CHAPTER XX.
THE MIDSHIPMAN.
Having passed both his physical examination and the one to discover how far he had progressed in “book learning,” Mark Merrill felt happy at the thought that there was no other barrier between him and his cadetship.
He had been asked by one of the committee where he had attended school, for he was well up in all questions asked, wrote an excellent hand, and answered with a knowledge evidently not acquired for the occasion.
His reply had been a simple one, and truthful:
“My mother taught me all I know of books, sir, for I never went to school.”
Reporting to the quartermaster of the post, Mark found there the kit which Commodore Lucien had gotten for him, and he discovered that it left no needs to be filled.
His room was a pleasant one, and by a rare stroke of good fortune he was given a first-rate fellow to be his companion to share it. He had dreaded that, as Scott Clemmons was also from Maine and known to be an acquaintance, the two might be roomed together.
In such a case he hoped Clemmons would object, but if he did not then he certainly should, for he could not bring himself to like the youth who had shown such an ugly humor toward him in the past.
The moment that he could get away Mark started to go aboard his little schooner and bid farewell to Captain Crane and his two sons, and also bring ashore the few things he had brought with him from home.
As an act of duty he had sought Scott Clemmons and said: