"You have both passed," nodded the surgeon. "Mr. Dalzell, however, will do well to take the most wholesome care of his teeth hereafter."
Just then the door opened and two more candidates were shown in.
"Come with me," directed the same midshipman master of ceremonies.
Dan was indiscreet enough to range up alongside their conductor, just missing a vigorous nudge that Dave tried to give him.
"Well, we slipped by the drug-store sign all right," Dan confided to the white-gloved midshipman. "Now, how soon do we get our messenger-boy uniforms?
"Never, I hope," replied their conductor frigidly, "unless you can learn to speak of the uniform of the service with more respect."
Dan fell back abashed. His style of humor, he was fast discovering, did not seem to make a hit at Annapolis.
Back in the same waiting room the two young men lingered until nearly eleven o'clock. More than two score of candidates had passed the medical examiners by this time, and some others had failed to pass. Yet many of these successful candidates had yet to take their scholastic examinations over in Academic Hall, and so did not wait with Dave and Dan, who had now passed in everything.
By eleven there were fully a dozen young men who, like Dave and Dan, were ready to be sworn in. These were now led to the commandant's office. Here each signed a paper agreeing to serve in the United States Navy for a term of eight years, unless sooner legally discharged. Each also signed a statement to the effect that he took this step with the full permission of parents or guardian.
Then the commandant of cadets ordered them to form in a line facing his desk. A notary appeared, who administered to them the oath of loyalty and obedience. These young men were at last actual members of the brigade of midshipmen.