Ralph stood in the middle of his room helpless, dazed and stupefied. In a moment hot feelings surged through his heart and uncontrolled tears blinded his sight. He had lost his beautiful watch, true: this was aggravating and annoying almost beyond endurance. But as Bollup so abruptly left the room Ralph suddenly realized that Bollup believed him to be a thief. Bollup, the man he loved, his best friend in all the world! The thought was maddening. Ralph looked around helplessly, and his eye lighted upon a crumpled bit of paper in the corner of the room. It was the wrapper and box in which the watch had been sent. He seized this and was about to rush out when Creelton entered.

“Hello, Os,” he said, in his bright, cheery way; “what’s up? Why, old chap, what’s the matter with you?”

“Everything is the matter,” cried Ralph. “Come along with me; I need you.” Ralph clutched him by the arm and hurried him down the corridor, much to the astonishment of Creelton. In a moment Ralph had thrown open the door of Bollup’s room, and still having Creelton by the arm, rushed in.

“It’s awful to think such a thing of Os, but what can I believe?” Bollup was saying to a group of his classmates, composed of Himski, Taylor and Streeter. All were much disturbed and excited in manner.

“Bollup, you think I stole your watch!” exclaimed Ralph, bursting into the conversation. “Can you imagine a thief would show you the watch he had stolen from you, pretending it was a present from his uncle? Look at that paper and box,” and Ralph threw them on the table before Bollup. “That’s what my watch came in this morning. It was registered, you can see for yourself. Creel saw the watch and the letter and knows I received the watch. He saw me open the package and take it out. Ask him; I haven’t spoken to him about it since I saw you.”

“What’s all this about?” asked Creelton, bewildered.

“It’s just this, Creel,” interrupted Himski; “Os told Bollup and me he had received a watch from his Uncle George, and went to get the watch out of his locker to show it to us: and it happened to be the watch that had been stolen from Bollup. Os went to get the letter he said he had received from his Uncle George but couldn’t find it, and he doesn’t know his uncle’s address. Do you know anything about the watch Os claims to have received?”

“Why, yes,” answered Creelton slowly; “a watch came to him this morning. I saw it; it was a handsome gold watch, and also a chain came with it.”

“What was inscribed on the inside case?” exclaimed Ralph, impatiently.

“‘Ralph Osborn, from his Uncle George,’ or something like that,” replied Creelton deliberately.

“Did you see the letter he spoke of?” asked Himski.

“Yes, I read it. His uncle wrote from New York, and spoke of the watch as a Christmas present; he said he was leaving the city and would write later; I don’t remember exactly—but I saw the letter.”

“Fellows,” said Ralph, “I’m paralyzed, that’s all I can say. And I’m suspected of being a thief! I’ve lost my beautiful watch, but that’s a small thing in comparison.” Ralph spoke bitterly. “And there’s one thing that’s got to be settled right now. I want to know just exactly what you think of me.”

Himski crossed the room to where Ralph was standing with outstretched hand, and said heartily, “That’s what I think of you, Os.”

Bollup came up and offered his hand and said: “Forgive me, Os, if I need forgiveness. I’d rather bilge than believe that you had taken these things. But great heavens, how can this thing be explained? My watch is stolen. You receive a present of a watch and go to show it to me, and on the end of your chain is my watch. There’s a dirty thief here, fellows, and he’s got something against Os; that’s all there’s about it. Os, you must have an enemy here.”

“I can’t imagine it,” replied Ralph; “enemies so dark and mysterious don’t exist in real life; there isn’t a soul here I have ever had trouble with. It’s beyond me, fellows.”

Everybody present assured Ralph of their belief in his innocence, and Ralph felt better; Creelton now said: “Fellows, suppose we all agree not to speak of this matter to any one; it will be distorted and rumors will be spread about that will injure Os. Besides, if we——”

Ralph turned upon Creelton with flashing eyes and said: “Creel, do you pretend to be a friend of mine?”

“Why, you know I am, Os,” replied Creelton weakly, and much surprised at Ralph’s vehemence.

“Then don’t you ever propose to hush this matter up. We’re going to see the commandant at nine to-morrow morning, you and I and Himski and Bollup. We’ll tell him everything about it, and I want every one of you to talk about this thing to everybody you know.”

“All right, Os, but I think my way is best.”

“Stop thinking that way, or I’ll stop thinking you’re a friend of mine,” retorted Ralph.

The four midshipmen were before the commandant the next morning. The latter asked innumerable questions and directed each to write a complete statement detailing all he knew of the matter. In dismissing them he said: “I congratulate you on having such staunch friends, Mr. Osborn.”

The matter was discussed at great length by all midshipmen. The general feeling throughout the battalion was that a thief was present, probably one of the corridor boys, who had stolen Bollup’s watch and had endeavored to have the theft fastened on Osborn. But the matter was enveloped in so much mystery that no very clear ideas about it were expressed.

Ralph was very fearful and much worried. He resolved, if anything were said casting a reflection in any way upon him, to hold his temper and immediately report the matter to the commandant.

One afternoon, a few days after this occurrence, Third Classman Coleman came into his room. Ralph and Creelton immediately stood up, a mark of respect always shown by plebes to upper classmen who enter their rooms.

“So, Mr. Osborn,” sneered Coleman, “somebody stole Mr. Bollup’s watch, I hear, and the watch was found at the end of your chain. And so your uncle, whom you have never seen, who lives, you do not know where, has sent you a watch! Strange, about your uncle and the watch he sent you, and the letter he wrote you, all of which have disappeared. Strange, isn’t it, Mr. Osborn? So strange, in fact, as to be pretty thin.” And Coleman’s lip curled in disgust.

“One minute, Mr. Coleman; I’ll give you a chance to say all that before the commandant.”

“What are you going to do?” cried Coleman in alarm.

“I’m going to have you say that to the commandant, and I’m going to see him this minute.”

“I order you not to; that’s personal. I direct you to do nothing of the kind and I advise you to remember that I’m a third classman and you’re a plebe.”

“Give me any orders as a third classman, you whippersnapper, and I’ll report you for hazing. Now, get out of my room, you ugly-faced coward, or I may forget myself.” Coleman, intimidated, withdrew. A few moments later he was called to the commandant’s office and received a severe reprimand, and next day was given twenty-five demerits, a punishment that entailed loss of many esteemed privileges, for “using provoking language to another midshipman.”

At this time, everybody at the Naval Academy, officers and their families included, were tremendously interested in football. Some of Ralph’s classmates, Himski and Streeter and Creelton, were playing with the second team occasionally, and went out for practice every day. Ralph had a feeling that he would like to try football, but he was doing so poorly in his studies that he felt he could not afford to. Football practice not only took up much time but also it was exhausting, and after strenuous work at football a midshipman was not apt to be in good shape for intense mental application. It was a disastrous football season for Annapolis, and finally the Naval Academy team went down to overwhelming defeat by West Point in Philadelphia on December first.

In December the midshipmen of Ralph’s class in mathematics had algebra and geometry. Ralph felt he was barely holding his own, yet he studied conscientiously. He was improving in French, thanks to Creelton’s constant help, though he stood very low in it. He did but indifferently in rhetoric. In mathematics he felt he should be doing much better than he was; as Ralph later discovered he put too much time on studying the rules and the formulas and the way they were derived, instead of working out problems. When one works out problems he naturally uses the rules and these become impressed upon him. But in learning formulas and rules one should also apply them in working out problems. Ralph trusted to his knowledge of rules and principles and formulas to help him with the problems he had to do in recitation and on examination, and in doing this he was too slow to accomplish much.

On his December examination in geometry was a problem to prove that the square of the hypotenuse of a right-angled triangle was equal to the sum of the squares of the other two sides. In preparing for this examination Ralph had felt so confident of this particular problem that he had not reviewed it; but when he came to solve it he utterly failed. He was amazed and disgusted, and made desperate efforts to do it, using up far more time than he should have afforded for one question. He finally gave it up and did the best he could in the remaining time. But when he saw his month’s standing in mathematics he was alarmed. He had made only 1.1 on the examination, and was unsatisfactory, having but 2.38 for the month.

“I’ll bilge sure,” said Ralph to Creelton, “unless I take a brace.” And he did study hard.

The month of January was spent in reviewing the work already gone over, and here Ralph’s good work in previous studying rules and formulas helped him considerably and he did fairly well in his recitations. At odd times he endeavored to prove in his own way the problem in geometry at which he had so signally failed in the December examination, and by the end of January, when the much dreaded semi-annual examinations were to begin, Ralph felt he was well prepared. After this examination the midshipmen who fail to make 2.50 for the term’s average are required to resign, and between twenty and thirty fourth classmen are generally found to be unsatisfactory each year.

“I’m on the Christmas tree,”[5] exclaimed Ralph to his roommate before the examination commenced. “I’ve only got 2.57 to go into the examination. Now let’s see. The examination mark has one-fourth weight. Three times 2.57 is 7.71. This subtracted from 10.00 leaves 2.29. And that’s what I’ve got to make on the exam; I ought to do that.”

“Of course you ought to, Os, and I’m sure you will,” replied Creelton. “You are all right in French and rhetoric, aren’t you?”

“I think so, and I have so thoroughly reviewed the math and worked out so many problems this month that I expect to make much more than a 2.50 on the exam.”

On the examination Ralph worked rapidly and he had a happy feeling he was doing everything right. Two hours were spent on algebra and two on geometry. After the examination he was confident he had made more than the requisite 2.29, but he was feverishly hungry for a sight of the marks.

On a Friday Bollup came into his room and said: “Let’s go down to the bulletin-board, Os; the math marks ought to be posted by this time.”

“All right,” said Ralph, and they went down together. A crowd of midshipmen were eagerly looking at the bulletin-board. On the board was posted a large sheet with the names of midshipmen in two columns, they being graduated according to their excellence. Ralph and Bollup crowded in.

“You’re number two, Bollup,” called some one in the crowd; “Himski is number one.”

Ralph looked up and down the right-hand column, containing the names of the lower half of the class, looking for his own name, as had been his wont. He could not find his name. He glanced up and down again and failed to see “Osborn” anywhere in the column. Then he became worried; he could not imagine why his name should not be there. That it was possibly over in the first column, in the upper half of the class, never occurred to him.

“Good gracious, Os,” suddenly called out Bollup, “but you did everlastingly thump that geometry exam, didn’t you?”

“I can’t find my name,” cried Ralph excitedly; “where is it?”

“Number 35, Os, left-hand column. You made 3.82 on your geometry and 3.26 on your algebra; your average for the examination is 3.54, and for the term 2.81.”

Ralph gave a wild “hurrah,” and feasted his eyes over these marks. Never before had anything ever looked so beautiful to him. Now he felt all his worries were over.

Two days later he was called to the office of the officer in charge. “Osborn, sir,” he reported, saluting.

“Report to the superintendent’s office immediately, Mr. Osborn,” directed Lieutenant Wilson.

“Very well, sir,” replied Ralph in great surprise, wondering what in the world the superintendent could want with him. He was soon admitted to the superintendent’s presence.

“Good-morning, Mr. Osborn,” said the latter, fixing his penetrating gray eyes upon Ralph.

“Good-morning, sir. I was directed to report to you, sir.”

“Yes. I want you to read a letter I have just received.”

He picked up a paper from his desk and handed it to Ralph. It was as follows: