muttered Dave Darrin grimly.

All three were equally at a loss to think of any explanation for such a "joke" as this. Equally improbable did it seem that any thugs of the town would expect to reap any harvest from robbing three midshipmen.

Desperately they turned to survey their surroundings. The shed was an old one, yet strongly built. There were no windows, no other door save that at which the three middies now stood baffled.

"Another good old yell," proposed Darrin.

It was given with a l.u.s.ty will, but proved as fruitless as the former one.

"We don't take the last launch back to ship," declared Farley, wild with rage.

"Which means a long string of demerits," said Dan.

"No sh.o.r.e leave to-morrow, either," groaned Darrin. "Fellows, this mishap will affect our sh.o.r.e leave throughout all the cruise."

"We can explain it," suggested Farley with a hopefulness that he did not feel at all.

"Of course we can," jeered Dave Darrin. "But what officer is fool enough to believe such a c.o.c.k-and-bull story as this one will seem? At the very least, the commandant would believe that we had been playing some pretty stiff prank ourselves, in order to get treated in this fashion. No, no, fellows! We may just as well undeceive ourselves, and prepare to take the full soaking of discipline that we're bound to get. If we attempted this sort of explanation, we'd be lucky indeed to get through the affair without being tried by general court-martial for lying."

"Drake's anchor, indeed!" exclaimed Dan in deep self disgust.

"We ought to have known better," grunted Farley, equally enraged with himself. "What on earth made us so absent-minded as to believe that a priceless relic would be kept in an old shed like this?"

"We're sure enough idiots!" groaned Dan.

"Hold on there, fellows," interrupted Dave Darrin. "Vent all your anger right on me. I'm the great and only cause of this misfortune. It was I who proposed that we take up that c.o.c.kney's invitation. I'm the real and only offender against decent good sense, and yet you both have to suffer with me."

"Let's give another yell, bigger than before," suggested Dan weakly.

They did, but with no better result than before.

"The launches are away now, anyway, I guess," groaned Farley, after consulting his watch.

"Yes, and we're up the tree with the commandant," grunted Dalzell bitterly.

"Yell again?" asked Farley.

"No," retorted Dave, shaking his head. "We've seen the uselessness of asking help from outside. Let's supply our own help. Now, then--altogether! Shoulder the door!"

A savage a.s.sault they hurled upon the door. But they merely caused it to vibrate.

"We can't do it," gasped Dan, after the third trial.

Considerable daylight filtered in through the cracks at top, bottom and one side of the door. Further back in the shed there was less light.

"Let's explore this old place in search of hope," begged Dave.

Together they started back, looking about keenly in what appeared to be an empty room.

"Say! Look at that!" cried Dave suddenly.

He pointed to a solid looking, not very heavy ship's spar.

"What good will that thing do us?" asked Farley rather dubiously.

"Let's see if we can raise it to our shoulders," proposed Dave Darrin radiantly. "Then well find out!"

"Hurrah!" quivered Dan Dalzell, bending over the spar at the middle.

"Up with it!" commanded Darrin, placing himself at the head of the spar.

Farley took hold at the further end.

"Up with it!" heaved Midshipman Darrin.

Right up the spar went. It would have been a heavy job for three young men of their size in civil life, but midshipmen are constantly undergoing the best sort of physical training.

"Now, then--a fast run and a hard b.u.mp!" called Darrin.

At the door they rushed, bearing the spar as a battering ram.

b.u.mp! The door shook and shivered.

"Once more may do it!" cheered Darrin. "Back."

Again they dashed the head of their battering ram against the door. It gave way, and, climbing through, they raced back to the pier.

But Dan, who had secured the lead, stopped with a groan, pointing out over the water.

"Not a bit of good, fellows! There go the launches, and we're the only fellows left! It's all up with our summer's fun!"

"Is it, though?" shouted Dave, spurting ahead. "Come on and find out!"

As they reached the front of the piers, down at the edge of a landing stage they espied a little steam tender.

"That boat has to take us out to the 'Ma.s.sachusetts'!" cried Darrin desperately, as he plunged down the steps to the landing stage, followed by his two chums.

[Ill.u.s.tration: The Three Midshipmen Raced Toward the Pier.]

"Who's the captain here?" called Dave, racing across the landing stage to the tender's gangplank.

"I am, sir," replied a portly, red-faced Englishman, leaning out of the wheel-house window.

"What'll you charge to land us in haste aboard the American battleship 'Ma.s.sachusetts'?" asked Darrin eagerly.

"Half a sov. will be about right, sir," replied the tender's skipper, touching his cap at sight of the American Naval uniform.

"Good enough," glowed Dave, leaping aboard. "Cast off as quickly as you can, captain, or we'll be in a heap of trouble with our discipline officers."

The English skipper was quick to act. He routed out two deckhands, who quickly cast off. Almost while the deckhands were doing this the skipper rang the engineer's bell.