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Updated: June 10, 2025
"What did we need?" "You've both been studying so hard that your brain cells are clogged." "But what did Farley and I both need?" insisted Midshipman Darrin. "Mental exercise -brain-sparring," rejoined Dalzell. "You both needed something that could take you out of the horrible daily grooves that you've been sailing in lately.
The puffing locomotive had pushed the slag-pot car half-way to the track-end before Farley sat up as one dazed and seemed to be trying to get on his feet. Twice and once again he essayed it, falling back each time upon the bent and doubled leg. Then he looked up and saw the slag-car coming; saw and cried out as men scream in the death agony.
This last was uttered just as Midshipman Pennington stepped into line at the supper formation. "I wish I could see Darrin's face now!" Pen repeated to himself. Seldom has a wish been more quickly gratified. For, just in the nick of time to avoid being reported, Midshipmen Darrin, Dalzell and Farley came into sight, falling into their respective places.
After which conversation Richard went for a long ride, inspected cottages in building at Sandyfield, visited a house, undergoing extensive, internal alterations, which stands back from Clerke's Green, about a hundred yards short of Appleyard, the saddler's shop at Farley Row. He came in late. Unusual silence held him during dinner.
He strode into the midst of a group of stricken-looking midshipmen. "Who's overboard!" demanded the commanding officer. "Hallam, sir " "And Darrin, sir " "And Dalzell, sir " "How many?" demanded the captain sharply. "Three, sir." "How did so many fall overboard?" "Mr. Hallam was frolicking, sir," reported Midshipman Farley, "and lost his footing." "But Mr. Darrin and Mr.
Pleased to have met you." He included Sarah in the bow with which he took his leave. For a few days Farley Curtis lived at the Coldriver House, then moved to Grandmother Penny's, where Sarah Pound boarded. Secretly Bob Allen was furious, without apparent cause. He had no reason to draw conclusions, for boarding houses were scarce in Coldriver.
Dave raised his hand, sounding a light knock on the door, which he next pushed open. Farley and a dozen other members of the fourth class were in the room. Moreover, it was evident instantly that some of those present were discussing the burning class issue. "But are you sure he did it? Farley?" one midshipman inquired, as the chums entered. "Sure?" repeated Farley. "Of course I am!
"Well, perhaps one might, though never on the small amount that has come to me so far in life. And this Navy orchestra plays so divinely!" "Hang you, Farl!" muttered Dave. "That's just like Darrin, Miss Meade," laughed Farley. "He's always a monopolist at heart. Though in this instance I am far from wondering at his desire to be." It was the first hop after the semi-annual exams.
Mis' Farley said some of 'em might slip yo' enough jest to help yuh out." Stopping in her work, she looked curiously at the actress. "Ain't yo' got nobody to take care of yo' at all, Miss Laura?" Laura shook her head despondently. Sadly, she replied: "No! No one." "Dat's too bad." "Why?" The negress grinned.
You and Farley have had your lesson. And I " "Yes, and you, Mr. Detective-man," said the woman, as he paused. "What do you get out of it?" Average Jones cast an affectionate glance at the sprawling legend which disfigured his floor. "A unique curio in my own special line," he replied. "An ad which never has been published and never will be. That's enough for me."
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