the best and
jolliest of companions and chums, their "co-ed cronies," as they called
them.

Mrs. Stewart they had met in New London, but there was a very
perceptible difference in their greeting to that lady: It was the
formal, perfunctory bow and handclasp of the superficially known
midshipman; not the hearty, spontaneous one of the boy who has learned
to trust and love someone as Mrs. Harold's boys loved and trusted her.

The crowd which had poured out of the Chapel was soon dispersed, as
everybody had something to call him elsewhere. Our group sauntered
slowly toward the Superintendent's home where Captain Stewart left them
and went in to make his request for the afternoon's frolic. It was
promptly granted and orders were given to have a launch placed at his
disposal at two-thirty P.M.

Such a treat, when least expected, sent the boys into an ecstatic frame
of mind, and when the bugle sounded for dinner formation they rushed
away to their places upon old Bancroft's Terrace as full of enthusiasm
as though averaging eight and ten instead of eighteen and twenty years
of age.

CHAPTER VI

A NEW ORDER OF THINGS

That Sunday afternoon of October first, 19-- was vital with portent for
the future of most of the people in this little story.

It took but a short time to run out to Severndale, and once there Neil
Stewart made sure of a free hour or two by ordering up the horses and
sending the young people off for a gallop "over the hills and far away."
Shashai, Silver Star, Pepper and Salt for Peggy, Polly, Durand and
Ralph, who were all experienced riders, and four other horses for
Douglas, Gordon, Jean and Bert, of whose prowess he knew little. He need
not have worried, however, for Bert Taylor came straight from a South
Dakota ranch, Gordon Powers had ridden since early childhood and Douglas
Porter had left behind him in his Southern home two hunters which had
been the joy of his life. But Jean Paul Nicholas, Ralph's little
pepper-pot of a room-mate, had never ridden a horse in his life, and the
running he would come in for at the hands of his fellow midshipmen if
they suspected that fact might have made almost any other lad hesitate
before taking his initial spin in the company of experts. Not so little
Jean Paul with his broad shoulders, the brace of an Admiral and his
five-feet-six-inches; a veritable little bantam-cock, and game to the
finish.

As the happy cavalcade set off, waving merry farewells to