in a back room of a disreputable drinking resort on a narrow street leading from the water front were seated two youths clad in the uniform worn by united states naval cadets.

on the table between them were a bottle and two glasses. both youths were smoking cigarettes, and both appeared ill at ease.

“i can’t stand this much longer, chris,” said one, nervously flipping the ash from his cigarette. “if that little beggar don’t turn up pretty soon——”

“you’ll go and look for him,” interrupted the other, with a sneer.

“don’t be a fool. how could i find him in this confounded city?”

he snapped open his watch and added, abruptly:

“almost seven. confound it! what can be keeping him?”

“probably had trouble finishing—— what’s the matter?”

the other had banged the table with his clinched fist.

“shut up, will you?” he snarled. “haven’t you any sense, talking like that? do you want to get us—us hanged? people may be listening. it isn’t so anyway. nothing was to be done except giving—except giving far—him a scare.”

chris spendly slowly sent a cloud of smoke toward the ceiling. he smiled grimly. “we won’t argue that question, judson,” he drawled. “but when you cough up fifty dollars and promise fifty more, it’s not for the purpose of giving people a scare. and that’s true enough.”

before his companion could reply there was a sound at a door leading to the rear yard. both sprang to their feet, judson white-faced and trembling.

a lithe, sinewy, barefooted lad hurriedly entered the room. he was breathing heavily, and his face was mottled white as if from deadly fear.

he tried to speak, but before the words could form themselves an interruption came in the shape of a loud knock at the door opening into the bar.

with a gasping cry, the lad vanished in the direction whence he had come. the cry was echoed by judson, who stood cowering near the table.

“we are suspected,” he moaned. “it has been done, and they are after——”

“stop that, you fool!” grated spendly. “how can they suspect us?”

he strode to the door and fumbled at the key unsteadily. he was pale, but there was desperate determination written in his face.

at last the lock yielded and the door flung open revealing—the man in charge of the place.

“you want more drink?” he asked, in broken english, bowing humbly.

“no!” snarled chris, tossing him a piece of money.

“come on,” he added to judson. “it’s time we were at the dock.”

they had presence of mind enough to saunter forth leisurely, but once free of the ill-favored resort they quickened their steps almost to a run.

“it won’t do for you to be seen looking like that,” exclaimed spendly, roughly, passing under a street lamp. “brace up, you fool. you would give yourself away to a blind man.”

judson pulled himself together with an effort. he was ghastly pale, but he walked steadily as they resumed their way toward the dock.

they found the majority of the liberty party gathered there awaiting the hour set for returning on board.

it was on the stroke of eight and the boats were already on their way ashore.

shortly after judson and chris reached the dock, a carriage drove up and joy and nanny leaped out close to where the former were standing.

joy glanced anxiously from one to the other of the group of cadets. his face was even more grave than usual. and nanny looked as if tears were not far away from his eyes.

“i say,” called out the lanky plebe, “has any one seen faraday?”

judson and spendly shrank back into the shadows.

“no,” replied a first class cadet named blakely. “he ought to be here. why, what’s up? you fellows look worried.”

“we can’t understand why clif isn’t here, that’s all. he went out to a place in the suburbs at four o’clock and was to meet us on the dock at six. we’ve been up to the house where he called and they said he left there in a carriage shortly before dark.”

“he may have stopped somewhere on the way back.”

“no. clif is not the fellow to break a promise if he could help it.”

“oh, i don’t know,” came from the shadows back of blakely. “he’s not so much. i guess he’d break more than a promise if it came to the point.”

“you wouldn’t dare to say that to his face, chris spendly,” retorted nanny, warmly. “he’d make you shake in your boots.”

chris discreetly remained silent. his malignant nature had caused him to revile the boy whom he knew in his vicious heart was lying mangled and bleeding at the foot of the bluff, but he had sense enough not to carry it too far.

and judson was frantically plucking at his sleeve and begging him to remain quiet for heaven’s sake.

“i think you will see faraday showing up in ample time, youngsters,” said blakely, kindly, addressing joy and nanny. “there isn’t any reason why he shouldn’t.”

“here come the boats!” suddenly exclaimed a cadet.

three men-of-war cutters dashed in from the darkness and rounded to alongside the landing steps.

an officer sprang out, glanced at his watch, then cried briskly:

“the liberty party will fall in and answer promptly as the names are called.”

he produced a paper and rapidly read from it by the light of a boat lantern held by the coxswain.

“mr. andrews.”

“present, sir.”

“mr. blakely.”

“present, sir.”

“mr. caldwell.”

“here, sir.”

“donovan.”

“present, sir.”

“mr. faraday.”

no reply. the line of cadets shifted uneasily and a subdued murmur arose.

“mr. faraday,” repeated the ensign, in a louder voice.

still no answer.

“any one seen mr. faraday?” was the next question, given impatiently.

“not since four o’clock, sir,” replied joy, glumly. “he went visiting and has probably been detained.”

“he knows the hour. we can’t wait longer than three minutes.”

the officer’s watch snapped with a determined click. the time passed slowly. many anxious eyes were directed toward the gate at the end of the dock, for clif, by his manliness and sturdy independence, won more than one friend even among the enemy.

“time’s up! get into the boats,” at last came from the ensign.

joy and nanny obeyed with evident reluctance, but chris spendly and judson greene seemed surprisingly eager to shake the dust of the city from their feet.

“i do not like to report mr. faraday absent,” said the young officer, as he took his place in the stern of the first cutter, “but duty is duty. up oars! ready! let fall——”

“cutter, ahoy!”

the hail, clear and sharp, came from the other end of the dock. the gate swung back and a youth clad in a naval cadet uniform ran toward the boats.

as he passed under a light a cry came from one of the cutters:

“clif faraday!”

the cry was followed by a commotion in the boat.

“what’s the matter there?” called out the ensign, sternly.

“judson greene has fainted, sir.”

a little later a group composed of the majority of the plebes and a sprinkling of upper class cadets was gathered around clif as he leaned against the pivot gun on the monongahela’s forecastle.

the faces of all save the central figure were expressive of the liveliest interest and excitement.

“and they got you against the stone rampart in the park, you say?” eagerly questioned grat wallace.

“yes,” replied clif. “there were two of them, the driver of the carriage and that scoundrelly little diver, pedro. i thought my end had come. in fact, to use a common expression, i saw my finish. i had no intention of giving up, though.”

“not you,” broke out nanny.

“thanks,” laughed clif; then he continued:

“i don’t know how it happened without”—his voice grew soft and reverend—“the almighty interposed and aided me. all i know is that we were struggling on the very edge of the stone rampart when the driver slipped over the edge and”—clif shuddered—“fell down to a horrible death.”

“served him right!” exclaimed more than one voice.

“i whipped the coat from my head just in time to see pedro disappear among the trees. i gave chase, but he escaped me. i was pretty well shaken up, i tell you, but i managed to reach the central police headquarters and told my story to an interpreter.”

“and the driver?”

“they found him an hour later on the roof of a house at the foot of the bluff. he was a mass of broken bones.”

“and all this was done simply because you made that little portuguese diver angry this morning?” said one of the group.

“i suppose so,” replied clif, thoughtfully; “but it does seem the fellow must have had some other reason than petty revenge and robbery. if so, it’s bound to come out some day.”