“How did you come out in your exams to-day, Os?” asked Himski at the end of May, when the annual examinations were held.

“Pretty well, old chap; how did you?”

“I guess I made three fifty, but if you admit doing ‘pretty well’ it means you made a four. It’s wonderful how you knock exams, Os.”

Ralph laughed happily. “I admit I enjoy my studies,” he said; “it now seems so easy to make big marks. But you’ll stand number one for the year, Himski; I’m up in math[7] and skinny,[8] but way down in French. You’re one in that and I’m number thirty; you’ll head the class in the general average for the year.”

“Perhaps, but everything is math next year and you’ll surely stand first. And I’ll be glad to see you, too. But look out for Bollup; he’s doing very well in everything.”

“He is indeed, and he’s a double-riveted, copper-bottomed, bevel-edged, all round good fellow. Nothing could please me more than to see good fortune come to Bollup. But did you see the marks old Moehler gave me for the month? He gave me a four every day; he isn’t such a bad fellow after all, is he?”

Himski laughed. “I wouldn’t think so if he gave me a four for the month,” he replied. “Moehler is all right; he just had to get acquainted with the place, that’s all. Say, Os, why do you go to the gymnasium every night?”

“Oh, I’m practicing boxing; I’m doing some heavy weight slugging. If I should get into an argument with Creelton I’d probably lose my temper, and we’d get into a fight, and I want to be able to take care of myself.”

“You needn’t worry. If Creelton is the man we suspect he is, he’ll never fight. But we’ll have a fine time here during the summer while the other classes are on leave, won’t we?”

“Yes, but I imagine it will be hot. We are to work in the different shops every morning and have boat sailing every afternoon.”

The end of Ralph’s third class year was soon at hand. It is ever a joyous time at Annapolis; for each year at this time it blossoms into happiness. Graduation came and left Ralph a second classman, and he was immediately conscious of added dignity. The old tune “Ain’t I glad to get out of the Wilderness” once more rang in his ears. “And in two more years, Himski,” he said to his roommate, “that tune will be played for you and for me.”

Himski stood first in his class for the year, Bollup second, Ralph third, and Creelton fourth. There were now seventy midshipmen left in the class, some having been dropped, or “bilged,” as midshipmen say, for being unsatisfactory in studies.

Ralph’s class remained at Annapolis during the summer. The mornings were spent in the shops, at machine work, blacksmithing and boiler work. Here, in grimy working clothes, each midshipman was given tools and required to perform different tasks. At the end of August Ralph could turn out quite a respectable piece of work from a lathe, a shaper or planer; could weld pieces of wrought iron, and was quite an all around machinist. The afternoons were generally spent in different seamanship drills, boat sailing taking up most of the time.

September first soon came and all midshipmen except fourth classmen were given a month’s leave. Ralph left at once for Toledo, but in spite of cordial greetings from many friends, with his dear father not there, Toledo no longer seemed home to him; and so in the middle of September he joyfully accepted an invitation from Bollup to spend the remainder of his leave at the latter’s home in Virginia.

On his arrival at the little country station, he was most enthusiastically received by Bollup who was waiting for him in a buggy.

“Hurrah for you,” called out Bollup as soon as he caught sight of him. “By George, but I’m glad to see you. Hop in, old man; we’ve got a short drive and then we’ll be home and a real old Virginia supper will be ready for us.”

Happy friendship beamed all over Bollup’s handsome face, and Ralph felt he was once more with his own kind. The short drive proved to be over three miles in length on a hot, dusty road, through a country where no houses except negro shanties were to be seen. But the happy young men did not mind this, having much to talk about. Finally Bollup turned to the left down a lane, and was soon in a grove of beautiful cedar trees, whose overtowering branches completely embowered the lane they were in. “Our place commences here,” said Bollup with satisfied pride. “How do you like it?”

“Like it? I love it,” cried Ralph; “it’s beautiful. Aren’t these woods gorgeous? But where’s your house?”

“Oh, half a mile down; we won’t see it till we are close to it. Here’s where I was brought up, Os; it’s the dearest spot on earth to me. And here’s where my grandfather and his grandfather’s grandfathers for two hundred years back, lived and died. There! You can see the house now; we are just coming in view of it.”

“No wonder it is the dearest place on earth to you, Bollup. What a beautiful place to live in!”

The house was built of brick on the simple colonial lines, with great thick walls and wings on each side. It was the typical old Southern homestead. The lawns were large and beautifully kept and surrounded by heavy woods. At the back was the beautiful James River.

Bollup’s father and mother, and his two sisters, Gladys and Dorothy, were awaiting them, and gave Ralph a real heartfelt Virginia welcome.

“I’m glad to meet you, sir,” said Colonel Bollup, a Virginian of obsolescent type. “Tom’s friends are my friends, sir, and I bid you welcome to our home, sir. This is Mrs. Bollup, Tom’s mother, and these young ladies are his sisters. Now, sir, you will probably want to remove the dust of travel and wash up a bit, and, Tom, suppose you go and pick some mint; select only the small, tender, upper branches; we’ll introduce Mr. Osborn to a real mint julep, something basely imitated all over the land, sir, all over the land, but never successfully.”

Kindly greetings were showered on Ralph by Mrs. Bollup; she was glad to meet one of her boy’s friends. Ralph liked them all immediately; he was instantly attracted by the frank, blue-eyed, beautiful Gladys who was about eighteen years old; she was tall and slender and good to look at. Dorothy was six years younger and was evidently much interested in her brother’s friend.

Ralph was led into a cool, spacious room. Great content entered his heart as he looked out on the broad James. “I wish I could always live in a place like this,” he reflected. “How beautiful such a life would be!”

He was soon down-stairs, thoroughly refreshed, and there awaiting him was the family. “Here, sir,” said Colonel Bollup, “here is the real mint julep I was talking about.”

“Thank you, sir,” said Ralph, “but I had resolved not to drink anything until after I graduate; I am not lacking in appreciation, sir, but I hope you will excuse me.”

“Of course Colonel Bollup will excuse you,” said Mrs. Bollup; “you are just right, Mr. Osborn, and I wish Tom would follow your example. Tom, you’ve already had one julep to-day; you ought not to drink another.”

“Pshaw, a julep will never hurt him,” said Colonel Bollup. “All right, Mr. Osborn, I’m sorry you won’t join us,” and in fact he was quite disappointed; “but here’s good luck to you, sir,” and he drank his julep and then took the one Ralph had declined and drank that with much apparent enjoyment; and young Tom Bollup drank his julep in a manner that showed that a julep was nothing strange or new to him.

With the Bollups Ralph was ushered into a kind of life he had never known. The nearest neighbor lived three miles away, and the Bollup family were sufficient unto themselves. The estate covered more than a thousand acres though but little of it was now cultivated. In the morning there were pleasant drives and in the late afternoon delightful walks along the beautiful James River. An easy comradeship soon sprang up between Ralph and Gladys Bollup, and they frequently wandered away by themselves.

“Oh, Mr. Osborn,” said Gladys, late one afternoon, while they were idly resting, “I’m so glad you didn’t take that mint julep; Tom takes them all the time, and papa encourages him to. Sometimes I worry for fear he may take too much; if he should you will try to influence him, won’t you?” And Gladys looked at Ralph with a mute appeal in her tender blue eyes that made him feel it would be a great happiness for him if he could do anything for this dear girl.

“Indeed you needn’t worry, Miss Gladys,” he said. “Tom never took a drink at the Academy the two years he has been there; he is one of my two best friends; you may be sure there’s nothing on earth I wouldn’t do for him if I could. Don’t worry over the juleps; he’ll forget about them. But how you must love it here! I could not imagine a more beautiful home. There is your grand old house, with its beautiful, attractive grounds, the beautiful lawns, the majestic old trees situated on this glorious river. I should think you would never want to leave it.”

“I’m always glad to get back, but it gets lonely after a time; I’m going to a school in Staunton during the winters; we have lots of good times there, but the old place does look friendly when I come back to it. But it’s getting late and supper will be waiting, so let’s go back to the house.”

After supper the family gathered on the porch, as usual, chatting till bedtime.

“That Lambo has been seen around here again,” remarked Colonel Bollup.

“I hope the scoundrel is caught,” exclaimed Tom. “I’d like to pull on a rope that would swing him off the earth.”

“How you do talk, Tom,” said Gladys. “You know you wouldn’t do anything of the kind.”

“Who is Lambo?” asked Ralph.

“He’s a very bad, desperate negro,” said the colonel; “he has served several penitentiary sentences, and a year ago set a house on fire, robbed and nearly killed Mr. Osgood who lives five miles from us. He then disappeared and everybody hoped he would never be seen again. But some of the colored folks say he is back and I suppose we will soon hear of some new act of violence by him.”

“I do hope not,” said Mrs. Bollup. “By the way, Gladys, our cook tells me that Aunt Sarah is sick; won’t you drive over to-morrow and take her a basket of things she would like?”

“May I go too, mother?” asked Dorothy.

“Yes, indeed; I’ll have James get the horses ready early so you can start at nine o’clock.” And then Mrs. Bollup explained to Ralph that “Aunt Sarah” was an old colored woman, now living in a little cabin several miles distant, who had served the Bollup family when the colonel was a boy.

“It looks as if we are going to have rainy weather,” remarked the colonel; “you had better use the closed carriage to-morrow.”

The next morning was threatening in appearance, so the horses were hitched to a very ancient closed carriage and the young girls drove off at nine o’clock.

“Say, Os,” remarked Tom, “suppose you and I go to see Aunt Sarah; we can take a short cut through the woods. I don’t think it’s going to rain; we’ll get there by the time the girls do. Aunt Sarah is a real character, one of the old slavery days servants; there aren’t many of her kind left now.”

“I’ll be glad to go,” Ralph replied.

“All right; just pick up a ball club in the hall; there are lots of snakes in the woods.”

Both young men picked up baseball bats, and started joyously on their tramp through the woods.

It was still and dark through the woods; no sunlight pierced through the heavy lowering clouds overhead, and the thick, intertwined branches, almost keeping out the daylight, made it seem as if it were nearly night.

By the time the carriage containing Gladys and Dorothy had arrived near Aunt Sarah’s cabin it was raining heavily. The cabin was a little distance off the road.

“We’re here, Miss Gladys; but it’s rainin’ powerful bad,” said the faithful James, stopping the horses and turning around to talk to the two girls through an opening behind his coachman’s seat. “It’s rainin’ too bad fo’ you to walk in it; yo’ll spile dem nice close of yourn. Yo’ lem me take de basket; I’ll tell Aunt Sarah you’se heah but can’t come out.”

“All right, James, take the basket; will the horses stand without hitching?”

“I won’t promise they’ll stand, Miss Gladys; dey may lie down. Dey shorly am de tiridist horses I ever seen.” And James, laughing at his joke, took the basket and soon disappeared down a little lane at the end of which was Aunt Sarah’s cabin.

An instant later, to her horror, Gladys saw a negro with an evil, vicious face, come out of the woods on the other side of the road. She instinctively knew him to be that desperate Lambo. Gladys and Dorothy screamed in terror as he approached the carriage, realizing they were in danger. Lambo gave them little more than a passing glance but quickly jumped on the box, and seizing the reins, lashed the horses savagely. A moment later shouts were heard. Lambo turned around quickly, took a pistol from his pocket, discharged it, and whipped up his horses to a run. He then turned around, and with the smoking pistol in his hand said: “I know you; you’re the Bollup girls. I’ve a score to settle with your father and I can see my way to do it. If you’re quiet I’ll let you out further down; but if you’re not I’ll shoot you as I have just shot your brother.”

The two girls clasped each other in terror. They were too frightened to speak. Terror-stricken, they looked with blanched faces at the ugly, horrible creature as he spoke. A dread that their brother Tom had been shot possessed them, and they knew not what terrible treatment they might receive at the hands of the desperate negro.