The petty persecutions of Mark Merrill became so persistent, so annoying, and so frequent that those who knew how matters were going became confident that, as they all counted against the young sailor and not against unknown persecutors, he would not be able to stay his year out at the academy.

It had leaked out that Mark Merrill had been a tough citizen at home, and was nothing more than a coast fisherman, until brought into a position above his station by an appointment to the naval school.

In truth there were a number of rumors about the academy detrimental to our young hero, and though they reached his ears, often most unpleasantly from hearing them himself, oftener from having them told him by his devoted chum, Bemis Perry, he suffered in silence, making no denials.

At length some who had been his friends grew cold in their greetings of him, and his popularity began to waver.

“You can’t make a silk purse out of a sow’s ear,” said Scott Clemmons, one day, in speaking of Mark in a crowd, who had been referring to his many demerits.

“No, and you can’t ward off the attack of a secret assassin,” remarked Bemis Perry quietly.

All eyes turned upon the speaker, for he seldom attracted attention by any outspoken words, and Scott Clemmons, with angry face, asked:

“Do you mean that for me, sir?”

“I shot at random, Clemmons; and if you got in the way it is your lookout, not mine.”

“I wish you to explain your ambiguous words,” said Clemmons hotly.

“Permit me to do so,” was the response. “You were pleased to apply an insulting application to my roommate and friend, Mark Merrill, and as he has suffered much secret persecution from one who would stab him in the back, I say that one can no more protect oneself from a secret assassin than you can make a silk purse out of a sow’s ear. Now, if the shoe fits you, put it on and wear it.”

“As it does not, there is no cause of quarrel between us,” Scott Clemmons said, retreating through the exit open to him.

“You are wise,” and with this Bemis Perry walked away, and as he did so he muttered to himself:

“I will do it.”

An hour after found him in the presence of the commandant, waiting to be heard by that august personage.

“Well, Mr. Perry, what is it?” said the commandant, somewhat abruptly.

“I have no complaint to make, commandant, for myself, but I have an explanation to offer in behalf of another.”

“Well, Mr. Perry, I will hear you.”

The commandant had taken a fancy to the quiet, reserved but brilliant youth who had become Mark Merrill’s roommate, and he now saw that he had something more than a favor to ask.

“I wish to make a statement, sir, and hope that you will take what I have to say as though uttered under oath.”

“So serious as that, is it, Mr. Perry?”

“Yes, sir; but as I said, it is not of myself that I will speak.”

“Who, then?”

“Of my roommate, sir.”

“Ah! Has Merrill gotten out with you, too?”

“On the contrary, I wish to say that Merrill is the noblest fellow I ever met. I have watched him closely, when he little dreamed I was paying the slightest attention to his acts, or the actions of others, and I wish to say, commandant, that the day he missed roll call on account of not finding his cap, some one had taken it to cause him a demerit. The ink stains on his uniform were put there by others, and the night that he was reported as absent without leave from his room I lay awake, unable to sleep, and he never got out of his cot; but, whoever it was, gave the name of Merrill instead of his own, and this I’ll take oath to, sir. In a number of other cases, commandant, Merrill has been accused and silently submitted, when I know he was innocent, and thus the demerits roll up against him. Against these demerits, sir, he stands perfect in lessons, thorough in drill, and no complaint against the performance of any duty he is put upon, which, I think, sir, if you will pardon the expression of my opinion, go to prove that where he has a chance to get perfect marks he gets them, while others get the demerits against him as one dangerous to have as a rival for honors.”

“Ah! I see your reasoning, Mr. Perry; but may I ask if Merrill knows of your coming to me?”

“No, sir, he has not a suspicion of it, for I come on my own responsibility, knowing the facts.”

“It does you credit, let me say, Perry, and your reasoning is so good that I shall look into the matter myself.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“But what does Merrill say of the demerits he receives?”

“I have only heard him express himself once, sir, and then he said that it was not the plain sailing he had hoped to have here, for in spite of his every effort to win success he seemed to make a dead failure of it.”

“I see; but do not speak of this visit to Merrill or any one else, and I’ll see what explanation can be arrived at of his many demerits.”

“Simply, sir, that he has a secret foe,” was the almost blunt assertion of Bemis Perry.

“Then he is fortunate in having also a secret friend in you, Mr. Perry,” was the commandant’s smiling response; and Bemis Perry saluted and retired, satisfied that he had acted as he should have done to save Mark Merrill from an underhand foe, who meant his dismissal from the academy.