“On the contrary, I wish to say that Merrill is the noblest fellow I ever met. I have watched him closely, when he little dreamed I was paying the slightest attention to his acts, or the actions of others, and I wish to say, commandant, that the day he missed roll call on account of not finding his cap, some one had taken it to cause him a demerit. The ink stains on his uniform were put there by others, and the night that he was reported as absent without leave from his room I lay awake, unable to sleep, and he never got out of his cot; but, whoever it was, gave the name of Merrill instead of his own, and this I’ll take oath to, sir. In a number of other cases, commandant, Merrill has been accused and silently submitted, when I know he was innocent, and thus the demerits roll up against him. Against these demerits, sir, he stands perfect in lessons, thorough in drill, and no complaint against the performance of any duty he is put upon, which, I think, sir, if you will pardon the expression of my opinion, go to prove that where he has a chance to get perfect marks he gets them, while others get the demerits against him as one dangerous to have as a rival for honors.” “Ah! I see your reasoning, Mr. Perry; but may I ask if Merrill knows of your coming to me?” “No, sir, he has not a suspicion of it, for I come on my own responsibility, knowing the facts.” “It does you credit, let me say, Perry, and your reasoning is so good that I shall look into the matter myself.” “Thank you, sir.” “But what does Merrill say of the demerits he receives?” “I have only heard him express himself once, sir, and then he said that it was not the plain sailing he had hoped to have here, for in spite of his every effort to win success he seemed to make a dead failure of it.” “I see; but do not speak of this visit to Merrill or any one else, and I’ll see what explanation can be arrived at of his many demerits.” “Simply, sir, that he has a secret foe,” was the almost blunt assertion of Bemis Perry. “Then he is fortunate in having also a secret friend in you, Mr. Perry,” was the commandant’s smiling response; and Bemis Perry saluted and retired, satisfied that he had acted as he should have done to save Mark Merrill from an underhand foe, who meant his dismissal from the academy. CHAPTER XXV. A CLOUDED RECORD. Weeks passed away and the strange fact presented itself that the cadet midshipman, who was devotedly studious, thorough in every duty devolving upon him, perfect in drill and courteous to all, yet kept his list of demerit marks steadily increasing against him, a circumstance that could only end in one way. Pranks were played, and time and again the guilty one was said to be Mark Merrill, for he was the one who seemed to be leading two lives, as it were, secretly a wild one, openly a perfect one.