"Where is Stone?" asked Robert of Farnum; "do you know where he went? He said he had a job to do."

"I turned out when I heard that awful yell," replied Farnum, "and I saw Stone run down these stairs into the bas.e.m.e.nt. I wonder why he went down there."

Robert and Farnum were standing before the first division of midshipmen in the middle of the corridor, just in front of the stairway that led to the bas.e.m.e.nt. "Where is Mr. Stonewell?" called the officer-in-charge, Lieutenant-Commander Brooks; "look overhead in each corridor--what's that going on on the stairway?" he suddenly exclaimed, interrupting himself.

A midshipman was seen fairly running up the dark stairway, dragging by the collar of his coat another midshipman, who was vainly endeavoring to regain his balance and foothold.

The first midshipman was Stonewell. In a moment he had reached the head of the stairway, and then, with a mighty effort, he hurled his heavy burden from him.

"It's Bligh," cried out Robert.

"What does this mean, Mr. Stonewell?" demanded Lieutenant-Commander Brooks, in wondering accents. Fourth Cla.s.sman Bligh presented a rueful, crestfallen figure. Stonewell had handled him with no gentle force, and at the head of the stairway had thrown Bligh violently from him; and he now lay in a heap on the floor. But evidently he was not seriously injured, for he commenced to sob convulsively.

Stonewell came up to Lieutenant-Commander Brooks and quietly said: "Sir, some time ago I thought I learned the source of the mysterious cries we heard then and which were repeated a few minutes ago. I went up into the tower and saw a boatswain's chair in the ventilating shaft which leads from the top of the building to the bas.e.m.e.nt. This boatswain's chair was on a long rope which led through a pulley block overhead, and by it a man can lower himself from the top of the building to the bas.e.m.e.nt in the ventilating shaft--I suppose it's there so that a person can lower himself to make any repairs that are needed in the shaft. When I heard the cry to-night I ran to the bas.e.m.e.nt--to the opening of the ventilating shaft--and before long I could see somebody coming down. I didn't know who it was, but suspected it was Bligh, and it was. He gave his last yell when he was even with this floor. Then he lowered himself to the bottom and I collared him just as he got down."

Mr. Bligh was a pitiable spectacle. "It was only a joke, sir," he gasped incoherently. "I meant to do no harm, sir; it was just a little fun. Mr.

Stonewell had no occasion to use me so roughly--he hurt me, sir."

"Go to my office immediately, sir," ordered Lieutenant-Commander Brooks. "I will attend to your case later. Mr. Stonewell, you have done well, as usual. Dismiss the battalion, turn everybody in, and have the usual inspection made," and the officer-in-charge left and returned to his office.

Fourth Cla.s.sman Henry Bligh got up slowly. He looked from face to face; not one friendly expression did he find.

Full of pent-up feelings which he dared not express Bligh turned and left.

"Dismiss the battalion, sir," ordered Cadet Commander Stonewell to Cadet Lieutenant-Commander Farnum.

"Companies are dismissed," rang out through the corridor. "Go to your rooms immediately and turn in. Company officers make the usual taps inspection."

CHAPTER XV

STONEWELL RECEIVES A LETTER

When Henry Bligh became a midshipman he was not at all a vicious young man. But he arrived at Annapolis with an unformed character. His predominating trait was a desire for applause, and early in his fourth cla.s.s year his football ability had many times earned for him vociferous applause. It was his predominating desire, a pa.s.sion to become personally famous, that had urged him to give the signal for the Gates forward pa.s.s when playing against Harvard--the dishonor attached to the act had not been clearly fixed in his mind. The immediate result, his dismissal from the football squad in disgrace, his execration by the entire brigade of midshipmen--the change of his position from one of bright fame to contemptuous disesteem, had immediate effect upon the unformed character of Mr. Henry Bligh. He was plunged in the blackest of gloom and he brooded day and night over his troubles.

It was a pity he had no close friend to talk with, no older midshipman to be advised by. Amongst the midshipmen there had been a burst of anger against him and then he had been left entirely alone.

No organized "coventry" was declared against him, but a most effective, far-reaching one existed. Its direct result was to make Bligh continually unhappy, and this engendered in him pa.s.sionate anger. Anger must find an object, and Bligh's directed its full force upon Stonewell and Blunt. The former, so he believed, had been the cause of all of his troubles; the latter had supplanted him at football, had defeated him in a personal fight.

On that first night when the midshipmen of Bancroft Hall had been so startled by the awful cry of "Save me," Bligh had been in the bas.e.m.e.nt; he heard the cries and found Farnum, out of his head, seated in the boatswain's chair at the bottom of the ventilating shaft. Bligh of course immediately knew what had happened, but he kept this knowledge to himself.

On the night spoken of in the last chapter, Bligh had been on the sick list, and therefore was excused from company muster. It occurred to him that he could perpetrate this act and scare the hundreds of midshipmen who had showered such contumelious treatment upon him.

It really would have been a good joke had it succeeded, but unfortunately for Bligh his detection rendered his position almost unbearable. He had been roughly treated by Stonewell; and now whenever he pa.s.sed a cadet officer he was halted and given directions.

"Brace up, Mr. Bligh, put your heels together, little fingers on the seams of your trousers, chest out, belly in, head up, chin in."

Had the joke been done by Gla.s.sfell or perhaps any upper cla.s.sman it would have been laughed at. But to have been perpetrated by a plebe was an indignity to time-honored midshipman custom. And that the plebe should have been Mr. Bligh made the act worse than an indignity; it was an unbearable thought. And so for a while Plebe Bligh figured on every delinquency conduct report. Cadet officers suddenly discovered that Fourth Cla.s.sman Bligh's hair was too long, his clothes not brushed, his shoes not shined. Bligh grew nearly frantic, morning after morning, at hearing such a report read out as:

"Bligh, Wearing torn trousers at morning inspection.

"Same, Soiled collar at same.

"Same, Not properly shaved at same."

Bligh, much as he was to be blamed, really was to be pitied. No midshipman was ever more friendless, ever more in need of kindly direction. Under some circ.u.mstances he might have developed a useful character, a high standard of thought and action. But in his lonely life there was nothing but black, bitter hopelessness. Bligh was in a state of mind to yield to dark temptation if it presented itself. Had his mental state been known some one might have taken him in hand and befriended him and directed his thoughts to more wholesome subjects. But Bligh made no advances to any one and in sad silence unknown and unthought of, brooded tempestuously.

Beautiful May once more held dominion over man and nature at Annapolis.

For the midshipmen there were studies, to be sure, but the studies were all reviews of previous lessons and therefore were easy. And then there were drills, but these, this last month, were always in the presence of hundreds of visitors and therefore of particular interest to the midshipmen drilling. Cadet Lieutenant Drake, marching his company across the parade ground, and giving in stentorian tones such orders as:

"Squads right, full step, march," "Company shoulder arms, double time march!" felt particularly important in so doing, and thought all eyes were on him; and little Fourth Cla.s.sman Mumma, handling a rifle instead of a sword, and obeying instead of giving orders, knew in his own mind that the people were really looking at him, so he was filled with pride and martial ardor; and so with all of the rest of them.

And after drills were over the Academy grounds were thronged with midshipmen and their friends, and the happiness ushered in at Annapolis by every May seemed to enter all hearts.

Robert Drake now frequently called at the Blunt household and always found a warm greeting there. Harry Blunt gladdened his mother's heart by getting on the first conduct grade, and so at times was to be seen in his father's house on authorized liberty. Robert never spoke to him, and though Helen wondered why he should so cling to animosity against her brother, and thought him unreasonable, yet she contrived it that Robert and Harry were never at the same time together in the house.

"Bob," remarked Stonewell the next Sunday morning, just after the commandant had finished room inspection, "this is a glorious day; what do you say to a ramble? Let's go across the river and strike into the woods; I know a trail through there, where the woods are wonderfully thick; it will be beautiful to-day."

"Do you mean the path that leads by two old chestnut trees, trees of enormous size and now almost dead?" inquired Robert.

"Yes, that's the place; those trees must be hundreds of years old. Then wild flowers and ferns will be out, all so fresh and lovely this time of year. Don't you just long for the woods when the spring-time comes?"

"Indeed I do, Stone," cried Robert, "and this will be a fine day for a stroll."

Soon the bugles rang out their call for brigade formation and hundreds of midshipmen rushed out on the terrace. Here the companies were rapidly formed and then Cadet Commander Stonewell came to an about face, saluted and reported:

"Sir, the brigade is formed."

Upon this the commandant, accompanied by a staff of officers and cadet officers, pa.s.sed in front of the long line, scanning each midshipman closely, and corrected those who were careless in dress. The ranks were then closed and the brigade was marched to the chapel.

After service was concluded the midshipmen were dismissed and Robert and Stonewell went back to their rooms together.

In their absence mail had been distributed, and on the table in their room lay two letters, one for Robert, the other for his roommate.

Robert's letter was from his father, and was full of cheering home news, and it was eagerly read by the young man.

"By George, Stone, father enjoys his work with the Light House Board ever so much. He says----Why, Stone, old chap, what is the matter?"

Stonewell was standing at the open window, looking blankly across the waters of the Chesapeake Bay. In his left hand, crushed, was the letter he had just received. His face was drawn, and in it Robert recognized an expression he had seen but once before. Intense apprehension and worry, perhaps fear, shone from Stonewell's eyes. Apparently he was oblivious to his roommate's question, for he took no notice of it.

"What's the matter, Stone?" again cried Robert, rising from his chair, and going to his roommate.

"Oh, Bob, excuse me for not answering your question--I was--I was thinking of something else."

"But have you had bad news? You surely have, Stone. Can't you talk it over with me? Just think how much good you did me when I had bad news."