"Not among my friends," Belle replied lightly. "But I can't get my mind off that uniform of yours that you didn't bring home. What would have happened to you if you had been bold enough to do it?" "I guess I'd have 'frapped the pap,'" hazarded Dave. "And what on earth is 'frapping the pap'?" gasped Belle. "Oh, that's a brief way of telling about it when a midshipman gets stuck on the conduct report." "I'm going to buy a notebook," asserted Belle, "and write down and classify some of this jargon. I'd hate to visit a strange country, like Annapolis, and find I didn't know the language. And, Dave, what sort of place is Annapolis, anyway?" "Oh, it's a suburb of the Naval Academy," Dave answered. "Is it dreadfully hard to keep one's place in his class there?" asked Belle. "Well, the average fellow is satisfied if he doesn't 'bust cold,'" Dave informed her. "Gracious! What sort of explosion is 'busting cold'?" "Why, that means getting down pretty close to absolute zero in all studies. When a fellow has the hard luck to bust cold the superintendent allows him all his time, thereafter, to go home and look up a more suitable job than one in the Navy. And when a fellow bilges----" "Stop!" begged Belle. "Wait!" She fled from the room, to return presently bearing the prettiest hat that Dave ever remembered having seen on her shapely young head. In one hand she carried a dainty parasol that she turned over to him. "What's the cruise?" asked Darrin, rising. "I'm going out to get that notebook, now. Please don't talk any more 'midshipman' to me until I get a chance to set the jargon down." As she stood there, such a pretty and wholesome picture, David Darrin thought he never before had seen such a pretty girl, nor one dressed in such exquisite taste. Being a boy, it did not occur to him that Belle Meade had been engaged for weeks in designing this gown and others that she meant to wear during his brief stay at home. "What are you thinking of?" asked Belle. "What a pity it is that I am doomed to a short life," sighed Darrin. "A short life? What do you mean?" Belle asked. "Why, I'm going to be assassinated, the first hop that you attend at the Naval Academy." "So I'm a gold brick, am I?" frowned Belle. "You--a--gold brick?" stammered Dave. "Why, you--oh, go look in the glass!" "Who will assassinate you?" "A committee made up from among the fellows whose names I don't write down on your dance card. And there are hundreds of them at Annapolis. You can't dance with them all." "I don't intend to," replied Belle, with a toss of her head. "I'll accept, as partners, only those who appear to me the handsomest and most distinguished looking of the midshipmen. No one else can write his name on my card." "Dear girl, I'm afraid you don't understand our way of making up dance cards at Crabtown." "Where?" "Crabtown. That's our local name for Annapolis." "Gracious! Let me get out quickly and get that notebook!"