These two enlisted men of the Navy had been spectators and auditors of all that had taken place. Not until the last midshipman had left the ground did the sailor and marine emerge from their hiding place. "Well, of all the game fights!" muttered the marine. "Me? I'm hoping that some day I fight under that gallant middy," cried the sailor. "Who is this Mr. Darrin?" asked the marine, as the pair strolled away. "He's a youngster--third classman. But he's one of the chaps who, on the cruise, last summer, went over into a gale after another middy--Darrin and his chum did it." "There must be fine stuff in Mr. Darrin," murmured the marine. "Couldn't you see that much just now?" demanded the sailor, who took the remark as almost a personal affront, "My hat's off to Mr. Darrin. He's one of our future admirals. If I round out my days in the service it will be the height of my ambition to have him for my admiral. And a mighty sea-going officer he'll be, at that!" In their enthusiasm over the spectacle they had seen, the sailor and the marine talked rather too much. They were still talking over the battle as they strolled slowly past one of the great, darkened buildings. In the shadow of this building, not far away, stood an officer whom neither of the enlisted men of the Navy saw; else they would have saluted him. That officer, Lieutenant Willow, U.S. Navy, listened with a good deal of interest. Mr. Willow was one of those officers who are known as duty-mad. He gathered that there had been a fight, so he deemed it his duty to report the fact at once to the discipline officer in charge over at Bancroft Hall. Regretting the necessity, yet full of the idea of doing his duty, Lieutenant Willow wended his way promptly towards the office of the officer in charge. CHAPTER XIX THE OFFICER IN CHARGE IS SHOCKED Through the main entrance of Bancroft Hall, into the stately corridor, Lieutenant Willow picked his way. He looked solemn--unusually so, even for Lieutenant Willow, U.S.N. He had the air of a man who hates to do his duty, but who is convinced that the heavens would fall if he didn't. To his left he turned, acknowledging smartly the crisp salute given him by the midshipman assistant officer of the day. Into the outer office of the officer in charge stepped Mr. Willow, and thence on into the smaller room where Lieutenant-Commander Stearns sat reading. "Oh, good evening, Willow," hailed Lieut. Stearns heartily. "Good evening, Stearns," was the almost moody reply. "Sit down and let's have a chat. I'm glad to see you," urged Lieutenant-Commander Stearns. Mr. Stearns, he of the round, jovial face, gazed at his junior with twinkling eyes. "Willow," he muttered, "I'm half inclined to believe that you've come to me to make an official report." "I guess I have," nodded Lieutenant Willow. "And against some unfortunate midshipman, at that!" "Against two, at least," sighed Mr. Willow, "and there were others involved in the affair."