"Mr. Pennington, I haven't the patience to talk with you now," rejoined Farley, turning on his heel.
At that moment the yell started among the midshipmen nearer the rail. Farley, Dan, Hallam and others joined in the yell and rushed to better points of vantage.
Pennington tried to join in the cheer, but his tongue seemed fixed to the roof of his mouth. He stood clenching and unclenching his hands, his face an ashen gray in his deep humiliation.
"I don't care what one or two fellows may say," groaned Pennington. "But I don't want the class to think such things of me."
He was the most miserable man on board as the small boat came alongside. The boat, occupants and all, was hoisted up to the davits and swung in-board. To the officer of the deck, who stood near-by, Dave turned, with a brisk salute.
"I beg to report that I've come aboard, sir," Darrin uttered.
"And very glad we are of it, Mr. Darrin," replied the officer. "You will go to your locker, change your clothing and then report to the captain, sir."
"Aye, aye, sir."
With another salute, Dave hastened below, followed by Dan Dalzell, who was intent on attending him.
Ten minutes later Dave appeared at the door of the captain's cabin. Just a few minutes after that he came out on deck.