“Now, professor, I’ll call a special meeting of the Academic Board,” said the superintendent, “at ten o’clock to-morrow morning and we’ll make a midshipman out of Mr. Osborn. Good-night, Mr. Osborn; I congratulate you. If you pass your physical examination to-morrow you’ll be a midshipman before twenty-four hours have passed.”
“Good-night, sir, and thank you so much for everything,” replied Ralph, picking up his hat and leaving the office, probably as happy a young man as Annapolis has ever seen.
His feelings were much to be envied that night. He had passed through a most anxious time with defeat staring him in the face, but had emerged triumphantly successful.
By noon the next day he had passed the severe physical test which all candidates to Annapolis undergo, and had been sworn in as a midshipman, and was happily walking about the decks of the old Santee where the enlisted men employed at the Naval Academy and recently sworn-in midshipmen are quartered, feeling that the most glorious thing was to be a midshipman in the Navy.
Mere words are incapable of expressing Short’s state of mind. Wild rage possessed him. Bitter hatred against Ralph Osborn filled his heart, enveloped his whole being. After the examinations had been completed he had been somewhat nervous, but became reassured when he heard that Ralph had suddenly left town that Wednesday evening. And as Short’s name was reported as having passed and he was sworn-in as a midshipman, he soon became confident that his cheating would never become known. He was feeling particularly pleased with himself at the instant he was directed to report to the superintendent. He was somewhat uneasy when these summons came, yet could not believe he had been found out.
And what a difference on his return! Black, wicked passion so possessed him that all other feelings were driven from his mind.
Upon his return to the Santee he was informed he was to be kept in close arrest until further orders, and was to hold no communication with other midshipmen.
A little before nine that night while Short was brooding and planning schemes for revenge against Ralph Osborn, a midshipman passed near and whispered: “What’s the matter, Short?”
“I want to talk with you,” replied Short. “Be at the forward gun-port on the starboard side at about eleven o’clock to-night.”
“I can’t. No one is allowed to speak to you. I’d get into trouble if I did.”