Some, to be sure, among these midshipmen soon to graduate, took each day as it came, with little or no emotion. To them the Naval life ahead was coming only as a matter of course. There were others, however—-and Dave Darrin was among them—-who looked upon a commission as an officer of the Navy as a sacred trust given them by the nation.
Dave Darrin was one of those who, while standing above the middle of his class, yet felt that he had not made sufficiently good use of his time. To his way of thinking there was an appalling lot in the way of Naval duties that he did not understand.
"I may get through here, and out of here, and in another couple of years be a line or engineer officer," Midshipman Darrin confided to his chum and roommate one day. "But I shall be only a half-baked sort of officer."
"Well, are cubs ever anything more?" demanded Dan.
"Yes; Wolgast, for instance, is going to be something more. So will Fenton and Day, and several others whom I could name."
"And so is Darrin," confidently predicted Midshipman Dalzell.
But Dave shook his head.
"No, no, Danny boy. The time was when I might have believed extremely well of myself, but that day has gone by. When I entered the Naval Academy I probably thought pretty well of myself. I've tried to keep up with the pace here——-"
"And you've done it, and are going to do it right along," interjected
Midshipman Dalzell.
"No; it almost scares me when I look over the subjects that I'm not really fit in. It's spring, now, and I'm only a few weeks away from graduation, only something like two years this side of a commission as ensign, and—-and—-Dan, I wonder if I'm honestly fit to command a rowboat."