"What luck," he said to himself, with great satisfaction. "I got out in the first place, got back again, was in my bed at taps inspection, and now I'm back here and have missed only a little of the play. And nobody saw me or knows anything about it."
The play proceeded. At a little before eleven, near the end, while some scenery was being changed, the manager of the theatre stepped out on the stage and called:
"Is Midshipman Stonewell present?"
"I am he," replied Stonewell, rising in his seat.
"I'm sorry, but the superintendent of the Naval Academy has just telephoned me to have Midshipman Stonewell send in all midshipmen on the run." Before Stonewell had a chance to reply or give an order, and before the look of dismay and disappointment had disappeared from his classmates' faces, everybody in the theatre was startled by a loud cry in harsh, strident tones of:
"Midshipmen and everybody else, attention!"
An intense breathless stillness followed. Everybody looked to the direction from where the cry had come. There, in the front of the right hand box, stood a tall athletic looking man. Now a brown slouch hat was pulled down on his forehead; his face was covered with a dark beard. He wore a sack coat buttoned tightly over his chest.
By this penetrating voice everybody's attention was attracted. An expectant hush fell upon the audience. Every eye was upon the bearded stranger.