In answer to the hail of the officer of the deck Barney Breslin had asserted that he had important letters for Scott Clemmons, and so had come on board. His speaking to Bemis Perry and his rebuff, his cut by Decatur Knowles, and the fact that a score of middies took it into their heads to pass near him and make no acknowledgment of his existence, did not appear to distress him in the least. “He has the gall of a book agent,” muttered a cadet, in reference to him. “The cheek of a Chinese idol,” another remarked. “I pity him that he has fallen so low,” Mark Merrill commented, for it did distress him to see one who had once had the same opportunity they all had of making a name for himself throw it away as he had done. “Your heart is softer than your fist, Merrill,” Dillingham returned with a smile. “Hard as you can hit, Merrill, I do not believe you could bruise that fellow’s cheek,” said Nazro. Though not wishing to appear to watch his meeting with Clemmons, all eyes turned surreptitiously upon the two, and several who were nearest heard the very decidedly uttered words of the cadet midshipman as to why the disgraced youth had dared visit him aboard ship. But Breslin did not seem in the least disconcerted, nor did he make an effort to hand over the “important letters,” which he had said he brought with him. He simply dropped his outstretched hand, which Clemmons failed to take, and while his eyes flashed with anger, replied: “Ah! you, too, do not care to recognize me, Clemmons; but I guess that you will have to do so, for I came to see you and am not to be snubbed.” “I was told I had a visitor, but had I known that it was you, Breslin, I would not have seen you.” “Indeed! but suppose I had insisted?” “Come, say why you have come here, where not a man will recognize you.” “True; but what do I care for the recognition of my foes so long as my dear friend Clemmons recognizes me.” “Will you tell me why you are here, for I am busy in the captain’s cabin?” “If you cannot find time to see me here, appoint an hour ashore, for it is important.” “It will be impossible for me to see you, Breslin.” “See here, Clemmons, I wish to see you upon a matter of importance, I tell you.” “I cannot tell when I will come ashore.” “Then I will appoint to-night at eight o’clock, at the Astor House.” “I cannot be there.” “Very well, I shall take a trip to Maine to-morrow, if you do not come.” “What do I care where you go?” “I believe you live in Maine.” “I am a sailor, sir, my home being aboard ship.” “Ah! grandiloquently said, my sea cub, my baby tar, who is not yet out of Uncle Sam’s nursery for middies. You do not live in Maine now?” “No, sir.” “Your father does.” “Well?” “I shall go there to see him.” Scott Clemmons started, and asked quickly: “And why?” “Because I can get no satisfaction from you.” “What do you wish from my father?”