An Annapolis First Classman

"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.

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."