“Take it easy,” smiled the stranger; “others have it, why shouldn’t you?”
At that moment there came a rap at the door and a black, woolly head was thrust into the room.
“Mistah Osborn,” said the intruder, “dere’s a telegram boy what’s got a telegraph fo’ you; he says dere’s fo’ty cents to collec’.”
“Excuse me for a minute,” said Ralph to the stranger, “while I see the telegraph messenger.” As he hurried out of the room and down the stairs, he felt glad of the interruption as it gave him time to gather his scattered thoughts. What should he do? He was in a terrible quandary. Somehow he did not doubt the fact that the stranger’s claim to possess the examination was correct. His whole nature revolted at the notion of passing an examination by such underhand means; he was horrified, but he did not know what to do. If he refused to take the examination the stranger would leave with it. And if he reported the occurrence without proof other than his unsupported word he was afraid nothing would come of his report.
He received the telegram which was of little importance, and still in perplexity as to what to do, he started to return when his eyes fell upon a telephone in the hall. A sudden inspiration came to him. He took down the receiver and said: “Central, give me the house of the superintendent of the Naval Academy immediately.”
Soon a voice came which said: “This is the superintendent; what is it?”
“Is this the superintendent of the Naval Academy?”
“It is. What do you want with him?”
“I am Ralph Osborn, a candidate.”
“What is it, Mr. Osborn?”