Peggy and Polly scrambled out of bed the morning of the Yale-Harvard crew race, to find all the world sparkling and cool with a stiff breeze from the Sound. It was a wonderful day and already the sight presented in the bay was enough to thrill the dullest soul. During the five days in which "Navy Bungalow," as it had been promptly named by the young people, had been occupied by the congenial party from Annapolis, old friendships had strengthened and new ones ripened, and a happier gathering of people beneath one roof it would have been hard to find. Perfect freedom was accorded every one, and the boys who had just graduated soon found their places with the older officers, for the transition, once the diploma is won, is a swift one. As passed midshipmen and "sure enough" junior officers, they had an established position impossible during their student days in the Academy.

The boys on the practice cruise also felt a greater degree of liberty, and the fact that they were the proteges of Commander Harold and Captain Stewart gave them an entree everywhere.

To Durand the experience was not a new one, for he had the faculty of winning an entree almost anywhere, but to Ralph and his roommate, Jean Paul Nicholas, as bright, merry a chap as ever looked frankly into one's face with a pair of the clearest, snappiest blue eyes ever seen, the world was an entirely new one and fairly overflowing with delightful experiences. Then, too, they were now youngsters instead of plebes, and this fact alone would have been almost enough to fill their cups with joy. The other boys who came from the ships had been second-classmen during the past year, but were now in all the glory of first-classmen, and doing their best to make good during the cruise in order to carry off some of the stripes waiting to be bestowed upon the efficient ones during the coming October.

In the two weeks spent with Mrs. Harold at Annapolis, Mrs. Howland had learned to love Peggy Stewart very dearly and Mrs. Harold said:

"Madeline, you have won more from Peggy Stewart than you realize. She has a rarely sweet character, though I am forced to admit that she seems to have been navigating uncharted waters. I have never known a girl of her age to live such an extraordinary life and why she is half as lovable, charming and possessed of so much character, is a problem I have been trying all winter to solve. But I rather dread the next few years for her unless some one both wise and affectionate takes that little clipper ship's helm. She is entirely beyond Harrison and Mammy now, and her father hasn't even a passing acquaintance with his only child. He THINKS he has, and he loves her devotedly, but there's more to Peggy Stewart in one hour than Neil Stewart will discover in years at the rate of two months out of twelve spent with her. I think the world of the child, but Polly is MY girl, and has slipped into Constance's place. I want you to let her stay with me, too. I have been so happy this winter, and she with me, but I wish there was someone to be in Peggy's home, or she could be sent to a good school for a year or two. Sometimes I think that would be the best arrangement in the long run."

Meanwhile Peggy was entirely unaware of the manner in which her future was being discussed and she and Polly were looking forward to regatta day with the liveliest anticipation.

As Peggy and Polly looked out over the bay and up the river that perfect morning Peggy cried:

"Oh, Polly COULD anything be lovelier than this day? The sky is like a blue canopy, not a cloud to be seen, the air just sets one nearly crazy, and that blue, sparkling water makes me long to dive head-first into it."

"Well, why not?" asked Polly. "It is only half past six and loads of time for a dip before breakfast. Let's get into our bathing suits, bang on the ceiling to wake up Happy, Shortie and Wheedles and make them stick their heads out of the window."

It did not take five minutes to carry the suggestion into effect and a golf stick thumping "reveille" under Wheedles' bed effectually brought him back from dreams of Annapolis. Rousing out the other two he stuck a tousled head out of his window to be hailed by two bonny little figures prancing excitedly upon the balcony beneath him.

"Hello, great god Sumnus," cried Polly, "Wake up! Oh, but you do look sleepy. Stir up the others. Peggy and I are going down for a dip before breakfast and to judge by your eyes they need the sand washed out of them."

"Awh! Whow! Oh," yawned Wheedles, striving vainly to keep his mouth closed and to get his eyes opened. Just then two other heads appeared.

"What's doing? House afire?" they asked.

"No, it's the other element—water," laughed Peggy. "Come and get into it. That's what we are going to do. You may think those pink and blue JACKETS you're wearing are the prettiest things in the world—WE know they are part of your graduation "trousseau," but bathing suits are in order just now. So put them on and hurry down."

"Bet your life," was chorused as the three tousled heads vanished.

The average midshipman's "shift" requires as a rule, about two minutes, and passed-middies are no exception. Before it seemed possible three bath-robed figures joined the girls, who had put their raincoats over their bathing suits, and all slipped down to the little beach in front of the cottage and struck out for the float anchored about fifty feet off shore.

What a sight the bay and river presented that morning. Hundreds of beautiful yachts, foregathered from every part of the world, for New London makes a wonderful showing Regatta week, and flying the flags of innumerable yacht clubs, were crowding the roadstead. A more inspiring sight it would be difficult to imagine. Just beyond the float, and lying between the Olympia and Navy Bungalow, the pretty little naptha launch on which Captain Stewart's party were to be Captain Boynton's guests, rode lightly at anchor, her bright work reflecting the sunlight, her awning a-flutter, her signal pennant waving bravely.

"I've GOT to play I'm a porpoise. I've simply GOT to. Come on, Wheedles, nothing else will work off my pent-up excitement," cried Polly, diving off the float to tumble and turn over and over in the water very like the fish she named, for Polly's training with Captain Pennell during the winter had made her almost as much at home in the water as on land and Peggy swam equally well.

While the young people were splashing about Mrs. Harold and Mrs. Howland came out on the piazza to enjoy the sight.

For half an hour the five splashed, dove, and gamboled as carefree as five young seals, and with as much freedom, then all hurried into the bathhouses where Mammy and Jerome had already anticipated their needs by hurrying down with a supply of necessary wearing apparel; a trifling matter quite overlooked by the bathers themselves.

A gayer, heartier, more glowing group of young people than those gathered at the breakfast table could not have been found in New London or anywhere else; certainly not at the Griswold where the majority of them were either satiated society girls whose winters had been spent in a mad social whirl, or the blase city youths who at nineteen had already found life "such a beastly bore."

"Gad," cried Neil Stewart, slapping Shortie's broad shoulders, "but it's refreshing to find fellows of your age who can still show up such a glow in their cheeks, and such a light in their eyes, and an enthusiasm so infectious that it sets a-tingle every drop of blood in an old kerfoozalem like me. Hang fast to it like grim death, for you'll never get it back if you once lose it. That old school down there turns out chaps who can get more out of the simple life than any bunch I know of. It may be the simple life in some respects, but it's got a confounded lot of hard work in it all the same, and when you've finished that you're ready to take your fun, and you take it just as hard as you take your work, and I don't want to see a better bunch of men than that system shows. I was over at the hotel last night, talking with four or five chaps, younger than you fellows here, and I swear it made me sick: Bored to extinction doing nothing. I'd like to take 'em on board for just about one month and if they didn't find something doing in a watch or two I'd know why. Keep right on having your fun, you and the girls— yes, GIRLS, not a lot of kids playing at being nerve-racked society women."

"Hear! Hear!" cried Glenn Harold. "What's stirred you up, old man?"

"That bunch over yonder. Keep a little girl as long as you can Peggy, and you, Polly, hold your present course. Who ever charted it for you knew navigation all right."

"I guess mother began it and then turned the job over to Aunt Janet, sir," answered Polly.

"Well, she knew her business all right. I'm mighty sorry she can't be here today to see the race, but when she comes back from Northampton she'll bring that other girl I'm so anxious to know too. By George, the Rowland crowd puts up a good showing, and they seem to know how to choose their messmates too, if I can judge by Hunter."

"Isn't he the dearest brother a girl ever had?" asked Polly enthusiastically, for her love for her brother-in-law was a subject of pleasurable comment to all who knew her.

"One of the best ever, as I hear on all sides," was Captain Stewart's satisfactory answer. "But here comes Boynton. Ahoy! Olympia Ahoy!" he shouted, hurrying out upon the piazza as a launch from the Olympia came boiling "four bells" toward Navy Bungalow's dock, the white clad Jackies looking particularly festive and Captain Boynton of the Olympia with Commander Star of the Chicago sitting aft. They waved their caps gaily and shouted in return.

"Glorious day! Great, isn't it?" as the launch ran alongside the dock and friends hurried down to meet friends.

"We came over to see how early you could be ready. We must get up the course in good season this afternoon in order to secure a vantage point. Mrs. Boynton wants you all—yes—the whole bunch, to come over to the Griswold for an early luncheon. Mrs. Star will be with her and we'll shove off right afterward. Now NO protests," as Captain Stewart seemed inclined to demur.

"All right. Your word goes. "We'll report for duty. What's the hour?"

"Twelve sharp. There's going to be an all-fired jam in that hotel but Mrs. B. has a private dining-room ready for us and has bribed the head waiter to a degree that has nearly proved my ruin. But never mind. We can't see the Yale-Harvard race every day, and a month hence we'll be up in Maine with all this fun behind us."

That luncheon was a jolly one. Captain Boynton had a daughter a little younger than Peggy and Mr. Star a little girl of eight.

Promptly at two the party went down to the Griswold dock, gay with excitement and a holiday crowd embarking in every sort of craft, all bound for the course up the river. The naptha launch had been run alongside the long Griswold pier and it did not take long for Captain Boynton's party to scramble aboard. Captain Boynton, Captain Stewart and the girls went forward, some of the boys making for the bow where the outlook was enough to stir older and far more staid souls than any the Frolic carried that day.

They cast off, and soon were making their fussy way in and out among the hundreds of launches, yachts and craft of every known description.

The crew of the Frolic was a picked one, the coxswain, an experienced hand, as was certainly required THAT day. The pretty launch was dressed in all her bunting, and flying the flag of her club.

Through the mass of festive shipping the launch worked her way, guided by the steady hand of the man at her wheel, his gray eyes alert for every move on port or starboard.

Peggy and Polly were close beside him. Captain Stewart and Captain Boynton stood a little behind watching the girls, whose eager eyes noted every turn of the wheel. An odd light came into Captain Boynton's eyes as he watched them. Presently he asked Peggy:

"Do you think you could handle a launch, little girl?"

"Why—perhaps I could—a little," answered Peggy modestly.

"Why, Peggy Stewart, there isn't a girl in Annapolis who can handle a launch or a sailboat as YOU do," cried Polly, aroused to emphatic protest.

Peggy blushed, and laughingly replied: "Only Polly Howland, the
Annapolis Co-Ed."

"Eh? What's that?" asked Captain Boynton.

"Oh, Polly has had a regular course in seamanship, Captain Boynton, and knows just everything."

"Any more than YOU do, miss?" demanded Polly.

"Yes, lots," insisted Peggy.

"Well, I'll wager anything you could take this launch up the river as easily as the coxswain is doing it," was Polly's excited statement.

"How's that, Stewart? Have you been teaching your girl navigation?"

"I hadn't a thing to do with it. It's all due to the good friends who have been looking after her while I'VE been shooting up targets. But Polly's right. She CAN handle a craft and so can this little redhead," laughed Captain Stewart, pulling a lock of Polly's hair which the frolicsome wind had loosened.

"By Jove, let's test it. Not many girls can do that trick. Coxswain, turn over the wheel to this young lady, but stand by in case you're needed."

The coxswain looked a little doubtful, but answered: "Aye, aye, sir."

"Oh, ought I?" asked Peggy.

"Get busy, messmate," said Captain Boynton.

The next second the girl was transformed. Tossing her big hat aside and giving her hair a quick brush, she laid firm hold upon the wheel and instantly forgot all else. Her eyes narrowed to a focus which nothing escaped, and Stewart gave a little nod of gratified pride and stepped back a trifle to watch her. Captain Boynton's face showed his appreciation and Polly's was radiant. The old coxswain muttered: "Well, well, you get on to the trick of that, lassie. You might have served on a man-o-war."

They were now well out in the river and making straight for the railway bridge. Peggy alert and absorbed was watching the current as it swirled beneath the arches. "How does the tide set in that middle arch, coxswain?" she asked.

"Keep well to starboard, miss," he answered.

Peggy nodded, and gave an impatient little gesture as a lumbering power boat, outward bound seemed inclined to cut across her course. "What ails that blunderbuss? I have the right of way. Why doesn't he head inshore?" and she signalled sharply on her siren to the landlubber evidently bent upon running down everything in sight, and wrecking the tub he was navigating. Then with a quick motion she flicked over her wheel and rushed by, making as pretty a circle around him as the coxswain himself could have made. "Holy smoke, but ye have given him the go-by in better shape than I could myself. Whoever taught ye?"

"A navy captain down at Annapolis," answered Peggy, as she shot the launch beneath the bridge.

"Well, he did the job all right, all right, and I may as well go back and sit down. Faith, I thought we were as good as stove in when I handed over the wheel to ye, but I'm thinking I can learn a fancy touch or two myself."

"Oh, no, don't go. I don't know the river, you know, though I want to do my best just to make Daddy proud of me," answered Peggy modestly.

"Well then he should be a-yellin' like them crazy loons yonder on the observation train—that's what he should," nodded the coxswain.

Neil Stewart was not yelling, but he wasn't missing a thing, and presently Peggy ran the launch into a clear bit of water near the three- mile flag.

Bringing her around, she issued her orders, her mind too intent upon the business in hand to be conscious that all on the launch had been watching her with absorbing interest. Anchors were thrown over fore and aft in order to hold the launch steady against the current, then turning the wheel over to the admiring coxswain, Peggy wiped her hands upon her handkerchief and holding out her right one to Captain Boynton, said:

"Thank you so much for letting me try. It was perfectly glorious to feel her respond to every touch and thread her way through all that ruck."

"Thank me? Great Scott, child, you've done more for the whole outfit than you guess. Stewart, my congratulations."

Poor Peggy was overcome, but the boys and Polly were alternately running and praising her, every last one of them as proud as possible to call Peggy Stewart chum.

But out yonder the shells were already in the water and the electric spark of excitement had flashed from end to end of that long line of gayly bedecked expectant yachts and launches, as down to them floated the strains of the Yale boating song as it is never sung at any other time, and thousands of eager eyes were peering along the course watching for the first glimpse of the dots which would flash by to victory or defeat.