my advice,
mister, and find out what it all means."

"Thank you. I most certainly will, sir," replied Dave, his eyes
flashing.




CHAPTER VI

DAVE PASSES THE LIE


Dalzell looked up wonderingly as Darrin marched swiftly into their
room.

"Danny boy, have you heard any talk against me today?" demanded
Dave.

"Do I look as though I had been fighting?" queried Dan promptly.

"I've just heard, from Trotter, that a good many of the fellows
in our class are scorching me, and talking of sending me to coventry.
Will you--"

"I sure will," broke in Dan, dropping his book, rising and snatching
at his cap. "I'll be back as soon as I've heard something, or have
settled with the fellow who says it."

Dan was out of the room like a flash.

Dave sat down heavily in his chair, his brow wrinkling as he tried
to imagine what it all meant.

"It must all be a mistake that Trotter has made," argued Dave
with himself. "Of course, Trotter might be stringing me, but
I don't believe he would do that. Now, to be sure, I came near
to having words with Farley last night, but that wouldn't be the


 


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