At this time in the battalion of midshipmen there were something over three hundred young men, of whom about one hundred were fourth classmen or “plebes.” Some years were yet to elapse before the battalion was enlarged into a brigade of eight hundred.

The day the upper classmen returned from leave was one of great activity. They had to unpack and arrange their rooms, turn in their citizen’s clothes, and naturally there was much hand-shaking and many enthusiastic greetings. Lists had been posted on the bulletin-boards containing the new battalion organization, and each midshipman found his own name and after it the number of his room and of his seat in the mess hall, and other necessary information. Other lists were posted, dividing each class into sections of from eight to twelve men for recitations, and on these lists were to be found the lessons prescribed for the next day. By these means there was no confusion whatever. Everything had been thought out beforehand and all necessary information of one kind and another was found posted on the bulletin-boards.

Ralph Osborn found himself assigned to the second division, the commander of which was Cadet Lieutenant Baldwin. He and Creelton were quartered in room No. 131. The senior midshipman in command of the battalion was Cadet Lieutenant-Commander Holman. His rank was denoted by four narrow gold stripes on his sleeve. The cadet lieutenants commanding the divisions wore three stripes. Lower in rank were “two stripers” and “one stripers,” and below them were the “cadet petty officers,” or “buzzards,” as they were termed from their wearing on their sleeves a gold embroidered American eagle.

The cadet officers and petty officers were all of the first class. They had prescribed daily duties, and under the general direction of the commandant of midshipmen were in military control of the battalion. Besides these there were always on duty an officer-in-charge who was a lieutenant, and a number of midshipmen temporarily detailed as “officers of the day,” and “midshipman in charge of floor.” These midshipmen were of the first and second classes and were changed daily, all coming on in their regular turns.

There were three lieutenants detailed as “officer-in-charge.” Each of these officers came on duty once in three days for twenty-four hours, during which time he messed with the midshipmen and slept in the same building where they were quartered. He was the mouthpiece of the commandant and in addition carried on the routine and issued orders to the cadet officers, and had certain inspections to make. His immediate assistants were those midshipmen who were on the temporary detail.

At formations the new cadet officers took charge with the air and manner of veterans. Their orders rang out sharp and clear. At supper formation of the first day of their return Ralph Osborn found himself in the middle of the rear rank of the second division. Soon there was a bugle call, and then the cadet first petty officer, standing fronting the division, read the roll of the midshipmen of his company. “Here,” answered Ralph, when he heard “Osborn” called out. Then Cadet Lieutenant Baldwin took charge. “Second company right dress! Back in the center, dress up on the left. Up a little extreme left. Steady! Front!”

Then the cadet adjutant, a two striper, read out several orders, and soon after, the cadet lieutenant-commander gave the order: “Battalion fours right! March!” The battalion moved like clockwork into the mess hall and when it was halted Ralph found himself at the table seat which had previously been assigned to him.

The study hours were called at half-past seven and all midshipmen were required to remain in their rooms until half-past nine. Then they were free until ten o’clock, when the midshipmen had to be in their beds.

Ralph and Creelton took up their books with great interest.

“These lessons are too long!” exclaimed Ralph. “Great CÆsar’s ghost, Creel, we’ll never have time enough to get these lessons; why look here, the algebra lesson is thirteen pages, the rhetoric is fifteen, and just look what we have to do in French! I’ll bilge sure.”[3]

“They are long, Os,” replied Creelton, “but they’re easy. I’ve boned[4] all this stuff in college and can speak French. French is always hard at first, but I’ll help you.”

“Now that’s good of you, Creel; you’ll do me lots of good.”

Their attention was now attracted by a rap on the door, and then immediately opened. A first classman wearing white gloves now entered. Ralph and Creelton jumped up, and stood at attention. The first classman looked at them and then growled, “Work hard or you’ll bilge,” and then left.

“What’s that for, I wonder?” inquired Ralph.

“Oh, I guess that’s the midshipman in charge, making his inspection to see if we’re here.”

Ralph and Creelton now commenced to study. Ralph rather skimmed through his algebra. He had always done well in mathematics at school and expected to do the same at the Naval Academy. Besides he had studied algebra as far as quadratics. So he devoted himself to rhetoric which was new and to French which was entirely foreign.

At about nine o’clock there came another rap on the door, and immediately Lieutenant Wilson entered. “Good-evening, gentlemen,” he said, glanced about the room and then withdrew.

At five minutes before ten a bugle call was heard, and both Ralph and Creelton got into their beds. Shortly after ten Cadet Lieutenant Baldwin entered their room, saw they were both turned in, and left.

The next morning, they were turned out by reveille and gun-fire at six o’clock, and soon after a cadet officer inspected the room to see that they were up and that their beds were turned back. Breakfast formation was held half an hour later.

“Open ranks,” ordered the four striper. A moment later he reported to the officer-in-charge: “Sir, the battalion is ready for inspection.”

Lieutenant Wilson walked in front of the ranks, scanning each midshipman narrowly. Pausing in front of Creelton he said: “Clothes not properly brushed. Report him.” In front of Ralph he said: “Hair not properly cut. Shoes not polished. Report him.” Their names were taken and were read out the next morning before the battalion on the “Delinquency Conduct Report.”

Ralph was given three demerits for “shoes not polished.” Creelton received three for his offense. “Thunder,” grumbled Ralph. “If I receive demerits like this I’ll never get a Saturday liberty. Fourth classmen are only allowed twenty-one demerits a month.”

“Oh, we’ll be more careful,” returned Creelton lightly.

It must be admitted that in the first days Ralph did miserably in his recitations. His mark in algebra was barely satisfactory, and in rhetoric he was most unfortunately sent to the blackboard to write on a subject in the last part of the prescribed lesson, something he had not even read over. In French all of the midshipmen of his section except himself had previously had some instruction, as it happened, and poor Ralph by comparison was at a great disadvantage. The French instructor had him repeat after him some simple French words and sounds and was indignant at his inability to do so.

“Ah, Meestair Osborng, eet ees so eazie. Ven feerst I learn ze Eenglis, vairy feerst day, I haf eegsatlie ze vairy zame prononciacion zat I haf now. I feair zat you do not haf ze eentelejence; I nevair haf no trouble in prononcing ze Eenglis, not from ze feerst. Vat you must do, Meestair Osborng, ees to remember how eazie eet vas for me to pronounce ze Eenglis; you hear how correct I am? Vell, you must try to do ze zaime vis ze FranÇais.”

Poor Ralph stood mute. There was nothing he could say under the circumstances.

There were three instruction periods a day; each was of two hours’ duration, one of which was spent in the section room reciting; the other the midshipman spent as a study hour in his own room.

Ralph was much impressed by the number of inspections that were made. Each hour in the day an inspecting officer, one of the midshipmen on special duty, entered his room to see that he was there; or if not there, to inquire into the cause of his absence. Ralph felt, as never before, he was under the iron hand of discipline, where he was under constant surveillance and had to account for himself and his actions for every moment of the day. Studies finished at four o’clock and then drill commenced and lasted until half-past five and sometimes later. At the end of the drill Ralph was always tired, but a rest, a bath, and supper proved very refreshing, and during the evenings he always studied with great determination.

The days rapidly passed and were full of interest to Ralph, but he was in a much distressed state of mind about his studies. He continued to do poorly in rhetoric, and for his French his instructor exhibited impatient contempt. In mathematics Ralph was satisfactory, but not much more so. He felt he could not spare much time to prepare his lessons in this subject because he was so low in the other two. He felt very grateful to his roommate for the earnest efforts the latter took to help him in French. Creelton gave up much of his leisure time for this purpose, and but for him Ralph would have been badly unsatisfactory the first month in that subject. As it was, his first month’s mark in French was but 2.53, only three-hundredths above satisfactory. In rhetoric Ralph had 2.68, and in algebra 2.73, for the first month’s average.

When these marks were published Ralph was a very crestfallen young man. In his secret thoughts he had hoped to stand number one in his class; he always had done so in Toledo, but his rank for the first month was far down. It was Ralph’s nature to be thorough in what he did, and as a result he never was able to get completely over the lesson before starting for recitation; and he was remarkably unfortunate in frequently being called upon to recite on a part of the lesson he had not studied.

Creelton was doing splendidly; for the first month he had over 3.50 in each subject and stood about number three in class rank; he was devoted to Ralph; there was never a time but what he willingly put away his own work to help Ralph in his French.

In November Ralph did somewhat better in his studies and this encouraged him. Himski was apparently standing number one, and to the surprise of all, the irrepressible, rollicking Bollup was easily number two. Taylor, Streeter, and Warren were also of this group, and these seven young men were always to be found together and were known to the rest of the class as “Himski’s Bunch.”

One day late in November, Bollup came to Ralph’s room, his face flushed with anger. “There’s some thief in this building,” he indignantly cried. “Somebody has pinched my gold watch.”

“By George, that’s too bad, Bollup!” exclaimed Ralph. “That was a fine watch you had; are you certain it was stolen? Couldn’t it be misplaced?”

“Of course I’m certain! I left it in the top shelf of my wardrobe when I went to drill to-day; I always do that; and as soon as I came back from drill I went to get it and it wasn’t there.”

“Who could have done it?” asked Creelton.

“I wish I knew; he wouldn’t stay long at this place. Fellows, there’s a thief in this school wearing a midshipman’s uniform. I’m certain of it.”

“Impossible!” exclaimed Creelton. “It must have been one of the colored building men.”

“Not on your life. The watch was stolen between four and six o’clock to-day and in those hours there wasn’t a corridor boy in the building.”

“By George, that’s an awful thing to say, Bollup; I hope it isn’t so.”

“Well, it is, mark me. And it was the same thief who stole twenty dollars from me on the cruise. I’m going to try to find out if anybody was seen going to my room when I was out.”

“I stopped in your room on my way to drill to-day thinking to pick you up, but you had gone,” remarked Ralph, quietly.

“Oh, that’s all right, Os. But I’d like to catch the thief, that’s all. And he’ll be found out, mark my words,” and Bollup left.

“This is awful, Os,” said Creelton. “I hope Bollup is mistaken.”

“I hope so, but he seems certain.”

Bollup went about, telling of his loss, and the matter was much talked of by the midshipmen. The idea that there might be a thief among them produced a most uncomfortable feeling.

A couple of days later, at about eleven o’clock in the morning, a letter and a small box were delivered to Ralph. Opening the letter he was delighted to see it was from his Uncle George. It was dated from New York City, and said:

“Oh,” Ralph exclaimed, “just listen to this, Creel,” and he read him the letter. “Now let’s open the box.” He did so, and in it found a handsome gold watch with a light gold chain attached to it. Ralph was wild with delight. He had always wanted a watch and he was enthusiastically happy to have such a beautiful one. “And just think, Creel,” he said, “I can’t even thank my uncle; I don’t know where a letter would reach him.”

“Indeed,” remarked Creelton, much interested; “how’s that, Os?”

“Well, you see none of us know anything about him; he left home twenty years ago, and only occasionally writes us a letter. Sometimes he has written us from New York and sometimes from London and other places, but we don’t know what business he is in and he seldom tells us where to address him. Now look at this letter. Uncle George doesn’t even know that my father is dead.”

Ralph put his uncle’s letter in his table drawer and again both youths delightedly examined and handled the watch. In the back it was inscribed:

“To Ralph Osborn, from his uncle, George H. Osborn.”

The watch interfered with his studies for the rest of that morning. Before going to drill, as he changed into working clothes, he carefully placed his beloved treasure on a shelf in the wardrobe under some towels. “I hope the thief won’t find it,” he remarked to Creelton. “I’m almost afraid to let it be known that I have it.”

Creelton left and Ralph followed a few minutes later.

Just after drill, while Ralph was shifting from his working clothes to his service uniform, Bollup and Himski came into his room.

“Hello!” cried Ralph. “Say, fellows, I’ve something to show you; my Uncle George has sent me a watch. Here it is.”

Ralph went to his wardrobe, put his hand on the shelf and took out the watch and chain.

“Isn’t it a beau——” Ralph started to say when a look of blank amazement spread over his face.

“Why, why,” he feebly said, “this isn’t my watch, Bollup, why, why—it’s yours—why, I don’t understand this; why, Bollup, my uncle sent me a watch. I received it at eleven o’clock this morning; at four o’clock, just before I went to drill, I put it in my wardrobe—this is your watch, Bollup.”

“I should say it was, Osborn; it’s been mine for a couple of years. Now look here, Osborn, there’s a thief in this Academy, and it’s up to you to explain how you got this watch.” And Bollup looked keenly at Ralph.

“Bollup, you know as much as I do as to how I came in possession of your watch.”

“Well, I’d like to know something more about the story of the watch sent you by your uncle.”

“I most certainly shall insist upon everybody knowing about that,” said Ralph. “The watch came by registered mail this morning, and with it a letter from my Uncle George telling me he was sending it to me.”

“Of course you haven’t torn up the letter?” questioned Bollup in a sneering tone.

“I have not. The letter is in my table drawer; I’ll show it to you.” And Ralph drew open the drawer.

The letter was nowhere to be found.

Bollup turned shortly on his heel, and without another word left the room, followed by Himski.