On the following Saturday, after supper, Robert and Stonewell were enjoying a pleasant call at the Blunt household. Captain Blunt was telling Stonewell of the last target practice his ship had gone through. "Why, sir," he said, "if my six-pounders had not done so poorly I would surely have won the trophy; my six-inch guns averaged seven hits a minute, each of the best guns making ten hits. If we had had decent sights for our six-pounders the 'New Orleans' would have made the best record of any ship of her class in the navy." Robert was eagerly listening, and was much interested, but Helen Blunt wasn't. "Father," she interrupted, "you talk of nothing but guns, guns, guns and hits per minute. Now that isn't nearly so interesting to midshipmen as ice-cream and cake. Robert, come along to the pantry with me and help me get some." That young man was on the point of asking Captain Blunt a question about six-pounder gun sights, but Helen was already on her way toward the hall; so he thought his question could wait, and he started to join Helen. She had gone to the rear of the house, to the pantry next the kitchen. The passageway was dark, but Robert knew the way, and he hurried after Helen, and soon ran right into her. "You are a regular blunderer, aren't you, Robert?" she laughed. "I am trying to turn on the light but can't find the key. What a bother it is that in Annapolis all the servants go home at night--and there goes the doorbell. I'll have to go see who it is. Now try to find the switch; it's somewhere near on this wall. Just feel about and you'll find it. I hope you're not afraid to be left in the dark," was her parting shot, "but the kitchen door is locked, so that no burglars can get in." And Helen ran away. Robert groped about, but could not find the switch to the electric light, and while he was fumbling his ear caught the noise of a click in the kitchen, as if a door had been unlocked. A moment later he heard a door opened, and with it he felt the draft blow on him. "Some one has let himself into the kitchen," thought Robert. He kept quite still, wondering who it might be. Then he heard footsteps on the kitchen floor; they seemed quite close to him and he felt confident there was an intruder there. He peered through the open door of the pantry into the kitchen, but in the dark could see nothing; suddenly an electric light in the kitchen was turned on, and Robert, himself unseen, looked with fascination on the person he saw. There standing by a table was a man with a brown slouch hat drawn down over his eyes, a man with a heavy moustache and dark pointed beard; he was dressed in a dark sack coat, buttoned closely across his chest and wore trousers of a dark material. Robert felt his breath come quickly. "What can this man be doing here?" he wondered. "I know him; he's the scoundrel who called for three groans for the superintendent and commandant."