Clack! was the sound that followed the first cry. Like a flash the marine sentry had thrown his rifle to the deck. A single bound carried him to one of the night life buoys. This he released, and hurled far astern. As the night buoy struck the water a long-burning red light was fused by contact. The glow shone out over the waters. In the meantime, the "Massachusetts's" speed was being slowed rapidly, and a boat's crew stood at quarters. The boat put off quickly, guided by the glow of the red signal light on the buoy. Ere the boat reached the buoy the coxswain made out the head and shoulders of a young man above the rim of the floating buoy. Soon after the boat lay alongside. Dave, with the coxswain's aid, pulled himself into the small craft. Recovering the buoy, the coxswain flashed the red light three times. From the deck of the battleship came a cheering yell sent up from hundreds of throats. In the meantime, however, while the boat was on its way to the buoy, a pulsing scene had been enacted on board. Farley went straight up to Midshipman Pennington. "Sir," demanded Farley hotly, "why did you push Mr. Darrin over the rail." Pennington looked at his questioner as one stunned. "I--I did push Darrin over," admitted Pennington, "but it was an accident." "An easily contrived one, wasn't it?" demanded Midshipman Farley, rather cynically. "It was pure accident," contended Pennington, paling. "Until it happened I hadn't the least idea in the world that I was going to send Mr. Darrin or anyone else overboard." "Huh!" returned Farley dubiously. "Huh!" quoth Hallam. Dan Dalzell uttered not a word, but the gaze of his eyes was fixed angrily on Pennington. That latter midshipman turned as white as a sheet. His hands worked as though he were attempting to clutch at something to hold himself up. "Surely, you fellows don't believe, do you--" he stammered weakly, then paused. "One thing we did notice, the other day," continued Farley briskly, "was that, when Darrin was rescued from the sea and returned to us, you were about the only member of the class who didn't go up to him and congratulate him on his marvelous escape." "How could--" "Mr. Pennington, I haven't the patience to talk with you now," rejoined Farley, turning on his heel. At that moment the yell started among the midshipmen nearer the rail. Farley, Dan, Hallam and others joined in the yell and rushed to better points of vantage. Pennington tried to join in the cheer, but his tongue seemed fixed to the roof of his mouth. He stood clenching and unclenching his hands, his face an ashen gray in his deep humiliation. "I don't care what one or two fellows may say," groaned Pennington. "But I don't want the class to think such things of me." He was the most miserable man on board as the small boat came alongside. The boat, occupants and all, was hoisted up to the davits and swung in-board. To the officer of the deck, who stood near-by, Dave turned, with a brisk salute.