ROBERT RESIGNS

"Didn't I tole yo' so, suh? That other man was Mistah Harry Blunt, suh; didn't yo' hear Mistah Stonewell call him Harry, suh? An' suppose dis ole niggah had done tole the commandan' that Mistah Stonewell, the fines' gemman in the 'Cademy, and Mistah Harry Blunt, the son of Capt'in Blunt, were stealin' zamnations, what would have happened ter ole Grice? He'd been 'cused of lyin', yo' knows dat, Mistah Drake. I known fer seberal months dat Mistah Harry Blunt been goin' about town in cibilians' close, but I ben feared to tole any one. Ain't I right, Mistah Drake? We done catched 'em, suh, an' yo' is evidence that ole Grice done tole de truf."

With horror in his heart, and almost unmanned by the situation which had so suddenly burst upon him, Robert was speechless. He was confused, entirely confounded. That one of these unprincipled midshipmen was Harry Blunt did not surprise Robert; he was quite ready to believe anything of that young man. But it brought him into an intensely disagreeable position. He knew he would be called upon for evidence, and to give testimony that would cover all of the Blunt family with ignominious disgrace—that family who had rescued his own father and mother from absolute want, which had put his father in a self-respecting, self-supporting position. "I had rather bilge than do it," thought our cadet lieutenant. Wild bitterness toward Harry Blunt filled his mind. And yet these feelings sank to small dimensions compared to those concerning Stonewell. Faith in everything seemed to be lost with faith and trust lost in this old friend. And combined with this was a feeling of inexpressible amazement, amazement made up of many different things.

Robert was astonished that any reason could have existed which would have induced Stonewell to join Harry Blunt in such an enterprise. In a helpless, uncertain way, Robert imagined that Blunt had some hold over Stonewell, and even this was hard to believe. "But how else can I account for it?" he asked himself. "I never would have believed anybody, or any number of people had they told me they had seen Stone do this—but it was Stone—in his uniform with his five stripes on his sleeve."

Had Robert known of a conversation between the two intruders after they had dashed out of the building, he would have been still more amazed. "It's too bad, Stonewell," said the one; "you did it all for me—no man ever did so much for me as you have. But I'm afraid you were recognized; I wish you hadn't had on that uniform and had some disguise. I'm awfully sorry I got you into this."

"Don't feel that way, Harry; I suggested it," replied the other. "I hope I was not recognized. But if I were, I will have to stand for it. Did you see anybody in the room?"

"No," answered Harry; "my one hope is that whoever it was didn't see you; nobody would have known me. Good-night; I'll be around to Conduit Street to-morrow afternoon and will tell you of any talk I may hear."

Now that old Grice's mind was easy in regard to himself he was much concerned about Robert.

"Doan yo' feel bad, Mistah Drake. The commerdan' will think yo' is a smart young gemman when yo' report this; he won' think yo' had nuffin' to do with it yo'self. I'ze gwine ter tell him I couldn't hev detected the gemmen ef it hadn't been fer yo', an' he'll give yo' Mistah Stonewell's five stripes, suah as yo' is bawn, he will, suh."

Grice rolled his eyes in ecstasy. He imagined he too would receive praise and reward for what he had done, and now he was quite happy.

"Shut up," cried Robert, annoyed beyond endurance at his rambling. And without another word, or so much as a glance at Grice, he slowly walked away and returned to his room. He feared yet hoped he might find Stonewell there. "If I could only see Stone," he thought, "I'd surely learn some excuse for him. But why did he do this? Why did he pretend to go to Washington? Why should he engage in such an affair with Harry Blunt?" Countless other questions crowded themselves into Robert's mind, but to not one could he find a suitable answer.

He found his room empty, nor was there any evidence that Stonewell had been there. Robert paced restlessly up and down the room in troubled thought, and as the minutes dragged on he grew more and more hopeless.

"Well, I'm done for, as well as Stone and Harry Blunt. I suppose Grice will report this matter, and I'll be called up; I'll have to give my evidence against Stone and Blunt or else be bilged myself. Well, I'll bilge. I can't help what Stone has done; I could never be happy if my evidence were to dismiss him. As for that Blunt, who got him into this—well, he's the son of Captain Blunt, and Helen's brother. I never could convince them I was not an ungrateful cur. No, Stone and I will both bilge together; but I wonder if Stone isn't now in Blunt's room——" and Robert stopped short.

It was now after midnight, and all the midshipmen were back from having escorted their partners to their homes. Robert looked out in the corridor and saw that the midshipman in charge of the floor had left his desk.

"The men on duty are turned in; I'll go to Blunt's room and see if Stone is there."

Robert darted through the corridor. Turning a corner near where Harry Blunt's room was he saw that young man just entering it. Robert jumped in after him.

"Where is Stonewell?" he savagely demanded.

When Blunt saw who his midnight visitor was he was visibly startled.

"Why—why—how should I know?" he stammered.

"You hound, you——" cried Robert. "Tell me where Stonewell is! Do you hear me? Tell me where Stonewell is!" And Robert seized him by both arms.

"I—I don't know—I haven't seen him for some time," faltered Harry Blunt, with a white face, in which fear was but too plainly depicted.

From the overhead transom light from a corridor lamp streamed in, and on the table in the room were three burning candles.

Robert looked suspiciously at Harry. In the latter's arms was a bundle of clothing. Robert suddenly grabbed this and opened it up. It was composed of a dark sack coat, out of which two articles fell to the floor. Robert picked them up and instantly recognized them. One was a brown slouch hat and the other a false beard. In an agony of bitterness and hate Robert completely lost control of himself. He grabbed Harry and shook him violently and then dashed him against the wall.

"You contemptible cur," he cried. "For the last time, will you tell me where Stonewell is?"

"I don't know," sullenly replied Harry.

"Do you expect to see him again to-night?"

"I do not."

Robert looked at him utterly without belief.

"Drake," implored Harry, "if you report me for this you will bilge me; you know how that will affect my people; I suppose it is your duty to report me, but if you do only one thing can happen to me. I will be dismissed; you know that as well as I do."

Robert looked at him with contempt, and left the room.

The long night passed slowly, but it brought no sleep or rest to the overwrought nerves of Robert. He went to bed and tossed about in an agony.

"Oh, that Stonewell would only come," was Robert's thought, repeated countless times. But Stonewell did not come. The moonlight faded away; the silence was broken only by the striking of bells and the monotonous call of sentries. The first gleam of dawn found Robert still wide awake, hopeless and dejected. Mechanically he prepared his room and himself for Sunday inspection. Finally reveille was sounded, the gun thundered and Bancroft Hall burst into life. Later came breakfast formation and Robert, against his inclination, had to mix with the other midshipmen.

"What's the matter, Bob?" inquired Peters, with friendly concern; "you're not looking well."

"Oh, I'm all right," impatiently answered Robert. Then came breakfast, which seemed interminable. Robert sat at his table's head longing for the order "rise." Food would have choked him; he gulped down a cup of coffee, and sat idly drumming the table.

After breakfast Glassfell came up to him. "Look here, Bob, what's bothering you?" he asked with real solicitude. "You're not yourself this morning, old chap. What's the trouble?"

"Have you seen Stonewell?" abruptly asked Robert.

"By jingo!" exclaimed Glassfell. "Last night I could have sworn I saw Stonewell pass me. I was on Main Street, and a midshipman with some stripes, and I thought a good many, passed me in a great hurry and turned into Conduit Street. It was dark and yet at the time I had no thought but that it was Stonewell. 'Hello, Stone!' I called out; 'I thought you were in Washington;' but the fellow paid no attention to me. He seemed to be in a hurry, almost running. Then I concluded I must have been mistaken, because I knew Stone was in Washington, and it was pretty dark. The thing bothered me a bit for the time, but I must have been mistaken. I had taken my partner home from the Armory and was on my way back. It was about half-past eleven, I think. But why do you ask me about Stone? He won't be back from Washington until ten this morning."

"If you see him tell him I'm looking for him," and Robert turned away. He now wanted to be by himself. He went in one of the wing corridors and looked out of the window, hardly replying to different salutations of midshipmen who passed him. Outside it was raining, one of those tenacious rains that seem determined to last throughout the day. Overhead were spread heavy dark forbidding clouds; the day was gloomy and hopeless, but not nearly so much so as felt this midshipman.

After a while one stroke of the bell told Robert it was half-past eight, and soon he saw the commandant's tall form, wrapped up in a great rubber coat, come down the walk. Some time later he saw two figures emerge from the trees that line the main walk; one he recognized as that of Commander Beckwith, the head of the Department of Mathematics, the other, of low figure and shambling walk, he instantly recognized as that of old Grice. With throbbing heart, Robert watched them until they disappeared into the commandant's office; then the cadet lieutenant went to his room.

It was evident to him that Grice had told his story to Commander Beckwith and the latter was now talking with the commandant about it. Robert waited for the summons he knew was coming, to appear before the commandant. Thoughts came surging through his brain. Sooner than testify against Stonewell he would accept dismissal. And likewise, in spite of his bitter dislike toward Harry Blunt, before he would bring disgrace upon the dear friends who had done so much for him, he would accept dismissal. Robert, with a steady mind, without hesitation, determined on this stand. He now knew his last moment of inaction had arrived. Not that he had any hope or expectation of saving either Stonewell or Blunt, but that he should be the means of their disgrace and dismissal was an unbearable thought. It were far better to bilge.

Steps were heard in the corridor and Farnum appeared at his door.

"Hello, Bob," he said, "the commandant wants to see you right away. He's in his office."

"All right, Farnum, I'll start in a moment." And then taking a sheet of official paper, and hurriedly heading it, he wrote:

"I hereby tender my resignation as a midshipman in the naval service."

This he signed, and with it in his hand he walked down the corridor, and was soon standing before the commandant.