After that the semi-annual examinations came on. Dave pa.s.sed better than he had hoped, making two-nine as his standing.

Dalzell was forced to be content with two-seven, but as two-five was a high enough mark for pa.s.sing Dan was delighted. Farley and Page got through safely, and that was all.

Fifty-nine of the men of the fourth cla.s.s were dropped for failing to keep up to the two-five standard.

And one of these was Midshipman Brimmer. He and the other unlucky ones left for their homes as soon as the results had been announced.

Brimmer would have pa.s.sed, in all probability, had he not been unstrung by the knowledge that four of his comrades were working to secure the evidence which should warrant his expulsion from the Naval Academy. Oppressed by dread, this young scoundrel was not capable of doing his best work at the semi-annuals.

So Brimmer left as Henkel had done. The only difference was that Brimmer did not have to slink away to the tune of "The Rogue's March."

"You're past the worst of it, now, mister," murmured Youngster Trotter, in pa.s.sing Dave. "You'll win through hereafter."

But Dave Darrin could hardly help feeling that his greatest thankfulness was over the fact that the poisonous pair, Henkel and Brimmer, were both out of the Navy for good and all.

CHAPTER XIX

The Collision on the Chesapeake

The weeks slipped by quickly now.

Athletics cannot occupy as prominent a place at Annapolis as at the universities and colleges, for the midshipmen must, above all, be sure that they stand high enough in their academic work.

Dave and Dan were both invited out for baseball try-out, but both asked to be excused.

Dan, by himself, would have gone in for the Navy nine, and doubtless would have made it.

It was Darrin, the cautious, who dissuaded Dalzell.

"Better shy away from athletics, Danny boy, until you've made your academic footing secure," was Dave's advice.

"You didn't talk that way in the High School," argued Dan.

"No; there the athletics were more necessary, if we were to keep in condition. Here athletics may be regarded as the luxury, which we are not yet ent.i.tled. Here, with the gym work, the fencing, the drills under arms and the boat drills, we're kept in the pink of physical condition without need for special training."

"Next year, when we feel absolutely solid in our marks, we can go in for athletics, if we wish, Dan."

So Dalzell gave in. He was beginning to realize that his chum had a "long" head and that his advice was always good.

With the coming of spring the boat drills were resumed in earnest.

Dave, standing well in "grease," now, became captain of one of the boat crews, for he had developed unusual skill in boat handling.

One bright afternoon in the latter part of April, while half of the brigade marched off to instruction on sh.o.r.e, the other half marched down to the docks beyond the seamanship building.

Here the members of the third cla.s.s embarked in the steam launches each craft representing a war vessel--for fleet drill.

The fourth cla.s.s men embarked, by crews, in the sailboats.

As each captain gave the order to shove clear of the dock the mainsail was hoisted. Then each crew captain kept one eye on the watch for the signals of the instructor, who was aboard a boat designated as the flagship.

The sail was downstream. Beyond Annapolis some pretty manoeuvering work was done. While this drill was proceeding, however, the wind died out considerably. Then, light as the breeze was, the youthful crew captains were forced to beat back against almost a head wind.

There being no signs of squalls or puffs, the crew captains did not seem to need to exercise much caution. The members of the crews stood indolently at their stations.

Yet Dave was as alert as ever. He stood close to the midshipman tillerman, looking constantly for signals from the flagship, and at the same time watchful for any wind signs.

An hour or more they had proceeded thus. Some of Dave's boat crew, who had been making a lark of their nearly becalmed condition now began to demur over the prospect of getting back late for supper.

"The steam-launch fleet might show up and give us a tow," grumbled Farley.

Dave smiled and said nothing. He was as eager as any midshipman in the boat to have his supper on time, but he felt that the crew captain must appear above any sign of complaint untoward fate.

For a moment or so Darrin turned to look aft at the weather.

"Motor boat 'John Duncan' on the port bow, two points off and bearing this way, sir," reported the bow watch.

Darrin turned quickly, bending to glance under the boom, for the mainsail was in his way.

What he saw made him dart quickly forward, to take up his stand by the mast.

"Pa.s.s me the megaphone, Mr. Dalzell," he requested.

With this mouth-piece in hand, Dave watched the nearing craft.

The "Duncan" was a semi-speed boat, some forty-five feet over all, without cabin, and carrying only a sprayhood forward to protect its engine.

Two men appeared in the boat--Mr Salisbury, the owner, and his engineer. The latter was steering at this time.

Chug-chug-chug! came the fast craft.

Dave waited, well knowing that his hail could not carry to either engineer or owner over the noise that the "Duncan's" engine was making.

Farley stood close to Dave watching. The tillerman also had his eye on the approaching craft. The other midshipmen, telling stories or staring out over the water, paid little heed. There could be no danger from the motor boat. Both the owner and engineer were well known, in these waters, as capable boat handlers and as men of judgment.

Darrin, himself, did not believe that there was any danger.

"Throw her head a point and a half off to the starboard," called Dave Darrin evenly.

"Aye, aye, sir," responded the midshipman tillerman, and the sailboat responded slowly under the slight headway.

"Great Scott, don't those fellows know that a sailboat has the right of way over a power craft?" demanded Darrin suddenly.

"Perhaps they're going to see how close they can come to us without hitting us," remarked Farley.

Dave raised the megaphone to his lips, waiting until he judged that there was a chance of his hail being heard.