It was noon the next day when the cruiser sailed, Mark again acting as pilot out to sea, and fair weather and a stiff breeze held her on her way, until once again she dropped anchor off the Naval School, and the young sailors went ashore to “bone it” hard for another long year, and to struggle for honors. CHAPTER XLVI. A FORCED RESIGNATION. The second year began with Mark Merrill in the lead for honors. He had not only won a badge for a gallant act at sea, but he had received “honorable mention” for his services as pilot under circumstances where only skill and nerve alone could have saved the cruiser from a very dangerous position. Then, too, he held the honors of his class for the first year, and that was in his favor. He had enemies, of course--what really good fellow has not?--yet he was generally popular, and the officers all liked him. Scott Clemmons was still distantly polite, and his clique of toadies imbibed his manner toward Mark Merrill. But of their treatment Mark was severely indifferent. Scott Clemmons had given out that he meant to win the honors of his second year. He had thrown this challenge, or rather defiance, in the face of Merrill, and at once he set about his task to win. But those who made the situation a study were convinced that Scott Clemmons would never stand number one, though he had a strong chance for position number two. There were more who said it was very bad form for him to attempt to take first honors away from a man to whom he owed his life, but Mark Merrill seemed not to regard it in that light. One afternoon Mark received a letter which seemed to give him a great deal of worry. At last he sought Bemis Perry, and said: “See here, Perry, you have got a very level head, and I wish to ask your advice.” “Fire away, old man, for I am at your service from truck to keelson.” “I have a letter here from Miss Virgene Rich, whom you met at my mother’s.” “Ah! I see; but you are over-young to marry yet, Mark. Flirt all you wish to, have a sweetheart in every port, which is a sailor’s prerogative, but don’t let any girl get her grappling irons on you too securely to shake off.” “My dear Perry, you generally speak with the wisdom of Solomon, but just now you are on the wrong tack, so go about and know your course before you set full sail.” “My anchor’s down, Merrill, and hatches closed,” and Perry dropped into his chair and placed his finger upon his lips. “It concerns Clemmons, and places me in an awkward position.” “Ah! more of his deviltry, eh?” “I’ll read you Miss Virgene’s letter.” And taking it from his pocket, Mark read aloud as follows: “MY DEAR MARK: A letter from me will doubtless surprise you, but I write for Silly Sam, who is not gifted with a superior style of penmanship.