Several days after this last unsuccessful attempt was made to injure Ralph Osborn, at about eight o’clock one evening a window in the second story of sick quarters, the midshipmen’s hospital (which was a separate building situated at a little distance from main quarters) was cautiously opened, and a head slowly appeared; the owner of it looked up and down, evidently satisfying himself no one was about, and then his entire body emerged from the window, and in a moment he was on the veranda just outside. He stepped quickly across the veranda and immediately climbed down one of the supporting columns and was soon in the grounds without having been seen by anybody. He walked quickly and easily toward the other part of the yard, keeping in the shadow of trees and avoiding the walks; but in crossing Maryland Avenue he espied an officer approaching him. The young man immediately adopted an aggravated limp.

“Halt!” called out the officer, well knowing it was study hours, and that no midshipman had a right to be out of his quarters at that time.

“Are you coming from sick quarters?” he demanded.

“Yes, sir,” replied the midshipman, the tones of his voice not expressing the terror he felt.

“Very well,” replied the officer, returning the midshipman’s salute and passing on.

The midshipman limped away for a short distance and then straightening up, hurried on. In a few moments he had gained a thick clump of bushy trees near the band stand where he was lost in complete darkness.

“You’re here at last, are you, Creelton?” said a low voice from amidst the trees.

“Where are you, Short? I can’t see anything.”

“Over here. Well, you’ve failed again, have you?”

“Don’t talk so loud, Short; some one may hear you.”

“I’ll talk as loud as I please. Don’t you tell me what or what not to do, you miserable failure!”

“I’ve had enough of that kind of talk, Short; you can pipe that down from now on.”

“Oh, you have, have you? Perhaps after a little jail experience you will wish you hadn’t been so lippy to me.”

The other in sudden temper jumped upon him, and shook him violently. The weak, dissipated Short was but a child in the hands of the athletic Creelton. His teeth chattered in fear of what might be coming.

“Don’t hurt me,” he gasped. “I didn’t mean anything.”

“You’re a hound,” growled Creelton; “now, Short, just understand one thing: if you ever threaten me again, or say jail to me, I’ll beat you into a pulp; I’ve had all of that kind of talk from you I’m going to stand.”

“What will you do if I use your confession against you? Have you thought of that?”

“Yes, I have; I don’t doubt it would dismiss me but I’d make a clean breast of everything. You have that letter, have you? Well, I have all of yours; everything I have stolen has been at your instigation; your letters will prove that; if you try to use that written confession of mine you will start a blast against your name that will fill columns in every paper in the country. If I go to jail I’ll take good pains to see that you are my companion there.”

“Creelton, you wouldn’t treat me that way after all the money I’ve given you, would you?”

“Not if you’re decent. But I’ll tell you frankly I’m done. I’ll take no more risks; I’ll never do another thing against Osborn. I’m glad the last attempt failed. But it didn’t fail through any fault of mine; I did my part perfectly, and I was almost caught. I’m done, Short, entirely done,” and Creelton heaved a sigh of relief.

“Why did it fail, Creelton?”

“I don’t know. I’ve been at sick quarters and we got rumors, very indifferent ones, about what happened; Scott and the commandant were in the room, and the commandant told Osborn he would be dismissed; then Himski wanted to prove something and the section was marched out and halted; in a few minutes the commandant came up and said it was all a mistake and apologized to Osborn. That’s what I heard and I can’t afford to ask too many questions. I’m glad it did fail. You’d better give it up, Short.”

“I never will,” snapped out Short. “I’ve one last plan which I’ve thought up. It will work if I have fair luck and it will dismiss him but not in disgrace. But there’d be no use in trying it now; I’ll wait a year till this blows over. Will you help me?”

“Not a bit of it. I’m through. And don’t imagine you can ever hold that confession over my head; if you ever try to do anything with it it will hurt you worse than it will me.”

“Look here, Creelton, I’ll pay you well if you’ll help me.”

“What is your plan?”

“Will you help me?”

“I will not.”

“Then I won’t tell you. Creelton, I want to make a trade; I’ll trade your confession for my letters which you have.”

“I’ll do that when I graduate, not before.”

“Why not now?”

“Just because I won’t. You’d better take good care of my confession; if it gets out, your letters get out too.”

“I’ll give you five hundred dollars and your confession for them. Won’t you let me have them?”

“I will not.”

“Why not?”

“Just because you want them so badly, to keep you straight. I’ll trade when I graduate.”

“You’ll be friendly, won’t you, Creelton?” asked the miserable Short, anxiously.

“That depends on you.”

“Here’s fifty dollars, Creelton; take it.”

“I don’t want your money; I won’t take it.”

“Oh, yes you do; I’ve lots more, millions. Creelton, let’s be friendly even if you won’t help me against Osborn. I want you to spend your September leave with me; I’ve just bought a beautiful steam yacht; we can have a fine time cruising about in September. What do you say?”

“That will be glorious, Short,” cried Creelton enthusiastically; “I’ll be glad to. But look here, if it were known I was cruising with you everybody would imagine you and I had put up those jobs on Osborn.”

“Oh, you’ll be Mr. Smith till we get away to sea or foreign ports. We’ll fix that all right.”

From now on a most amicable conversation ensued, and Creelton was fired with delight at the idea of a yachting trip. They separated after nine-thirty, Creelton getting back to sick quarters without his absence being known and Short going out to the hotel.

The next day Creelton was discharged from the sick list and returned to his quarters. He greeted Ralph effusively. The latter looked worried and said but little.

“What’s the matter, Os?” queried Creelton. “You don’t seem pleased to see me.”

“Creelton, there’s only one midshipman in this whole Academy that I trust,” replied Ralph, looking fixedly at him. “I have an enemy here; I believe it is a classmate. I feel I am apt to be stabbed in the back at any moment. I have had too many serious things happen to me to permit me to be easy in my mind; I am haunted by fear every moment. The thought that is in my mind at this moment is,” and here Ralph’s eyes seemed to look Creelton through and through, “you may be the man.”

Creelton’s breath came in quick gasps; he felt as though something within him had ceased to exist, that animation and feeling had stopped for a moment, and then had suddenly burst the barrier in a great rush of throbbing and beating. “Oh, don’t say that, Os; you can’t think that of me,” he blurted out in his confusion.

“You may be the man,” repeated Ralph, almost oracularly, his eyes never leaving Creelton’s blanched face, with a strange wondering feeling in his heart that he would not be surprised if Creelton were his mysterious, unknown foe.

Before Creelton could make any reply, a tap was heard at the door and the midshipman in charge of the floor entered.

“Osborn and Creelton, report to the officer-in-charge immediately,” he ordered and then disappeared.

They went at once to the office where Lieutenant Fellows was in charge; Bollup was already there.

“Ordered to report to you, sir,” said Ralph.

“Ah, yes. Mr. Osborn, you are to shift roommates; you are to room with Mr. Himski,—move your things after drill to-day.”

“Very well, sir; but may I ask who has ordered the change?”

“The commandant has. And, Mr. Bollup, you are to room with Mr. Streeter; change after drill. Mr. Creelton, you are to move into a smaller room, to number 169.”

“Very well, sir; but can you tell me why this change is made?” asked Creelton.

“It’s the commandant’s order; you may see him if you desire.”

As they left the office, Ralph said to Creelton in a low voice, with his eyes full of meaning: “Creelton, I believe that you are the man, and I believe the commandant knows it.”

“I’m not; don’t you dare say that,” stammered Creelton.

“I believe you’re the man,” repeated Ralph, walking away.

He went directly to Himski’s room and found him there alone.

“Himski, I’m going to room with you,” he cried, “and I’m so glad. I’ve become suspicious of everybody but you and those people in the section with me; I’ve about worried myself sick. But now I feel I know who my enemy is; I’ve no proof but I feel it in my bones. I believe it’s Creelton. Isn’t that awful? I was suspecting everybody pretty much and I suddenly told Creelton I believed it was he. I’d been thinking that of almost everybody I had looked at lately; but somehow, I can’t tell why, when I said that to Creelton, the conviction suddenly came over me that he was the one who has done all of these terrible things against me. It was an instinctive feeling with me, something that surged up in my heart. It’s an awful thing to accuse a man of; the more I have thought of it the stronger I believe it.”

“What did he say when you accused him of it?” asked Himski eagerly.

“Oh, I don’t know; he denied it, of course, and seemed scared. He sort of stammered. But say, Himski, do you know why I am ordered to room with you?”

“Yes, Os. I have been studying this remarkable hatred that has followed you so relentlessly. Such a thing must have a cause, and your discovery of Short’s villainy and his consequent expulsion must have been the cause. So I studied up Short’s record and came to the conclusion that Short’s hatred of you must be the incentive. And then I came across the fact that when Short was here as a candidate Creelton lived with him as his guest. So I have imagined that Short and Creelton have been in constant communication, and that Creelton was the active agent of Short. I told this to the commandant and suggested you room with me; I wanted to get you away from Creelton.”

“By gracious, Himski, you are what I call a real friend. You have done more for me than anybody else could have. Thank you ever so much. I’m certain it’s Creelton. Isn’t it awful to think a man can be so horrible?”

“Go slow, Os; we may be mistaken. It’s the commandant’s orders that neither of us is to speak to any one of my suspicions, and of course of your own. We must have some proof, and it may come later if he is the guilty one. You must treat him just as you always have.”

“I’ll not do so,” cried Ralph, his eyes blazing with anger; “I’ll punch his head the first time I see him.”

“No, you won’t, not if you’re sensible; wait till we can prove him guilty; it would be foolish now. We might defeat all chances of detecting him.”

Ralph thought for a few moments, and then said: “All right; I’ll leave him alone, but I’ll never speak to him. I’ll not be the same to him as I have been.”

“Very well, Os; but be careful not to talk to any one.”

“I won’t, but I’m glad I’m going to room with you. I’ll bring in my things after drill.”

Ralph returned to his room where he found Creelton with a flushed, worried face.

“Os, you can’t have meant what you said,” he commenced.

“Every word of it, Creelton,” returned Ralph. “I believe this whole business is the work of you and Short, that you are Short’s tool. That’s my opinion, Mr. Creelton; you can go to the commandant about it if you wish; but I’ll never speak to you again.”

Creelton listened to Ralph with dry mouth and parched lips; his feet seemed to give way, he staggered to the table, and then helplessly fell into his chair. His breath came quickly and he seemed dazed, for he made no effort to reply to Ralph. His staring eyes, full of apprehension, seemed starting from their sockets. He had the appearance of a thoroughly frightened man; one whose guilt had suddenly been discovered.

After Ralph was settled with Himski it seemed to him that he had never been so free from worry since his entrance at Annapolis. He was firm in the belief that Creelton was the secret enemy who had so shamefully attacked him, and now, knowing in his heart that it was Creelton, he no longer worried about it. A secret enemy may be feared while a known one disdained. And this was the effect upon Ralph. A heavy, anxious load seemed immediately lifted from his mind. He kept entirely aloof from Creelton and cut him utterly. Neither he nor Creelton told anybody of the cause of the trouble between them. When questioned Creelton said it was a misunderstanding; Ralph said he could not discuss it.

Toward Creelton Ralph had but one thought; that it was a monstrous idea that a man so vicious and criminal, as Ralph believed Creelton to be, could remain a midshipman; he wanted to have Creelton’s room searched and proposed other means to determine the question of his guilt. Creelton’s room was searched, at his own request, by Himski, but no evidence was found against him. From this time on Creelton roomed alone and gradually withdrew from the set he had formerly been most intimate with. But he was a bright young man mentally, and in his studies stood near the head of his class.