Hardly had the anchor been let fall in the North River when a boat with one oarsman came off bearing a visitor. “Merrill, take an observation of that fellow and see if it is not Barney Breslin,” said Bemis Perry, pointing to the occupant of the boat. “It certainly is; but can he be coming aboard here?” asked Mark in surprise. “He is; but if there’s a man aboard who speaks to him he ought to be given the cut direct.” Mark said nothing, and soon after the boat was hailed by the officer of the deck. “I have letters for Cadet Scott Clemmons, and it is important for him to receive them at once,” was the answer to the hail. “Ay, ay, come alongside,” was the response of the officer of the deck, as the boat ran up to the gangway. The next moment Barney Breslin stepped on board, and was in the presence of those who had been his companions at the Naval School, face to face with those who had known him as a thief. His face was flushed, but it seemed rather from the effects of drink than from shame, for his whole appearance indicated that he led a dissipated life. His dress was of the shabby genteel, and those who knew something of his antecedents felt convinced that his father had not taken him back into the bosom of the family, or else, as the son of a rich man, why was he looking so very seedy? Scott Clemmons was below aiding the commander in some work at the time he was sent for, and he was excused to go on deck and meet his visitor. Who that visitor was he had not the remotest idea, and it flashed through his mind that it might be his paternal ancestor. Bemis Perry was not one to let him off without a shot, so said: “Clemmons, your old friend Barney Breslin has called upon you, and from his looks I guess he wants a loan.” The face of Scott Clemmons flushed scarlet, and the blood, as quickly retreating, left it as white as a corpse. There stood Breslin, calmly gazing about the vessel, with no show of emotion at the awkward predicament he had placed himself in. He had spoken to two cadets near him, calling them by name, and addressing them in the free and easy manner of an old friendship. One of them was Bemis Perry, and he looked him squarely in the face as he said: “By what right, sir, do you dare to address a gentleman?” With this he walked away and met Clemmons as he came on deck. Decatur Knowles, the other cadet to whom Breslin had spoken, simply cut him dead in silence, and walked away. Just then, as Breslin, not in the least abashed, for he gave a low, defiant laugh, turned and glanced over the ship, Scott Clemmons came on deck and started toward him, but all saw with no joy at beholding him. Breslin said as he saw him: “Ah, Clemmons, old boy, how are you?” He held out his hand, but without taking it, Clemmons responded in a low voice, quivering with anger, but which several overheard: “Why have you dared come here and ask for me?” CHAPTER XXXVII. THE DEMAND.