When Mark Merrill was presented to the commandant of the Naval Academy he felt deeply embarrassed at the publicity which had been given to his arrival. He had sailed up to the academy from Norfolk to save money on the railroads, and then he saw that Shipper Crane and his sons had a lurking desire to see where he was going to anchor for the next few years, while cramming his head with all the cargo of learning necessary to make a skilled naval officer. And Mark had been anxious to have the skipper tell his mother when he returned that he had left him at his destination, and what he thought of his future home. He certainly had not intended to attract attention by his arrival, but greatness had been forced upon him by a combination of circumstances which he could not avoid. Although when the commandant had entered the navy, back in the “Forties,” there had been no naval school, except aboard ship, he had been a middy, and was well aware that they had not changed much since those days. He understood that Cadet Captain Bascomb and his mates had in some way gotten wind of the coming of Mark Merrill, and had at once seized upon him as a hero, the fact of his saving the yacht Midshipman having leaked out. There were a number of officers at headquarters, and they, as well as the commandant, looked on with interest at the introduction of the newly appointed lad. Mark, though his face was flushed with embarrassment, had doffed his tarpaulin and stepped forward toward the commandant, and said: “I am ordered to report to you, sir, but did not know that I was breaking any rule in coming as I did by water.” “I am glad to meet you, Mr. Merrill, and to welcome you to the Naval Academy, while I do not know of any law against a cadet coming by water.” And the commandant smiled, while, turning to the cadets, he continued: “You may leave Mr. Merrill in my charge now, Captain Bascomb, and I am glad that you gave him the welcome you did, as, from all accounts, he is deserving of it.” The cadets saluted, and were marched off by their captain, while the commandant, in a kindly way, invited Mark into his quarters. To his surprise Mark beheld in the room, standing by the window where he had seen all, no less a personage than Scott Clemmons. The latter had just arrived, and reported to the commandant. He was most fashionably attired, wore a spotless white silk tie around his standing collar, and held in his hand a high hat, presenting a perfect specimen of the youthful genus dude. His face was pale, and his eyes had an angry look as he turned them furtively upon Mark. “Here is also a young gentleman from your State; in fact, I believe you are neighbors, as you both hail from B----. Mr. Merrill, Mr. Clemmons,” said the commandant, introducing them.