t the wrong impression about everything,
Danny boy," retorted Darrin, turning to his roommate with a
quizzical smile. "The singing drill isn't given with a view to
fitting you to sing in opera."

"What, then?" insisted Dan.

"You are learning to sing, my dear boy, so that, later on, you will
be able to deliver your orders from a battleship's bridge in an
agreeable voice."

"If my voice on the bridge is anything like the voice I develop
in Recreation Hall," grimaced Dalzell, "it'll start a mutiny right
then and there."

"Then you don't expect sailors of the Navy to stand for the kind
of voice that is being developed in you in Recreation Hall?" laughed
Darrin.

"Sailors are only human," grumbled Dalzell.

The rowing work, in the big ten-oared cutters proved one of the most
interesting features of the busy summer life of the new men.

More than half of these fourth class midshipmen had been accustomed
to rowing boats at home. The work at Annapolis, however, they found
to be vastly different.

The cutter is a fearfully heavy boat. The long Naval oar is
surprisingly full of avoirdupois weight. True, a midshipman has to
handle but one oar, but it takes him many, many days to learn how to
do that properly.

Yet, as August came and wore along, the midshipmen found themselves
becoming decidedly skilful in the work of handling the heavy cutters,
and in handling boats under sail.

Competitive work and racing were encouraged by the Navy officers who
had charge of this instruction.

Each boat was under the direct command of a midshipman who served
as crew captain, with thirteen other midshipmen under him as crew.

When the post of crew captain fell to Dan Dalzell he embarked
his crew, gave the order to shove off and let fall oars, and got
away in good style.

Then, leaning indolently back Dan grinned luxuriously.

"This is the post I'm cut out for," he murmured, so that stroke-oar
heard him and grinned.

Yet, as "evil communications corrupt good manners," Dan's attitude
was reflected in his crew of classmates. The cutter was manned
badly at that moment.

"Mr. Dalzell!" rasped out the voice of Lieutenant Fenton, the
instructor, from a near-by boat.

Dan straightened up as though shot. But the Navy officer's voice
continued sternly:

"Sit up in a more seamanlike manner. Pay close attention to the
work of your boat crew. Be alert for the best performance of
duty in the boat that you command. For your