Dave Darrin's First Year at Annapolis.

by H. Irving Hanc.o.c.k.

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 pa.s.s 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 pa.s.sed, and haven't got that to go up against again."

"We pa.s.sed the home medical examiner, too," retorted Dave. "In fact, you might say that we pa.s.sed 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 pa.s.sed 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 f.a.g 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 pa.s.sing 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.

Pa.s.sing 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 d.i.c.k & Co., six famous chums back in the lively little city of Gridley.

d.i.c.k Prescott, Greg Holmes, Dave Darrin, Dan Dalzell, Tom Reade and Harry Hazleton had composed the famous s.e.xtette 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. d.i.c.k 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 d.i.c.k and Greg at the fine old Army Academy on the Hudson. At the time this present narrative opens d.i.c.k and Greg had been nearly three months as plebe cadets, as told in the first volume of the West Point Series, under the t.i.tle, "d.i.c.k 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 d.i.c.k 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 pa.s.sed 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.