Chapter 24. Conclusion

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_ CHAPTER XXIV. CONCLUSION

Blank dismay fell over the whole of the fight party.

Three first class men, two second class men and three members of the fourth class stood on the brink of almost instant dismissal.

It was bitter for all of them, but it seemed especially hard to the first class men, who had survived the four years of hard grilling and were on the eve of graduation.

However, there was no thought of running. Though it was too dark for the discipline officer to have recognized any of them at the distance from which he had hailed them, yet, in a flight, it would be easy enough for Lieutenant Hall, who was an athlete, to catch one or two of them and then the names of all present could be obtained.

It was an instant of utter terror.

Then another voice broke in on the stillness.

"All hands to the fire apparatus! Fire in Bancroft Hall!"

The fight party felt another thrill. If the big Academy building was in danger they must rush to do their share.

The officer's running footsteps were already heard. He had turned and was speeding away.

"Get on your clothes, quickly, you two fellows!" ordered Midshipman Bailey crisply "We've got to turn in with the rest for fast work!"

Just then another figure darted up to them. It turned out to be Midshipman Farley.

"Yes; get on your clothes with some classy speed," chuckled Farley. "Lieutenant Hall will be back here with a bunch of watchmen, the marine guard, or any other old crowd, when he finds that he has been lured on the reefs by false signals!

"Mister, did you give that call of fire?" demanded Midshipman Bailey sternly.

"Yes, sir."

"And there's no fire?"

"None that I know of, sir."

"Mister, what's your name?"

"Farley, sir."

"Then, Farley, sir, come and get hugged."

In truth a lot of fuss was made over that young midshipman within a few seconds.

"It can't do much harm to use you something like a human being and a comrade, anyway," declared Time-keeper Clafflin, as he wrung both of Farley's hands. "Within a few days you'll be a youngster now."

Farley explained that an itching interest in the fight had tempted him to be close at hand, and this had given him his chance to save the fight party.

Darrin and Henley were dressing like lightning, and the others would not flee until the principals were ready to take part in the flight.

"Henley," broke in Midshipman Bailey decisively, "you can't risk your graduation again by resuming this fight at some other time. As far as the mill had gone Mr. Darrin had the best of it. I award the fight to him."

"I'm glad you do, Bailey," replied Henley heartily. "And, as soon as I'm dressed, and my cap is set on square, I'm going to apologize and ask Mr. Darrin to shake hands with me."

"Will you do me a favor, sir?" inquired Dave.

"A dozen," agreed Henley instantly.

"Then, sir, cut the apology and confine it to the hand-shake."

In another moment they were ready for hasty departure. But Dave had to wait for a quick, hearty handclasp from each of the upper class men. Then all divided into three groups, by classes, and thirty seconds later found these midshipmen too far from the scene to be identified with any fight party.

"It was a remarkably good and cheeky piece of work, sir," Lieutenant Hall reported, twenty minutes later, to Commander Jephson, commandant of midshipmen. "I had a fight party right under my hands when that call of fire sounded. It was so natural that I bolted away and lost my party before I discovered that it was a hoax."

"Did you recognize any of the fight party, Mr. Hall?

"No, sir; I was not close enough, and the night is dark."

"Did you recognize the voice of the man who gave the fire-call?"

"No, sir; at any rate, I believe that the voice was disguised."

"The young men have discovered a new one, and have tried it on you, Mr. Hall."

"I realize that, sir," replied the lieutenant, in a voice of chagrin.

It was now the time of annual examinations, of daily dress parade and the incoming of the first of the hosts of visitors who would be on hand during graduation week.

Of the annual examinations the poor fourth class men thought they had more than their share. Of the dress parades they had their full share. In the graduating exercises they took no part; they were not even present.

"What does a mere fourth class man know about the Navy, anyway?" was the way Midshipman Trotter asked the question.

Twenty-two of the fourth class men stumbled in their annual examinations. These went home promptly. They would not return again, unless their Congressmen reappointed them for another try. In case that happened to any of the young men they would return to take up life with the new fourth class, and would henceforth be known as "bilgers."

A man who has been dropped is a "bilger," whether he comes back or not. A "bilger" is further described as "one who used to be in the game, and is now only on the outside looking in."

Dave Darrin's standing for the year was two-eighty-seven. Dan's was two-eighty-two. Farley and Page came close to that figure.

None of these young men were in the "savvy" section, but all had passed with sufficient credit for the first year.

While the graduating exercises were going on the fourth class men were divided between drills on land and on water.

Dave and Dan were in a squad that marched up from the steam building just in time to catch a distant glimpse of the crowds surging out from the graduating exercises.

Both young men, and probably a lot of others in the same squad throbbed with a swift flash of thought.

As soon as the ranks were broken Dalzell seized his chum's hand, and began wringing it strenuously.

"David, little giant," murmured Dan ecstatically, "we are no longer fourth class men. From the instant that the tail-ender of the old first class received his diploma we became transformed into third class men."

"Yes," smiled Dave. "We're youngsters. That's going some."

"Poor fourth class men!" sighed Dan. "I'm alluding to those who will have to look up to and reverence me as a youngster!"

As soon as the chums had made a shift from their working clothes to the uniform of the day, and had stepped outside, they saw Mr. Henley coming their way, looking wholly proud and happy.

Then, of a sudden, Mr. Henley bent a keen look upon the new youngsters.

Just in the nick of time Dave Darrin recalled one of the regulations to which he had hitherto paid little heed for lack of use.

Graduate midshipmen are entitled to be saluted by mere midshipmen as though they were already officer.

Swiftly Darrin brought his heels together with a click, bringing his hand smartly up to the visor of his uniform cap.

Henley gravely returned the salute with a new sense of existence.

Dan Dalzell caught the drift of the thing just in time, and saluted also.

"May we congratulate you, Mr. Henley?" asked Dave.

"I was hoping that you both would," replied the graduate. "And, one of these days, I may have the pleasure of congratulating you, as an officer, when you first come up over the side to start in with your real sea life."

"I'm thinking, now, of our first taste of sea life," murmured Darrin, a dreamy light coming into his eyes.

"Yes; just as soon as we graduates are gotten out of the way you new youngsters will join the two upper classes on the big battleships and start on your first summer practice cruise."

"I feel as if I couldn't wait," muttered Dan, as Henley moved away.

"You'll have to, however," laughed Dave. "Don't be impatient. Think what a very small insect on shipboard a youngster midshipman is!"

The chums were through with their first year at Annapolis. But, all in a moment, they had entered the next year. Many things befell them on that summer practice cruise, and many more things in the new academic year that followed. But these will be appropriately reserved for the next volume, which will be entitled: "_Dave Darrin's Second Year at Annapolis; Or, Two Midshipmen as Naval Academy 'Youngsters.'_"

Having left the fourth class behind Dave and Dan at last entered fully into the life of the midshipmen. They "counted" now; they were "somebodies," and a host of new and exciting experiences were ahead of them.

[THE END]
H. Irving Hancock's Novel: Dave Darrin's First Year at Annapolis

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