Bligh sat by his window, his mind full of Harry Blunt. The soft moonlight streamed into his room. And then Bligh was startled by hearing a noise in the room next door, as if a window were being raised. Straining his eyes he looked out from his window, and in the next instant he saw the dark figure of a man creep out on the passageway leading from the window of the office to the terrace. The man turned to his left, and with the bright moonlight full on his face Bligh got a good look at him, but did not recognize him. The man wore a slouch hat, sack coat, and had a moustache and full beard. The dark figure stole over to the terrace and soon disappeared. "Now I understand," cried Bligh to himself. "Blunt had an appointment with some 'cit' and they met in the room next door. He's up to something, and I'll see that he gets reported for this, and I hope it will bilge him." Bligh now opened the door of his room and looked out, expecting every moment to see Harry Blunt emerge from the office. Bligh was thoughtful for a while, then he took a spool of black linen thread from a drawer in his wardrobe. He tied one end of the thread to the door-knob of the office and carried the thread overhead through the open transom of his room. He then sat in the chair by the window holding the thread hauled taut; and Bligh sat there for the next two hours, thread in hand. At one o'clock his watchfulness was rewarded. He saw the figure of a man steal up over the terrace and across the passageway. And in the moonlight he recognized the same hat, moustache, beard and sack coat. Bligh sat perfectly still, and it was not long before the thread in his hand suddenly pulled and snapped. Bligh quickly stepped to the doorway of his room and looked out, and there going down the corridor was Harry Blunt in his service uniform. Then Mr. Henry Bligh, midshipman, fourth class, gave a pleased laugh and went to bed. CHAPTER IX ROBERT GETS BAD NEWS "Stone," said Robert Drake one Saturday in March, "let's call on the Blunts this afternoon. Captain Blunt is home on leave; his ship, the 'New Orleans,' arrived in New York last month. He's a splendid man." Stonewell laughed. "Come along," he replied, "and perhaps I'll have a chance to see Mrs. Blunt; she's such a pleasant woman; and then there's that scamp of a son of hers; perhaps he may be at home. I haven't seen much of him since the football season ended. I never see him nowadays if he sees me first. Mark my words, Bob, Harry Blunt is up to some mischief, and he'll be getting into a lot of trouble before long. Every time I pass him he looks conscious. By the way, Bob, whom have you asked to present the flag to your company? You expect to win it, of course."