Creelton was doing splendidly; for the first month he had over 3.50 in each subject and stood about number three in class rank; he was devoted to Ralph; there was never a time but what he willingly put away his own work to help Ralph in his French.
In November Ralph did somewhat better in his studies and this encouraged him. Himski was apparently standing number one, and to the surprise of all, the irrepressible, rollicking Bollup was easily number two. Taylor, Streeter, and Warren were also of this group, and these seven young men were always to be found together and were known to the rest of the class as “Himski’s Bunch.”
One day late in November, Bollup came to Ralph’s room, his face flushed with anger. “There’s some thief in this building,” he indignantly cried. “Somebody has pinched my gold watch.”
“By George, that’s too bad, Bollup!” exclaimed Ralph. “That was a fine watch you had; are you certain it was stolen? Couldn’t it be misplaced?”
“Of course I’m certain! I left it in the top shelf of my wardrobe when I went to drill to-day; I always do that; and as soon as I came back from drill I went to get it and it wasn’t there.”
“Who could have done it?” asked Creelton.
“I wish I knew; he wouldn’t stay long at this place. Fellows, there’s a thief in this school wearing a midshipman’s uniform. I’m certain of it.”
“Impossible!” exclaimed Creelton. “It must have been one of the colored building men.”
“Not on your life. The watch was stolen between four and six o’clock to-day and in those hours there wasn’t a corridor boy in the building.”
“By George, that’s an awful thing to say, Bollup; I hope it isn’t so.”