inattention, and
worse, of a moment ago, Mr. Dalzell, you will put yourself on
the conduct report."

The next morning, at breakfast formation, Dan's name was read
from the "pap." He had been given five demerits. This was below
the gravity of his offense, but he had been let off lightly the
first time.

"You've got to stick to duty, and keep it always in mind," Darrin
admonished his chum. "I don't intend to turn preachy, Dan; but
you'll surely discover that the man who lets his indolence or
sense of fun get away with him is much better off out of the Naval
Academy."

"Pooh! A lot of the fellows have frapped the pap," retorted Dalzell.
"Demerits don't do any harm, unless you get enough of 'em to cause
you to be dropped."

"Well, if there is no higher consideration," argued Dave, "at
least you must remember that the number of demerits fixes your
conduct grade. If you want such liberties and privileges as are
allowed to new midshipmen, you'll have to keep your name away from
the pap."

"Humph! Setting your course toward the grease mark are you?"
jeered Dan.

"Think it over!" urged Dave Darrin patiently.

Before August was over the new fourth class men marched "like
veterans." They had mastered all the work of drill, marching and
parade, and felt that they could hold their own in the brigade when
the upper class men returned.

On the 28th of August the three big battleships were sighted coming
up the bay in squadron formation. A little more than an hour
later they rode at anchor.

It was not, however, until the 30th of August that the upper classmen
were disembarked.

August 31 was devoted to manifold duties, including the hurried
packing of light baggage, for now the members of the three upper
classes were to enjoy a month's leave of absence before the beginning
of the academic year on October 1.

Then, like a whirlwind mob, and clad in their "cit." clothes, the
upper class men got away on that hurried, frenzied leave.

There was no leave, however, for the new midshipmen.

In lieu of leave, through the month of September, the new fourth
class men spent the time, each week-day, from ten o'clock until
noon, at the "Dago Department," as the Department of Modern Languages
is termed.

Here they made their start in French.

"When Trotter comes back," muttered Dan, "if he asks me whether
I can talk French, I'll tell him that I've tried, and now I know
I can't."

It was the last night before the u