At some distance away, on the same deck of barracks in Bancroft Hall, a midshipman was industriously twanging away on a banjo.

Darrin, however, absorbed in his novel, paid no heed to any of the signs of Saturday-night jollity.

He was a third of the way through an exciting tale when there came a knock on the door---a moment later a head was thrust in.
Midshipman Farley's head was thrust inside.
"All alone, Darry ?" called Mr.Farley.
"Yes," Dave answered, laying his novel aside after having thrust an envelope between pages to hold the place.

"Come in, Farl." "Where's Dalzell ?" inquired Farley, after having closed the door behind him.
"Until this moment I thought that he was in your room." "I haven't seen him all evening," Farley responded.

"Page and I have been yawning ourselves to death." "Danny boy is visiting some other crowd, then," guessed Darrin.
"He will probably be along soon.